by Sabrina York
She couldn’t help herself. She ran to him—stranger that he was—and hugged him. Hanna did the same, but all the men settled on handshakes and effusive thanks.
“I suppose we should go home now,” Logan said, settling his arm around Hanna and smiling down at her.
Hanna nodded. “We should go relieve Claire. She’s been with Mom all day.”
Sidney couldn’t help glancing at Cody, and her heart plummeted. With Hanna and Logan here, there was no reason for him to stay with her tonight, or return here tomorrow, and they both knew it. He forced a smile at her.
“You going to be okay?”
She nodded, but she wasn’t. Not really. She didn’t want him to leave.
Tragically, he took her at face value and swallowed heavily and turned to the Wilders. “You are all welcome to stay at the ranch tonight. It’s a long drive back to Dallas.”
“Aw,” Rafe said. “We couldn’t put you out.”
“Not at all. Besides Cade would have a hissy fit if he missed you. There’s plenty of space.”
“Yeah,” Ben chuckled. “But I made a vow I would never spend a night at the Stud Ranch.”
Brandon chuckled. “Me too.”
Rafe glowered at his brothers. “Quit being such pussies. Besides, I bet we can get a poker game going, toss in some alcohol and win back what Cody stole from us last time.”
“I didn’t steal it,” Cody grumbled, but Sidney could tell he was only kidding.
“That does sound like fun,” Logan said with a grimace.
Hanna peeped up at him. “You can go,” she said.
He shook his head and kissed her on the forehead. “I couldn’t leave you alone.”
“I won’t be alone, silly. Sidney will be there. It will be like old times. Besides, you and I don’t need to be joined at the hip.”
Logan flicked a longing glance at the guys. “Are you sure?”
Hanna blew out a laugh. “Go.”
As they all headed out to the parking garage, Rafe suggested they call Ford and make it a real party and all the guys laughed.
Walking behind them, Sidney watched their interactions and something warm blossomed in her chest. Even though she wasn’t going to Cody’s to play poker, she still felt part of something. A collection of friends who really cared about one another and enjoyed being in one another’s presence.
It was something . . . special. And she was a part of it.
“You okay?” Hanna asked, sidling up beside her and taking her hand.
“I’m good.” Sidney gave her a quick squeeze.
“You don’t mind it being just the two of us tonight?”
Something in Hanna’s tone caught her attention, something almost . . . apologetic, and Sidney gaped at her. “Of course I don’t mind. I love the idea. It’s been a long time since we’ve . . . had any time together.”
“Oh, good. I was hoping you’d feel that way. I’ve . . . missed you.”
It was clear the words were difficult for Hanna. Their relationship had never been an easy one. But somehow, it seemed easy now, for which Sidney was grateful. She loved her sister, and it was nice to have this comfort with her. It was as though they’d finally accepted each other’s differences and rather than quibbling about them, had embraced them.
They said farewell to the guys in a round of hugs, but the only hug Sidney was really aware of was Cody’s. When he whispered “sweet dreams” in her ear, it sent a shiver down her spine.
She pulled away and tipped her head to her side, unsure how to express what she wanted, needed from him. Finally she said, in a hopeful, chipper voice that utterly belied her dismal mood, she said, “Will I see you tomorrow?”
His expression went somber. “Do you . . . ah . . . want to?”
“Yes.” Very much.
His broad grin made her heart flippity-flop. “Then I will make that happen. Sleep well, Sidney,” he said, and he kissed her on the forehead.
As sweet and tender and freaking gentlemanly as that was, it wasn’t what she wanted. But everyone was there and watching, so she could hardly yank him into a blazing embrace.
Damn it all anyway.
The boys waited until Hanna started Logan’s truck before they all pulled out, and they followed them out of town, honking as Hanna turned into the drive of their home. The Stud Ranch was about twenty minutes more down that road. She and Hanna would probably be in bed by the time the guys started their poker game.
But they didn’t count on Lisa and Claire, who were both at the house waiting for them; they’d decided it was more fun to work together to take care of Mom. When they heard about the poker game, they both made faces and insisted they’d rather stay here, which resulted in something of a slumber party. They all got in their jammies and made ice cream sundaes and pillow forts in the living room and then they watched chick flicks.
The funny part was that even Mom participated, which was wonderful, because she rarely participated in anything anymore. But she loved the ice cream. She finished her bowl and dejectedly looked around for more.
Hanna chuckled. “Let me get you another,” she said.
They’d both learned long ago not to ask. There came a point when someone with Alzheimer’s no longer had the capability to answer questions about what they wanted. And the questions only confused them. Sidney and Hanna knew to present things as a statement—it’s time for a bath or bedtime or it’s chicken for dinner. Sidney knew it was easier for Mom to have someone bring her more dessert. If she didn’t want it, she wouldn’t eat it.
Apparently she did. It was delightful to watch the childlike glee with which her mother attacked the whipped cream and cherries on top, giggling and murmuring to herself.
She and Hanna exchanged a glance, and then a smile.
As difficult as it had been to lose their mother in this slow dreadful slide, there were, occasionally, moments like this. Moments they could cling to.
According to the support groups they’d attended, this phase of her disease would not last forever. She would become less and less responsive and eventually her physical condition would deteriorate to the point that she could no longer stay in her home. And eventually they would lose her.
It was heartbreaking, more than Sidney would bear to manage. So she’d dealt with her grief by ignoring it. By living in a dingy apartment over a Chinese restaurant and filling her days with busy work so she wouldn’t have to think about such things.
Most specifically what she’d lost. What she was still losing.
Now, sitting here with Hanna and their friends, specifically with Mom, she realized what an idiot she’d been. And a coward.
You couldn’t run from something like this. It followed you no matter where you went.
You couldn’t ignore it, because it was always there, hovering.
What she should have done was face it, head-on.
She should have made it a point to spend every possible second with her mother, soaking in the gifts of each moment, as rare and fleeting as they were. She should have focused on honoring who her mother was now rather than grieving for what she’d been.
She should have been here for her father, supporting him. Helping him—even though he was the type to insist he didn’t need any damn help.
Oddly, hauntingly, that had been her attitude as well.
It had served neither of them well.
Sidney couldn’t help thinking that if she had been here—whether he wanted her help or not—maybe Dad wouldn’t have pushed himself past his limits, maybe he wouldn’t now be in hospital clinging to life.
“What on earth are you thinking about?” Hanna asked. “You look fierce.”
Sidney blinked, surprised to be caught out. She forced a smile. “Fierce in the modelesque way?” She flicked her hair to make a joke of it.
Hanna shook her head. �
��Fierce in the ‘Winter is coming’ kind of way.”
“Really? That fierce?”
“Yes.” Hanna nudged her with her knee. “What are you thinking? Really?” Her tone made it clear she wouldn’t tolerate any prevarication, especially in the form of a lame jest.
“Dad,” Sidney said with a sigh.
Hanna squeezed her hand. “He’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure he will be. I was just thinking . . .”
“What?”
“You know, they say it’s the caregivers who go first.”
Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so blunt. Hanna reared back with a look of horror on her face.
“That is true,” Lisa said, setting her bowl of ice cream on the table. Mom, with a glint in her eye, picked it up and started chowing down.
“I just can’t help thinking if I . . .”
“Oh God, Sidney,” Hanna gasped. “This is not your fault.”
“Isn’t it? I could have been here. Should have been here.”
“Dad is a grown-up. I lectured him incessantly about getting more help. He’s the one who didn’t want strangers in the house.”
“I know. But we could have . . .”
“What?”
“Forced him.”
Hanna snorted something that might have been a laugh. “Forced him? Have you met our father? No one forces him to do anything. Especially when it means admitting that he cannot do it all.”
“Your dad is pretty stubborn,” Claire said with a wink. “He always has been.”
“Besides, it’s pointless to steep yourself in what-ifs.”
“True.” Lisa nodded. “What matters now is what comes next. How do you move forward, making sure he stays healthy and whole?”
“I’m staying with him,” Sidney said before she even processed the urge. But she knew it was right. She knew it was what she had to do. It was her turn to carry the load. Both Dad and Hanna had done their part to keep the family afloat. Now it was her turn to step up to the plate.
“What about your job?” Hanna asked in a whisper. “Your apartment? You love living in Dallas.” It was hard not to gape at her sister, but really, it should be no surprise Hanna thought all that was true. It was what Sidney had told her, for years, in gushing raptures.
It was, of course, all a lie.
Oh, she liked living in the city, where you could get Chinese or Greek or Italian at all hours, but that was the extent of her passion for urban life.
She hated her job, hated her apartment and hated the hollow feel of her existence.
“Family is more important,” she said. And it was true.
“I can’t let you give all that up. I’ll move back.”
A familiar annoyance at her sister—who always had to be the goody-two-shoed hero—rose like bile in her throat. “No. You won’t. You have Logan to think about. And your career.” Hanna had found tremendous success with her paintings after years of rejection. It was unthinkable that she sacrifice everything she’d struggled for when all Sidney had to release was exceptional failure.
“But Sidney—”
Well, crap. Hanna’s expression was tortured.
It was time to reveal the truth.
“Hanna. I work as a bikini barista. It’s not going to kill me to give that up.”
“But you’ve spent years building your career.”
“It’s not a career.” And Wayne, the owner, didn’t see her any different than all the other girls, with the singular exception of the fact that she was the only one getting long in the tooth. All the other girls left—for something exciting—long before they achieved any kind of tenure. The only reason Sidney was the “manager” was because she was the one who regularly showed up for work. Because she had nothing else to do. No parties, no dates, no real friends. Nothing.
And she had to wear a bikini to work.
At her age.
It was practically pathetic.
“I’m ready for a change.” Another surprise, but her mouth seemed to have its own mind tonight.
Claire and Lisa exchanged a glance and when Lisa nodded, Claire said, “Well, if you’re interested, we’ve been thinking about bringing on more help at the ranch.”
Sidney stared at her. Then laughed. It was a harsh offering. “You realize I have no salable skills?”
“You can make coffee,” Claire pointed out.
“Only if I’m in a bikini.” And yeah, her tone was slightly sarcastic.
“It’s not brain surgery,” Lisa said. “As we get more bookings we need help with everything from making beds to serving meals.”
“And setting up the events,” Claire said. “Sheesh. I could use some help with that.”
“You guys are just saying that.” She loved that they would lie like this to make her feel better, but it did make her a tad uncomfortable. What with her so used to being a loner and all. This . . . belonging shit was new to her and would require some adjustment.
Claire frowned at her. “No. We’re not just saying that.” She turned her frown on Lisa. “Are we?”
“We’re absolutely overwhelmed. And to be frank, I could use a sous chef in the kitchen.”
“My cooking is hardly at chef caliber.”
Lisa shot a disparaging glance at Claire. “But you can bake a potato without having it explode, right?”
Sidney tipped her head to the side. “Why would it explode? You just poke it with a fork.”
To which Lisa sniffed and stared superciliously at Claire. “Exactly.”
“What? No one told me to poke the freaking potatoes.”
“Because everyone knows you poke the potatoes. And then there’s the little-known cooking skill called putting the lid on the blender.”
“That only happened twice.”
“It took hours to clean blueberry crème from the ceiling.”
Claire grinned. “It was tasty though.”
“You see what I have to put up with?” Lisa asked. “Please say you’ll think about it.”
“Oh do,” Claire urged. “I’m really tired of having Lisa repeat all these stories.”
“Seriously?” Lisa chuckled. “You realize I’ll never stop telling these stories, right? You’ll be some old toothless woman, and I’ll be telling these stories to your grandchildren.”
“You are such a wench.” But Claire’s growl was offered in a teasing note. It was clear these two were great friends and absolutely enjoyed each other’s presence, which was nice, because when Cade and Lisa married, they’d be sisters.
What a lovely thought.
Sidney glanced at Hanna and Claire and Lisa in turn.
They’d be a veritable tribe. What a lovely, lovely thought.
Mom’s head started nodding, and Sidney stood. “Oh my, Mom,” she said. “It’s time for bed. Let’s go brush our teeth.” Always biddable, her mother stood and headed for the stairs.
“Do you need help?” Hanna asked, but Sidney shook her head.
It was time she started handling this by herself.
It was time she devoted herself to family.
And the decision felt good.
Chapter Seventeen
Cody was nursing a sore head and gingerly sipping black coffee when Claire and Lisa returned from Sidney’s place the next morning. Logan and Cade had had the right idea and were sleeping in. The two women headed straight for the coffeepot and frowned when they found it empty. With a heavy sigh, Lisa started making a new pot.
He attempted a shrug. “Sorry. The guys took some for the road.” The Wilders had left at first light and hadn’t been shy about helping themselves. Not that Cody minded. He’d made a killing last night at poker. He grinned at the memory.
“How was the game?” Claire asked.
“Excellent.”
“Hmm. Sounds li
ke someone won.”
He batted his lashes. “I can’t help it. I have an excellent poker face.”
“Is that what it is?” Lisa said with a chuckle. She pulled out a coffee cake and warmed it in the microwave.
The delicious aroma filled the room, and he moaned. “I’m starving.”
“Really?” Lisa said in a tone that should have warned him. “Do you know what I heard?” she asked.
“What?”
“I heard a rumor that men have these things called fingers and they can use them to make their own food sometimes.”
“Really?” Claire gasped in an astounded tone. “What will they think of next?”
Cody scowled at them. “I can make my own food,” he insisted. “I just wasn’t hungry until I smelled that.”
Claire snorted. “You’re always hungry.”
“Not when he drinks that much the night before,” Cade said with a chuckle. He stepped into the room, fresh from his shower with his hair slicked back. He made a beeline to Lisa and kissed her long and hard. “I missed you last night,” he said.
She smacked him on the shoulder. “Like hell you did. You guys probably partied all night.”
“We did, but I still missed you.”
She finally softened and kissed him back. “I missed you too, but we had a nice time.” She and Cade carried plates, utensils, and that amazing-smelling coffee cake to the table. Cody quickly helped himself to a big slice.
“How are Hanna and Sidney doing?” Cade asked as he did the same, and Cody was hit with a wave of chagrin. He should have been the first to ask.
“Yeah. How are they?”
Lisa shrugged. “As well as can be expected. Naturally, they were both a little more distracted than usual.”
“Of course.”
“But it was nice. Just the girls.”
Claire nodded. “We had a great talk.”
“Sidney surprised me though,” Lisa said as she forked a hunk of cake into her mouth. Cody stared at her, waiting for her to elaborate. She didn’t.
“Surprised me too,” Claire said.
“I always thought she was happy.”
“I know.”