LIZA PACED THE vast living room of the high-rise condominium she shared with Everett in the heart of Dallas. Her steps had worn a path through the thick white carpet. The fading late-afternoon sun filtered through the gauzy curtains across the windows but she scarcely noticed the soft slant of red-gold light, and although she was already dressed for the evening’s charity event, her thoughts were far away.
Wilson Cattle wasn’t her home, yet she wanted it to be so she could feel like a part of Everett’s family when she knew she wasn’t. Leaving Barren, leaving little Nick behind had left a huge hole in her heart. She wouldn’t count on Olivia or Grey coming around—though she had certainly tried to win them over—but Nick…she couldn’t get the image of him, delighted with the Lego set she and Everett had given him, out of her mind.
He was such a darling, and after a lonely childhood spent in her family’s mansion with only servants for company much of the time, she had so much love to give away. If only…
“Liza.” Dressed in his tuxedo and fussing with his bow tie, which he never got right, Everett stepped into the room and her pulse quickened. “We’ll need to buy new rugs if you keep going.”
She knotted her hands at her waist. “Is it so obvious? I’m afraid I’m not in the mood tonight for a party. Dinner, which is always the same filet of beef or chicken, so many people crowding in—” She now preferred the space and big sky in Kansas, a change in her outlook that had surprised her.
Everett covered her hands with his. Warm and solid, he had a tendency to calm her with his very presence. “We can stay home if you want.”
“No, we have to go.” During the winter season that would begin all too soon, there would be dozens of such events to dress for, socialites to smile at and various causes to write checks for, all of which were worthy, of course. For too long, these events had been the largest part of her life. As a teenager, she’d made her debut, a rite of passage into society that had cost her parents thousands for her dress alone. “Sometimes I wonder if we made a mistake. Selling my house in The Woodlands, moving here.”
Liza came from big money. She’d inherited her parents’ place, redone it several times without ever thinking of it as her own, then met Everett—and for the first time, fell instantly in love.
Their age difference didn’t trouble her at all. No, not that. For a man in his midfifties with two grown children, he looked remarkably youthful and fit. His brown hair had a few streaks of distinguished gray and his earnest blue-green eyes could have belonged to his thirty-year-old son. And actually, they did.
Everett’s years of running Wilson Cattle before he turned the ranch over to Grey had guaranteed the still-hard muscle in his arms, the flatness of his stomach. He remained a vigorous man, and tonight he was wearing cowboy boots with his tux.
My, look at you, she thought with another rush of warmth inside. You can take the cowboy out of the ranch, but you can’t take the ranch out of the cowboy. Of course, he wouldn’t be the only man in boots tonight—the hall would be full of oilmen. It astonished her how Everett had fit right into the world she’d known before him.
He drew her to the windows. They took in the sweeping sight of skyscrapers, the faraway rush of heavy bumper-to-bumper traffic on the many freeways that snaked through the area and the first wink of city lights coming on. “Look at that view. This whole town is ours, Liza. I thought you were happy here.”
They’d bought the condo a year ago to celebrate their first wedding anniversary. He and Liza had picked out every paint color, each piece of furniture and all the accessories and still…for her, like her family’s mansion, it wasn’t truly a home. Always, something seemed to be missing. At least here she had Everett.
“I didn’t say I’m not happy.”
He put an arm around her. “You don’t look happy even in that spectacular dress. What’s the color called?”
“Seafoam green—or blue, whichever you prefer. You like it?”
“I do,” he said. “I love anything you wear.” His voice turned thick. “You always look amazing, and I think what a lucky man I am. After all those years with the wrong woman, I finally found the right one. Needle in a haystack,” he murmured, bending his head to kiss the curve of her neck.
Liza moved closer to him. “Now see what you’ve done. You’ve managed to sweet-talk me out of a bad mood.” She reached up to redo his bow tie, which had been hanging lopsided on his snow-white pleated shirt.
“And you’ve managed to turn me from a lowly rancher into a high-society guy. Good thing I like it.”
“Not lowly,” she said, patting the tie. She was in awe of his quick adjustment to Dallas; Liza hadn’t had the same opportunity in Barren. “Wilson Cattle is a wonderful place. I enjoyed our stay there for Logan and Blossom’s wedding—despite the stress of Nick’s accident.” She paused before admitting, “I hated to leave.”
He moved back to study her face. Liza didn’t meet his eyes, but she could sense his thorough scrutiny. “What’s this? My bride—the woman I love with all my heart, the toast of Dallas’s elite who has turned this cowboy into a city slicker—is yearning for the ranch?”
“I wouldn’t say yearning…” Aching, perhaps. “I miss Nick, especially. After all, he’s my best chance to be a…grandmother.”
Everett laughed. “Most women your age wouldn’t be as eager for someone to call them Granny.”
She frowned. “Nick doesn’t call me anything at all, but he makes me smile just to see him.”
He took another step back, letting his arms drop. “So. You’re homesick.”
Yes, she thought. I am. Not only for Wilson Cattle, or even Nick. She’d meant Olivia and Grey, too.
And, of course, there was something else she yearned for, but she couldn’t tell Everett. She tried not to even think about it.
Instead, she tucked her arm through his. “I’ll be fine. How could I not feel simply grand tonight with such a handsome man to escort me? I’m ready now,” she said, determined not to dwell on something she could never have. “Fly me to the moon—or at least through all the maddening traffic to the Hyatt Regency.”
Although they’d been married just a few years, Everett read her like a favorite book. “Guess tomorrow we’ll have to plan another visit to Barren.”
* * *
“DOES UNCLE SAWYER live at the Circle H?” Nick asked Olivia.
In her room, making one of his morning visits, he sat on her bed, feet swinging. He’d been bombarding her with questions ever since Sawyer’s surprise visit.
Two weeks later, he hadn’t paid another “house call” to Nick, yet his presence seemed to linger, teasing Olivia’s senses every day with the faint scent of his aftershave, the sound of his murmured voice floating to her from Nick’s room as it had the night he came. Nick seemed to have acquired what Olivia feared could become—for her—an unwise interest in the uncle he barely knew. In her mind, they were both better off without that.
“For now, he does.”
Nick paused to rub his temple and Olivia’s maternal alarm system went off again. She could see his progress every day, and he could play in the backyard now, if not on his swing set, while she watched from the kitchen window. His balance had improved, but she didn’t trust him to stay safe. Were his headaches worse than he let on? For a second, she felt tempted to phone Sawyer, then suppressed the urge.
She didn’t want him here again, didn’t really want him around her child, but Nick’s initial distrust of his uncle had changed since their talk in his room that night. In Logan’s absence, maybe Nick was looking for a surrogate father. Certainly Sawyer looked much the same, but the last thing she wanted was to get close to him. She had nothing to gain from that, and Nick risked getting hurt if—or when—Sawyer left.
Nick frowned. “Why doesn’t he stay all the time?”
“You’d have to ask him. Your uncle lives in a faraway place,” she said. “He’ll probably go back soon.” A prospect that both eased Olivia’s mind and tempted her to already miss him.
Nick’s gaze stayed steady on hers. “How do you know?”
“Because that’s where his job is.” And the source of the pain she saw in Sawyer’s eyes whenever he let down his guard. Most recently, she’d been the cause of that pain in her own living room after she’d put Nick to bed. Olivia still felt bad about that.
Nick stayed silent for a moment while Olivia checked her cell phone again. Earlier, Ted Anderson had finally called with his counteroffer to her second bid on his shop. Even the sound of his voice had perked up her spirits. She wanted this deal, badly, but then the newest numbers he’d quoted had stunned her.
Ted had rushed to complete his inventory, and his stock was worth more than he’d thought. She could barely afford what she’d already offered him, and after her disappointing meeting with Barney Caldwell, she didn’t have the option to up her game. Olivia wouldn’t go on a date with Barney to help her cause, but she felt half inclined to speak to Barney’s mother as he’d jokingly suggested. Her deep pockets might be just what Olivia needed—assuming Mrs. Caldwell actually wanted to do business with her. And vice versa.
“Does Uncle Sawyer ride horses?”
A loaded question. She should have known. “Nick,” she said, guessing what would come next. A day didn’t pass without him finding some way to bring up Hero. Because of Jasmine, she could understand how much he missed his gray gelding, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him ride yet.
There were no new messages on her phone, which she laid aside on the desk. Olivia conducted business from here in the evenings, her “home office.” The small surface of the rosewood antique desk was, as usual, littered with paperwork. She really needed to catch up. And she was stalling with Nick. “What have we talked about? If you’re not ready for your swing in the yard, then you’re not ready to ride Hero.”
His mouth turned down. “Mom.” He drew out her name. It had become increasingly rare for him to call her Mommy. “School’s going to start soon.”
“You have time.” Weeks, because August had barely started, but Nick was right. The days of summer were racing past.
“When I have school, there won’t be time. I’ll have homework,” he said in a dramatic tone. “I’ll never ride Hero again.”
Olivia tried to smooth a hand over his hair, still rumpled from sleep, but he ducked away. Nick hadn’t wakened until after ten o’clock this morning, which she struggled not to take as a bad sign.
“I know that’s how you feel right now, but didn’t someone tell you to be patient?” As soon as she said the words, she wanted to take them back. Nick pounced on that.
“Uncle Sawyer did. Maybe we could ask him if it’s okay?”
Maybe we shouldn’t. But Doc was still out of town. He and Ida had extended their vacation, going from Las Vegas to the Texas Panhandle. They were reportedly having a great time, staying on Padre Island. And Sawyer was, supposedly, still filling in for Doc. She couldn’t deny that a check-up might help ease her fears about Nick’s progress. But no, she didn’t want Sawyer making another house call, invading her personal space and leaving part of himself behind.
Most women, she supposed, would have no problem with that. They might welcome having a handsome man around, but Sawyer’s attractiveness wasn’t all there was to him. If she’d needed that, she could have stayed married to Logan.
Sawyer had left here the last time rather than unburden himself any further about Kedar, and she didn’t want to see that sorrowful look in his eyes again. She didn’t want to care, or feel guilty, yet she did. For Olivia, that was a dangerous admission. She didn’t want another relationship—and Sawyer clearly didn’t, either.
“I think we’ll wait a bit longer, Nick. Your appointment with the neurologist is coming up soon. We can let her make the decision.”
“She’s at the hospital.” Nick had developed a definite aversion to that.
But Sawyer was at the Circle H. Seeing Nick’s ploy, Olivia shook her head. He had taken the passive approach first, asking about Sawyer in a roundabout way as if his interest in his uncle didn’t really involve Nick. Of course, that had led to Hero.
She didn’t avoid the Circle H now as she had for the past three years, and Sawyer had picked up on her feelings, but she didn’t go out of her way to visit the ranch, either—just as she seldom went to Wilson Cattle.
Still. That was all her problem, not Nick’s. I would do anything to make Nick happy. How could she deny him the chance to at least see the little horse he loved?
“All right,” she said at last. “Let’s go visit Hero.”
“Yay!” Nick bounced up and down on her bed. “Thanks, Mom.”
She sighed, then couldn’t resist the warning. “This doesn’t mean you’re going to ride today.”
Her caution fell on deaf ears. Before she finished speaking, Nick was off the bed and shooting across the hall to his room with all the speed of a barrel racer. She could hear him rummaging in his closet, probably for his boots, banging drawers as he searched for a Western-style shirt and clean jeans. He never went near the Circle H these days without dressing the part.
Smiling, Olivia tidied the stack of papers on her desk. She guessed they could wait. She could indulge Nick in this simple pleasure. If Sawyer was there, she’d ask him to check Nick over again. But she wouldn’t dress the same way. She was no longer the cowgirl she’d once been.
Olivia was now a city girl—or at least, temporarily, a Barren girl.
She told herself she liked it that way.
* * *
SAWYER WAS IN the barn, grooming Sundance, when he heard a car pull up in the yard. With a last sweep of the brush over the horse’s hide, he glanced out the open doors and saw Olivia’s car. His pulse began to throb.
Two weeks and he’d managed not to call or see her again. He still felt ashamed that he’d marched out of her house rather than talk about Khalil. He couldn’t.
He also couldn’t get Olivia out of his head. The way the lamplight had shone on her blond hair, gilding it with gold. The unwilling yet concerned look she’d given him that had sent him rushing off. The gentle way she had with her son. Even Nick’s comment, “You’re a good doctor,” had kept Sawyer from going back. He’d wondered how Nick was doing, but—
Nick raced into the barn. “Hi, Uncle Sawyer!” A bag of carrots bumped against his leg as he ran, checking each stall he passed until he stopped in front of Sawyer. Nick had violated the no-running rule and paid zero attention to Olivia’s calls to slow down, but Sawyer was glad he’d come. Saved him the decision to phone Olivia—or show up again at her door.
“Where’s Hero?” Nick asked with a worried look.
“Out in the corral. Taking some sun,” Sawyer said. “How are you?”
Nick didn’t answer. He whirled around, then shot back down the aisle and turned the corner toward the pen where several other horses were turned out, too.
Olivia stood just in the doorway, squinting into the dimly lit stable. Nick had nearly knocked her over.
“And how are you?” she asked, reminding him of his hasty retreat from her house. “I would have called before we came over, but Nick was so eager to get here, I didn’t take the time.”
He held her gaze, all but drinking her in. “You don’t need to call. This will be Nick’s ranch someday.” He added, “Sorry for that—a couple of weeks ago.” Then he rushed past her. “Nick shouldn’t be alone out there. I don’t want him in the corral.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Breaking the stare they’d been sharing, Olivia followed him outside. They found Nick halfway up the fence, leaning over to offer Hero a carrot. A whole one.
“That’s probably too much for him at once,” Sawyer said. “Here. Let me break off some pieces for you.”
But Hero had already pulled the carrot from Nick’s hands. It dropped to the dirt and the horse nosed it, then stepped on it with one elegant hoof. He nudged part of the mashed carrot, lipped it and finally got some into his mouth, dirt and all. Sawyer could swear he saw the horse smile.
“He likes ’em,” Nick said. “Me and Ava always feed him.”
“He doesn’t usually eat them with dirt.” Sawyer stood inches away from Nick, leaning on the fence in a mirror image of the boy. They both crossed their arms on the top rail. Nick’s feet dangled off the ground but he didn’t seem to care about his precarious perch. “Let’s hope he doesn’t colic tonight.”
“He won’t. He never does.” Nick was obviously the expert. He eyed Sawyer. “You going to look at me again? I think my mom wants you to.”
Olivia sighed. “Nick, just say what you want.”
“I want to ride Hero.”
“There’s a familiar refrain.” Sawyer thought of messing up the boy’s hair to show him he was teasing but he didn’t. His arms stayed on the rail.
Olivia stepped up to his other side, not touching him, either. Even so, Sawyer could feel her heat as if their shoulders had brushed. “Would you mind?”
Sawyer started. For a second, he’d thought she meant for him to touch her. “So that’s why you dropped by today.”
“One reason,” she said, nodding in Nick’s direction. “He’s been begging to see Hero, as you might expect.”
Sawyer smiled. He turned his head toward Nick. “Why don’t we let Hero work on his carrot? Bring the rest of the bag. You didn’t forget Sundance, did you?”
At first, Nick was reluctant to leave his horse. He tossed carrots to the other cow ponies in the corral, but once inside the barn, he walked along the aisle with Sawyer, doling out treats to every horse, greeting each one by name.
“You’re going to make a fine rancher, Nick.”
He nodded. “That’s what I want to do.”
Sawyer heard Olivia make a small sound of distress, which he ignored. He assessed Nick as they went, looking for any signs of neurological impairment, not finding any, probing again about his headaches. Nick refused to answer. “You already asked me that.”
“So I did.”
“They’re better,” Nick finally said. “I’m all better.”
“Well.” In the center of the aisle, Sawyer stopped, shoved his hands into the rear pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his boot heels. Olivia kept her distance, standing beside a stall, clearly understanding this was between Nick and Sawyer. “Your mom tells me you have a doctor’s appointment soon.”
“Another doctor,” Nick said, watching a buckskin mare vacuum up a carrot.
“True. Okay, but for now it seems to me you’re in pretty good shape.”
Nick almost danced up and down. The bag of carrots fell to the floor. “Does that mean I can ride? Say yes!”
Olivia stepped in. “No, really. I’d rather he didn’t—”
Sawyer steered her away, raising his eyebrows. “Let me handle this.” He faced Nick again and lowered his voice. “Sometimes moms get…worried,” he said.
“A lot,” Nick muttered, rolling his eyes. He gave Sawyer a hopeful look.
“And sometimes, we…guys have to stick together. So here’s the deal. You can ride Hero today but only in the ring. I’ll move the other horses to the pasture. Go get your saddle and bridle. Then we’ll see what kind of horseman you are.”
With a shout, Nick punched the air. His boots stomping, he ran toward the tack room.
Olivia’s mouth had become a flat line “Sawyer, I don’t like this. I told Nick he could come to the ranch to see his horse. Shouldn’t that be enough?”
“Not for Nick. Come on, Olivia. I won’t let anything happen to him.”
“But…”
Sawyer moved the other horses. He oversaw Nick while he saddled Hero and did a pretty good job. Sawyer readjusted the cinch, tightening it as he said, “I don’t know if your dad has told you this, but after you’re done saddling, your gear and the horse warm up—which means the cinch can get loose. It’s always good to recheck it a bit later.”
“This is the first time I’ve saddled Hero by myself.”
The kid was determined, all right. Sawyer liked his spirit, but no wonder Olivia tended to worry even when she shouldn’t. “Well, then. Lesson learned. You can take him outside now.”
With a lead rope slung over his shoulder, Sawyer walked close to Nick, keeping a careful eye on him while Olivia trailed after them.
In the corral, Nick swung into the saddle like a pro, making Sawyer smile. He glanced back at Olivia. One second, she looked as if she wanted to snatch Nick away and bundle him into her car, the next she seemed resigned. Or as if she trusted Sawyer? He didn’t suppose she often gave up control of her son, and the realization made him…happy.
Nick gathered up his reins, then started off with a quick, light jab of his boot heels in Hero’s sides, but Sawyer caught the bridle. “Hey. Whoa. Today you just sit back and enjoy the ride.” He clipped the lead rope to the bridle.
“I can do it myself!” Nick protested.
“I know you can. Your mother will feel better if you don’t.” Sawyer gave him a man-to-man look. “Are we square?”
“Yeah.” Nick looked away. “But I’ll feel like a baby.”
“You’re on the horse, aren’t you? Count your blessings.”
Olivia’s thank-you look was enough to melt his bones.