Chapter Seventeen
“Y ou need to learn how to cook, buddy.” Mac set a plate of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans in front of Sawyer. “You eat here way too often. Not complaining, just sayin’.”
Sawyer, still in his scrubs, shook out one of Carly’s famous gingham paper napkins and laid it on his lap. “Why should I learn to cook when I’ve got you, Mac?” He eyed the plate of food, which looked delicious, but he was almost too tired to dig in. It had been an incredibly long and busy day at the clinic, then he’d gone out with John to help do 4-H health exams on four sheep, seven goats, two hogs, six calves, and one very unhappy pony, who—as it turned out—was suffering from a stone bruise in one hoof.
All he really wanted was supper and a bed—preferably one with Anna in it. But that wasn’t going to happen tonight, and it was probably for the best. He was exhausted and maybe even a little cranky. He’d turned down her invitation to come help set up booths for the Redbud Festival after he got done with farm calls. He knew he’d be tired and stinky—she certainly didn’t need to see him like that. He tucked into his meatloaf, which was perfect and reminded him of his grandmother Braxton’s—tender and tinged with the flavors of thyme and Worcestershire and onions.
The diner was practically empty. Mac had said earlier that most everyone was down at the River Walk helping with festival preparations. He was handling the diner with only Norma while Sue, the two busboys, and Carly got the diner’s outdoor grill booth set up for the brats with peppers and onions Mac would be serving at the festival.
“No date with Anna tonight?” Mac plucked dirty dishes from the counter and piled them in the dish tub.
Sawyer looked up. “Not much gets past the River’s Edge mill, does it?”
“Not if you’re dating one of the most popular and loved women in town.” Mac crossed his arms over his chest and rested his jeans-clad butt against the stainless sink area behind the counter. “Seriously, you two are the talk of the river.”
Sawyer merely kept eating. He was rarely the talk of anything, which was a disappointment to his parents, who loved nothing more than an opportunity to parade their kids’ accomplishments out for all their colleagues to see. Last time he’d been on display was back in the fall, when he’d published a paper on high-pathogenicity avian influenza’s impact on domestic mammals in the JAVMA . It had been well received and gotten him a spot on a couple of national news programs as a subject-matter expert. The notoriety had pleased him because he was able to share his knowledge, but it had delighted his parents. They had a PBS NewsHour viewing party at their house, where he’d gotten quietly drunk on very expensive pinot noir and ended up sleeping it off in his old bedroom.
“Ya know, you’re an enigma here, Doc,” Mac continued, a towel dangling from one hand. “We take bringing our newcomers into the fold very seriously, and we don’t know squat about your life before you landed here.”
“Not much to tell.” Sawyer closed his eyes for a moment to savor the slightly lumpy mashed potatoes swimming in butter—exactly the way he loved them.
Mac raised one brow and shoved the bandana a little farther back on his salt-and-pepper hair. “Yeah? Google says otherwise.”
“You googled me?”
“Carly did. Found videos of you on PBS NewsHour and CBS Sunday Morning . You’re quite the expert on bird flu—been all over the TV talking about it. Hell, you even presented at the Royal Veterinary College in England. Impressive stuff. How’d you go from being a hotshot professor to a small-town vet?”
“Well, not all over the TV—a couple networks. The gig at RVC was a fluke—my dad was speaking in London and asked me along, something he rarely ever does—usually it’s my brother or sister who go on the international trips with him. While I was there, I drove down to see an old classmate at Kingston Maurward in Dorset, and he hooked me up with someone at RVC…and you know…” He flipped his hand as if to brush away the importance of speaking at the Royal Veterinary College, even though it had been kinda nice to know his father was in the audience that day.
“Why’d you leave the university life?” Mac seemed truly interested, and that touched Sawyer. He really hadn’t spoken to anyone in River’s Edge about his former life except for John and a little bit with Anna as they were feeling their way toward one another.
He ate a few more bites before answering simply, “I was done.” At Mac’s puzzled expression, he continued, “I liked teaching, but I wasn’t crazy about feeling like I had to research and publish, had to push to be a department head, had to create new curriculum or even had to be in a classroom. I was happiest when I was with the animals, showing students how to care for them. That was the best part of teaching. I was done trying to live up to the reputations of my very”—he didn’t want to sound whiny—“ academically successful family. I love ’em all, and I’m proud of them, but animals are what motivate me, and even though I sometimes confound my parents, they’re proud of me too. Mostly, like all families, we only want each other to be happy.” He lifted one shoulder in a little self-deprecating shrug. “A colleague at school heard John was looking for a second vet for his practice, so I applied. Fell in love with River’s Edge almost as soon as I drove down Main Street.”
“Didn’t hurt that the first person you talked to was the lovely Annabelle Walker.” Mac lifted the heavy dish tub.
“Not a bit.” Sawyer refocused on his dinner while Mac carried dishes to the back. Again, it struck him how well this town suited him—like he’d finally found home after years of being the square peg trying to fit into the round hole of his family’s academic pursuits. He was glad for Huck and Phoebe and proud of his parents, but that life had only made him tired. Taking care of River’s Edge’s pets and their owners gave him a sense of fulfillment he hadn’t experienced since his days volunteering at the shelter near the university while he was in vet school. He’d tried it his family’s way for over ten years, and he’d made a success of it, but without the serenity he felt at the clinic or out on farm calls with John.
“Pie?” He’d been so lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t even been aware of Norma’s presence until she hovered over him with a coffeepot. “We’ve got blueberry, apple, and lemon meringue, plus Tim brought us apple dumplings yesterday. I think we have a couple left.”
“Tim, the cider guy?”
“Yup, they make them every fall and they sell like hot cakes at the Halloween Hoopla and people buy them for Christmas. He had a couple of boxes left in his freezer, so he brought them down to us.” She smiled coaxingly. “They’re darn good warmed and topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.”
“Sold.”
The dumpling was better than good, it was delicious, and Sawyer promised himself he’d go up to Dykeman’s Orchard and Cidery soon. Maybe he and Anna could bike up there and she could also show him the houses Walker Construction had built on the hill. Thoughts of Anna sent warmth washing over him, and he wondered what she was doing down on the River Walk. Maybe he would wander down there…
*
At last, the festival was as ready as it could be for Friday morning’s opening, and Anna was beat down to her sneakers. She perched on the stone wall that lined the backyard of the Warner Mansion with a few of her closest friends. Megan, Sam, Tierney, Harley, Holly, Jazz and Jenny—two of the Weaver triplets—and others had all worked like trojans with other townsfolk setting up booths and displays. Holly’s Tea Leaf booth got put up, as well as the Flahertys’ Four Irish Brothers Winery tasting booth, Melinda’s watercolor stand, Tierney’s Moon Maid Jewelry kiosk, and Riverside Diner’s grill and picnic tables.
Anna was particularly proud of her display that included photos she and her kids in the Boys & Girls Club phone photography class had taken. She’d given them an assignment to photograph something unusual in River’s Edge. The students had produced some fascinating pictures that included the moonlit empty gazebo in the city park, a blue heron on the end of a dock at Weaver’s Landing Marina, an abandoned bird’s nest tucked into the sign at Barker’s Hardware, and other great shots. Melinda had graciously allowed them to hang a photograph from each teen on the sides of her booth along with a poster made by one of the kids explaining about the assignment and the class. She was sure the kids and their parents would be proud to see the pictures exhibited for all to see.
“So, Jo and Alex aren’t coming for the festival?” Tierney asked Jenny as she stretched into down dog on the sidewalk, her very pregnant belly tight as a drum in a snug tunic and leggings. Tierney and Brendon Flaherty were expecting their third child in May, yet she still taught yoga every Tuesday and Thursday, created exquisite jewelry that she sold in shops all up and down the river, and probably would have been crop dusting in her little Cessna if it had been the season. She’d quit her job as an EMT after their second daughter, Bridget, was born a couple of years ago, although she still volunteered when needed. Bren and Tee were enthusiastic parents and teased constantly about increasing the population of River’s Edge every year since their marriage.
Jenny made a sad face. “No, Alex is giving a talk at a conference in Munich, and Jo is going along since she’s never been to Europe. Afterward, they’re going to Paris and Lisbon and Spain, I think. She’s so excited.”
“Don’t blame her. Weren’t they in England fairly recently?” Tierney rolled her shoulders as Jenny and Jazz recounted their triplet’s latest travels.
Watching Tee move so gracefully despite the cumbersome burden she carried, Anna touched her own flat belly. She’d truly considered becoming a mother when she and Daniel were living in Italy, and that had been in a moment of bored frustration, not a real desire to be a mom. God, what if she’d succumbed to that urge all those years ago? Daniel would’ve insisted they get married, and given his record, it probably wouldn’t have lasted. She’d have been a single mother in a country that wouldn’t be home. She’d thought about it again when they were reunited last summer… The universe had protected her again because he was gone, and she didn’t have to face being a single mom, staring forty in the face. She shuddered and her teeth caught her lower lip as Tee arched her back and groaned before stroking her stomach.
“Okay, little one, settle down. You’ve got another couple of weeks in there.” She looked up, beautiful and so serene.
Anna’s heart ached a little, and suddenly an image of a baby with toast-brown hair and her blue eyes popped into her head. She blinked, but the picture remained…and began to fill in with her sitting in a chair cuddling the baby and Sawyer standing next to her, his lips pressed against her hair, and Trixie, prancing at her feet. It was so vivid, she swayed there on the stone wall and closed her eyes.
“You okay?” Harley, who ran the local nursery school, touched her shoulder. “You’ve been kinda quiet tonight.”
“I’m okay.”
“You falling in love?” Harley asked the question quietly, beneath the chatter of the others.
Anna stopped the automatic denial that rose to her lips. Am I? Her heart stuttered as Sawyer’s visage appeared again in her head. His kind brown eyes, his tender expression as he reached for her, the single dimple that appeared when the corners of his mouth curved up, his kisses that sent pangs and zings of heat through her. Whatever it was, it was completely different from the emotional chaos of being with Daniel. Sawyer was solid. Daniel had been quicksand. She was happy when she was with Sawyer. Being with Daniel had been bedlam and frustration.
Sawyer felt… right .
“Never mind.” Harley smiled. “I can see it in your face. He seems like a good man, Anna. Everyone is saying how much they like him already. He fits into town life like a missing puzzle piece.”
“But is he what’s missing from my life?” Anna raked her fingers through her hair and redid her ponytail. “I didn’t think there was anything missing… but now, there’s Sawyer and Trixie, and I can’t imagine my life without either of them and, dammit, I’m going to have to give her up when she’s adopted and I can’t stand the thought of losing her or disappointing him if I do let her go to a new home, but I don’t have time for a dog and oh, Harles… I don’t know what to do.” It all came out in one huge breath, and Anna clutched her chest where it ached.
“Seems like you’ve already figured out the puppy thing,” Harley soothed. “Maddie said you’ve been wearing Trixie in a sling at work, the same way I do Katie on the days I take her to school with me.”
Anna chuckled “Sawyer got me the sling. It was a stroke of genius. She sleeps right against me and somehow, it’s made her more content in her crate, too. Go figure.”
“That tracks.” Harley nodded. “Katie loves being in the sling, whether it’s me or Beck carrying her, but she does fine going down in her crib for naptime or bedtime.”
“You think it’s about feeling safe?”
“And loved.” Harley put one arm around Anna’s shoulders. “Honey, you’re already in love with Trixie. Why don’t you just go ahead and adopt her yourself? And as far as that hunky veterinarian is concerned, important as they are, sometimes you can’t always trust the fireworks and breathless passion. Sometimes you have to trust that little voice inside you that says, this is right . This is good. ”
Anna rose and gave Harley a quick hug. “Thanks, Harles.”
Harley held on for a few extra seconds, then cupped Anna’s cheek. “You, me, Meg—we almost-forty gals gotta stick together.” She lifted her chin toward the other women, still chattering and laughing. “The kids—what do they know?”
Anna grinned. “Well, every damn one of them is looking pretty happy and in love to me. I’m the odd one out. Sometimes I feel like the last single woman in River’s Edge.”
“You’re not—look at Melinda.” She jerked a thumb in the direction of Holly Flaherty’s lovely mom. Then she snapped her fingers. “Hey, and the Dykemans—Vanessa’s devoted every moment to that orchard and since they bought the party barn and started the new cidery, she hasn’t had a moment to find her HEA. And poor Bethie.” She shook her head. “Tim said she’s getting divorced.”
An arrow of shock shot through Anna. She’d just seen Beth at Deke’s, and she hadn’t said a thing. “ Beth Dykeman’s getting a divorce? Holy hell. Is nothing sacred anymore?”
Harley’s expression saddened. “Poor Bethie. I’m glad she’s home for good, though. We’re just going to have to be there for her best way we can.”
“Hey, Anna,” Holly and Aidan’s teenaged son, Mateo, called to her from down the River Walk. He was headed toward them with a stranger hot on his heels. “This guy is looking for you.”
Anna rose, eyeing the man in the dim pool of light—she’d seen him before recently. But where?
“You Annabelle Walker?” He came closer, his eyes narrowing beneath the brim of his ball cap.
Black hair peeked out from under the hat and his face, partially hidden by the shadows, was handsome in a bad-boy kind of way. He was medium height and wiry, like a weasel, had a neck tattoo visible under the collar of his black T-shirt, and wore jeans and a leather jacket that had seen better days.
All of Anna’s instincts were on alert. “Who wants to know?” Where have I seen him before?
“Raif Cutler. The girl up at the pet store said I might find you here.” The guy’s smile didn’t seem to reach his eyes.
“Okay.” Curious, Anna stayed seated on the wall. “Why are looking for me? What can I do for you?”
“You can give me back my dog.”