Cowboy on Call

by Leigh Riker

  Maybe she should have stayed home tonight. Read books with Nick, watched Toy Story—all three of them—for the thousandth time, made popcorn. Instead, she’d watched in horror as her father choked, seen Sawyer save him, then all but fall apart for reasons of his own. “I’m grateful you didn’t end up in the ER this evening, but—”

  “Olivia, you’re not a child now. When you were a kid, I was running Wilson Cattle. As a businesswoman yourself, you should have some idea of what that entails. If not, Grey could tell you. It can be a brutal job. Long hours, sick cows, money issues, hay to bring in before it rains...cowboys who quit on the spot at the worst times...rustlers,” he added, then paused. “I know it was hard on you when your mother and I stopped trying to make a go of it.”

  Her voice quavered. “You and Mom made my life, and Grey’s, miserable.”

  “I accept that. I’m sorry. But he’s running the ranch now, and I’m...not. I have more time and he and I make a pretty good team. Why can’t we, Olivia? I’d really like for us—you and me—to find common ground again. I’d like to be part of your life as well as Nick’s.”

  “And make promises to him that you won’t keep, either? Whenever some better offer for your time comes up first?” She said, “An opera ball in Dallas? A trip with friends to Cancun?” The words caught in her throat. “‘I’m so sorry, Nick, but I won’t be able to get there for your birthday party.’ No,” she said, shaking, “I won’t allow my son to become a pawn for your attention as I was years ago with you and Mom—”

  “Yes, Olivia. Your mother, too. Don’t leave her out. She poisoned you against me. Liza would never do something like that—and though I’ll admit I wasn’t perfect back then, at least I didn’t do that, either. You’ve gone through a divorce just as I did. You know how painful that can be, how that affected Nick. Yet you and Logan have managed to set aside your differences for his sake. Which took you a long time, I might point out.”

  “That’s what Liza said.”

  “Couldn’t you do the same with me? Make peace, for Nick’s sake?”

  “You’re his grandfather, not his dad.”

  And tonight, she’d nearly lost him. As imperfect as their relationship might be—is, she thought—she only had one father. Liza had pointed that out, too. Olivia blinked back a sudden rush of tears. If only she could convince herself he was telling the truth.

  For Nick’s sake.

  * * *

  “I’M HERE!” Nick shouted, tumbling from the car, then running toward the barn and making Sawyer smile. “Let’s ride!” The kid had scarcely waited until Olivia stopped her SUV in the ranch yard.

  After Sawyer and Nick caught Hero in the far pasture, they walked the horse to the corral. This time, Nick saddled the little gray gelding by himself with Sawyer merely looking on, wondering what to say to Olivia.

  He tried not to feel her eyes on him, watching his every step as she trailed after him and her son. Did she think he’d gone completely off the rails a few nights ago? That he might crumble right in front of Nick any second now?

  Olivia’s call to ask if they could come over had surprised him. Not because Nick wanted to ride—he always did—but because she seemed eager to get started with Cyclone. The horse was feeling much more comfortable today, so Sawyer had said yes.

  Inside the ring, Nick gathered his reins, cautioned Hero to stand still, slid his left foot into the stirrup, then swung up into the saddle as if he’d been doing that every day for his entire life. Seven years, Sawyer reminded himself, and for most of them, Logan had told him, Olivia had kept him off horses, fearing for his safety. He was still a new rider, and despite his progress, needed to be carefully watched.

  Nick had the same urge Sawyer had had at his age to do everything on his own, to take the next risk. He’d driven his parents nuts. Logan was more cautious. He guessed Olivia had turned away from Sawyer not just because of Jasmine, but in part because she’d hoped for a more stable relationship.

  “Whoa, there,” he said just before Nick trotted off. Sawyer snapped the lead rope on, as he had last time, to walk with him around the corral. Still silent, Olivia watched from the rail. She hadn’t said a word to him yet.

  Once, twice...on the third circuit, he reached up to unhook the lead as he might have let go of the kid’s first two-wheel bicycle when he’d finally gained his balance.

  Noticing that he’d been freed, Nick yelled, “Look, Mom!” To Sawyer’s alarm, he booted Hero in the sides and the gelding scooted off, ears pricked as if he felt as happy as Nick to be off the lead.

  “Sawyer!” Olivia had a hand over her heart. She’d finally broken her silence.

  He took a step to stop Nick, but the boy was doing fine, and instead of going after him, Sawyer strolled over to the fence.

  He put up a hand, palm out, to calm her. “He’s okay.” The lessons Logan had given him all summer had paid off. “He’s really riding. Look at him, Olivia.”

  Nick’s grin spread from ear to ear. Sawyer envied him. It had been a long time since he’d experienced that same rush of joy. “Would you deny him? You know how good that feels.”

  Or did that only remind her of them, with Jasmine, flying across the field?

  Her mouth set. “How dare you jeopardize his safety?” But her tone sounded weak. Even Olivia could see that her son was okay.

  “He’s perfectly safe. I told you, that gelding takes care of him. Logan picked the right horse. If I didn’t think Nick could handle him, I’d still be walking around this corral with them.”

  For a long moment, she followed Nick with her eyes. Gradually, Sawyer saw her shoulders relax. Then, at last, she began to smile. “He’s pretty good, isn’t he?”

  “And he’ll get better. All he needs now is practice.” To show his confidence in Nick, he opened the corral gate, stepped out and shut it behind him to join Olivia at the rail. If something did happen, he could vault the fence and be there in a second. He slid her a sideways glance. “You may end up with a kid in junior rodeo—a bronc rider or maybe a calf roper.”

  She faintly shuddered. “I hope not. And I hate to admit this, but you were right. So was Logan. I need to loosen the reins myself.”

  “You need to loosen up, period.” To soften the words, he put an arm around her shoulders. Who was he to talk? The other night, he’d made a fool of himself. Grey hadn’t wanted to accept his apology for running off after dinner but Sawyer had made it anyway.

  He and Olivia watched Nick until he started to tire and the little gelding stumbled once, not enough to alarm her or Sawyer. He leaned over to lightly kiss her cheek. “Come on, a job well done. Let’s get these two a treat before you and I work Cyclone.”

  At the house, Sam had come in for lunch. They all ate sandwiches while Sam and Olivia chatted at the table. Sawyer didn’t say much and Sam didn’t talk to him either, keeping his attention on Nick. Afterward, Sam fixed an ice-cream cone for him and challenged Nick to a game of checkers. Sawyer and Olivia went back to the barn to get Cyclone with Sam’s caution ringing in their ears: “Don’t spoil him.”

  Today the horse moved better. All he needed was the lightest, occasional flick of the whip at his flanks to keep him in that fluid gait Olivia liked so much.

  After a while, Sawyer let her take over—and prayed. His heart stayed in his throat, but she had an easy touch with the colt, talking to him in soothing tones, praising him whenever he did something right. Letting Sawyer know he could trust her with the colt—at least under his supervision, in case things went wrong.

  Why be surprised when Cyclone suddenly decided to test her?

  Without warning, he broke from the slow trot. Cyclone pulled at the lunge line, dancing away from the whip, tossing his head, and Sawyer’s heart leaped back into his mouth. “Hey!” he shouted, a thousand bad outcomes running through his head.

  By the
time he’d jumped the fence, though, Olivia had control of the line. She reeled the colt back in, waited until he stood quietly before she patted the sleek column of his neck.

  “Good boy,” she said and Sawyer’s pulse began to settle, too.

  The sun shimmered along Cyclone’s hide, turning it from black to blue. Olivia had been right about his color. He didn’t stop her when she continued her groundwork with the colt, and to his credit, Cyclone didn’t try to act up again.

  When they were done, she turned to Sawyer with a smile. “Did I pass?”

  “With highest honors. You’re good, Olivia. You always were.”

  Without a care for her own safety, as if she’d forgotten how dangerous the horse could be, she walked Cyclone to the gate. The colt blew through his nostrils and danced around, but he did as she commanded. When he was secured in his stall, Sawyer let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. In fact, he’d been holding it, figuratively speaking, since the other night.

  They were no sooner outside the barn when, with no more warning than Cyclone had given, she said, “After dinner that night...I went home and watched a video on YouTube. About the landslide in Kedar.” She stopped walking. “Sawyer, I’ve never seen anything like that. So horrible, so destructive. The side of that mountain came down within seconds. Frankly, it makes worrying about Nick in the corral seem silly in retrospect. Or at least, incredibly minor by comparison. I know you wouldn’t have let him get hurt. You were thinking about Kedar after Everett choked on the meat. Weren’t you?”

  “Yes, and once your dad brought up the landslide, I couldn’t stop.” He put both hands on her shoulders, trying to block out the images she must have seen, the ones he would never forget. “I wish that hadn’t ruined what started out to be a fun evening. If I were you, I’d try to forget that video.”

  “I can’t. Those pictures are etched in my mind. Like they must be in yours—only I imagine what you saw, up close, was far worse than any video.” She looked into his eyes. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt. What happened to your partner?”

  “Charlie and his wife were at the school, away from the clinic. They’d gone right before the slide to give vaccinations to the kids there. We’d had an outbreak of chicken pox, which usually goes around that time of year, and we wanted to cover as many kids as we could, those who hadn’t already gotten the shot. Anyway, he and Piper got trapped at the school. In between there and the clinic was just rubble. At their end, they began digging people out. I didn’t see them for another few days. I keep wondering how they can cope now, shorthanded.”

  “His wife really lives there?”

  “And his family,” Sawyer said. “In fact, Piper is pregnant again.”

  “And still there?” Olivia shivered under his hands. “I can’t imagine living in those conditions—being pregnant, too—and already having small children.”

  “Lots of people do and she’s a trouper.” His mouth tightened. “Some people like adventure, helping others in adversity,” he said, feeling a fresh wave of guilt.

  Olivia reeled back as if he’d slapped her. “Do I sound that shallow? I like helping, Sawyer, as much as the next person. I give to charity, I teach a Sunday school class.” She paused. “That sounds hypocritical, doesn’t it? And it’s not nearly enough. I do ache for those people, for the children who must have been hurt or died, but I wouldn’t think of taking Nick there. Not that you’ve asked me to.”

  Sawyer didn’t answer. He’d never thought of Olivia in Kedar, so why was he disappointed to hear her say that?

  He dropped his hands from her shoulders. “Maybe you’re right, and Piper shouldn’t have moved there either, helped Charlie and me at the clinic. She and their two boys could have stayed in the States, safe and sound.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “But being safe is not everyone’s priority.” He couldn’t resist adding, “Even right here in Kansas, that can be an illusion. The flood I’ve heard about, Nick’s illness, tornadoes every spring...haylofts.”

  For another moment, she stared at him before something else seemed to register in her mind. Was it the same thing registering in his?

  Breaking the stare, Olivia said, “You know now what you’re going to do, don’t you? You’ve made up your mind. Even if you’re trying to hide it from yourself.” She turned away, almost as if she were rejecting Kedar, his clinic, Charlie’s family...and him. “You’re going back.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  OLIVIA SLID INTO a back booth at the diner a few days later, and Annabelle hurried over to fill her mug. “Morning. Breakfast, too?”

  “No, just coffee. I’m meeting some people.”

  “I’ll send them your way. Holler if you change your mind about food.”

  She rushed off to serve other customers, and a moment later Ted Anderson entered the restaurant with a man who was obviously his son. Olivia mentally crossed her fingers. She’d gone back and forth with him all week, since the night at the ranch when her father had almost died right there at the dinner table, and she hoped today would go better.

  Olivia rose to greet them. After her talk with Sawyer about Kedar, she’d stayed away from the ranch, though those raw video images had replayed over and over in her mind. Because Nick hadn’t ridden Hero since then, he was barely speaking to her now.

  She kissed Ted’s cheek, but the already-sour look on his son’s face didn’t reassure her. “Please. Sit down.”

  Ted’s son Craig sat across from her with Ted beside her on the aisle. Annabelle appeared and filled their coffee cups. Olivia folded her hands on the tabletop. “Thank you both for meeting me here today. I have a client coming in later this morning so I had a bit of a schedule crunch and you saved me the trip to your place.” Then she got right to business. “Craig, I know you have concerns about the sale of your dad’s shop.”

  “We want him to get rid of it. As soon as possible.” Craig settled deeper into his seat. “Dad’s unable to keep up with the accounts—he forgets to post things—and you’ve seen how messy his store has gotten. He can’t know where half that stuff even came from, much less what it’s worth.”

  Olivia stiffened. Ted was right here, yet Craig seemed not to take him into account. No wonder his father wasn’t eager to move to Florida and become even more invisible, something Olivia understood.

  “I disagree.” She touched Ted’s forearm in support. “I’ve been to his shop. You’re welcome to visit mine just across the street. You won’t see much difference between them.” She offered a faint smile. “We antiques dealers can never resist a bargain, especially a unique piece of furniture or glassware that we know we can sell for a tidy profit. Right now, I have an incredible Georgian piece taking up an entire wall. To you, things may seem out of hand. Not to us.”

  Ted sent her a smile in return but Craig’s expression didn’t change. “You’re telling me you’re not better organized than he is.”

  “No, I’m saying we both offer our clients a wide range of choices and there’s not enough room to display them. That’s one reason I hope to expand.”

  Craig shook his head. “Then you’ll have two crowded stores.”

  Olivia pushed her coffee mug aside. “Are we really here to discuss my presumed lack of organization in a too-small space? Your father’s? Or to come to some agreement about a sale—which, if I understood correctly, you want? Whatever I choose to do with both shops will be up to me. And, Ted, you’ve completed a full inventory, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  Craig scoffed. “I wonder if he wouldn’t be better off with an auction, though. Clear the whole place out and be done with it. You can find another shop to buy.”

  Ted winced, clearly distressed. “Craig, Olivia is a friend of mine. She used to handle such auctions, and I bet she can tell you the prices I’d fetch might be under market value
. I’m sure we can settle this without coming to blows.” He sipped at his coffee, as if buying time to choose the right words. “The issue is price, not what Olivia plans to do with my inventory, my store—or hers.”

  Olivia had tried to bring down Ted’s asking price, which she still couldn’t afford. She reached into her bag. “I can give you this much right now.” When Ted looked puzzled, she handed him the check. “For the Tiffany vase,” she said. Olivia had borrowed from her retirement account, and included Nick’s chore money.

  “We’re willing to be flexible,” Craig said, “but not to give away the store.”

  Olivia bristled. Was he implying that she’d tried to manipulate Ted into accepting a low bid? She tried to tamp down her temper.

  For another few minutes, they tossed figures back and forth. Ted stayed mostly silent while Olivia sparred with Craig, who seemed to feel his father was incompetent to handle his own affairs. Or was he more interested in the amount of money Olivia didn’t have? And likely couldn’t find? She sat back with a sigh.

  “That’s my best—and final—offer,” she said.

  Craig got to his feet. “Then I guess I’ll be calling an auction house.”

  Ted struggled out of the booth. He knew as well as Olivia did that he wouldn’t get top dollar from an auction and had said as much. He stood toe-to-toe with his son, Ted’s eyes snapping. “Craig, be reasonable. You’ve taken over this meeting, but my shop isn’t yours to make this decision about. I value your input and I know you care about me, but your mother and I didn’t spend our lives building that business only to see you throw it away. Since you have no interest in running the shop yourself, and neither does your wife, I’d like to see it go to Olivia.”

  In spite of his support, this hadn’t gone well at all. Having seen how adamant Craig was, she felt worse for Ted than she had before. No wonder he felt he was being banished to Florida to live out his days alone. Yet how could she save this deal? That no longer seemed possible, but she didn’t want to completely close the door.