by Liz Isaacson
He rinsed his mouth and looked back into his eyes. He’d been trying to pinpoint what about himself looked different besides the hair and beard. There was something in his eyes.
“Happiness,” he whispered to his reflection. He was happier now than he’d ever been in his life, and that could change a man.
After showering, he dressed while Jeri slept, and he stepped over to her and kissed her quickly. “We’re leaving for the carnival at eleven,” he whispered, tracking his lips down the side of her neck as a final good-bye. She smelled sweet, like fresh cotton and those pink lady apples she loved.
She sighed, and he chuckled. “See you later, sweetheart.”
Jeri grabbed onto his collar and pulled him in for another kiss, this one much longer and deeper.
“I have to go,” he said against her mouth, not wanting to go anywhere.
“Go then,” she said, but she claimed his lips again, and he didn’t pull away.
You’re going to be so late, he thought, but then he decided he didn’t care.
By the time Sawyer and Jeri arrived at the carnival, he knew they’d have to wait in line forever to get lunch from one of the stands.
“This is insane,” she said, gazing around. “I had no idea.”
Sawyer did. He’d been to this carnival before, and it seemed every citizen of Pasadena showed up to it. “We can go somewhere else for food.”
Jeri hooked her arm through his. “I don’t think we need to do that.”
Sawyer suppressed his sigh. “All right. What do you want to eat?”
“Sissy and Karla said the chili is the best,” Jeri said.
“Are they here already?”
“Yeah,” Jeri said, adjusting her sunglasses and her cowgirl hat. “They got here earlier.”
Like we should’ve, Sawyer thought, quickly pushing the thought away. It was as much his fault as hers that he hadn’t gotten out the door on time that morning.
“We’re meeting them for the show,” Jeri said, getting in the astronomically long line for chili and cornbread. Sawyer watched as a family of six walked by, the kids with orange and black balloons tied around their wrists, and the baby in the stroller crying. The mother and father didn’t seem to notice the wailing at all. A sense of longing he didn’t understand cascaded through him.
“Right, the show,” he said, turning back to Jeri. “I can’t believe Cache, Lance, and Dave are doing that.”
“Have you heard them?” she asked. “They’re really good.”
Apparently, the other men on the ranch had started a band while Sawyer had been occupied with Jeri and his ranch work. He wasn’t jealous exactly, but he felt a bit left out. He didn’t want to hang out with men when Jeri was available, but he didn’t want to completely feel like he didn’t belong with his friends either.
Everything was so new to him, and he didn’t know how to make sense of all of it. So he waited in line and listened to Jeri talk about the upcoming Thanksgiving dinner at the ranch.
“So do you want to go see your parents?” she asked. “Or stay at the ranch?”
“I’ll talk to my mom,” he said, distracted by another family passing them. “Jeri?” he asked, watching the dark-eyed little girl lick an ice cream cone. “Do you want more kids?”
She flinched toward him, her own dark eyes filled with shock. She searched his face, and he had his answer. It was still hard for him to hear her say, “No.”
“Why not?” He inched forward with the line. “It might be different this time.”
“Why would it be different?”
“Because, once again, I’m not Howie.” He looked evenly back at her. “And you’re not twenty-one-years-old anymore.”
“Exactly,” she said. “I’m too old to have babies, Sawyer.”
He looked away. “There’s adoption.”
“Hey.” She guided his face back to hers, but he felt like a fool and could barely look at her. This conversation was too heavy for a Halloween carnival, for the chili line with so many people around. “Do you want kids?”
“Well, yeah,” he said. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind having kids.”
“I guess I just assumed you knew…I didn’t.”
“Why would I assume that?”
“Because I have a son who ignores me when I call on his birthday?” Jeri’s eyes blazed now, and she was definitely angry.
“Yeah,” Sawyer said, his insides twisting and twisting. “It’s fine.”
Jeri didn’t say anything else, and the silence between them wasn’t as comfortable as it usually was. They got their chili, and Jeri pulled out her phone and dialed someone. “Hey, we’re here. Where are you guys?”
A few minutes later, they found their friends from the ranch, and Jeri slid onto the bench of the picnic table beside Amber, who seemed to have as much hair as Jeri, only in a much lighter shade.
Of the three women they’d joined, only Sissy had dressed up. She wore all black, with a pair of cat ears on her head and a tail hanging off the waist of her shorts. Karla was much too sophisticated to dress up, and she wore the same thing Sawyer had always seen her in. A pair of khaki shorts and a blouse, with huge earrings and a smile on her face.
She felt a bit plastic to him, but he didn’t interact with her much and had tried not to judge. Amber could probably pass for a princess, what with the long, purple dress she wore and the flower crown she had in her hair.
In fact, she probably had intentionally dressed up as a princess. He said hello to all of them, and they flashed smiles and greetings back at him.
Jeri immediately engrossed herself in a conversation with the other women while Sawyer sat there and ate his barely warm chili. He wasn’t feeling much like carnival-ing, but he put on a good front and smiled when it was time to take selfies with his girlfriend.
Wife, he reminded himself. She hadn’t exactly moved all of her stuff to his place, but she came over at night and stayed until morning. She had toiletries there, and in the three weeks since she’d gotten her contractor’s license, when she brought groceries, they went in his fridge.
He wandered through the craft booths with the women while they passed time until the show. He cheered and clapped for his cowboy friends as they took the stage.
Dave stepped right up to the mic like he was born with one in his hand, and he said, “We’re the Last Chance Cowboys,” with a wide smile. “Let’s go, boys.”
He and Cache started playing their guitars at the same time, and the jealousy punched Sawyer in the gut this time. He could play guitar too. Jeri had even asked him to teach her how. And yet, no one on the stage had said anything to him about a band. He’d been at Last Chance Ranch longer than all of them—longer than anyone—and if there was someone who was a Last Chance Cowboy, it was him.
The Last Chance Cowboys definitely sounded country, and Sawyer could admit that Dave could sing really well.
So can you, a voice whispered in Sawyer’s head, and he tried to quiet it. It disappeared for a moment, but then it returned, seething and whispering right beneath his skin.
Lance played drums and sang harmony vocals, and at some point, there was three-part harmony. Beside him, Jeri clapped along, whooping when the song ended. She tuned to him with pure energy on her face. “They’re so great, right?”
“Yeah,” he yelled over the applause. “So great.”
And they were—and once again, Sawyer didn’t recognize this new version of himself. Didn’t know who he was. And he certainly didn’t like how he felt.
The bigger problem was he had no idea what to do about any of it.
Is this just my life now? he wondered. He turned his thoughts toward the Lord. Is this what I’m doing now? Feeling jealous and left out from something I probably wouldn’t want to do anyway?
But he hadn’t even been asked. He hadn’t even known about the band until a few days ago. He wasn’t the only cowboy on the ranch that wasn’t in it, but it still felt like he was. It was as if an invisible wall had been pu
t up between him and everyone else, and he wasn’t sure if he’d built it or how to get it down.
When he was alone with Jeri, the wall wasn’t there, and he liked that. Maybe that was why he liked her so much. Why he loved her.
The band started up again, and Sawyer went through the motions of clapping the way everyone else did.
But his thoughts refused to be distracted by good country music, and he couldn’t help thinking that maybe, just maybe, he’d fallen too fast for Jeri Bell. That maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t have married her. That maybe, just maybe, he’d done it to feel like a hero when he was anything but.
Chapter 15
Jeri felt the shift in her and Sawyer’s relationship, but she couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened. Maybe at the carnival when she’d told him she didn’t want kids. But no, she shook her head as she fitted the ceiling tiles into place. It was before that.
A couple of weeks had passed since that chili-line conversation, and yet she thought about it every day. At church on Sunday, children had consumed her thoughts, and she’d asked God if she should want to be a mother.
Growing up, it had been something she’d wanted. She’d been determined to show her family that each member was important, not just the ones that came along at the right time. And yet, she’d walked away from Randy when her ex-husband had asked her to.
She was worse than her parents.
So no, she didn’t want more kids.
She wasn’t sure if that was the strain on them or not. She knew if they weren’t married already, they wouldn’t be living the way they were, and she sighed into the steps she took down the ladder.
“So what?” she asked the air conditioned building. “I move back to my place and pretend we…pretend what, exactly?”
The empty enclosure didn’t have an answer, but it seemed the Lord did. Jeri felt that yes, she should not sleep over at Sawyer’s anymore. Go see him at night, sure. Kiss him good-night when she left, sure. But just because they had a piece of paper with the right information on it didn’t mean they were ready for everything a marriage entailed.
She climbed the ladder again and put the ceiling tile in place, feeling calmer than she had since the carnival. She didn’t want to wait to talk to Sawyer, and she didn’t think this conversation should happen through a device.
Deciding the ceiling could wait, she got down and went outside. This was the third enclosure out of five, and she was proud of how they’d come together. They were similar is shape to the existing enclosures, but these new ones were larger, with better materials.
The sound of barking dogs entered her awareness, something she usually just ignored as she worked in the Canine Club and dealt with barking all day long. But today, she walked over to the yard where most of the dogs spent the day outside. They still locked all the animals down at night due to the coyotes, but everyone got to roam outside during the day.
Maybe she needed a dog. Amber ran the volunteers and the adoption programs, and Jeri had become friends with her over the weeks. They both had a huge mop of hair, and that had resulted in some Saturday afternoons of talk about how to deal with it, usually with one of their favorite snacks.
Jeri took chips and salsa, and Amber always had fruity candy. Jeri’s mouth watered from the sour Skittles she’d had a few days ago, reminding herself that she couldn’t really take care of a dog.
But there was no reason she couldn’t take one home with her at night and put it back in the huge dog pen while she worked. Inside enclosure three, which was actually the closest one to the road, she found one of the ranch’s employees writing on a clipboard.
“Oh, hello, Jeri,” Genevieve said, looking up. “Here to look at the building?”
“I’m actually thinking about adopting a dog,” she said. “Can I just walk around?”
Genevieve wore surprise on her face, but she blinked it away quickly. “Yeah, I can take you out into the yard.” She hung the clipboard on the nail by the door and jangled a huge ring of keys. “Something big or small? Well, medium. Our small dogs go so fast, and I don’t think we have one anymore.”
“Why is small better than big?” Jeri asked.
“Easier to take care of,” she said. “Easier to walk. Easier to pick up. Easier to have sleep in bed with you at night.” She flashed a smile in Jeri’s direction. “What are you looking for?”
“I’m not sure,” Jeri said, because she hadn’t considered size one of the things that would eliminate a dog from a possible adoption.
“Well, Sawyer has that Australian shepherd. He’s a pretty decent size. Probably forty pounds?” Genevieve looked at Jeri with her eyebrows raised, but Jeri’s mind had blanked. Genevieve kept talking, but her voice echoed now.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said, realizing they’d stepped outside. Jeri didn’t even know she’d done that. “Why does Sawyer’s dog have anything to do with what I get?”
“Well, you live with him, right?” Genevieve looked at her, her blue eyes innocent yet curious at the same time.
“No,” Jeri said. “I have my own cabin.”
“Oh.” Genevieve blinked rapidly. “I—”
“Why did you think we lived together?”
“Uh….” Genevieve looked away like one of the pups that had come over to her might save her from this conversation. “I went out with Dave a couple of times. He told me you guys were married.”
The breath left Jeri’s body, and she wasn’t even sure why. She and Sawyer were married. She was practically living with him, though she still had dishes and clothes and tools—and her chickens—at her cabin.
Did married people think about themselves as living with someone?
Jeri’s feelings about needing to put some distance between her and Sawyer until they were really ready to be married roared back to life, and she turned back to the door. “I’m sorry. I forgot I need to call my electrician. I don’t have time to look at dogs right now.” She had to wait for Genevieve to unlock the door and let her back in, and then Jeri practically ran from enclosure three.
She didn’t go straight over to the area of the ranch where she’d most likely find Sawyer. He worked in LlamaLand, or Piggy Paradise, or Horse Heaven. But she went back to her cabin, too afraid to face him in that moment and tell him that she didn’t think she’d ever be ready to be married to him for real.
She called her electrician, because she didn’t want to be a liar—there was already too many other things she’d been keeping secret, including things she hadn’t even admitted to herself.
Jeri found Sawyer coming back to the heart of the ranch along the road bordering the llama pastures. She’d loitered around the barns and stables for about twenty minutes before just calling him.
He’d said he’d be in soon, and she’d stayed in the shade until she saw him walking along the fence, tapping the posts every now and then. Her feelings rose up and choked her, but she remained firm in her resolve.
She pushed away from the stable where she’d been keeping cool and started toward him. Maybe the conversation would be easier under the open sky, away from anyone who might need to go in and out of the stable.
Sawyer heard her footsteps as she neared, and he glanced up. His smile still came quickly, but she could just feel the tension between them. “Hey, beautiful,” he said.
Warmth spread through her, and she smiled back at him. “Hey.”
“What’s going on? You sounded a little upset on the phone.”
“I’m not upset,” she said. “I’m….” She had no idea what she was. How she felt. It was impossible to separate all the threads of her emotions. “I need to move back into my own cabin.”
He blinked and reached up to adjust his cowboy hat lower on his head. “I wasn’t aware you’d moved out of your cabin.”
“Oh, come on, Sawyer,” she said. “I haven’t slept there in weeks.” She glanced left and right like she couldn’t even be seen talking to him. “One of the enclosure workers knows we’re married, an
d I feel….”
“What?” he asked, meeting her eyes now. “How do you feel?”
“I feel stupid,” she said, admitting it. “I didn’t mean—I mean—I don’t think.” She sighed. “Look, if we weren’t married, I wouldn’t be sleeping over. We’d just be dating still, and learning about each other, and it would be a long time before we got married. I just don’t think—”
“You think it would be a long time before we got married?” True surprise ran through his expression.
Of course it did. Jeri hadn’t shared any of her ill will toward marriage with him. He knew her first marriage had not gone well or ended well, and he knew her last boyfriend had betrayed her and cost her everything.
But he didn’t know that she’d vowed never to tie herself to someone who could hurt her again. Not emotionally and spiritually the way Howie had. Not mentally and physically the way Brenden had.
“Look,” she said, breathing in deeply. “I just think maybe we rushed into, you know, living the married life.”
“So you don’t want to be married anymore.” Sawyer squinted at her, clearly trying to figure out what she wanted.
Join the club, she wanted to tell him.
“No,” she said. “I think everything would be better if we weren’t married anymore.”
Something flashed across his face, and it looked very much like anger. “That’s easy, Jeri,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.” He started to walk away, but Jeri reached out and grabbed his arm.
“Wait,” she said. “I can take care of it.”
“Aren’t you three days behind on the most recent enclosure?”
The fact that he knew that touched her heart. He listened to her when she talked to him at night, even if he didn’t add a lot to the conversation. “Yes, but I can do it. You only married me to help me, and you shouldn’t have to pay for it, or take your time to do it.”
He nodded. “Fine.” He gently drew his arm away from her hand. “I hope we can still be friends.” He took a couple of steps before Jeri’s brain caught up to what he’d said.