A Rancher to Remember

by Patricia Johns

  “Horsey!” Lizzie said, pointing. She hopped up and down. “Daddy! Horsey!”

  “She must like horses,” Olivia said. “Should we take them over to get a closer look?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  But his mind wasn’t on his daughter’s delight. He was wondering why he felt some strange sense of connectedness with Olivia, and had felt nothing when Lloyd had shown him pictures of his dead wife. What did that say about him? Had Sawyer been a good husband? Had he harbored feelings for another woman? He didn’t like that thought. He might not remember anything, but he did have a sense of right and wrong.

  Who was I?

  And would he be proud of who he was once he figured that out?

  They headed down a straight road that led to the barn. There were no workers around that Sawyer could see, and the lowing of cattle that came on the grass-scented breeze was oddly soothing to his system. He sucked in a deep breath, feeling the muscles in his shoulders relax.

  Bella came over to Sawyer and held up her hands. He picked her up and she settled against his shoulder, one tiny hand planted on the back of his neck. Lizzie came running up, too, but Olivia swept her up into her arms and made an exaggerated surprised face.

  “What happened there?” Olivia asked Lizzie. “Did I get you?”

  Lizzie laughed, and Sawyer couldn’t help but smile. He’d known these toddlers for all of two days that he could remember, but he was already attached. Sawyer led the way over to the corral.

  The largest of the two horses ambled over toward them, pushing his nose into Sawyer’s chest, snuffling against his pocket.

  “I didn’t think to bring a treat,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at Olivia.

  “All we have in the bag is Cheerios and cheese cubes,” Olivia said with a low laugh.

  “Horsey...” Bella breathed, and then she put a hand on the horse’s long nose.

  The horse pulled back, shaking his head, and moved over toward Olivia. She took a step back.

  “Sorry, buddy,” she said.

  The horse ambled off again, and Sawyer felt all of his own tension seeping away. Bella clearly loved horses, but it looked like he did, too. There was something about those rippling muscles, the shining coats, the smell of dust and sweat and the tang of manure...

  “Num-nums,” Lizzie said, patting Olivia’s shoulder. “Num-nums.”

  “I think she wants her snack.”

  Sawyer passed her the diaper bag, and she squatted down, put Lizzie on the ground and opened the bag. Lizzie looked into the depth and pulled out a plastic container of cheese cubes. Olivia opened it for her and she reached in and came out with a single cube between two chubby fingers.

  “Mmm. That looks good,” Olivia murmured.

  “Num-nums!” Bella said, launching herself downward.

  “Whoa!” Her motion caught Sawyer by surprise, and he almost dropped the girl before he was able to get a grip on her wriggling body. He managed to deposit her on the ground right side up. Bella headed straight for the cheese cubes. Such trust—the kid hadn’t even paused to appreciate that she hadn’t landed on her head.

  Olivia held the container out toward Bella. Sawyer was glad that Olivia was here to think of things like snacks. Maybe he needed more help around here than he thought.

  “Lizzie?” Olivia stood up, and Sawyer looked around, scanning for the girl. She was gone...and both of their gazes swung toward the corral.

  Somehow, the toddler slipped away in those few heartbeats when her sister had the attention, and little Lizzie with her ruffled curls and little pink running shoes stood in the center of the corral, her face tipped upward in rapture as she stared up at the massive stallion.

  Sawyer’s heart thudded to a stop.

  Chapter Three

  Olivia shot out a hand out, grabbing Bella by the arm before she could follow her sister. How had Olivia done that—completely missed Lizzie disappearing? Tears of panic rose in her eyes.

  Lizzie stood next to the irritable stallion, and it was like time slowed to a crawl and Olivia could see every single, painstaking detail as the toddler reached her hand out toward the stallion’s leg. He lifted his hoof and brought it down in a sharp stamp, dust billowing up from the ground around his hoof.

  Olivia pulled Bella up into her arms and had taken a step toward the corral when Sawyer’s iron grip caught her by the shoulder.

  “No,” he snapped. “Stay here.”

  His tone was so authoritative that she stopped in her tracks, watching as he ducked down under a rail, easing his body through. Sawyer straightened to his full height and walked slowly toward his daughter.

  The stallion snorted and pawed the ground, eyeing Sawyer with an irritable glint in his eye. Lizzie reached out and touched the stallion’s knee, and in response, the big animal reared up, hooves pawing the air.

  Sawyer dashed in, caught Lizzie up in one arm, and put a protective hand up as the stallion came back down again.

  “Whoa...” Sawyer intoned. “Whoa now... Hey...”

  The stallion made another couple of little jumps with his front hooves, but didn’t rear again. Sawyer stayed facing the horse and backed slowly toward the fence again. When he got there, he handed Lizzie over the rails into Olivia’s arms, then ducked down and eased himself through.

  Olivia held both girls tightly, her heart hammering in her chest.

  “That was close—” she breathed.

  “Yeah—a little too close,” Sawyer said, glancing over his shoulder toward the stallion once more. “That horse is in a mood. I doubt he’s even ridable.”

  He sounded like himself again—knowledgeable, confident.

  “I wouldn’t know,” she said. “But you did. Sawyer, you knew what to do!”

  Sawyer’s gaze flipped toward her, and he smiled weakly. “I did. You’re right. I knew what to do. I knew the signs. I know what an angry horse looks like...”

  “Do you remember anything else?” she asked hopefully.

  Sawyer licked his lips, glanced back toward the corral. Then he sighed and took Lizzie from her arms.

  “Nah. I’m trying. I don’t know why I knew what to do, I just—”

  “You reacted,” she said.

  “I guess.” He started toward the road, and Olivia grabbed the diaper bag and caught up to him. He was a tall man, and she almost had to jog to keep up.

  “Sawyer, slow down,” she said with a low laugh.

  “Sorry.” He cast her a rueful smile.

  “Horsey!” Lizzie said, leaning her entire body toward the corral.

  “Yeah, that’s enough of that,” Sawyer said.

  They walked together in silence for a few paces, and Olivia eyed Sawyer.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was the one who had Lizzie, and I got distracted for a minute there—”

  “It’s okay.” Sawyer glanced down at her, those dark eyes catching her gaze and holding it. “I guess we just found out how fast these kids are.”

  “I guess,” she agreed. “I’m new to this, too.”

  “Not a bad thing to know.” Sawyer looked down at Lizzie grimly. “Fast and cute. I’m in trouble.”

  Olivia was tempted to laugh, but Sawyer’s solemn expression hadn’t changed a bit.

  “My heart nearly stopped,” Sawyer said, turning toward Olivia. “When I saw her in there next to that horse, I thought I was going to throw up. I mean, like more than just regular panic when a kid’s not where she should be...”

  “Like a dad,” Olivia said softly.

  “Is that what it’s like to be a father?” he asked.

  “I think so,” she said. A memory of her own dad rose in her mind—foggy, maybe even mostly made up at this point. She had a couple of pictures of her father, but he’d left them when she was eight and her brother wasn’t much older than the toddlers w
ere.

  “I feel really bad that I don’t know my daughters,” Sawyer went on. “What kind of a dad forgets his kids?”

  “This accident wasn’t your fault,” she countered. At least with Sawyer it had been an accident. Her father had just walked out—done with all of them, apparently.

  “I know, but—” His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I don’t remember how I felt when they were born, but I do know how I felt when I saw Lizzie in that corral. I don’t think I’ve forgotten everything.”

  The toddlers both began to squirm, and they put them down to let them run ahead. Sawyer was somber.

  “Are you okay?” Olivia asked after some silence.

  “Was I a good man?” he asked, and the question seemed to come out of the blue. She eyed him for a moment.

  “Of course!” She started to smile, but then saw the seriousness in his gaze. “Sawyer, you were an upright guy. You worked hard and loved hard. You were honest. You were a real salt-of-the-earth type.”

  “Thing is, I don’t remember my wife,” he said. “At least I don’t think so. I remember a black coat. Did she have a black coat?”

  “I don’t know,” Olivia said. “But honestly, Sawyer. You don’t seem to remember much of anyone. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  “When I saw you, I didn’t know you, but you felt...familiar. Like with my instincts with Lizzie just now, I sensed that you were someone who mattered to me.”

  “Isn’t that good to have it start to come back?” she asked tentatively.

  “Did you have a black coat?” he asked.

  “Maybe?” She eyed him uncertainly. “Why?”

  “I think I remember a woman in a coat. Whatever. It’s not much more than that. It could be anyone. But I’ve looked at my wedding album,” Sawyer said. “I’ve held the wedding rings in my hand. I looked at the engagement ring I bought for her...and nothing. I didn’t feel a thing.”

  “Did you feel anything when you saw my picture?” she asked.

  He hesitated. “No.”

  “Maybe it’s just that—I’m a real person. A picture is different.”

  Olivia put a hand on his arm and they slowed to a stop. The girls stopped ahead to investigate some buttercups at the side of the road.

  “Sawyer, you were a good guy,” she said firmly. “And you loved each other. Mia knew you inside and out, and she trusted you.”

  “Then why did you back off?” he asked pointedly. “You’d think we could have emailed, kept up on social media...something.”

  Why did he keep picking at this? Why did he want to know every uncomfortable detail about their friendship? In some ways, they had been too close. In other ways, they’d never opened up enough. It had been a painful balancing act toward the end, and it was a relief when Mia had gone all moon-eyed over him, because Mia had been willing to throw herself into a relationship with Sawyer. That was the way these things were supposed to work—fall for each other, and then go for it! When it came to Sawyer and Olivia, they’d fallen for each other, and then held back.

  “I was leaving town. I hated this place, Sawyer! What do you want me to say? I couldn’t make my life here—I needed the city, where no one knew me so I could figure out who I was from scratch. This town is gossipy and can be downright cruel. I was ready to shake the dust off my boots and get out of here. Beaut couldn’t be my home. You knew that. Besides, you had Mia. So maybe that was a bit painful for me.”

  Sawyer paused. She’d said too much already.

  “Why was that painful?”

  “I backed off after your wedding because you told me to,” she said, tears misting her eyes, and she remembered what it felt like to have Sawyer look her in the eye and ask her to go away for a while. It had hurt—it had felt a whole lot like betrayal. But she’d understood, too. “You asked me to give you space, and I did.”

  Sawyer nodded. “The thing is, I don’t think I would have asked you to back off unless my feelings for you were a threat to my marriage.”

  There it was—his worry. He was wondering if he was the kind of guy to be emotionally unfaithful to his wife. Well, she could set him straight there.

  “Feelings—what do they matter?” Olivia demanded. “They come and they go. A vow—that matters! You chose the right woman, and every choice after that was in defense of your marriage. Those choices matter. You weren’t untrue to her. The fact that you guarded your marriage means it was worth guarding, not that I was any threat. I promise you that.”

  “You sure?” he asked quietly.

  “Positive. I’m not that kind of woman, either. Trust me.” She’d been Mia’s best friend, after all. And just because she’d backed away from Sawyer didn’t mean that her friendship with Mia had been over. “Mia had your heart, and was confident in that. You were not in love with me. Maybe I was a little too close, but it wasn’t more than that. She would have cut me off if it were. Trust me. She guarded those boundaries, too.”

  Sawyer was quiet. “Good.”

  “You were faithful, Sawyer. In every way. You were in love with Mia. You’ll remember that soon enough. I know it.”

  “So why don’t I remember her?” he asked. “If she was the woman I was in love with—”

  “Maybe because it was easy with her,” Olivia replied. “She didn’t fight with you like I did. Maybe you remember more of me because I made you so mad.”

  “I thought we got along,” he said.

  “We did...but I could still drive you nuts.” She shot him a grin. “Like no other.”

  Most of all, she’d driven him crazy because she couldn’t be what he’d wanted. Not even if she’d tried to be. Olivia believed in God working all things together for good. She’d come to Beaut to help her own family on this trip, but maybe God had sent her to help Sawyer, too. In some mysterious way. She’d never been the wife for Sawyer, but maybe she could help him to remember the good guy he’d been. He deserved that.

  * * *

  That night, after the twins were asleep and the disconcertingly pretty Olivia had gone to bed, Sawyer sat in the kitchen, his elbows resting on the table. He couldn’t sleep. It was possible that he’d had coffee too late in the day. Was that a problem for him normally? He had no idea.

  The only sound was the hum of the refrigerator and the soft tick of a clock behind him on the wall.

  I’m scared. I don’t know who I am.

  Sawyer sent the thought out there into the unknown, and he felt a little better, somehow, for having done it.

  He wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but it felt familiar, putting his feelings into words...into a plea. Having his head empty of memories was a strange burden. He was flapping in the wind with nothing to nail him down. He remembered a few odd things—like that marker, or how to make coffee, or how to deal with an angry horse. He wasn’t completely helpless, exactly, but he had no people in his head, no connections beyond what he’d formed over the last couple of days. He desperately wished he could remember Mia, because while losing his wife must have been a horrible blow, the loneliness of forgetting her was deafening.

  Sawyer heard boots on the step. The side door opened and Lloyd came in. The older man was dusty, and one pant leg was coated in half-dried mud. He pulled off his trucker hat and tossed it onto a peg. Without the hat, Lloyd looked softer, somehow. And a little goofier. That beaten-up hat seemed to give the man credibility.

  “Fourteen new calves,” Lloyd announced.

  “Yeah?” Sawyer cast about in his brain, looking for an appropriate reply. This used to be his work. This used to be second nature to him.

  “Do you remember what that means?” Lloyd asked. “It’s the spring calve.”

  Sawyer shrugged. “Sorry. Wish I was more help. I assume that’s a good thing—the calves.”

  Maybe if Sawyer was tossed into a calving emergency, something would come back.

&
nbsp; “Yeah, it’s a good thing.” Lloyd cast him an indulgent smile. “There’ll be more tonight, too. And tomorrow. So far so good. No complications. The ranch hands are working hard...not that I’m trying to make you feel bad.”

  “I could come out with you,” Sawyer offered.

  “Nah. Not yet. I can’t be keeping you out of trouble while doing my own work. Don’t worry about it. You just rest up and get better. How’s the head feeling?”

  Sawyer reached up and touched the bandage. “It’s still bruised. It doesn’t ache like before, though.”

  “That’s something,” Lloyd said. “You shoulda seen you drop. I thought you’d cracked a bone in that thick skull of yours.”

  Sawyer chuckled. “I remembered something today. Sort of.”

  “Yeah?” Lloyd stopped, fixing him with a hopeful look.

  “Olivia and I went out with the girls. Lizzie got into the corral, and I knew what to do. This big, angry stallion was rearing, and I was able to get her out of there. I just...knew what to do.”

  “That’s excellent.” His uncle grinned. “Do you remember the chores? What to do in the barn?”

  “I—” Sawyer tried to think, push through the dark fog. “Maybe I would if I was faced with them. I don’t know... I mean—”

  “It’s okay. It hasn’t been that long since the accident.” Lloyd shook his head.

  “I figured out which kid was which,” Sawyer added.

  “You remembered?” Lloyd asked. “The doctor said that when it starts to come back, it might happen fast—”

  “Not exactly,” Sawyer admitted. “We...got them to say their names. And then I wrote their initials in permanent marker on their hands.”

  “Olivia didn’t stop you?” Lloyd asked with a low laugh.

  “Nope.”

  “Well... I guess we’ll be clear on who’s who, then.” Lloyd shook his head. “That’s like you, though. Pragmatic. It’ll wash off eventually.”

  “Yeah, but for now, I need it. Their father should at least know them apart, right?”