Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
“Your truck is pretty cool,” Amber said just before yawning.
As the crow flies, Sawyer’s cabin wasn’t that far. But thanks to those twisting, mountain roads, it wasn’t a straight shot in his truck. So it took them about ten minutes to reach it. He could have gone faster, but he swore nothing was darker than Southeastern Oklahoma in the dead of night. Why risk it? Especially when carrying such precious cargo as Little Amber.
The more he was around her, the more he was convinced that was true. He was the type of guy who found every life sacred, sure. Everyone had value. But Amber?
There was something special about her.
His heart was screaming that she was the one . Yet his brain kept countering that, reminding him that such a notion was ridiculous. They’d only known each other for a couple of hours.
There had been a time before in his life when he was convinced he’d found the one. It hadn’t worked out so well. Maybe he needed to temper himself and cool his expectations here.
That was hard when just the sound of her sweet voice caused all kinds of thoughts to swirl in his brain.
“What kind of truck is it?”
The question pulled him from his thoughts. “An ’85 Ford Bronco.”
“It’s in really good shape, Sir.”
He couldn’t suppress a grin. How cute was this little girl?
“It wasn’t when I bought it. Had to put a lot of work into her. But her best days are ahead.”
“Does she have a name?”
“Eh… no. I reckon not.”
Amber shifted in the bench seat until she was looking at Sawyer rather than straight ahead, and he could feel her gaze on him. It was difficult not turning his attention to her, but those roads, especially at night, weren’t something someone should ignore.
“I name everything. I don’t know if all Littles do that,” she continued with a giggle. “It keeps me from getting lonely. Gives me people—or things—to talk to.”
Sawyer wondered if his heart was literally being torn in two. Thinking about what that poor girl had gone through her whole life felt like someone had shoved a knife into his chest cavity and started sawing. How had she remained so positive?
He brought the Bronco to a stop in front of his place, put it in park, and turned to face Amber. “Could you think of a name for her?” He patted the dashboard.
“Really?”
“She’d love it. So would I.”
Amber giggled. “Yes, Sir! I’ll think of a really pretty name. I’m good at that.” She giggled some more.
“I can’t wait to hear what you come up with,” he said. “But right now, we best get inside so you can get ready for bed. It’s late and I expect you want to hit the ground running tomorrow.”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied. “I can’t wait to get started on the cabin. I’ll have it looking great in no time!”
He didn’t doubt she would. In fact, he suspected Amber could and would do anything she set her mind to. It was a quality he greatly admired.
“Come on. Let’s get inside so you can get settled in,” he said.
Five minutes later, after getting the tour—which didn’t take that long thanks to the cabin’s modest size—he said, “Why don’t you go get ready for bed? Give me a shout when you’re ready and I’ll come in here and make sure you’re all tucked in.”
He hoped he wasn’t being too forward. But he felt as if he needed to at least say goodnight and make sure she was comfortable. That was just being a good host, after all.
Right?
“Yes, Sir,” she replied before yawning again.
Poor cutie had to be exhausted, so he went to his own room, leaving her in the guestroom to get ready. He did the same, brushing his teeth and peeling his jeans and shirt off, replacing them with a gray t-shirt. He needed more, though, before he could go around Amber. So he rummaged through his drawer and found his workout shorts. He didn’t wear them around the house very often, but again, he couldn’t very well stroll around there in his gray boxer-briefs.
He had just gotten properly attired when he heard Amber’s sweet voice call out, “Mr. Sawyer, Sir? I’m ready.”
Cutie. She couldn’t help herself with that mister stuff.
“Be right there,” he answered back as he made his way to the guestroom.
The sight that greeted him upon entering broke his heart. The little sweetie was sitting on the bed, her head hung, sniffling. He rushed to her.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that… well… I always sleep with Honey. She’s my best friend in the whole wide world. But today…” She held up something and it took Sawyer a moment to realize it was a stuffie in two parts, with the bear’s head in Amber’s right hand and the body in her left.
“What happened to your stuffie, honey?” he asked.
The Little sniffled again before saying, “Someone was… mean to her.”
Sawyer’s blood boiled. He thought about asking more questions, but didn’t want to cause Amber to relive something painful right before going to bed. After a long day, she needed her rest.
So, he gently took the stuffie’s parts and said, “You know what?”
“What?” she asked.
“You’re in luck. I happen to run stuffie hospital right here out of my place.” He grinned, trying to put the Little at ease.
“You do?”
“Oh yeah. Littles come from near and far for my renowned skills. You wait right here. In fact, go ahead and lay down and get comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
Sawyer hurried to the cabinet in his utility room where he kept his thread and needles. He got what was needed, grabbed his readers off table by his recliner in the living room on his way through, and went back to Amber, happy to see she’d been a good girl and gotten under the covers to settle in for the night.
He pulled out the ladder-back wooden chair that rested in a corner, brought it closer to the bed, and sat down.
“You said Honey is her name?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Well, Honey will be good as new and feeling great here in a few minutes. Then, you two can get some good snuggles and a great night’s sleep.”
Amber giggled. Sawyer put his readers on and then peeked at her to see that her eyes were transfixed on what he was doing.
“Where did you learn to sew like that, Sir?”
“My grandfather,” he said, keeping his eyes down and focusing on the task at hand now. “One of the many skills he passed on. Said it would come in handy and like almost always, the man was right. Got better at it in the Navy.” He chuckled. “Unfortunately, most of that was sewing up wounds and…” He cleared his throat and shot Amber an apologetic smile. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear about all that. Especially right before bed.” He continued working as he said, “Anyway, sewing is a great skill to have.”
“Would you teach me sometime, Sir? That is, if you’re not too busy. I know you probably have lots to do.”
“I’d love to teach you,” he said.
“Thank you.” A moment passed before Amber continued. “Sir, may I ask you a question?”
“You can ask me anything.”
“What do you do? Like for a living?”
He kept working his fingers delicately, getting the thread all the way around the bear’s neck and working his magic on the plush doll as he replied, “Little bit of this and that. Mainly I run a tree farm right here on my property. Started out as a lumberjack, working for others, but that never really suited me. I do best when I’m my own boss. I take on clients during hunting season, as a guide. Besides all that, I just sort of… live off the land.”
“Do you sell Christmas trees?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Sure do. Chop ‘em down, load ‘em up, and sell ‘em in town right after Thanksgiving every year.”
“May I see them sometime, Sir? I’ve always wanted a Christmas tree!”
Once again, Sawyer’s heart was in agony. Had she never had a Christmas tree her whole damn life? It was over half a year until the holidays, but one thing was for certain: he’d make sure Amber had a hell of a Christmas this year.
“Of course,” he said. “But right now, you and Honey…” he held up the fixed bear, “need to get to sleep.”
“Honey!” Amber cheered, sitting up quickly and reaching out for the bear.
Now, Sawyer’s heart was full as he watched her squeeze the stuffie tightly against her chest.
“I told you. Good as new. Maybe even better. I made sure she’s patched up nice and strong. Now, Little Miss Cute Stuff…” He said the name before he’d even realized it, instantly hoping he hadn’t gone too far. “You best get some shut-eye. You have a big day tomorrow.”
“Yes, Sir!” she said, still clearly excited about the new and improved shape of her stuffie. “And thank you! For everything, Sir.”
“You’re very welcome. You let me know if you need anything. Sleep tight.”
“You too, Sir. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
He paused at the door, cast one last look over his shoulder, and smiled. Up until that point, he’d thought those mountain sunrises and summer sunsets were the prettiest thing God ever created.
But the sight of Amber snuggling with her stuffie was just maybe the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Damn.