for they shall be comforted.
—Matthew 5:4
To my husband, the love of my life.
Every year with you gets sweeter.
Contents
Note to Readers
Olivia Martin pulled to a stop in front of the low ranch house, squinting against the late afternoon sunlight. She turned off her car and got out. The spring breeze was chilly, but the sunlight was welcomingly warm. She slipped on her leather jacket, and did a full turn, taking in the newly green fields to the west and the wooden fence that separated the house from the rest of the ranch. A beaten-up Chevy pickup was parked by the house, and the screen door was propped open. A child’s babble filtered out of the open door—a squeal, and then a laugh.
Olivia wouldn’t have come back to Beaut, if it weren’t for the crushing debt that her mother’s battle with cancer had left hanging over her and her brother. She had her own reasons for steering clear of this town, but it wasn’t just about her. Her brother, Brian, had stayed in Beaut after their mother’s death, burdened by a debt load that had stalled his life completely, leaving a tense bitterness between them. If her brother was going to have anything to do with her again, she needed to find a financial solution that would help him out. But the solution she’d found all depended on her old friend Sawyer West.
Olivia didn’t expect to find Sawyer at the house in the middle of the day. He was employed here at his uncle’s ranch, after all, and she’d figured he’d be out in a field somewhere. But standing by the fence, a boot hooked on the lowest rung and his hat pushed back on his head, was a familiar figure. She couldn’t see his face from where she stood, but she’d know Sawyer anywhere. A smile came to her lips as she sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Maybe this would be easier than she thought, because she sure had been praying hard for some success here with Sawyer.
“Sawyer!” she called. He didn’t move, and she started toward him, her boots crunching against gravel until she hit the grass. “Sawyer!”
He turned then, slowly and deliberately. He’d always been a good-looking guy and that hadn’t changed, but he’d hardened over the last two years since his wife’s death. Those laughing brown eyes had become flinty and cautious, and he seemed to have more scruff on his chin now than he used to wear before. She knew that the last couple of years had been hard on him... There was a white bandage on the side of his forehead, looking out of place. His level gaze landed on her, but his expression didn’t change.
“Hi!” Olivia felt her smile falter. “Sorry to just drop in like this, but—”
Sawyer looked at her quizzically, then his gaze slid past her toward the house.
“Sawyer?” she said.
“Who are you?” he said uncertainly.
Was he joking? But there was no hint of humor in those chiseled features. Something was very wrong here. She heard the screen door slam behind her and glanced over her shoulder to see Lloyd West, Sawyer’s uncle, sauntering toward her, carrying a blonde toddler in each arm. Lloyd was an awkwardly proportioned man. He had long arms and legs, hands and feet that seemed too big for the rest of his body, a sparsely whiskered face, a totally bald pate and a large nose. The toddlers seemed to be taking a real delight in trying to reach up and touch his shiny head.
“I know I probably should have called first, but I wanted to surprise you,” Olivia said, turning back to Sawyer. She smiled sheepishly. “Surprise.”
Sawyer smiled weakly, still eyeing her uncertainly. “You know me?”
Olivia blinked. Was he being serious right now? No, surely not. So why the act? Was he angry still? She licked her lips.
“I know it’s been a while, Sawyer, but come on. This is just cruel.”
Lloyd arrived then, and he put the toddlers down. One went for Sawyer’s leg, and the other squatted down to pick grass.
“Olivia,” Lloyd said with a lopsided