by Jenna Jacob
“She is.” Jade nodded emphatically.
Lucy’s distrust melted and her expression softened. Soon, Barbara and Lucy were regaling her and Jade with stories of their own heartbreaking experiences with men.
“I like you, Brea…” Barbara paused. “No offense, but I’d like to speak to Colton before I make my decision.”
Jade whipped out her cell phone, punched in his number, and handed it to her. Barbara thanked her as she walked toward the produce section.
“If you all don’t mind…while she’s making that call, I’m going to hit the ladies’ room. My bladder is fixin’ to bust!”
Without waiting for a reply, Lucy turned and rushed toward the back of the store.
“I really hope this works out. I feel horrible invading your and Colton’s privacy.”
“Don’t be silly.” Jade waved dismissively. “You haven’t invaded a thing.”
“Still, I don’t want to put a damper on your sex life.”
“You won’t.”
“Maybe not, but if I hear you two going at it like a couple of howler monkeys, I’ll burn out a million BOBs.”
“We can’t have that now, can we?” Jade giggled.
“No. I need to go easy on BOB. He’s the only thing that’ll be near my flower patch for a long time.” Brea sobered. “I’ve never lived alone before. It’s time I give it a try and figure out what I want to do with my life.”
“I was in your shoes a few short weeks ago. But there’s one thing I’ve learned. Life changes when and where you least expect it. You should stay here in Haven. I know it’s a weird town, but it’s…relaxed and homey. Find a job and settle down here. You’ll be close to Colton and me. It’s not a bad thing to have friends around in case you need them. And we’ll always be here if you do.”
“I know, and I love you both for it. Thank you.”
Barbara came rushing back excitedly, wearing a huge grin as she handed Jade back her phone.
“Brea, you’re hired,” Barbara announced with a laugh. “Oh, my god, Colton couldn’t stop praising you. Thank you so much for doing this for me. You’ve saved my ass. I’ll pay you a thousand dollars for the month…is that fair?”
“A thousand dollars?” Brea gasped. “Yes. More than fair. Oh, my god. Thank you.”
“Oh, no, thank you. You just saved my life.”
“I don’t mean to be nosy, but where are you going for a whole month?”
“Some women from the church choir and I belong to a women’s cycling group.” Barbara smirked. “We call ourselves the Minstrel Cycles.”
“Oh, my god,” Brea chortled. “That’s priceless.”
“I know,” Barbara giggled. “In the morning, we’re flying to Italy to compete in the Giro d’Italia Femminile. It’s the women’s equivalent to the Tour de France. The men won’t let us ride their tour. I think they’re afraid we’ll beat them, and they’ll have to turn in their man cards.”
“Colton mentioned the race to me. It sounds so exciting,” Jade cooed.
“What? What did I miss?” Lucy asked as she hustled behind the cash register.
“I was just telling the girls about my trip. Brea is going to take care of Ozzie and the house.”
“Wonderful!” Lucy cheered.
“Here, let me give you my address.” Barbara quickly scribbled the info on a small grocery sack and handed it to Brea. “Come by this afternoon. I’ll introduce you to Ozzie and show you around the house.”
The three women watched as Barbara sailed out of the store. Once out of sight, Lucy pinned Brea with a fierce stare.
“Barbara is a good friend. She’s been through a lot and is finally getting her life back on track. You mess with her, and I’ll hunt you down. You got it?”
Taken aback by the woman’s threat, Brea couldn’t help but admire her fierceness.
“Trust me. I have no hidden agenda, and I would never do anything to hurt her. I’m simply helping a fellow woman in need. That’s all. I promise.”
“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.” Lucy glanced behind her and cringed when an old man entered the store. “Good afternoon, Emmett.”
“No it’s not. It’s not a good nuthin’,” the aged man snapped curtly. “That damn Bigfoot is back. He was prowling outside my house last night. By the time I’d loaded up my shotgun, that big, ugly sucker ran away.”
Brea sucked in a gasp of fear. Lucy rolled her eyes and gave a barely perceptible shake of her head. “That’s nice, Emmett. Just make sure you don’t mistake Maynard Pierce for Sasquatch and blow his head off.”
“I know what my neighbor looks like, you darn fool woman,” Emmett huffed. “You’ll see. One day I’m gonna be on the evening news.”
As the man stormed away, Lucy shook her head. “That’s a given, probably the top story after he blows his gall-darned neighbor’s brains out, crazy ol’ coot.”
Brea darted a worried glance between Jade and Lucy. “There really isn’t a Bigfoot around here, is there?”
“Only Emmett. That man has the biggest feet I’ve ever seen.” Lucy grinned with a wink.
Sawyer
* * *
Sawyer’s pulse finally slowed to a normal rhythm as he turned down the gravel road toward his parents’ ranch. Unfortunately, his eager cock was slow to give up its fight. The second he saw Brea standing on the corner, she stole his fucking breath and sent his cock straining like a goddamn divining rod. She’d looked like an angel with the sunlight streaming over her and casting the sexy vixen in an ethereal glow. He’d wanted to snatch her off the street, toss her in his truck, and take her home for a day of hot, sweaty fun.
He’d thought things were going well until she’d freaked out and shut him down.
“Cockblocked by a man ban. That’s a first,” Sawyer groused. “What the fuck is that all about anyway?”
He could have handled her rejection if—like Jade had him briefly believing—she batted for the other team. But finding out that Brea had kicked all men to the curb was flat-out depressing. Some prick-assed fuck-nut must have hurt her something fierce. He wanted to find out who then hunt the weasel down and rearrange his face. While the notion would satisfy Sawyer immensely, it wouldn’t heal Brea’s wounds no matter how badly battered they might be.
Questions about her past…no, worries of what she’d endured rolled through his brain. The need to know everything about her rode him harder than a sumo wrestler on a Shetland pony. But he’d never discover a damn thing as long as Brea shut him out. With a curse, Sawyer slammed his palm against the steering wheel.
Frustration ate at him until his boyhood home—a two-story red-brick and white-shuttered behemoth—came into view and filled him with a much-needed sense of peace.
Parking beside the big, red barn, he watched Norris, his youngest brother—who, at twenty-one, was stronger than most men twice his age—lead a horse in from the pasture. His oldest brother, Ned—who lived a half mile up the road with his wife, April—and older of the twins, Noble, saddled up horses for the camp guests.
“About time you dragged your ass out of bed,” Noble playfully taunted.
“Kiss my ass! You haven’t been out here working longer than ten seconds,” Sawyer scoffed. “Mom and Dad still up at the house?”
“Of course. Dad’s in the bathroom, taking his morning constitutional, and Mom’s cleaning up the kitchen. She’s fixed enough food to feed an army.”
“We eat like an army.”
“That’s no lie.” Noble grinned.
As Sawyer headed toward the back patio door, the last of his brothers, other twin, Nate, and second to youngest, Nash, stepped onto the massive wooden deck. Both were wearing grim expressions.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Angrily jerking his head up, Nash sent him a wicked glare. “Everything! If you’d kept your nose out of my business and given me time to let Megan cool down, none of this shit would be happening.”
The venomous tone and fury rolling off Nash caught
Sawyer by surprise. “Whoa. What the hell happened with Megan?”
“There is no more Megan,” Nash spat. Inching into Sawyer’s personal space, he raised a finger and poked him in the chest. “I shouldn’t have listened to your piss-poor advice.”
“I sent you over to apologize.”
“Oh, I tried. She tore into me like a panther with a toothache. Verbally kicked my nuts down my throat, then gave me an ultimatum.”
Sawyer cringed. He and his brothers shared the same genetic flaw—an overactive bullhead chromosome. None of them handled ultimatums well. Once backed into a corner, they either came out swinging, which would never happen with a lady, or turned into obstinate pricks. Exactly like Nash was now.
“Which was?” Sawyer arched his brows.
“She told me I had to shit or get off the pot. I either set a date and marry her or she’d find someone who would. Then she pulled off her engagement ring, threw it at me, and slammed the door in my face. Happy now?” Nash barked.
Guilt, slick and hot, sluiced through Sawyer’s veins. “No. I’m not! If I’d known things were going to end up like this I never would have told you to—”
“Forget it. What’s done is done.” Nash turned and stormed away.
Sawyer felt two inches tall. “Son of a bitch!”
“It’s not your fault and you know it,” Nate assured. “Instead of picking a goddamn date, Nate got his hackles up. Dumb shit needs to learn how to kiss ass a whole lot better.”
“If he wants to stay married longer than five minutes he does.”
Nate chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it. Mom tried to convince him that a little space between them might be good. God knows they’ve been breathing each other’s air since third grade. She assured him that every couple has spats now and then.”
“I suppose he didn’t listen to Mom either, right?”
“You know the answer. He’s like the rest of us…too damn stubborn for his own good.”
Sawyer scrubbed a hand over his bristly chin. “Of course he is.”
“Don’t stress about it. He’ll get over it once he’s had time to cool off.” Nash slapped him on the back, then walked away.
Inside the house, Sawyer found his mom, Nola, in the kitchen washing dishes. He came up behind her and kissed her on the cheek. She smiled and nodded toward a plate covered in foil on the table.
“Good morning, sweetheart. I thought you planned to come in early today.”
“I was but got held up in town.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “Sit down and eat before your food gets cold. Did you talk to Nash?”
Sawyer saw the worry clouding her moss-colored eyes. He popped a piece of bacon in his mouth and nodded. “We didn’t really talk. He chewed my ass and I listened.”
“If my cast-iron skillet hadn’t been full of eggs, I’d have smacked him in the head with it.” Nola sighed heavily. “What on earth was that boy of mine thinking? Megan is his soul mate. Everyone on the planet knows it…sees it. Why can’t he?”
Washing down his food with a gulp of coffee, Sawyer shook his head. “Because you and Dad blessed us, or rather cursed us, with skulls harder than your skillet. It’s a wonder we’re all not brain-dead from butting heads for so many years.”
“Well, you finally stopped beating yours black and blue and wised up. Hopefully Nash will, too. The sooner the better.”
“I didn’t wise up, Mom. I gave up. Big difference,” he drawled.
Nola wiped her hands and joined him at the table. “Oh, honey. Sara left you no choice. You did the only thing you could do…divorced Her Majesty.”
Sawyer grunted in reply. It might have been his only option, but he’d never been able to shake the guilt for failing. Failing to keep his vow to God, his wife, his family, and himself.
“Don’t worry, Mom. Nash will figure it out. If he and Megan are meant to be, they’ll work it out.”
“I know, but I still want to knock some sense into him.” She issued a heavy sigh. “I’ll get you the guest register.”
“Thanks.”
Nola retrieved a thick binder and set it on the table beside Sawyer before returning to her dishes. He sucked in a deep breath and steeled himself before opening to the first page. He silently read the bios and studied the photos of the terminally ill children en route to the family ranch.
Their spread of land was known as Camp Melody, a respite from hospitals and clinics for terminally ill children. The ranch was a vision realized by his father, Norman. It was an escape so the children could forget about their illnesses for a while and spend a week experiencing new adventures in the great outdoors.
His dad’s youngest sister, Melody—the only aunt Sawyer never had the chance to meet—had been born with a rare blood and bone disorder. From an early age, Melody had been confined to a wheelchair. His father had spent every minute of free time making sure Melody didn’t waste away in her room, reading books, glued to the television, or watching the rest of the family work and play outside.
Norman would secure his sister to the saddle of his horse, then together, they’d ride out to the river, enjoy picnics in the shade, or fish in the sunshine. He taught her to shoot guns and even built a slide-board that fit between the garden rows so she could weed and harvest vegetables with the rest of the family.
When she passed away from a lung infection at seventeen, his father had taken it hard. He vowed to keep Melody’s memory alive. And he did. He also instilled that same moral conviction in all six of his sons. They grew up providing memories and experiences for sick children from all over the country.
Sawyer continued studying the pages as sadness gripped his heart. This was always the hardest part for him…reading about the unjust, shortened life expectancy of each innocent child.
Raising his head as his father entered the room, Sawyer sent him a grim nod. Meeting his gaze, Norman gripped his son’s shoulder firmly, acknowledging the torment in Sawyer’s soul.
“You’re my son with the softest heart. You always have been, probably always will be.” Norman smiled sympathetically.
“You calling me a wimp?”
Norman chuckled. “No. Never. You’re kind, compassionate, and caring. A father couldn’t ask for more honorable qualities in a child. Don’t let yourself get strangled by the unfairness of it all. Find peace in knowing we’re giving these kids something special to take back as they wage war on the diseases ravaging their tiny bodies.”
“I do, Dad. I just wish they could all live long, happy lives.”
“Hopefully, some of them will.”
His father’s gentle words smoothed some of the jagged edges of Sawyer’s soul. But the children’s struggles weren’t the only issues weighing heavily on his mind. Brea’s rejection and Nash’s angry words had left a void inside him. As his appetite waned, he closed the notebook, pushed away from the table, and took his dishes to the sink.
Tucking the binder under his arm, Norman slapped Sawyer on the back. “Let’s do this. Momma, are you ready?”
Nola smiled and nodded as she dried her hands. When the three stepped out on the deck, she reached up and rang the weathered copper bell hanging from the rustic fascia. The alert usually meant it was mealtime, but this call was for his brothers and the employees of Camp Melody to gather on the deck for the weekly staff meeting.
Sawyer watched as the doors to both the girls’ and boys’ barracks opened wide. Like ants, jeans-clad, Stetson-wearing paraprofessionals, nurses, and a multitude of counselors and volunteers hurried across the yard before gathering in a half circle on the deck. Their faces glowed with excitement. Sawyer’s spirits lifted, well, until he glanced Nash’s way. His brother was still wearing an angry scowl.
While his mother handed out the week’s activity agendas, his father addressed the specific needs of their scheduled guests. Sawyer darted another glance Nash’s way. His brother’s brooding, anger, and sadness had Sawyer releasing a guilt-ridden sigh. When the meeting was over, he hung back an
d gripped Nash’s shoulder before the man could walk away.
“I’m sorry I butted in last night. I honestly wasn’t trying to stir up trouble between—”
“No. I’m the one who should apologize,” Nash interrupted. “I’m the dumb fuck who dug my feet in and refused to budge. I’m not pissed at you or the world, just myself.”
The remorse in Nash’s voice sliced Sawyer like razor blades. Their family bond was strong. When one of them was hurting, their pain rippled out, like a drop of water on a pond, touching them all. Nash’s heartbreak was no exception.
“I’m here if you need me. We all are.” Sawyer clapped him on the back.
“Thanks.”
The sound of crunching gravel and the hum of diesel engines came from the driveway, announcing their guests’ arrival. The staff lined up on the poured concrete walkway that connected the barracks, mess hall, showers, and shelter houses, waving and cheering excitedly. They welcomed each new group of campers with the same enthusiasm. Sawyer, and even Nash, couldn’t help but grin and holler from the deck.
“Come on, let’s give these angels something wonderful to remember,” Sawyer urged.
As he made his way to the first bus, images of another angel filled his head. But he shoved thoughts of Brea aside and scanned the little faces for a blond, blue-eyed pixie. Sawyer had a special surprise planned for the little girl. He smiled as they lifted six-year-old Tina Ellis off the bus. The timid expression on her face gave way to a look of awe, and a dreamlike sparkle danced in her blue eyes when she spied the horses. Sawyer moved in close as a counselor handed the girl her metal-cuffed crutches, and with lumbering steps, Tina headed straight toward the fence of the pasture.
“Horses,” she whispered on a breathless sigh.
Goose bumps peppered Sawyer’s arms, and tears stung the backs of his eyes, while his heart nearly burst with joy. Though he’d never met Aunt Melody, he knew by the tone of Tina’s voice that his father’s sister was looking down on this family with nothing but pride.
After making his way over to Tina, Sawyer dropped to one knee and smiled. “You’re Tina, and you love horses, right?”