Two mornings later Maya wondered if her first day at her new job could have gotten off to a worse start.
First, she’d tossed and turned all night, worried about everything that could go wrong. She felt apprehensive and unsettled about having to leave Joey with a sitter for the first time and anxious to do her best work for Dr. Gonzales. Added to that was the friction between her and Sawyer over her going back to work in the first place and her making plans to move out.
She’d awakened with a throbbing headache, too much to do and too little time to do it all.
Yawning and rubbing her eyes, she staggered into the kitchen to make some tea. At least she’d had the foresight to pack Joey’s bag the night before, she thought, rummaging through Sawyer’s pantry for her basket of herbal teas. When she didn’t find it, annoyed, she closed the pantry and searched the countertops. Her eyes stopped at a white sheet of notepaper balanced against her tea basket. Her stomach clenched. Had Sawyer left early to avoid seeing her this morning? He’d made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t happy about her new job or her moving out. So had he decided simply to avoid her until she and Joey left?
Reluctantly she picked up the note, which looked as if Sawyer had scrawled it on the run.
Sorry to have to leave so early on your first day of work. Rafting accident, they’re shorthanded, I decided to go.
Maya groaned. His shoulder wasn’t ready for this. What if he had to lift? Or swim or who knew what. Shaking her head, she turned back to the note, irritated. And worried.
Stop frowning. I can see the worry lines from across town. The doctor cleared me.
Maya felt the frown lines melt. Did he know her that well already? Although she knew very well he was only cleared for “light” duty—as if he would ever make that distinction. If he went back, he’d plunge in feetfirst. It wasn’t in him to give any less.
I heated the water and left your favorite morning herbal weed in the pot to steep—not that it’ll jump-start you, but it’s made. By the way, that stuff really stinks.
Maya turned to the beautiful copper teapot Sawyer had bought especially for her. Before she’d brought her thirty or so various teas into his house, he’d had no use for anything but a coffee/espresso/cappuccino maker. Her heart twisted at his thoughtfulness. He was so good about the little things.
I asked Regina to come over to help so you won’t be late to work. I know, you don’t need help. But just this once accept it, please, since I can’t be there. Good luck. You’ll be great. You could feed bat dung to a patient and he’d think it was the nectar of the gods….
Ever,
Sawyer
“Ever. Oh, Sawyer,” she whispered on a deep sigh, rubbing her fingers over the note, “if only it could be.”
Somehow with Regina’s invaluable help she managed to pull herself and Joey together to drive to the sitter’s house, then to the clinic. Dropping off her son was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Even though she was leaving him with someone Val knew and trusted, nonetheless she could barely stand the moment of separation. Her stomach knotted, her heart swelled and she couldn’t hold back the tears as she gave up her precious baby to another woman.
The home-based childcare Val had recommended couldn’t have been more ideal, complete with a degreed and certified caregiver who was the sister of an old friend of Val’s. Her home was immaculate, with rooms specially designed for her business. She obviously didn’t really need the money and therefore had taken on only three small children and Joey, who no doubt would be hopelessly spoiled.
Still, leaving him, watching him look at her and imagining the reproach in his eyes as she walked away from him and opened the door, nearly did her in. The temptation to change every plan, quit her job, take Joey, run back to Sawyer’s and beg him to let them stay forever in his care nearly overwhelmed her. Never more had she needed every ounce of willpower she possessed. Grabbing that doorknob, turning her back on her son, had to be the most anguished thing she had ever forced herself to do.
On the way to the clinic she’d told herself she was being melodramatic, silly even. Yet her heart didn’t listen to her head. Rational or not, she couldn’t help her feelings.
Once she’d gotten to work, she’d called the sitter every chance she’d gotten all morning, and thankfully the woman never seemed irritated or chided her for the numerous calls. Instead she cheerfully reassured her each time that Joey was fine, eating, laughing, enjoying the other children. By ten o’clock, Maya could almost breathe.
Doctor Gonzales had been very patient, showing her the clinic, the acupuncture room, the massage room, various herbs and aromatherapy bottles and outlining Maya’s duties. Her new employer had also been extremely empathetic to Maya’s distraction over Joey.
“Don’t worry,” she’d said, her dark eyes sympathetic. “It gets easier every day. I have two of my own, so I know what you’re going through. You will live, honestly. Look at me—” she patted her gently rounded belly “—I’m going to have my third and I still get sick to my stomach when I think about having to leave him or her when I go back to work. That’s why I’m so glad you’re here now.”
After Dr. Gonzales had hugged her, Maya had almost broken down and bawled, but managed to keep all but a few tears in check. Now, again, standing alone in the linen closet, for no apparent reason the tears were back and she was swallowing hard to keep them at bay.
“Enough already,” she muttered, swiping her eyes for the thousandth time and reprimanding herself as she grabbed some fresh hand towels and hurried down the hallway to greet a patient in the front office. There, instead of the one person she expected, she saw five.
One of which was a soaking wet Sawyer, his T-shirt gashed in several places as if he’d had a fight with an angry cat. He and Paul—who also looked as if he’d spent the last hour standing in a heavy rain—stood propping up a teenage girl between them. The girl, in a swimsuit top and shorts, looked half-drowned and seemed to be favoring her right leg. Two younger boys hovering in back, wet, wide-eyed and shivering, appeared scared but otherwise unhurt.
“Rico and Tonio are bringing the parents,” Sawyer said, easing the girl into a chair. “They should be right behind us. I think Cathy here sprained an ankle, and her dad may have broken a couple of fingers. Other than that, everyone seems okay.”
Just then Dr. Gonzales rushed out of a patient room and into the lobby. “Bring these first three back,” she said, motioning to Sawyer and Paul. “I have rooms ready. Mom and Dad will have to wait.”
Maya looked from Sawyer to Dr. Gonzales, eyes questioning.
“I’m sorry, Maya,” Dr. Gonzales said. “I didn’t have time to warn you. I was in the middle of a treatment when my beeper went off. Sawyer called to tell me the Romero family was in a rafting accident. They’re all patients of mine. Have been since I delivered their first child. They refused to go to the hospital.”
Maya waved off her apology. “What can I do?”
“For starters, help Sawyer take Cathy into Room Two. Paul can help me get the boys settled and then we’ll bring in the others when they get here.”
“You’re pregnant. Why don’t I wait and bring in the others?” Maya asked.
Dr. Gonzales laughed. “Don’t fret, mamasita. I’m not lifting anybody. I’ve got all these men to do that. I just want to take a quick look first.” She turned to Sawyer. “And I don’t want you lifting anyone either. If you didn’t do it out on the river playing superman, I won’t have you messing up that shoulder again in my office. You already look like you added a few more scars to your collection out there,” she said, nodding toward his ripped shirt. She looked at Maya. “Your drenched friend here dived into the rapids to pull Cathy and her brothers out of the river.”
“Yeah, he was awesome!” Cathy spoke up for the first time. “He got me out, then went back in for Mark and Matthew.”
Paul snorted. “And he ought to be fired for breaking whitewater protocol.”
“Tell that to the river,” Sawyer said, scowling at his friend.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Maya said, leading the way to the examination room. They helped the thin, shivering girl inside and onto the table, and Maya arranged a pillow for her ankle, then gave her a gown, instructing her to undress down to her underclothes and promising to check on her in a few minutes.
Outside in the hallway, Maya rounded on Sawyer, about to insist he let her take at look at the damage under his shirt, when Rico and another firefighter came in with the older Romeros.
She didn’t have time to fuss over him for the next hour as she worked side by side with Dr. Gonzales treating the injured family members. Sawyer was right about Cathy’s sprain, and in fact, Cathy, her cheeks pink with the thrill of a youthful crush, had eagerly invited him to watch as Maya and Dr. Gonzales applied an herbal poultice, then wrapped it.
Only one of the Romeros, the father, had broken bones. He’d broken two fingers on his left hand when a rush of rapid waters threw him up against a boulder and he’d tried to break the impact with his hands. Maya stood beside Dr. Gonzales now, prepping his fingers with an herbal gel before Dr. Gonzales set the bones.
Sawyer, with orders to get himself patched up and go home since he hadn’t been officially on duty in the first place, stood nearby watching with open curiosity. “What does that green gunk do anyhow?”
Maya felt the power of his body shadowing her from behind, his deep voice resonating against her skin.
“Keep dissing my medicines, Morente, and your lesson is over,” Dr. Gonzales warned.
“It helps to reduce swelling and numbs the pain so Mr. Romero can relax while Dr. Gonzales places the splints,” Maya explained.
Dr. Gonzales smiled. “You do know your craft, young lady.”
Maya said nothing, but a sense of pride filled her. She knew it was mainly because Sawyer was there. She found herself wanting him to respect her work instead of thinking of her the way he thought of her parents—alien visitors from a Martian moon-beam.
Beside her, Pepe Romero closed his eyes a moment while the salve did its work. “Much better. Thanks.”
Sawyer watched the procedure but looked unconvinced it was doing any good. “Are you saying that’s some kind of local anesthetic?”
“Only better,” Dr. Gonzales said.
Maya nodded. “No needles and no side effects.”
“Interesting.” Despite his skepticism, Sawyer couldn’t deny there seemed to be something to this natural-healing stuff. Dr. Gonzales’s patients not only believed in her and in her treatments, but he had to admit the whole experience felt more humane, less hurried, far more personal than similar experiences he’d had taking patients to the E.R. And he himself could attest to the benefits of Maya’s massages.
Whether or not he trusted in it, he could tell Maya was good at what she did and that Dr. Gonzales respected her skill. Although he hadn’t reconciled himself to her moving out, he knew this job was the perfect opportunity for Maya to make use of her obvious skills. And he knew he should tell her that, even if it meant she took it as support for her determination to be completely independent of everyone, including him.
When Dr. Gonzales had finally finished and was giving the family last-minute instructions on their way out, Maya took the opportunity to practically drag him to the medical supply station down the hallway.
“You’re bleeding,” she said once they were inside the small room, critically eyeing him up and down. “Take off your shirt and let me have a look.”
Sawyer obliged her by whipping off his T-shirt. “Anything else you’d like me to take off?”
As if on cue, warm color flooded her cheeks. “That smirk on your face,” she muttered. Gently she examined the several shallow gashes and scratches on his chest and abdomen. “How did you manage to get all these?”
“Took a little swim with some unfriendly rocks and a few branches. It’s just a couple of scrapes. They’ll be gone by the weekend.”
“What, you heal faster than mere mortals, too?” Maya said. Shaking her head, she turned and began searching the shelves. When she found what she was looking for, she used a swab to dab the grayish ointment on each wound. “Thank goodness it looks like you’re right about these. But they’re going to sting for a while unless I put this on.”
“More stinky stuff,” Sawyer said, wrinkling up his nose. “Doesn’t anything natural smell decent?”
“You do.” She didn’t look up from her deft ministrations, but her soft, low voice held echoes of emotions beyond the concerns of a healer. “I could close my eyes and know it’s you, even with all the river water.”
Sawyer forgot the cold cling of his damp clothes, the smarting sting of various scrapes and cuts and everything else except Maya as his body reacted to her touch and the suggestion in her voice. “What is it about you that I can spend two hours in the river, drag in here feeling like I’ve been on the losing side of a fight and in thirty seconds you can have me ready to ravish you in the supply closet?”
“Maybe all the smelly stuff is going to your head,” Maya said lightly.
But her hand trembled slightly where she touched him, betraying her attempt to appear unaffected. Sawyer smiled to himself. Taking the swab away from her, he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. “Your weeds have nothing to do with it.”
“Don’t be so quick to bad-talk my weeds. You’d be surprised what I can do with them.” She smiled herself, a little secret curve of her lips guaranteed to give him several ideas. “For instance, someday I’ll show you a thing or two about aromatherapy. I promise you’ll enjoy that, especially when I combine it with reflexology.”
“Are you sure that’s legal?”
Maya laughed. “Probably. It’s a fancy word for the best foot massage you’ll ever get.”
“Are you making me an offer?” Sawyer asked. “Because if you are, I accept.”
“If you’re lucky, I might give you the chance. But right now I need to get back to work.” Snagging his shirt from where he’d tossed it onto the sink, she held it up, eyeing it doubtfully. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Unless you’ve got a replacement around here somewhere.” He took her hand as she made to give his shirt to him, his expression suddenly serious.
“Fresh out,” she said lightly, wondering why the shift in his mood. “But I could offer you one of these sexy white clinic smocks.” Her attempt at humor was lost on him and she laid her other hand atop their clasped hands. “Hey, what’s the matter?”
“You’ll think I’ve lost it, but I have to tell you that I’ve been worried all morning about Joey. I couldn’t stop wondering if he’s okay with the sitter.”
Maya reached up, drew the back of her hand down his stubbled cheek and smiled. “Believe me, that makes two of us. But he’s fine. Really.”
“Good,” he said with a nod. He pulled his damp shirt on, the motion drawing Maya’s eyes to him. “Then do you mind if I see for myself and pick him up early?”
She looked up quickly, flushing, realizing he’d caught her staring at his chest. “Sure, of course. I’ll call and tell her you’re coming.”
“You know,” Sawyer drawled, deliberately moving closer to her, “if you like what you see from the waist up, there’s a lot more I could show you. If you’re interested.” Bending to her, he kissed her, holding her only with his mouth for a few lingering moments. “Are you?”
A little breathless, she asked, “Are you being a tease or do you really need an answer?”
Sawyer kissed her again, this time making sure she’d remember it the rest of the day. “You just gave me my answer,” he murmured as he forced himself to draw back. “But since this closet is too small for what I have in mind…” He trailed off deliberately.
“If you keep this up, I’m going to get fired my first day for illicit use of this closet.” Maya glanced to the open door. “Dr. Gonzales is probably already wondering where I am.”
Touching a finger to her lips, Sawyer smiled. “One look at all that pretty pink color in your face and that sparkle in your eyes and she won’t be wondering long.”
“Thanks for that,” Maya muttered and gave him a push toward the hallway. “Go already, before I do something to embarrass myself even more.”
“And what might that be?”
“Sawyer!”
“Okay, I’m gone,” he said, grinning at her. Stealing another quick kiss, he left before she could make good on either the threat in her eyes to throw something at him or the promise that he’d made up his mind to hold her to later.
Maya came home exhausted but delighted with her first day at the clinic. It had been everything she’d hoped for and, with Dr. Gonzales as her guide, much more. Famished, she went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of carrot juice, then headed through the house in search of Joey and Sawyer. Sawyer’s truck was in the garage, so she knew they were home. But a quick look around the house proved futile.
Then she noticed that the French door leading to the side patio hung open. She hurried outside, her heart pounding with anticipation, eager to hear all about Joey’s day and more about Sawyer’s river escapade. But when she found them, instead of bursting into questions, she stood still, watching.
The two of them lay sleeping in a gently swaying hammock, Sawyer’s big body cradling her tiny son. A light sage-scented breeze caught at the dark wave of hair sweeping Sawyer’s brow. His handsome face looked more content, more relaxed than Maya had ever seen before. And Joey, snuggled safe and warm against Sawyer’s chest, looked as peaceful and secure as any baby possibly could be.
Moving quietly, she stepped closer, near enough to lightly brush her hand over Joey’s silken tufts of hair. She’d missed him so much today. Joey wriggled a little, yawned, but didn’t open his eyes. But Sawyer did. He blinked a few times against the salmon blaze of setting sun, then smiled when he focused on her. “Hey,” he said softly, “don’t worry, he’s fine. He had a great day.”
Maya moved her hand from Joey’s cheek to brush the errant wave of hair back from Sawyer’s forehead. “Thanks. I can see that. You two look so—”
“Right?” Sawyer brushed a kiss over Joey’s head. “At least, that’s how it feels.”
“That’s how it looks. He fits perfectly into the crook of your arm.”
“With his appetite he won’t for long. He’ll outgrow me cuddling him in no time.”
An ache of sadness caught at Maya’s throat and for a moment she couldn’t speak. She sensed Sawyer preparing himself for their move, for the rejection, for the loss of Joey. “He’ll always want you to cuddle him,” she said. “Children never outgrow wanting to be loved.”
Sawyer looked from her to Joey, and for a moment Maya glimpsed behind the defenses he’d built for himself and saw a tenderness for Joey that brought tears to her eyes coupled with an old longing for something he might never have. In the next moment he’d checked the emotion.
“Can you take him, please?” he said. “We’ve been crashed here for a while and I need to get up and move. Besides, you look like you won’t be able to stand another minute of not holding him.”
Gently Maya bent and picked up her sleeping baby. As she nestled him against her breast, back in her arms, all her anxiety seeped from her. “I knew he was okay,” she said, “but touching him, holding him, I never imagined I’d miss him this much.”
Sawyer rolled out of the hammock and folded them both in his arms. “Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. I was practically nuts by the time I got to the sitter’s house. The way I rushed in and grabbed Joey, she probably thinks I’m a maniac.”
Maya laughed at his rueful expression. “Don’t feel bad. I would have done the same thing.”
“Why don’t you put him to bed while I rustle up some dinner?”
Joey gurgled and wriggled a little in Maya’s arms but didn’t awaken. “Dinner sounds great. I didn’t have time for lunch. But I’ll cook,” she said.
Sawyer rolled his eyes. “Let me, would you? I won’t poison you.”
Maya considered him with mock suspicion. “You won’t try to sneak any meat in, will you?”
“Scout’s honor. Though you’d have more color in your cheeks if I did.”
“The lack of color is from sleep deprivation, not a need for animal protein.”
“Whatever. I won’t serve you anything that used to breathe, okay?”
“I guess I’ll have to trust you,” she said, laughing at his pained look. “I’ll put Joey down and then freshen up. I won’t be long.”
Ushering her ahead of him, Sawyer tugged at the band holding her braid, then combed his fingers through her hair until it fell in a wild cascade that captured the glow of the setting sun. “Feel free to slip into something a little more comfortable,” he breathed against her neck. “I’ll be waiting.”
Maya hurried to freshen up, taking a quick shower, then bathing herself in rose water. Joey awoke just long enough to nurse and have his diaper changed, then he drifted back into a deep sleep. Maya took her time with him when he was awake, relishing his every sound, the powdery baby scent of him, his searching blue eyes, his contentment as he nestled against her.
After she tucked him in, she rifled through her wardrobe, tempted by Sawyer’s invitation. Finding a casual sapphire-blue cotton skirt she’d forgotten she had, she slipped it on over her black thong, satisfied with the way the bright material clung to her hips before flaring out to float lightly around her ankles. She topped the skirt with a lighter blue snug-fitting spaghetti-strap camisole, daring to go braless for the first time in nearly a year.
Sawyer didn’t have to know she had only one scrap of satin on underneath her long skirt, but it made her feel womanly, sexy again as she hadn’t felt for a very long time, even if it was a secret she shared only with herself.
Dabbing a little blush and a little lipstick on, she tossed her head down and brushed out her wild hair. Flipping it back, she scrunched it a little, then decided that would have to do. This wasn’t a date, after all. Even if it felt like one.
She found Sawyer on the patio, lounging in an oversize rattan chair next to a small wrought-iron table set for two—cloth napkins, candles and all. He’d lit the garden torches all around, so that the huge pots of pink, yellow, purple and orange bougainvilleas encircling the patio dining area swayed beneath the flames of a golden aura. In the corner, a small outdoor kiva fireplace puffed out sandalwood-scented smoke, adding a slightly sensuous scent to the air.
“Wow,” she said, taking in the gorgeously romantic scene. “I feel like I’m at one of those elegant hotels in Santa Fe.”
Sawyer stood up as soon as he heard her steps. He watched her walk toward him, her light steps gliding gracefully over the cool Spanish tiles, catching teasing glimpses of her slim ankles and slender calves beneath the diaphanous billows of her skirt. He traced the curve of her hips to her small waist and full breasts outlined by the thin sheath she wore with his eyes, wanting to take the same path with his hands. Coppery wisps of hair framed her face, catching a little in the moisture on the lips he ached to taste and brand with his own.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured as she came into his arms as if she had always belonged there.
Running her hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders, she smiled into his eyes. “You’re not so bad yourself, cowboy.”
Sawyer started to answer the invitation in her eyes when Maya’s stomach growled loudly and she blushed.
“Sorry,” she said, backing out of his embrace. “My stomach is being obnoxious. Kind of a mood killer, I guess.”
“Oh, I don’t know, I’m still hungry,” Sawyer said as he pulled out a chair for her at the table. He moved close with the pretense of helping her closer to the table and instead pushed her mass of hair aside to kiss the bared curve of her neck.
He felt her tremble and knew they were thinking the same thing. And it didn’t have anything to do with food. “I’d better eat something first,” she said even as she leaned back into him.
“Yeah. Me, too,” he said, tasting the tender curve of her throat.
“I meant food.”
“Oh, that.” Reluctantly Sawyer let her go. “Okay, your stomach wins. Here—” He poured her out a glass of the sparkling grape juice she’d been substituting for wine since she’d gotten pregnant and was nursing. “You sit and sip that and dinner will be served in a minute.”
A few minutes later Sawyer returned with a platter bearing two steaming bowls of soup and two covered plates.
Maya looked at him in surprise. “What’s all this?”
Sawyer gave her a lopsided smile. “I’m busted. It’s Regina. She left tortilla soup, vegetarian of course—she caters more to your diet than to mine these days—and a veggie burrito for you and a meat burrito for me.”
“Well, every great chef needs a great waiter,” Maya said.
“I did make the jalapeño corn bread. It was a mix, but I say it still counts as cooking.”
“Ten points for the corn bread. Fifty points for those jeans.”
“Hey, no fraternizing with the hired help,” he said, serving her the soup. “At least not until after dinner. So how was your first day—I mean the part I wasn’t there for?”
Maya smiled happily. “Better than I could have wished for. Dr. Gonzales is great. We’re right in sync with our treatment methods and philosophy.”
“I could tell you were in your element. I was impressed,” he said, reaching across the table for her hand, “genuinely, with you and with your weeds.”
So he had noticed the compliment Dr. Gonzales had given her and even offered one of his own. Her heart warmed with pleasure. “I couldn’t ask for a better boss. And something else happened today that—”
The ring of Sawyer’s cell phone interrupted them. “Sorry,” he said as he grabbed the phone from the low wall next to them. “I need to be sure this isn’t business.” He looked at the number display and cursed. “Damn. It’s Cort. I’ll keep it short.”
“No problem, I’m a slow eater anyhow.”
“Great timing as always,” Sawyer answered the call tersely.
Maya couldn’t hear Cort’s side of the conversation, but from Sawyer’s responses and his ominous scowl she guessed his brother was pressing him again about a meeting with Jed Garrett.
“I’ve already moved on,” Sawyer was saying. “I told you I’d think about it and I did, for the approximately two seconds it took me to decide it was a waste of time.” There was a pause, and then Sawyer snapped, “Never is looking better all the time. Later, Cort.”
Maya waited a moment, then gathered the courage to say, “I don’t think he’s going to give up until you go and see your father.”
“Can we please change the subject?” Sawyer said tightly as he downed the remains of his wine in one drink.
Maya bit her tongue and took a sip of her own drink. “Okay,” she said, thinking the opposite. Although she knew it was the last thing Sawyer wanted, she was inclined to side with Cort. If Sawyer never faced his past and laid it to rest, Maya was beginning to believe he’d never be able to trust himself to commit to anyone else. And more and more, the idea of them being apart seemed harder to accept.
“So what were you telling me before the interruption?” he asked, obviously making an effort to recapture their earlier mood.
Maya’s heart sank. Oh, no, the timing was all wrong now. This was the last thing she wanted to talk about after that phone call. “Oh, that.” She let out a little nervous laugh she knew only made things worse. “Well, um, nothing. It can wait.”
Sawyer’s eyes narrowed. “Spit it out, Maya.”
Maya fumbled with her napkin, then sighed and put it down. It might as well be now. Putting this off wouldn’t make it any easier. “It’s just that, well, I had mentioned to Dr. Gonzales when I took the job that I was looking for a place to live.”
Sawyer went very still. “And?”
“And today she was talking to the Romeros about the rest of their family, you know, asking how they were and so on.” Maya wet her lips, forcing herself to hold his gaze. “They have a cousin, actually cousin and cousin-in-law, a young couple who had built a little adobe casita at the back of their property for the wife’s mother-in-law, but the mother-in-law died unexpectedly, leaving them with a mortgage they can’t afford.”
“Unless they rent the casita,” Sawyer said flatly.
Even in semidarkness, Maya saw the light fade from his eyes. “Yes.”
“So when do you and Joey leave?”