Cowboy On Call

He looked toward the spot where Olivia had been standing moments ago. In a wisp of filmy skirt and a silken swirl of blond hair, she was gone. He hadn’t missed the look in her eyes, though. She was no happier to see him than Sam seemed to be.

He squared his shoulders, then plunged into the crowd, greeting former friends he hadn’t seen in years. People, like Olivia and Sam, he’d never thought he’d see again.

* * *

THE LOUD MUSIC—the band played hard rock almost exclusively as the night wore on—made Olivia’s head hurt. Sipping at her single glass of champagne, which she didn’t really care for, she stayed on the fringe of the festivities, counting the minutes before she could leave. Avoiding Sawyer. Avoiding her father.

He and her stepmother had arrived from Dallas only that morning, her brother had told her. While she was glad her father had found a better life with Liza, she didn’t want to talk to him. Or to her, either.

Olivia was still here only because Nick had balked at leaving.

“I’m having fun!” he’d shouted. Then he’d run off again with his new best friend, headed for the refreshment tables.

Olivia had left her gift in the ranch house, and she wished she could go home now. Other people were beginning to drift toward the makeshift parking lot on the far side of the yard, the hard packed dirt area beyond the grass that led to Logan’s barn. She heard laughter, talk of some upcoming doings in town, a promise here and there to get together soon.

“Are you hiding?” Sawyer’s familiar voice snapped Olivia to attention. “I never thought of you as a wallflower. Yet here you are, keeping away from everyone. Or someone,” he added, obviously meaning himself.

She looked away. “I’m about to leave. It’s way past Nick’s bedtime.”

“Your son,” he said.

She nodded. “Your nephew. The one you’ve never met.”

That didn’t surprise Olivia. Sawyer had cut and run long ago, and he hadn’t come back—until now. Which reminded her of Nick’s mostly absent grandfather. Her dad hadn’t seen her son in a year. Nick was far closer to Sam Hunter, not that she would keep Nick from her father if he ever decided to play devoted grandpa at last.

She fought an urge to squirm. Seeing Sawyer appear so suddenly again had been a shock, but she hadn’t confused him with Logan for more than a second. Olivia had always been able to tell the twins apart when most people couldn’t. They had the same dark hair and deep blue eyes and almost identical builds, yet Olivia could see subtle differences. Their physical resemblance was strong but, for her, superficial.

Logan, who’d become a professional test pilot, was steady and calm; Sawyer was more intense and impulsive. She couldn’t deny he was an attractive man, to put it mildly, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him again, and Olivia wasn’t in the mood for a heart-to-heart chat—or anything else.

She searched for Nick, then spotted him marching around the yard carrying a big piece of cake in a napkin. The band launched into yet another earsplitting tune and Olivia took a step. “I’d better go.”

Sawyer stopped her. “So this is how it will be, Olivia? Come on, I’ve already been stiffed by Sam. Haven’t talked to Logan yet. Why not spare me a minute here? It’s been a long time. Tell me how you’ve been since...the last time I saw you.”

“Fine,” she said. Her personal life was certainly none of his concern. Never mind that they’d once been friends. That had ended a long time ago in a field between the Circle H and Wilson Cattle, her family’s ranch next door. “In fact, I’ve just heard about a possible opportunity to expand my antiques business. There’s another store on the way to Wichita that I’ve been interested in for some time. The owner plans to retire.” She bit her lip not to ask Sawyer about his life. They weren’t friends anymore.

He looked past her toward Nick. “Which would mean a move? Away from Barren?” He knew she wasn’t fond of the Circle H, in part because of him.

“Possibly. I haven’t thought that far yet,” she admitted. “I’d probably want to be near both shops. There’s a nice little town halfway between there and Barren, so I’d have an easy commute each way. I’ve heard good things about their elementary school. By September, when Nick starts second grade, maybe I’ll be ready to move.”

Olivia hadn’t said the last word before Nick rushed up to them with his friend Ava, Olivia’s niece. The two had gradually come closer but Olivia hadn’t noticed. His deep blue eyes, so like his father’s and Sawyer’s, flashed. “No!” he yelled, making Olivia’s ears quiver.

“Nick—”

“I won’t leave the Circle H! I’ll stay here with Daddy!” Then he pulled Ava across the yard, through half a dozen cars in the parking area and they raced toward the barn. “I’m going to see my kitten!”

The blood drained from Olivia’s face. “I didn’t realize he could hear us. I haven’t talked with him yet or made a firm decision.”

“He had a point, though. And what would Logan say?”

“He won’t want us to leave town, but...” She watched the children disappear into the barn and stifled the need to go after them. “I didn’t mean to upset Nick. I’ll give him a bit of time, then talk to him.” She hesitated. “But I have to think about my business, too. Our means of support.”

“Olivia.”

Determined to avoid any more talk with Sawyer, she left him standing there and started toward a small group of other guests gathered near the porch. On the front steps, Blossom held her bridal bouquet aloft. An excited bunch of younger women were waving their arms, hoping to catch the spray of white roses, baby’s breath and calla lilies and be the next to marry.

After she’d made the toss, Blossom came down the steps, her gait somewhat impeded by her gown and her obvious pregnancy. Her unhappy previous relationship was behind her now. This baby, although not hers with Logan, would be born into love, would be cherished...as Olivia cherished Nick.

Blossom said, “Thank you for the gorgeous quilt.”

“My pleasure. Best wishes.”

Olivia said goodbye to Blossom, then started toward the barn. She was halfway there when nine-year-old Ava burst outside and tore up the hill, her eyes wide as she barreled into Olivia.

She caught the little girl’s shoulders. “What is it, Ava?”

Breathless, she could hardly speak. “Nick! He fell. I think he’s dead!”

CHAPTER TWO (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199)

SAWYER HAD FINALLY found a chance to speak to Logan. They had just started to talk, when a little girl he didn’t recognize shot out of the barn, waving her arms and shouting. Halfway up the hill, she ran straight into Olivia, and Sawyer watched Olivia’s face turn white.

Logan was already running toward them. “Nicky!” he yelled. “Nicky!”

As if his boots were glued to the spot, Sawyer stayed where he was. For a guy who’d always responded to any crisis stat, who’d studied and interned, done his residency and practiced medicine under the worst trauma conditions, he couldn’t seem to move.

Nicky. His nephew’s name alone should have galvanized Sawyer but didn’t. He heard the girl’s words echo, sounding thick inside his head, as if both ears were plugged. Dead.

A dozen images of disaster flashed in his mind. A man pulled from the rubble, one of his arms crushed. A pregnant woman, her cuts and scrapes ignored as she went into labor on the hard, rock-strewn ground, moaning in pain. A precious child...

From behind him, Blossom loped across the lawn, holding up her bridal skirts, then passed him by. Several other late-leaving wedding guests rushed with her to the barn.

And still he didn’t move.

After a long moment, he realized Olivia hadn’t, either. With one hand over her mouth, her blue eyes wide circles of fear, she stood there, frozen like some ice statue. The little girl clung now to her skirt.

“Stay here,” he said, finally forcing his legs into motion. On his way past, he lightly touched Olivia’s shoulder. “Let me check out the situation.”

She didn’t answer. Pulse thumping, he left her and, like some caboose at the end of a train when he was used to being the steam engine, followed the last people into the barn.

He couldn’t see through the circle of wedding guests in the aisle, their bodies blocking his view.

“Move back. I’m a doctor,” he said but in a weak tone.

Logan was the last person to obey his order. He’d been down on one knee, bending helplessly over his little boy. Sawyer felt the same way. Those other images kept running through his brain.

He pushed the memories aside. “Let me see, Logan.”

Logan didn’t have a trace of color left in his face. He got up but his gaze didn’t leave his son.