Chapter 4
Two months later, Sawyer set down his father’s saddle on its stand with a grunt, wiping dust off his brow. As he took a sip of his beer, he heard a giggle from the other side of the barn. A grin broke across his face.
“September Adkins, I’m keepin’ an eye on you,” he teased, making finger guns to where he knew she was hiding, in the feed room. “Pow! Pow!”
September squealed with laughter, running out of the feed room to give her brother a hug. Sawyer squeezed his thirteen-year-old sister tightly, remembering how happy he had been when she’d been born. He’d been not much older than thirteen himself, and he’d been her inseparable protector ever since he saw her joyful smile. He’d learned later what a miracle it had been: his mother had been almost too old to carry, and she’d had a difficult delivery. It only made September more precious: there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.
Wanda Adkins emerged from the barn’s office and clucked her tongue at September. “Give your brother some peace, Ember,” she said. “He has work to do.”
September pouted, but let her arms fall back to her sides. “None of my big brothers have time for me anymore.”
“I’ll always have time for you, kiddo,” Sawyer said with a smile. He stretched as her turned to face his mother. “Anything else you need moved?”
Wanda surveyed the dusty pole barn with resignation. “Not right now, I suppose. I never realized your father had so many things that needed to be taken care of,” she said. “But that’s what happens when you’re married almost fifty years.” She turned her piercing hazel eyes to her son. “Not that any of my boys seem to be interested in finding out anything about marriage.”
September stuck her tongue out at Sawyer as he shrugged. “I guess commitment’s not my thing,” he said with a yawn.
Wanda took a seat on a bench by the wall, adjusting her steel-gray braid. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, Sawyer realized how old she had become. Guilt pricked at him and he went to sit beside her.
“It’s all right, Ma,” he said. “One of my older brothers is sure to get his head out of business and out on a date soon.”
His mother kept her eyes closed. “It was more than marriage that your father and I wanted, you know,” she said. “We both hoped we’d see grandkids. He even put it in his will—the first of his boys to carry on the Adkins line would inherit.”
September was trying to tease him again, blowing raspberries with her tongue, but Sawyer was reeling from what his mother had just said. So it hadn’t been about business sense after all—it had been about his parents’ dreams of a real family ranch. He almost snorted aloud when he thought about what that must mean for his brothers who had shown up at the reading of the will. They had probably been taking notes—running off the names of every eligible woman in Minnesota, or hell, in all the Midwest for that matter—and were now attempting to outdo one another to bed every one.
Well, Sawyer had an advantage there, since women couldn’t seem to resist him. It was just a matter of finding the right girl, and the ranch would be his after all—he could pay his brothers to run the place and still have enough money for a lifetime of luxury. He imagined the satisfaction of signing his brother’s checks. Let them joke about me and my rodeo trophies all they want, he thought. I’ll prove myself more of a man than they could ever hope to be.
“Tag! You’re it,” September shouted when she managed to sneak up on Sawyer, lost in his thoughts. Wanda laughed and clapped Sawyer on the shoulder.
“Play with your sister,” his mother said. “I suppose grandkids can wait for now.”
******
Butterflies filled Camille’s stomach as she got closer to where she had circled Adkins West Ranch in marker on her map. When she had returned to Atlanta, she’d dragged her stuff out of the apartment she shared with Jackson, deleted his number, taken her truck back, and moved in with her parents for a few months till she could find a job. She’d found one pretty quickly, too, waiting tables at a greasy spoon down the street—until she spent more time throwing up in the bathroom than she did actually serving customers. Thoughts of the broken condom hanging over her, she bought a drugstore pregnancy test, and it confirmed what she already knew: she was carrying Sawyer Adkin’s child.
As if things could get any worse.
Her parents had offered to take care of her for as long as she needed, and strongly disapproved of her plan to drive back to Minnesota to tell Sawyer. But Camille had been unable to forget not only her hot night with the cowboy, but his kindness as he brought her breakfast in bed and drove her to the bus station when he had no reason to do so. Surely a man like that deserved to know he would have a child out there somewhere, even if he wanted nothing to do with Camille.
So she’d set out on the long drive to Smiley, Minnesota, and now as she coasted over the last hill on the map, she could hardly believe her eyes.
When she’d pictured Adkins West Ranch, she had thought it would be a small family operation with a few horses, and, of course, cows. It was an operation, all right, but more on the scale of something in a movie. Picturesque green pastures soaked up the late August rain, and healthy cattle napped in the shade of leafy oaks, chewing their cud. She spent so much time checking the arch over the long driveway to make sure that she had the right place that she almost crashed the truck.
No way, she thought. Maybe he just works here. Whoever owns this place has to have a lot of money. Now I feel terrible…what if he thinks I’m just a gold digger? I shouldn’t have come at all.
Swallowing her nerves, Camille continued up the driveway, which was so long she couldn’t see the house at the other end. When she got closer, she saw that it wasn’t just one house, but four of them, all enormous, clustered near a stand of sugar maples.
She stepped out of the truck, trying to decide which door to knock on first. But before she could make up her mind, the door to a nearby pole barn opened and Sawyer stepped outside, a young girl who was his spitting image in tow.
“Who’s that?” the girl asked, tugging on Sawyer’s arm.
He looked at Camille with confusion, happiness, and surprise all mixed up into one expression that made her heart skip a beat. She suddenly felt faint, and stumbled back against the truck so she didn’t fall. Sawyer was at her side in an instant, putting his arm around her and carrying her toward the closest house—which also happened to be the largest, in a gorgeous, hunting-lodge style.
“Tell Mom to bring a cold cloth and some water,” Sawyer instructed the girl, and continued to help Camille to the house. Thankfully he didn’t seem to expect her to say anything, and she leaned against his chest as her world spun—from shock or the baby inside her, she wasn’t sure. Sawyer set her down on a daybed in a guest room, sitting beside her and stroking a dark curl out of her face.
“Relax, Camille,” he said softly. “My mother will be here in a moment. She trained as a nurse, so you’ll be in good hands.”
Camille nodded, closing her eyes again. “I’m not planning to stay long,” she said, her mouth dry. “I don’t want to impose. But I thought you should know.”
Sawyer squeezed her hand tightly. “You can stay as long as you want,” he said. “I’m surprised—you didn’t send a letter or anything. What did you need to tell me that was so important?”
Camille took a deep breath before speaking. “I thought you should know, I’m…pregnant.”
Sawyer’s eyes lit up with what Camille hoped was joy, but before he could speak, the young girl from outside the house burst into the guest bedroom.
“You’re my brother’s girlfriend?” she asked, wide-eyed. “And you’re going to have a baby? Do I get to babysit? Please, please, please!” She skipped around the room. The girl’s mother—and, Camille guessed, Sawyer’s mother, too—carried a small medical kit under her arm and knelt over Camille, all business.
“How far along are you?” she asked, sticking a thermometer under Camille’s tongue. “Hold up—don’t answer that till it beeps. I’m Wanda Adkins.” She glanced at Sawyer. “I’m hoping my son will introduce you so I don’t have to ask all the questions. I must say, I’m surprised.”
Sawyer cleared his throat. “Mom, this is Camille. We…met…at the rodeo several months ago. We haven’t been in touch, so I didn’t know she was coming, but I’m very happy to see her.”
Wanda clucked her tongue, still glaring at Sawyer. “I’m sure my son has met many women, but I hope you’re the first one he takes responsibility for.” Her expression softened when she looked at Camille and finished checking her temperature. “You’re very beautiful, dear, and thankfully, no heat stroke. I imagine you were just in shock.”
“I had no idea that your home was so nice,” Camille said with a sigh, thinking about how many millions the lodge must have cost and feeling ashamed again that she had bothered them. “But really, I don’t need to stay. I can head back to Atlanta in the morning. I just wanted to give the news in person.”
“What impression did you give the poor girl, Sawyer? Did you make her think we’d kick her out? Nonsense. I’m not letting the woman carrying my grandchild leave because she has nowhere to go. Especially not back to the city. Country air is good for pregnant women—I should know,” Wanda spoke quickly as she took Camille’s blood pressure and pulse. “I’m happy to say, you look healthy enough,” she said with a smile.
Sawyer grinned. “I was going to tell her she could stay,” he said. “But I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.”
Wanda caught Sawyer and Camille up in a tight embrace. “This is wonderful news. I’ll make an appointment for the ultrasound right now, and Sawyer will drive you to the clinic in the morning. We’ll get a bed ready for you, and we’ll make sure you eat all the right things.” A tear of joy trickled down the older woman’s cheek. “This is such good news.”
“It is,” Sawyer and Camille said in unison—surprising each other with their smiles.