Cowboy on Call

by Leigh Riker

  “I’ll try anyway,” he told Sam.

  * * *

  OLIVIA WAS STILL fuming as she parked her car in front of the antiques shop where she had a meeting with the owner, who wanted to sell. Without warning and after Olivia had called to remind her, Susie had cancelled, which was becoming a habit for Nick’s babysitter. More than once this summer, Olivia had been forced to work from home, which had meant closing her store and losing business for the day, to stay with Nick. Her primary concern, of course, was her son, but she’d had to bring him with her today, and Susie’s frequent no-shows were a problem.

  Now, because Olivia hadn’t let Nick stay at the ranch, he was sulking. Still mad, too, she supposed, about their possible move.

  Even so, he was unusually quiet. She shut off the car’s engine, glanced at Nick in the rear seat, then opened her door. Maybe it was better that he’d come with her so she could watch him. From what she’d seen last night and earlier today, she wouldn’t want Sawyer to look after him. What kind of doctor was he?

  “Nick, Mr. Anderson is waiting for us.”

  Theodore Anderson met them at the door. His stooped posture, the frail look of him, alarmed Olivia. The last time she’d seen him, he’d appeared much stronger. His watery eyes and the fringe of white hair around his scalp added to the impression. Olivia hoped her dismay didn’t show on her face.

  “Ted, how nice to see you.” She reached out for a hug. “This is my son, Nick.”

  He shook Nick’s hand. “How do you do, young man?”

  Nick mumbled a response. Ted had the old-fashioned manners of a nineteenth-century gentleman, which suited his profession, but Olivia caught a faint flicker of unease in his gaze, to which she could relate. Like hers, his shop was filled to the rafters with furniture and delicate collectibles. Every tabletop held glass paperweights, exquisite crystal, ceramic figurines. Olivia spied a graceful Lladró statue of an elegant lady in gray with sweeping, sculpted skirts, one of the first designs the esteemed Spanish manufacturer had issued. Her mouth watered.

  “What gorgeous things you have.”

  Ted’s expression fell. “Apparently, I need to get rid of them. My son and his wife want me to move to Florida.”

  What did he want? Olivia felt sorry for him. He was obviously under some pressure, but Ted’s wife had died several years ago, and she could see he’d declined since then. He probably felt he was losing his independence now.

  “Do they live there?”

  “No. My son has a small ranch not far from here. He’s convinced my arthritis will improve once I get away from our Kansas winters. They’ve found me a lovely condominium down South.” He didn’t sound enthusiastic.

  Giving up his shop would be hard for Ted. He knew each item and where to find it in this magnificent clutter of a place. She didn’t doubt he loved every single piece.

  “I take it you’re not wild about a move, but warmer weather might be nice,” she said. “I don’t care for snow myself.”

  He smiled a little. “Then maybe you should buy that condo. I’ll stay to run my shop—and yours.”

  “That wouldn’t work for me,” she said, “but I’m interested in buying you out here if you do want to sell.”

  His thin shoulders slumped even more. “Let me show you around.”

  Nick trailed behind, his fingers busy on the tablet she’d bought for his birthday, his gaze intent on the screen. He’d recently discovered Minecraft. Although the game was educational and creative, if she didn’t set limits for him, Nick would play all day and night.

  Ted gave her a tour of the shop, pointing out an especially valuable English silver tea set here, an exquisite Victorian fainting couch upholstered in lush plum velvet there, while Olivia held her breath. She’d always loved his store. Ted had exquisite taste. He had carefully acquired an amazing and expensive collection, a good percentage of which Nick, lost in his game, could easily blunder into.

  As they returned to the front of the store, Nick raised a hand to rub his forehead with a frown. He bumped against a round mahogany drum table from the eighteenth century, rattling its display of fine Lalique perfume bottles. Olivia barely righted one in time to prevent it from breaking.

  Her heart slid back down into her chest. “Sorry,” she said just as Nick crashed into a small nearby liquor cabinet, a priceless-looking Tiffany vase on its top shelf. To her horror, the vase wobbled, then fell, shattering into pieces on the floor. Shards of glass, splintered with light into a full spectrum of colors, scattered everywhere.

  Olivia cried out, then dropped to her knees to begin picking up the mess. “I’m so sorry, Ted. Of course I’ll pay for the damage.” Or try to. She felt too shaken at the moment to ask what this particular vase had been worth.

  “No need to apologize. We’ll work it out.” But he looked upset himself. He was simply too polite to lose his temper, and he hastened to reassure Nick, who seemed dazed as he mumbled an apology.

  Ted led them past the front counter, where an ancient computer sat gathering dust. Beside it was a vintage cash register that he’d once claimed still actually worked. He said, “Just tell me you have an offer I can live with. About the shop.”

  Keeping one eye on Nick, Olivia named a figure.

  Ted wrinkled his nose. “I had something a bit higher in mind.”

  Olivia tensed. “You know I’ll take special care of all your treasures.” Remembering the broken vase, she winced. “I won’t let a single one go for less than a good price. I’ll love them as you do.”

  “Well...” He didn’t go on.

  “Think about this,” Olivia said, not wanting to press him any further. “Call me if you want to counter my offer. And let me know about the vase.”

  Ted ignored that part. “Those kids want me to move soon. Not much time to inventory everything and then...leave,” he added. “I’ll be giving up my livelihood. My passion, as it were.”

  Olivia laid a hand on his arm. “We’ll talk.” Her gaze strayed to Nick, who was now sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor, still furiously thumbing the tablet as if nothing had happened. “I’m sure we can come to some agreement.” She hesitated, then tried to sweeten the pot. “Once we do, I promise to keep you in the loop, ask your advice on things. Goodness, I can’t possibly know as much as you do. That way you can keep your hand in and the shop can still feel like yours. Which it always will be.” Another pause. “I want you to be happy, Ted.”

  His expression told her he didn’t think that was likely, but Olivia left him to ponder her offer, hoping he’d come around. She badly wanted his business. When a deal was done, she could think about a move away from Barren, away from her memories, some of which Sawyer had stirred up with his unexpected return. She told herself he’d probably be gone before she packed a single box.

  In the car, Olivia sagged in her seat. “Oh, Nick.” How would she pay for the vase? She had a rough idea of its value, a figure that made her want to groan. She hadn’t wanted to make a scene in Ted’s shop, but Nick hadn’t been paying attention. And now his carelessness might have cost her a deal with Ted. Nick needed to learn there were consequences to his actions. “Sweetie, the vase you broke was very expensive.” Not that Nick had a true understanding of the money involved. “I hate to do this, but I think it will be a valuable lesson. You’ll have to help earn the money to pay back Mr. Anderson.”

  “How?” he moaned. “Mom, I don’t feel good. I still got a headache.”

  Her breath caught. “I didn’t mean today. We can work something out later.”

  Nick’s frown deepened as they headed out to Wilson Cattle, where Olivia planned to pitch in wherever she could with the return of Grey’s cattle. At Ted’s shop, she’d thought Nick was simply bored and cranky. Then she’d assumed he felt terrible about the broken vase, though he’d said nothing after his brief apology. Now she won
dered. Was he just tired? Doubling down on the sulking because he’d have to do added chores to pay off part of the debt? Or was it something else?

  She drove faster, trying to run through the numbers to adjust her offer to Ted but worrying more about Nick as she neared Barren.

  “It really hurts,” he said with a groan.

  Her pulse suddenly pounding, Olivia checked her rearview mirror. Nick’s face was ashen, worse than it had been last night. She wanted to pull over, but traffic on the interstate made that a dicey proposition. She’d risk getting hit while parked on the shoulder.

  She gripped the steering wheel. “Hang on, baby. We’ll be there soon.”

  She tried to tell herself he just needed something for the pain, that this was normal after what he’d been through last night. It wasn’t an emergency, was it?

  She glanced again in the mirror.

  Nick had slumped to one side. Dozing, as he’d often done in the back seat since he was a baby? Or had he passed out again?

  Panic hit her as if a rock had been thrown through the windshield. “Nick!”

  His eyes opened, then closed again. “I’m sleepy.”

  A quick look at her GPS told Olivia they were nowhere near the hospital.

  She grabbed her cell phone from the seat beside her and called Doc but only got a recorded message. Gone fishing. If you have an emergency, contact Dr. So-and-So... Olivia barely listened and missed the name. But no one answered at the clinic on Main Street, either.

  She didn’t have a choice. The ranch wasn’t far now.

  She hit Speed Dial for the Circle H and asked for Sawyer.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SAWYER DIDN’T TAKE the black ranch pickup. An hour or so after Willy and Tobias had ridden out, he saddled up Sundance, then started over the hill to Wilson Cattle. Although he hadn’t ridden in years—unless he counted the few house calls he’d made in Kedar, climbing the side of a mountain on a tough Asian pony—he relished the feel of Sundance’s much bigger, warm horseflesh between his legs.

  The steady, rhythmic clop of iron-shod hooves on the hard dirt path of summer, the feel of leather reins guiding the horse around stony obstacles or out from under the occasional tree branch, made him happy for the first time since the landslide.

  All by himself, Sawyer grinned. Once, he’d loved this place and never wanted to leave. Funny, the different trails life takes you on, he thought as he crested the low hill. For the first time since he’d walked into his brother’s wedding reception last night, he wasn’t thinking about Kedar or even Olivia.

  That is, until he realized he was riding the same path he had with her years ago. Below, the neighboring ranch was a bustle of activity. Trucks parked everywhere. People milling about. Laughter and talk rising into the heated air. He spotted Everett Wilson with his new wife, Liza. They must have decided to stay longer instead of flying right back to Dallas after yesterday’s wedding.

  A rig towing a stock trailer had just rolled in, stirring up dust and filled with bellowing cattle. Sawyer wondered if they were irritated at being herded into a metal pen on wheels with the others or if they were calling out in recognition that they were home again.

  Wearing a black Stetson clamped over his light brown hair, Grey met him at the bottom of the hill. “You here to join the fun? We could use more help.” As he said the words, two other monster pickups with slat-sided trailers barreled along the driveway to the barn.

  “Whatever you need me to do,” Sawyer said. He saw Willy and Tobias heading for the first truck and nodded in their direction. Willy tipped his straw cowboy hat as if to acknowledge the worn jeans and Western-style shirt Sawyer had filched from Logan’s closet. “Looks like you nearly lost a big bunch of cattle, Grey. How many?”

  “A good percentage of my herd,” Grey agreed. “I’m more than glad to have them back.” He couldn’t seem to stop grinning, his blue-green eyes alight but not only for the cattle, Sawyer noted. The dark-haired woman he had seen with Grey the night before was coming across the ranch yard with the little girl who’d alerted everyone to Nick’s fall. As she came closer, Sawyer finally recognized the child’s mother—Grey’s long-ago girlfriend.

  Grey scooped her close to his side, then ruffled the girl’s hair. “You remember Shadow?” he asked. “And this is Ava. Our daughter.”

  Sawyer glanced at the diamond ring on Shadow Moran’s hand. He didn’t see a wedding band, so... “Congratulations. I knew you before I left the Circle H. You were behind me, though, in school. What, three, four years?”

  “Five.” Her dark eyes warmed. “At first, when I crossed the yard, I thought you were Logan—then I remembered he and Blossom are on their honeymoon.”

  Ava gazed up at him. She looked like her mother except for her eyes, the color of Grey’s. “You and Logan are just the same.”

  “Yes, we are,” he said, then pointed at the small scar by his right eye. “You can always tell me from him because of this.”

  “How did you get it?”

  “Doing something I shouldn’t have been doing.” He touched her shoulder, then turned back to Grey. He wondered why Grey was just now getting around to marrying Shadow, though it was none of his business. “Point me in the right direction. I did work the Circle H before Sam decided to run bison instead of cows, and I don’t think I’ve forgotten how to handle them.” He hoped not. “Nice-looking Black Angus you have, by the way.”

  “Thanks, Sawyer.”

  He had started toward one of the trucks to help unload when he stopped again. “Who stole these cattle, anyway?”

  Shadow shifted in Grey’s embrace. Her mouth turned down. “My own brother—and two other men.”

  “One of them a ranch hand of mine.” Grey kissed the top of her head. “The sheriff’s not happy with them, and they may still be in trouble with the law, but I refused to press charges. Shadow’s baby brother got off on the wrong foot in life. We’ll try to change that if we can.”

  Sawyer was still digesting that when a car coming up the drive cut around several pickups and stock trailers, then braked to a stop right near him, spraying dirt everywhere. The cloud of dust choked Sawyer and he was coughing when Olivia got out. Eyes wide, she left her door flung open and charged up to him.

  “Nick!” she managed to say, then pointed at the car.

  In the dim light inside, Sawyer could see the boy leaned over in his seat, eyes closed, his body limp. Sawyer’s pulse jumped.

  “I called the Circle H,” she said from behind him. “No answer at Doc’s or the walk-in clinic, either. Then I remembered everyone was here today and we were only minutes from Wilson Cattle, too. I hoped Doc had stopped by on his way to go fishing—”

  “Why didn’t you head for Farrier General?” The ER there had Nick’s chart from the night before.

  “It’s no closer today than it was last night.” She mentioned her visit to the antiques shop. “Frankly, I didn’t expect to find you here.”

  “Yes, you did,” Sawyer murmured. He doubted she’d come in search of Doc, but he couldn’t blame her for saying that.

  Olivia told him about Nick’s headache, which had obviously gotten worse since that morning when Sawyer had worried about it. He could see for himself how drowsy Nick was, if not in danger of slipping into a coma. He didn’t want to scare her, but this wasn’t good.

  Last night, he’d hesitated to even approach Nick. He couldn’t stall now. “Olivia, stay with Shadow.” He glanced at his friend. “Grey, keep everyone away.”

  The last thing he needed was a crowd. Sawyer hunkered down in the open doorway and reached into the car, checked Nick’s pulse, made sure his airway was clear, his heartbeat strong. This was the sort of basic triage care he’d practiced with the victims of the landslide, and as he performed the quick movements again, he didn’t need to think. To doubt himself.
He only had to act—and do the right thing.

  Finally, he turned to Olivia. “Get in,” he said.

  She’d been standing with Grey, her brother’s arm around her, but hurried back to the car. “Is he—”

  “Olivia, let’s go. I’ll drive.”

  * * *

  OLIVIA FELT COLD all over. If she didn’t keep a tight grip on herself, she would begin to shake and wouldn’t be able to stop. She clenched her jaw to not let her teeth chatter. She’d been sitting in the Farrier General waiting room again for what seemed like hours.

  Shadow sat beside her. Grey had offered to come with them—insisted upon it—but Shadow had told him to stay behind for now. He had his returned cattle to oversee, and their daughter, Ava. They would keep him posted, and he could come to the hospital later. Olivia had hoped that wouldn’t be necessary, that Nick would be released as quickly as he was last night, but the staff members’ words so far didn’t reassure her.

  She tried to think of something—anything—else to stay sane. Like her plans to trade in her car soon. She needed something bigger, maybe an SUV, to deliver purchases to her customers. But she couldn’t concentrate on that. Feeling anxious, she kept looking around but didn’t see Sawyer anywhere.

  Shadow patted her arm, her voice low and soft. Her liquid dark eyes held Olivia’s gaze. “I’m sure one of the doctors will be out soon. They need to focus on Nick right now. Get him stabilized.”

  Olivia nodded but only felt worse. “I’m a bad mother,” she said. “I should never have left the Circle H this morning.” She could feel hysteria rising inside her. The longer she sat here, even with Shadow for company, the more worried she got.

  “You’re a wonderful mother,” Shadow insisted, tucking a strand of her long, dark hair behind one ear. “Far better than I was to Ava at times. He’s going to be all right, Olivia.” She peered down the hall, as if also searching for Sawyer. “Nick’s a tough little boy. He’s a fighter.”