by Wood, Vivian
No, this time he dreamed of the sand.
The thing he remembered the most about Camp Leatherneck was the sand. Everywhere he looked, all around was sand. The camp was built on sand. What little wasn’t actual sand, the actual base, was colored like sand. Camouflage, yeah…
But if he blinked, he could almost miss the base and just see an endless sea of sand dunes, stretching out across the parched, barren terrain.
The sand got into everything. Boots, toothpaste, bunk, food. Long bouts of inactivity between missions, boredom for days and days on end, all while feeling trapped by the sand, feeling like he’d never get out.
He remembered that specific moment, camping bivouac style with no tents about 300 miles from Leatherneck. They were returning from a recon mission, taking their time about it.
Sawyer remembered packing up camp. Holding up his boot, turning it upside down to make sure nothing had crawled in there overnight. He remembered watching sand slither and fall, the fine tawny grains sliding from his shoe and catching the breeze…
He felt the impact before he heard or saw it, felt the IED rumble and explode.
CRACK.
Sawyer sat up in his bed, an anguished wail escaping his lungs. He felt sick, his chest tight. His body hot, his arms cold, covered in sweat and shaking like a leaf.
Blinking into the early morning Louisiana light, he rose and went to the window.
CRACK.
He nearly jumped out of his skin as the sound came again. Drawing back the curtain, he peered outside. Only 20 feet away, Walker was stripped to the waist, chopping wood.
No doubt it was Walker’s way of paying Sawyer back for bringing up Walker’s fiancée the previous evening.
Letting the curtain drop, Sawyer walked back over to sink down on his bed, burying his face in his hands.
What a way to start the day, he thought to himself.
Sawyer had better luck at the second work social. The River family turned out in full force to the Scott Farm, where the men helped with the same kind of backbreaking barn repairs from the previous social, while the women all worked to process and can various jellies and vegetables on tables just outside.
Early in the day, Sawyer took a break to grab some water. Leaving the barn, he walked up behind Remy and Shelby, who were clearly in the throes of a heated argument. Tucked away at the side of the barn, the two blonde sisters couldn’t see him, giving him a prime chance to eavesdrop.
“Sawyer’s going to find out,” Shelby hissed, pointing a finger at Remy. “He’s not stupid, you know.”
“It’s none of his business,” Remy said, folding her arms across her chest.
“Remy, this is just wrong, and you know it.”
Walker strode up behind Sawyer, clearing his throat. Both women turned and spotted Sawyer and Walker, Remy and Shelby both going a little pale.
“Just coming for some water,” Sawyer said, narrowing his gaze.
“Mmm,” Shelby said, drawing Remy away.
“Interesting,” Sawyer mumbled to Walker. “They were just talking about me. About how I was going to find out about something.”
Walker glanced at Sawyer, shrugged, and moved toward the house.
The rest of the day, anytime Sawyer saw Remy she was surrounded by a gaggle of older ladies, making herself integral to canning or quilting, flitting from one thing to the next. Keeping herself distant from the rest of the group, basically avoiding everyone her own age.
If it weren’t for her frilly pink tank top and the way she filled out those jeans, she would’ve blended right in with the other women.
All through the morning, he kept stealing glances at her, sometimes catching her looking back. Thinking, all the while, about what he’d overheard earlier.
He’s going to find out. This is wrong.
It wasn’t until high noon, during the huge buffet-style lunch, that he had an opportunity to approach her. Sawyer saw Remy grab a mason jar full of lemonade, look around furtively, and then sneak off toward the back of the barn.
By the time he followed her, she was out of sight, but the well-worn path leading down to the river made her trail obvious enough. The trees grew in close as he headed down, shading him from the burning sun.
He could see why she’d come down here-shade and solitude.
He found her sitting on the gnarled stump of a tree, jeans rolled up to her knees with her feet in the water. A pose he’d seen her take a hundred times, back when they were kids.
“Hey,” he said.
Remy looked up at him, her eyes a little wide.
“Oh. Hey,” she said, her lips thinning.
“I followed you down here,” he said, shrugging apologetically.
“I see that,” she said, glancing away.
“Listen, Remy,” he said. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
She looked back at him, her blue gaze so sharp it practically cut him. She pursed her lips and frowned, but didn’t speak.
“I was thinking maybe you’d let me take you out,” he said. “As an apology, I mean.”
“No,” she said, without a moment’s hesitation.
“Remy…”
“Sawyer, I said no.”
“Why are you avoiding me, Remy? Just tell me that it’s something I did, and I can accept that. I can make it up to you. This stonewalling, I can’t handle.”
“Maybe I don’t care what you can handle, Sawyer.”
Remy pulled her feet from the water and grabbed her shoes, clearly intending to leave. When she shoved her feet into her shoes and stood, she turned her glare onto Sawyer, realizing she couldn’t leave without passing him.
“Move, please,” she said, all her anger simmering right below the surface, plain enough to see.
“Talk to me,” Sawyer insisted. “I know you may not like me right now, but I was there at the church social. I kissed you, you kissed me back.”
“It was a mistake,” Remy said. “Now let me pass.”
“Not until you talk to me,” Sawyer said, sweeping off his Stetson.
Remy’s gaze dropped to his feet. “See you finally got some proper boots.”
“Doing my best to fit in again,” Sawyer said with a shrug. “I’m thinking about staying here, permanently.”
Remy’s expression went hard.
“Well, I’m not part of your plans,” Remy said, shifting uncomfortably.
“You could be, if you wanted. You just have to talk to me about whatever’s going on.”
Remy stared at him for a second, those big blue eyes wide and haunted. Almost, maybe, for the slightest second, Sawyer felt she was about to admit something.
Then, instead, she shrugged. “Not everything is about you, Sawyer. I thought the military would’ve taught you that.”
“Tell me what it is about, then,” he insisted.
“I don’t have time for this, Sawyer,” Remy sighed. “I don’t have like… the emotional energy to deal with this, this thing where we glance at each other over our shoulders and make eyes. I have bigger things going on in my life, trying to save the damn farm…”
She trailed off, shaking her head.
“The farm’s in trouble, then?” he asked.
Remy pinned him with her gaze.
“It’s not for you to worry about,” she said slowly. “If there was a time for us, Sawyer, it’s long past. If you want to make me happy, just back off. And stop snooping around in my business. I promise you, it won’t end well for either of us.”
The sound of a twig snapping drew their attention toward the path. The young redhead that Sawyer’d met at the bar the other night approached, this time wearing low-slung jeans and a pink wife-beater.
“Oh, hey,” she said to Sawyer. “Just thought I’d come say hi.”
Sawyer could feel the anger in Remy’s gaze. “It’s not what you think.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Remy, don’t—”
“Get out of of my damned way, Sawyer, or I swear I’m
going to push you into the creek,” Remy snarled.
Sawyer stared at Remy for several long seconds, listening to his heart thrum in his chest. He’d pushed her too far somehow, that much was certain.
He bowed his head and stepped back, making room for her to pass. After a moment, Remy brushed past him, stalking up the hill.
Leaving him standing there at the bottom, squinting against the sunlight at her retreating back.
Monday morning, after another fitful night of sleep, Sawyer rose early and waited for his brothers in the kitchen. He had coffee and bacon and biscuits going when Walker and Colt came in, both of his brothers instantly giving him suspicious looks.
“What’s all this?” Colt asked.
“Call it… a declaration of intent,” Sawyer said, nodding to the empty seats at the kitchen bar.
“It’s too early for this,” Walker groused, though he seemed less grumpy once Sawyer poured coffee for all three of them.
Colt and Walker sipped in silence for a few moments, as was their collective habit. Finally, Colt pushed his coffee mug back.
“Do I smell bacon?” he asked.
“Yup,” Sawyer said.
He laid out a plate of bacon, with biscuits and butter and honey. He stayed standing as they dug in, Colt making an appreciative sound on his first bite of honeyed biscuit.
“What’s the intent?” Walker asked after a moment.
“I want to stay,” Sawyer said. “But not like this. I want to bring back Mom’s business.”
Colt and Walker stared at him, Colt scratching his chin and leaving a trail of biscuit crumbs in his wake.
“You want to run the dude ranch again?” Walker asked.
“Do you have any idea how much work that would be?” Colt said, right on his heels.
“I remember Mom and The Colonel just about pulling their hair out over it, at the beginning,” Sawyer said, cocking his head. “But think about it. Profits are at an all-time low right now. We could still provide livestock to surrounding farms and run a tourist business. Start small, get a staff in here to help, build up from there.”
“The land rights are totally different now than they were back then,” Walker said, shaking his head.
“Yeah, The Colonel sold off a third of the outlying field after…” Colt said, then stopped mid-sentence.
After Mom died, he meant, but the Roman brothers didn’t exactly talk about that.
“I know,” Sawyer said. “Which is why I think we need to renegotiate land rights with the Rivers.”
Colt and Walker’s brows shot up at the same time, reminding Sawyer just how identical he and his brothers looked.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Walker said. “You’re making this into a play for Remy?”
“No,” Sawyer said, pressing a palm against the tabletop. “No. I know the River farm is failing. I already wanted to start the dude ranch up again, but this just makes it even easier. We’d hire less outside help, keep on the guys we have and maybe get the River siblings over here to help, too. Then we’d profit share, give the horses and cattle run of the unplanted fields every season.”
Colt scowled, but Walker merely tilted his head and squinted, thinking.
“It makes a kind of sense,” Walker said after a moment.
“It’s charity,” Colt said. “The Colonel will have a heart attack.”
“It’s not charity,” Sawyer said, trying to keep the heat from his tone. “It’s what Mom would have done. They need money, we need help and more space. It’s simple and smart.”
Colt heaved a sigh. “I can’t argue against that part, but you have to admit that you’re doing at least some of this for Remy.”
“I won’t deny it,” Sawyer said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not doing it out of loyalty to our neighbors, or because it’s common damned sense.”
“She doesn’t want you,” Colt told him, leaning back in his chair and giving Sawyer a hard look.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t owe her something,” Sawyer said.
Colt and Walker slid each other a look.
“This is your moment,” Sawyer said. “This is the moment you tell me what’s going on. You know that, right?”
Colt cleared his throat, while Walker just looked away. Neither responded to Sawyer.
“Fine,” Sawyer said. “Keep blackballing me, until whatever this is blows way out of proportion. But if one of you can’t give me a good reason why we shouldn’t follow this plan, or if you refuse to consider it because of some ridiculous secret, I’m leaving. First plane out tomorrow, and you can do whatever you want with the ranch.”
Sawyer stood, picking up his coffee mug and plate. He turned toward the sink, intending to start the dishes and then spend the day alone. His brothers, however, interpreted his move as a dramatic threat to leave.
“Wait,” Colt said. “Don’t be like that.”
Sawyer turned. Colt and Walker both wore the same grim expression, and damn if Sawyer didn’t wish he knew what it meant.
“Well?” Sawyer asked.
After one last glance at Colt, Walker stood. “We’ll do it.”
Sawyer couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face.
“Just like that? We’re in business?” he asked.
“We’re in business,” Colt said, standing and coming over to clap Sawyer and Walker on the back. “Now there’s just the tiny matter of convincing the Rivers…”
Sawyer nodded, knowing that it was much easier said than done.
11
When Sawyer knocked on Remy’s front door, he braced himself for another go-around with Remy’s father Braxton. The door swung open to reveal Remy instead, and he released a breath.
“It’s you,” he said.
“What are you doing here?” Remy asked, staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “Are you crazy?”
Remy was in jeans and a tight white t-shirt, hair thrown up in a messy bun, and looking way better than she had any real right to. Sawyer ripped his gaze from her body and gave her a tentative smile.
“I’m here to talk about saving your farm,” he announced.
Remy’s gaze narrowed on him. “Keep your voice down!”
Sawyer glanced around behind him, then gave Remy a skeptical glance.
“Who am I hiding from?” he asked.
Remy opened the door all the way and shooed him back a step, then closed the door behind herself.
“Look, my dad and I are the only ones who know about… what I told you the other day. So if you don’t mind, I’d rather you didn’t go around announcing it.”
Sawyer crossed his arms over his chest, not missing the way that Remy’s eyes drifted down to check him out.
Damn, she does still have the hots for you… somewhere under all that anger, he thought to himself.
“No problem,” he said easily, unable to keep the smirk off his face. When she glanced up and realized she’d been busted, she colored.
“You need to leave.”
“Or you’ll kiss me again?”
Her mouth opened, a shocked sound escaping as she worked to control herself.
“You kissed me,” she hissed, lowering her voice.
“Sure.”
Remy reached out and smacked him on the arm, looking offended.
“Will you leave?” she said, her face red.
Sawyer repressed the grin that threatened to burst free, knowing he needed to get serious before she slammed the door in his face again.
“I came here to talk to your father about a joint venture between the Romans and the Rivers.”
“Work together, you mean?” she asked, the fine line between her brows knitting together.
“Yeah. I have a plan that I think could be really lucrative for both of our families,” Sawyer said.
“So you’re not doing this to ingratiate yourself with me?” Remy asked.
“Well… maybe a little,” he said, giving her a teasing grin.
“Sawyer, I don�
��t even know what to tell you right now,” she said, looking annoyed.
“Look, Remy,” he said, reaching out and catching her hand. To his surprise, she didn’t yank her fingers from his grasp. “I’m serious about this business proposal. You have to know I’m serious, since your brother threatened to kick my ass for talking to you, and your father told me he’d shoot me if I came back here. Give me a little credit, will you?”
Remy softened a little, then flapped a hand. “Go around the side of the house to the picnic table. I’ll get my dad.”
She was gone before he could say another word, the front door closing firmly in his face. Sawyer headed around the side of the house, taking a seat on the picnic table to wait for Remy and her father.
They were hard to miss, because Sawyer could hear them arguing as they approached.
“I told that son of a bitch—” Braxton grumbled.
“Daddy, just listen,” Remy said as they came around the corner.
“Mr. River,” Sawyer said, inclining his head. “Thank you for seeing me.”
Braxton just huffed. “Get on with it before I get my shotgun out of the truck.”
It only took Sawyer a minute to run through his plan, since there was only a brief sketch so far. The Rivers would temporarily cede unplanted acres for trail rides and grazing, and help with whatever positions the dude ranch demanded. In exchange, the Romans would give them a 50 percent stake in the new business.
When Sawyer finished, there was silence as Braxton considered his words. Remy didn’t say anything, just sat and avoided Sawyer’s gaze.
“I won’t let you do this,” Braxton River said, shaking his head slowly. “You Romans, thinking you can come over here and flash your money and have whatever you want. You can’t buy my daughter’s affections, Sawyer Roman.”
“Daddy!” Remy said, turning red. “That’s not what he’s doing.”
“No? You think I’m too old to see what’s going on here?” her father grumbled.
“Daddy,” Remy said, placing a hand on her father’s arm. “Let’s be honest, here. The farm is going to fail in less than a year without some kind of financial relief. This deal… it’s the break you’ve been praying for.”