Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Sawyer had reluctantly driven to the diner.
He wasn’t necessarily in the mood for company, but Quinn’s words had rattled around in his head all afternoon and into the evening.
The sheriff was right.
How could he ever meet a Little if he stayed holed up in his cabin all the time, or traipsing through the woods every spare minute, living like some mountain man back in 1830?
So, he’d hopped in his truck and drove the few miles to the eatery. He might as well have stayed home. There wasn’t anyone else there besides him and Marsha, the older woman who owned the establishment.
She was about sixty or a bit older and was as sweet as could be. She was also the type to mind her own business when it came to Big Cedar’s unique dynamic. She wasn’t in the AgePlay lifestyle, so she didn’t get too wrapped up in it all other than commenting on how cute the Littles were.
At least that’s all she did the times Sawyer had been in there and witnessed her interactions.
He was hoping that stayed the case tonight.
He didn’t mind chatting with her. A little company now and then was nice. But he wasn’t in the mood for anyone to play matchmaker or ask him when he was going to find his sweet Little.
People meant well. But it was still annoying.
“You doing okay over there, hon?” Marsha asked from behind the counter where she stood at the register, counting money.
“Yes, ma’am. Still good,” Sawyer said from his booth near the middle of the old place.
He looked around and smiled, liking it in there. It was old fashioned, like him.
Tin signs of old, some even long-gone brands hung tastefully on the walls. The hardwood floor was original to the building, as were some of the built-in booths and that the register rested on. He didn’t know exactly how old it was, but it had stood there for at least a hundred years. Maybe a few more.
“Well, you let me know if you need anything,” Marsha called, though she never looked up from her counting and organizing, her reading glasses sliding further down the tip of her nose.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
The burger and fries before him were nearly finished, and he was thinking about going for a piece of pie next. Near the register was a glass case that held some sweet treats, and he’d eyed the chocolate meringue on his way in.
He took a drink of tea and contemplated the pie with a chaser of coffee.
“Doesn’t sound half bad,” he noted quietly.
He got up and walked toward the counter.
“Now I told you to let me know if you need anything,” Marsha said.
He held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. I felt bad about just yelling for you.”
“Oh, we’re not formal around here, hon. You know that. What do you need?”
“Wouldn’t mind some of that chocolate pie and?—”
A bell jingled as the door swung open. A young lady stepped in, momentarily causing Sawyer to forget what he was even ordering.
She was gorgeous.
She was at least ten years younger than his 41 years, and maybe even twelve or thirteen years separated them. She had light brown hair and an adorable oval-shaped face. Her large, chestnut eyes held a healthy dose of innocence and Sawyer found himself instantly wanting to protect the woman.
From what or whom, he didn’t know.
He only knew that he had the overwhelming desire to wrap his arms around her and shield her from anything life threw at her.
Was it her small body? She seemed so tiny compared to his muscular frame that towered at about five inches over six feet.
Or was it just her air and the way she carried herself?
He couldn’t shake it. He was drawn to her.
“Well, aren’t you a doll!” Marsha said with a welcoming smile.
The young lady’s face lit up in a smile and the giggle that escaped her lips was the cutest thing Sawyer had ever heard. Damn. It was all he could do not to scoop that sweetie into his arms and hold her tightly.
Stop being ridiculous. You don’t know this girl. Haven’t even heard her name yet. Back up and get your wits about you.
“Thank you, ma’am. My name is Amber Hanes. Pleased to meet you.”
She seemed satisfied, as if delivering a line she’d rehearsed.
Sawyer couldn’t suppress a grin as he kept his eyes on her, unable to look away.
“Well, Miss Amber Hanes, it’s good to meet you. I’m Marsha. I run the café here.”
A few seconds of awkward silence ticked off the clock before Sawyer realized he was supposed to fill it. He cleared his throat. “I’m Sawyer.” He nodded.
That’s all you got? Wow, dude.
“What brings you in today, Amber?” Marsha asked, after shooting Sawyer a knowing side grin.
“Ma’am, do you know if there are any ridesharing services that run in these parts? I’m trying to get to my cabin. I came in on the bus and well, I’ve been told it’s about three miles away.”
“Oh, honey, we don’t have cabs or Ubers and all that around here,” Marsha said. “Where are you going?”
Sawyer looked to see the disappointment in Amber’s eyes. There was also something else there. Was it… fear?
It broke his heart.
“I’m going to the Collier place,” she said. “I answered an ad online. They’re looking for someone to care for the cabin in exchange for living there rent-free.”
“Oh, honey, you were told correctly. The Collier place is a ways outside of town,” Marsha confirmed.
“It’s okay. Thank you, ma’am.” She gave a little wave and said, “It was nice meeting you.” She looked at Sawyer. “It was nice meeting you, too, Sir.”
She turned and headed back toward the door but Sawyer called out, surprising himself even, saying, “Where are you going?”
The girl spun on her heels. “I’m going to walk, Sir.”
She was very matter of fact about it, and Sawyer suspected she was used to doing whatever needed to be done rather than sitting around and feeling sorry for herself. He respected that.
But she wouldn’t be doing that tonight.
“No you’re not. Those roads are dangerous at night. The Collier land backs up to mine. I’m going that way anyway. I’ll give you a ride.”
She opened her mouth, probably to protest, he figured, but he kept talking, not giving her the chance.
“Why don’t you just settle in here, get something to eat, and we’ll leave in a bit.”
Her eyes darted from him to the menu that was posted on the chalkboard that hung on the wall behind Marsha. He continued to study her, seeing the desire for food, but sensing a change in her disposition when her eyes landed on the prices.
Marsha’s prices were more than fair. But that didn’t matter when one hardly had any money.
And Sawyer could tell that Amber hardly had any money.
Her clothes weren’t a perfect fit, and they were tattered in a few places. He would bet his Navy pension that she was barely scraping by and just doing the best she could.
“I’m not hungry, Sir,” she said.
It was Marsha who answered. “Are you sure?” She sighed with a heavy frown. “I’ve got so much food in the back that I’m going to have to throw out.” She shook her head. “I make it fresh every day. Misjudged what I needed today and ended up with too much. I’m just going to toss it out if no one eats it.” She smiled softly and looked at Sawyer. “I’ve been trying to get this feller to take it, but he says he’s just ready for pie. Isn’t that right?”
Sawyer hated lying, but under the circumstances, he figured it was worth it. “That’s right,” he said with a nod. “Do me a favor and eat it, kid. Then Marsha won’t keep hassling me about it.”
“What do you say?” Marsha asked, looking back at Amber again.
“Well… I am kinda hungry now that you mention it,” the newcomer said. “And I can pay you, ma’am. I don’t?—”
Marsha held up her hand. “I won’t hear of it. You just get comfortable, honey, and wait while I get you a plate.” She looked at Sawyer before turning around. “You want pie and were probably about to ask for coffee, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded.
“I’ll have some with you,” Marsha said with a smile.
Amber was smiling, too.
And that made Sawyer smile. Bigger than he had in a while.