Chapter 7
Sawyer
“Sawyer, can you take your grandma to town? She needs to pick up a prescription.” Dad uses the side of his fork to cut off a chunk of egg to scoop onto his toast.
“Um.” I pause mid-chew. “What time?” I choke out, grabbing a swallow of coffee to swallow.
He blinks at me, then his brows furrow. “I don’t know. This afternoon I think? After you’re done with the saddles. She’s going over to Dixon’s to help with the twins this morning for a while.”
“Oh. I, uh, got something going on this afternoon. Can Sophia take her?” I push another wad of sausage into my mouth.
Speak of the devil.
“I can’t. I have the horse chiropractor coming at two for Misty. I think she’s getting tight in the back end.” Sophia plops into the chair opposite of me at the table and idly picks up a piece of bacon.
“Like owner, like pet,” I grumble.
“Now, son,” Dad chuckles. “You can take her. Look at this beautiful breakfast she made.” His hands sweeps over the dishes. “You know she can’t drive anymore with her glaucoma, but I bet she’ll buy you an ice cream.”
“That sounds like a lovely idea,” Grandma appears from the hall carrying a squirmy Jack. “This little booger needed a new diaper already! I think that milk went right through him.” She starts to set my little brother into the playpen, but Dad stands up with his arms out.
Gross. I hate diaper talk.
“Heya, buddy.” Dad’s smile splits his cheeks as he props Jack on his knee. He pushes a few pieces of scrambled eggs within reach of the chubby fingers.
Jack lets out a contented squeal and does his best to fist a handful into his mouth.
“Where’s Grandpa?” Sophia glances up as Grandma passes behind her to sit heavily in the next chair.
“He went with Ford to the north pasture. A tree fell on a fence I guess.” Grandma rolls her eyes behind her thick glasses.
That makes me glower at Dad. “Isn’t he too old for that?”
Grandpa can barely walk, much less ride.
Neither of my grandparents can drive anymore, it’s why Dad brought them here to live with us.
But not to work.
“I can’t argue with him, he’s a stubborn cuss.” Dad shrugs.
Well. We all get that honest, I suppose.
“Besides,” he continues. “There’s a pretty good chance he’s just sitting in the saddle telling Ford what to do.”
Sophia snorts. “I bet Ford loves that.”
“Loves what?” Lori asks, appearing in the kitchen with teeny tiny Ben nestled into the crook of her arm.
Grandma gets up and tuts, reaching for the infant.
Lori passes off the bundled baby and finishes pouring a cup of coffee before sliding next to Dad at the table.
“Oh, Clyde is supervising Ford out on the fenceline.” Grandma rocks my youngest brother against her neck.
“Ah,” Lori laughs. “Yea, I bet Ford is really loving that.” She holds up a piece of toast. “Thank you again for breakfast, Hazel.”
“Of course, dear! I love having a full house to cook for again.” Her smile is warm and genuine as she pats the baby’s back in a slow rhythm.
“Sawyer.” Dad turns back to me.
Shit.
“Tell me why you can’t take your grandma to the pharmacy?” His dark eyes narrow, making the crow’s feet at the corners deepen.
“Honey, you don’t have to worry about that. I can get them some other time.” Grandma waves her hand at me.
I haven’t told him, or anyone, about Hilltop.
And I definitely don’t want to in front of everybody.
Dad’s gonna flip.
“I gotta be somewhere at three,” I mumble. Picking up my plate, I head towards the kitchen in an effort to avoid any more conversation.
“Can it wait for about an hour?” His voice carries after me.
“No.” I don’t want to argue, but I also don’t want to miss work.
Val would be pissed.
His lips thin. “Tell Scotty you’ll play your games a bit later.”
“Dad, it ain’t games. I just can’t. I can go earlier, would that work, Grandma?” I turn to her in a desperate hope she can save me from this chasm I’m falling into.
“I don’t see why not. It isn’t critical, dear.” Her soft brown eyes are three times their normal size through the lenses.
“Thanks, Grandma.” I grab my boots and stuff my feet in so fast my jeans ride up the backs.
I don’t care, I need to get out of here.
“Wait, son.” Dad leans back, bouncing Jack as he talks. “I’m curious now, what’s so important at three if it isn’t Scott?”
Lori slips her palm onto his thigh.
Is she trying to distract him?
Please pay attention to her, not me.
“I bet it’s a girl.” Sophia grins around her bacon-flecked teeth. “That’s why he’s getting all red faced.”
There isn’t a dirty enough scowl to send her way. I need to invent one.
Dad’s brows shoot up. “Really? Is it that Shufflebottom girl? She always gives you those googly eyes when they came over.” His mouth slowly tilts as he tries to fight a smirk.
Everyone turns to me.
Fuck.
My face feels like it’s on fire.
Without a word, I stomp out the door where I can breathe again.
It ain’t a bad thing, making pizza.
But it’s not what Dad wants.
Shit, it’s just something to do to get out of the house. A break from horse shit and dirt.
And a chance to see Val look at me like I’m a hero again, like last week with that asshole.
No one here looks at me like that.
They just expect me to do whatever.
At least she appreciates me. It made me feel pretty good when she said I got better at the dough stuff.
She noticed that I tried.
Sometimes around here, they only pay attention when I fuck up.
Was the only reason Dad asked what I was doing because it conflicted with something he wanted me to do?
Would anyone else have cared as long as Grandma got her pills on time?
Sure feels like it.
I kick a rock through the dust on the way to the barn. It’s so damn hot and dry out here, I see why I have to oil up the saddles.
It’d be such a perfect job for Grandpa since he likes to sit most of the day anyhow.
But nope, good ol’ dependable Sawyer will get it done.