Andyet, his inner voice piped up, dojust-friends sleep all tangled up like a bunch of baby granddaddy long-legged spiders?
“When they’ve been through what we have, they do.” He inhaled deeply one more time to take the scent of her shampoo with him into his dreams.
Chapter 16
Jill and Sawyer walked hand in hand toward the setting sun. The sand was warm on their bare feet. Sea oats waved in the gentle night breezes on one side, and the ocean’s waves gently slapped the sandbar on the other. Sandpipers darted back and forth with the surf, searching for supper, and gulls circled lazily above them. Everything was in its place, doing what it was supposed to do at the end of the day, and Jill’s heart was at peace.
She didn’t want to wake up, so she refused to open her eyes. It didn’t work. The beach was gone, and the only sounds she could pick up were Sawyer’s soft snores and the crackle of the stove wood as it burned. He was sleeping on his back with one hand up under his neck and the other arm around her shoulders.
Easing out of his embrace slowly so he wouldn’t wake, she propped up on an elbow and studied him without fear of getting caught: dark hair, those thick lashes spread out on his cheekbones, that full mouth that could kiss so damn well, and a broad, muscular chest. But there was more to Sawyer than his quick wit and his outer good looks; he was a hardworking, protective cowboy and had a kind heart.
His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled. “I thought I felt someone or something looking at me. I’m glad it wasn’t a man in a ski mask.”
“Think Tilly made it home okay?” she asked.
“I’m sure he and Bessie were home a while ago. It’s dusk out there,” he said.
“Are you my friend?” she asked, bluntly.
“I hope I’m not sleeping with the enemy.” He smiled. “What is this all about, Jill?”
“I was involved with a man for two years,” she said.
“And it ended badly and you need to talk about it? Why now?”
She sat up and crossed her legs. Indian style, her grandmother called it. “I don’t know. It seems like I should, so that the things that are supposed to end will and the sun will finally go down on it all, and…”
Sawyer pulled himself up to a sitting position, adjusted the blanket over their feet, and laid his hand over hers. “Okay, let’s talk. You go first, and then I’ll tell you about my heartbreak.”
She paused. “This is a bad idea.”
“How long since you broke up?” he asked.
“More than a year ago.”
“Have you talked it out of your system with a girlfriend, your mama, or your aunt Gladys?” he asked. “Don’t look at me like that. I have a sister, and I know how females need to talk everything to death.”
She giggled like a little girl. “That’s why we talk about it so long. We want it to be dead and done with when we finish talking.”
“Then talk, and let’s get it in the grave. I’m a damn fine listener,” he said.
“In the beginning, I thought he was perfect. He was thoughtful and kind, and his daddy had a ranch, so we had lots in common. We’d been dating about three months when he wanted us to move in together, but I didn’t want to commit to that. Looking back, I must’ve realized something wasn’t right with the relationship even then.”
She kept talking, and Sawyer listened. He didn’t nod at the right times and pat her hand, but his eyes said that he was really paying attention. If he’d picked up a little notepad and started to write, she would have sworn he’d been a therapist in another life.
“Evidently, he figured if I was close enough, he could wear me down to do what he wanted. That was probably why his father offered me a job on his ranch. I’d been living with my grandparents and helping out on the ranch, but then they died and we found out that the bank owned the ranch, or at least ninety percent of it. Grandpa had been putting extra mortgages on it for years to keep it running, and it had to be sold at auction to pay the bank. I was out of a job.”
“I’m sorry,” Sawyer said.
“I had a little tiny trailer out behind the bunkhouse, and my jobs varied from exercising horses to helping haul hay or anything else that needed done. We had this big fight six months ago about him being so spoiled and about an old girlfriend who showed up on the scene, and the whole relationship came unglued. She was in his league, which I definitely was not. She worked in her daddy’s oil company but never got out into the real business of drilling.”
“He cheated on you?” Sawyer asked.
“I don’t know if he did or didn’t, but he started dating her a week after I left and went to another job on a ranch a hundred miles away. When that ranch sold a few weeks ago I called Aunt Gladys.”
Sawyer squeezed her hand. “You aren’t stupid, Jill. You saw it coming and got your heart ready for it.”
“I hope that’s what it is, and I’m not hard-hearted, hardheaded, and coldhearted to boot,” she said.
“Did he ever mention marriage?” Sawyer asked.
She shook her head. “No, and I’m glad he didn’t. I might have said yes.”
“Regrets?”
“Not a single one. If what we had didn’t work, then marriage would have been a big mistake. But I haven’t had the nerve to get involved with anyone since him. There are no regrets, not even when I’m right in the middle of this damn feud. Which reminds me, I will get even with them.”
“I’ve got three pistols. I can shoot with two at once if you can handle one and that sawed-off shotgun you seem to be partial to,” he said.
Like always, his wit put her in a good mood and made her laugh.
“I’ll do some practicing, and I bet we could take out a bunch of those varmints before Sheriff Orville arrived with his doughnuts,” she said.
“Which reminds me.” He covered a yawn with his hand. “I’m hungry.”
“After two sandwiches?”
“That was a long time ago. Taking a nap is hard work. I’ll make spaghetti for supper if you’ll put a pan of brownies in the oven for dessert.”
She cut her eyes up to catch his gaze. “And while we make supper, you will tell me your story, right? Or have you talked it to death with your cousin Finn or your mama?”
“Oh, honey, I pouted and whined worse than a little girl when it happened, nearly two years ago, and it’s a wonder either one of my cousins who was with me at the time will even talk to me.” He pushed the covers back, pulled on a clean pair of socks, and stomped his feet down into boots.
She felt better immediately. Any tough old cowboy who’d been hurt bad enough to cry wouldn’t be ready for a relationship any more than she was.
* * *
Sawyer set an iron skillet on the stove and turned on the flame under it. While that heated, he filled a pot with water, added salt and a splash of cooking oil, and set it on another burner to boil. Hamburger sizzled when he tossed a pound into the skillet. Jill whipped up flour and sugar and cocoa together in a big bowl while he pulled out another pan for his special sauce. None of that canned shit for Sawyer; no, sir, he made his own marinara sauce, starting with real tomatoes.
“Okay, role reversal. I’m the therapist. You get to talk now,” she said.
“To death?” he asked.
She nodded. “All the way to the grave.”
“She and I’d gone to school together since kindergarten. We went to both our junior and senior proms together and dated all the way through college. We got engaged, but she didn’t want to rush into marriage. She wanted the big, perfect wedding with all the bells and whistles, and her parents couldn’t pay for something that elaborate, so we saved our money. We even had a joint checking account, and when it hit a certain number, we were going to start planning the wedding. We were almost there when an opportunity to go on a cattle drive came up. She told me to take the month and go on. She would be busy checking out venues for the wedding,” he said.