Sunset brought another round of her father struggling to breathe and Sadie holding her breath as she waited to see if the long seconds he didn’t take a breath meant he was finally gone. She hated to see him struggle and suffer. As shadows filled the room, she stood by her father’s bed, held his hand, leaned down and rested her chest against his, and whispered into his ear, “Let go, Daddy. I will be all right. Mom’s waiting for you. Go to her. I love you.”
The wracking breath her father sucked in let out on a long sigh. She kissed his cheek, knowing he’d finally gone. The nurse turned off the machines and patted Sadie’s shoulder as she lay over her father’s lifeless body, her heart pressed to his. Rory’s hands settled on her back and rubbed softly up and down.
“I’ll leave you two,” the nurse said. “Take all the time you need.”
Sadie needed another thirty years. She needed a thousand more hugs. Hundreds of more conversations. More memories to tuck away and cherish.
She told him to go, but she wanted him to stay. She didn’t want to be all alone. Connor was still here, but not with her, not on her side. He wasn’t likely to come running if she was sick or in trouble. He’d likely run the other way.
She had Rory in her life. But after all that happened, would she prove to be more trouble than she was worth? Or worse, would he find her boring without all these distractions keeping him from getting to know the real her.
“Sadie, sweetheart, come here.”
She kissed her father’s cheek for the last time, stood, and turned into Rory’s open arms. She buried her face in his chest. He sidestepped around her, sitting back against her father’s bed, and held her close between his legs. Her tears came all at once. She pressed her face into his shoulder, soaking his shirt again.
She leaned back and wiped her hand over his shirt. “Seems all I do lately is cry all over you.”
“Sadie, sweetheart, your dad died. You can cry all you want.”
“I don’t know what to do now.”
“We’ll figure it out together. I’ll take you home.”
CHAPTER 17
Rory pulled up in the drive and parked behind his brothers’ trucks. Sadie leaned against his side. Not asleep, but not really aware of where they were or the long drive home. He’d left her long enough to make a phone call to his family to let them know what happened and that they were coming. Sadie took care of the paperwork at the hospital and made arrangements for her father’s burial.
The headlights cut out when he shut off the engine. He didn’t move, but waited for Sadie to come back to herself. He stared at his home. The lights in the windows welcoming him, letting him know his grandfather and brothers were there waiting. He didn’t want to take Sadie back to her empty, dark place. Too many memories for her right now. Besides, this was where he wanted her to want to be.
“I thought you said you were taking me home.”
“I did.” He didn’t say whether he meant that’s what he’d said, or that’s where he’d brought her. He wondered which one she thought he meant.
“I like it here. I like seeing you with your family. You’re so close to all of them.”
“They like having you here. And so do I.” Rory opened the truck door and slid out. He held his hand out to her. “Come inside with me.” Sadie took his hand. “Bring your purse and bag.”
“You’re not taking me home later.”
“Stay here with me.”
Their gazes held for a breath, then Sadie grabbed her stuff and slid out of the truck, her fingers linked with his as they walked up to the house. Rory opened the front door and greeted his brothers and grandfather with a nod.
“Come here.” His grandfather held his arms open. Sadie let Rory’s hand go and walked right into them. She held tight to his grandfather. “I’m sorry for you loss, pretty girl.”
“Thank you.” Sadie choked out the words and gave his grandfather a squeeze.
Granddad released her and Ford stepped in to hug her, too. “My condolences.”
Ford released Sadie into Colt’s embrace. His little brother kissed her on the head and held her close. Rory wanted to smack him, but refrained because Colt only meant to comfort her. “Sorry about your dad. I don’t really remember mine and the loss is a pain that aches. I can’t imagine how it feels for you when you’ve had him so long and it’s still not long enough.”
Rory thought about his parents all the time. He tried to keep his memories fresh, but they faded over time and he had to work to bring them into focus. He’d often wondered if Colt’s few memories stayed clear, or if he remembered them at all now. The sadness he felt for Sadie’s loss intensified with his brother’s poignant words.
“Thank you, Colt. That’s exactly how it feels.” Sadie stepped back and kept coming until she ran into him. He wrapped his hand around her middle and hugged her close. She pressed her hands to his arm at her stomach and held him tight. He kissed her head and glanced at Colt, seeing the same hurt he saw in Sadie in his brother’s eyes. He glanced at Ford and Granddad and saw it there, too. If he looked in the mirror, maybe he’d see it in himself, though he tried to hold it together and not make Sadie’s loss about his. Still, when someone died, you remembered those you’d lost, too.
To help keep her from falling into her sorrowful thoughts, he nudged her to walk toward the dining area off the kitchen. “Something smells good.”
“Tonight, we cooked for you, pretty girl,” his grandfather said, leading the way into the other room.
Sadie stopped in front of Rory. He put his hand on her shoulder and stared over her at the table his family set for her. Chicken pot pie casserole. A bouquet of wild daisies and white candles, their flames dancing and making the wineglasses sparkle. His grandmother’s dishes were set out with the silver. A table set for family and a special occasion.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“You must be hungry,” Ford said taking his place at the table.
“Rory said you’ve barely slept or eaten,” Colt added.
Sadie turned and stared up at Rory. “You called them and set this up.”
“I made the call. They did all this for you.”
She went up on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck. She hugged him tight, kissed his neck, and whispered in his ear, “Thank you.”
His family watched them. Each of them gave him a nod. They approved of her. Not that he needed their approval, but he appreciated that they gave it. Sadie saw and understood they’d done this because they cared, and because they thought of her as part of the family. They accepted her.
“Let’s eat, sweetheart. You’re wiped out. You need to take care of yourself now.”
Rory held the chair out next to his grandfather’s place at the head of the table. Sadie sat. He took the seat next to her. Colt poured the wine, something special for Sadie. They usually drank iced tea or beer with their meal, but thought she might prefer this.
Once all the glasses were filled, his grandfather raised his glass. “A toast.” His grandfather took Sadie’s hand into his and held tight.
Everyone else raised their glasses, their gazes locked on his grandfather.
“To Mr. Higgins. You raised an exceptional daughter. I know you are watching over her. We’ll do the same. Rest in peace.” His grandfather tapped his glass to Sadie’s, kissed her hand, and sipped his drink.
Tears gathered in Sadie’s eyes as she tapped everyone else’s glasses. She took a sip and set her glass down with an unsteady hand.
Rory reached for her, rubbing her back and brushing his fingers through her long hair. “How’s that pack of ornery horses doing?” Rory wanted to get everyone talking about something to get Sadie’s mind off her dad, at least long enough to get her to eat something. Her pale skin and the dark circles beneath her eyes made him want to take her upstairs and tuck her in bed, but she needed some food and time to settle her mind and heart.
“They miss you, Sadie,” Ford said.
“You and Rory sh
ould go for a ride tomorrow,” Colt suggested.
Sadie swallowed the small bite she took. “It’s been a while since I got a ride in. I’d love to go.”
“Anything you want, sweetheart.” Rory squeezed her hand on the table.
“I hate to take you away from your work longer.”
“These guys can cover for me.”
“Lord knows Rory works harder than all of us. He deserves to take whatever time he wants. Being with you is a good reason to set work aside for a few days and enjoy your company,” Granddad said, stuffing another bite of pot pie into his mouth like he wasn’t playing matchmaker.
Rory didn’t need the help. Didn’t want it, but he appreciated that his family didn’t mind his taking some time off to be with her.
Sadie mindlessly ate her food, surprised she could swallow past the lump she couldn’t dislodge for the building emotions roiling inside her. She missed her father, felt overwhelmed by what she needed to do next and the life she had to face without the support, understanding, and love from her dad.
Rory caught up on the ranch business with his brothers. Grandpa Sammy interjected his thoughts, orders, and niggling comments, all laced with a touch of humor, to the boys he so openly adored. They had such an easy way with one another. In addition to the love they showed each other, respect shone through in the way they interacted. Although Rory oversaw the ranch, it was clear he valued his brother’s opinions and contributions. She’d never felt the camaraderie she witnessed among the brothers. Their parents’ death had brought them together and bonded them as more than family. They were friends. They were brothers in the deepest sense of the word.
“Pretty girl, do you want some more?” Grandpa Sammy asked.
She stared down at her empty plate. “Uh, no thank you. It was very good. I don’t know why you guys wanted me to cook.”
“It was my late wife’s best dish,” Grandpa Sammy said, pride and sorrow laced in his words.
“I’d love the recipe.”
“I’ll teach you how to make it one day soon.”
“It’s the one thing he insisted all us boys learn to cook,” Rory added.
“It’s nice that you all switch off cooking each day.”
“Let’s face it, Sadie, we’re all happier and eat better when you’re doing the cooking. We get by, but you outdo us every time,” Ford said.
Sadie gave Ford a halfhearted smile, unable to keep up the pretense that she wasn’t falling apart on the inside.
“Oh God.” She smacked the back of her hand to her forehead. “I totally forgot to call work and let them know I wouldn’t be in today. They probably left me a dozen messages.”
Rory touched her shoulder. The comfort and warmth that simple touch evoked in her made her heart soar despite the weight of grief dragging it down.
“Sweetheart, I called work for you. Luna took your shift. She said she’d give you the tips because you need them for school.”
Colt pressed his lips together and turned his head to hide the glimpse of regret she saw in his eyes when Rory mentioned Luna’s name.
“Thank you for doing that. I seem to have lost my mind yesterday. I still don’t quite have it back.”
“It’s fine. I took care of it. Luna said she’d call you tomorrow. If there’s anyone else you’d like me to call, I’m happy to do it for you.”
It was hard to believe she once thought this sweet man forbidding or scary.
“I’ve got a few distant relatives to contact, but I’ll wait and do that when I have the funeral details.”
“What’s this about school?” Grandpa Sammy asked.
“Um, I take online college courses. I’m working on my English degree. By that I mean I’ve been taking classes for the last eight years, trying to finish it.”
“Do you want to be a teacher?” Rory shifted in his seat, turning his big body and all his attention to her.
“Well, that would pay the bills and be a hell of a lot better than waitressing, but ultimately I’d like to be a writer.” The last words came out on a whisper. Her dream put into words she could barely speak because she’d never told anyone but Luna. Her father had caught her scribbling and typing away on her ancient laptop. When he asked, she’d passed it off as nothing more than fooling around. But now, with him gone, her degree only months away from becoming reality, and her life her own to live, she needed to make some real decisions about what she wanted to do.
“What do you like to write?” Rory asked.
She glanced over at him, waiting for some sign that he thought her crazy for wanting to do something so fanciful. Nothing but interest showed in his eyes. She glanced at the other men at the table. They all looked back at her, eager to hear what she had to say.
“Um, well, I like to write fiction.”
“That’s kind of broad. Come on, tell us about one of your stories,” Rory coaxed.
“Are you writing one of those Fifty Shades type books?” Colt teased.
“Actually, yes.” She held the straight face when all their eyes went wide.
“Seriously?” Rory asked.
“No.” She laughed and pressed her lips together to fight the smile spreading across her face. “Mysteries.”
“Really?” Grandpa Sammy asked. “I love a good mystery. It’s fun to try to figure out who done it.”
“Yes. Exactly. I like the intricacy of the plots, laying out the clues and red herrings, tricking the reader into thinking they know who did it until the end when you discover it’s someone else entirely. At least, I hope I do that. My professors seem to think I’ve got a talent for it.” She glanced at Rory again, wondering if he thought her nuts.
“Sounds like you’ve got quite an imagination. I’d love to read something of yours.”
She cocked up one eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Hey, I like to read. When I have time. For you, I’ll make time.”
“Okay. Maybe. Right now the only people who have read anything are my teachers.”
“Have you tried to get anything published?” Ford asked.
“No. It’s hard enough to turn in my work and have my teachers grade and critique it. I haven’t gotten up the courage to send it to any of the publishers.”
“What kind of grades do you get in school?” Colt asked.
The blush rose up from her neck to her face. “Um, mostly A’s.”
“Mostly?” Rory eyed her with a skeptical look.
“I have a 4.0 GPA.”
“You’re a brainy nerd,” Colt teased. His head cocked to the side. “Wait. Didn’t you win some writing contest in high school?”
She nodded, uncomfortable tooting her own horn. “And a ten-thousand-dollar scholarship. That’s how I started attending classes. It’s been a lot harder to finish with my limited resources.”
“You mean with your brother sucking up every last dime you have for lawyers and repaying his debts.” The anger in Rory’s voice was warranted.
Out of habit, she was about to defend her brother, tell him that Connor never got over their mother’s death, and acted out to get the attention he wanted. But she’d suffered the same loss and found a way to go on without all the self-destructive drama, breaking the law, or hurting people.
Rory frowned, pulled her close, and kissed the side of her head. “Sorry. You’re tired. Come on, I’ll take you upstairs. You can take a shower and get some rest.”
She’d been in the same clothes for two days. She desperately wanted a shower, a soft bed, sleep, but she had one thing left to do that she dreaded. “I need to let Connor know about our father.”
“You know where he is?” Ford asked.
“No. I’ll try him at the last number I have, but he didn’t pick up earlier. I have to try. He needs to know what happened.”
She wished Connor to be a different kind of man. A man with principles and honor. A man like the ones she sat with at this table. A man like Rory, who knew how to take care of the people he loved. Which she just realized includ
ed her.
Grandpa Sammy stood and picked up her dish and his. “Take her up and get her settled. We’ll clean up down here.”
Rory stood, held out his hand, and pulled her up out of her seat when she automatically took it. He led her out of the dining area to the stairs.
“They’re good together,” Grandpa Sammy said, thinking she and Rory were out of earshot. Or maybe not.
“At least one of us won’t be sleeping alone tonight,” Colt grumbled.
Halfway up the stairs, Rory casually said, “Don’t worry, you can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“I don’t want to kick you out of your bed.”
They entered Rory’s massive bedroom and stood in front of the king-size bed. She wanted to ask him to stay, but didn’t know quite what to say. She didn’t want to be alone.
Rory cupped her face in his big calloused hands and stared down at her. “As much as I want that to be our bed, this isn’t how I want our first time to be. I won’t take advantage of you or the situation. You’re sad and don’t want to be alone. I get that, but that’s not a reason for us to make love tonight for the first time. It should be you and me in that bed because we want to be with each other, not because you need a distraction. I’m not saying that’s all it is, I’m saying I want it to be only that you want me.”
She slid her hands up his chest over tight muscles and sighed because she wanted to yank his shirt off, feel his skin against hers, and lose herself in his arms. But he was right. She couldn’t say that wanting him, taking that next step in their relationship, wasn’t prompted more out of her grief and need to connect with him than it was the overwhelming urge she always felt in his presence and when she thought about him to be closer to him. She’d never felt this kind of deep attraction to someone. He wanted that attraction to be more than a physical release or consoling her. He wanted a commitment and a promise of a future built on trust. He didn’t want to be used even in the smallest way.
Stone Cold Cowboy Page 17