Something Blue, page 15
“What do you mean?”
“I’m trying to be a gentleman. In control. A proper host. But I’ve got to say, I don’t feel proper at all right now.”
Beth dipped her face into his neck. “That’s okay. I don’t either.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her.
She curled her arms in against him and figured she could stay there forever. In his arms, held safe and steady against him. Someone as strong-willed and headstrong as her, even more so. Someone who could be a rock, if that’s what he wanted. And if she let him.
The realization that Sawyer was exactly the kind of man she’d always imagined, but didn’t believe existed, struck her.
Beth stiffened, straightening up, trying not to panic.
When she looked up, she found Sawyer smiling down, the same as before. Handsome, surprisingly charming and complex, considerate and capable.
The reassurance calmed her. She remembered to breathe.
Then Sawyer’s hat fell onto her face.
“Clyde!” Sawyer laughed and turned, still holding her. He lurched forward but held on. “Clyde! Fine. Jeez, fella.”
Beth lifted his hat away to find him chuckling as he was bumped and nudged by his horse.
Sawyer chuckled as he spoke. “Think he wants something?”
Beth began to giggle at the sight. “I’d say so.”
“You thirsty, boy?”
Clyde neighed and raised his head.
“Okay, okay. Let’s bring the horses over here for a drink. Someone is feeling bossy.”
They broke away, still laughing at Clyde’s antics. They took the horses down to the water and they drank of the cool brook.
“Seems Clyde is the worst wingman ever,” Sawyer teased. “Thanks for nothing, buddy.”
Beth smiled and patted his horse. “Ah, it’s okay. The guy’s got needs.”
Sawyer took Clyde’s reins as he finished drinking and led him to a grassy area by the creek. “Next time we come out here we’ll have to have a picnic,” he said. “Stay longer. Stay all day if you want.”
Another date, spending all day with Sawyer, sounded ideal.
“I could probably get away in a few days.” She didn’t really have that kind of time, but she found she was willing to make the time, if it meant spending the day with Sawyer. “Once I know Aurora has all she needs and Cece is getting around better, I could probably break away.”
“How is Cece doing?” Sawyer passed her a bottled water from his saddlebag.
Beth took the water and measured her response. “She’s getting around pretty good, now that she’s accepted the fact she needs the crutches, but she’s in pain. She refused to take the pain meds after a day, so she’s just powering through it. But she’s okay. For the most part.”
Sawyer raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on her careful tone. “You sure?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I just…I worry.”
“I know, but she’s going to be fine. And changes at this stage add to the production costs, are time-consuming and, most important, might increase the likelihood of other errors appearing when she’s up and at ’em again, she ought to come out here and hike sometime. We’ve got a lot of great trails that are good for hiking as much as riding.”
“I wish she’d stop going off alone to hike at all.” The truth was out of her mouth before she could stop it.
Sawyer studied her. “If you’re worried for her to go alone, go with her.”
“I can’t. She goes off for hours and I don’t have that kind of time.”
“We’ll be out here for hours today.”
“Which causes me some deal of anxiety, but I’ll work late tonight to make up for it and it’s why I rarely do this.”
Sawyer’s face tensed. “Rarely? That can’t be good.”
“Cece doesn’t want me with her anyway. Going on her hikes is her thing. Her getaway and mental health break.”
He reached for Beth, rubbing her arm. “You know the other day was just a freak accident, right? You said she hikes all the time and she said that’s her first accident.”
“In a while, yes. But it’s not her first.”
He made a thoughtful noise before repeating, “She’s going to be okay.”
“I know, but I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her.”
“You say that like it’d be your fault.”
“Because I’m supposed to keep her safe.”
“Why is that all on you?”
“Because it always has been,” she snapped, and immediately turned away.
She couldn’t explain where the emotion came from, the vehemence. The built-up frustration and pressure.
“Hey. Hey, c’mere.” Sawyer turned her toward him, plucking the water bottle from her hand to pull her closer. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”
“Nothing. It’s stupid.” She looked away, cursing the burning in her eyes and lump in her throat, swallowing it all down.
“No, it’s not. I don’t know what it is, but I promise you, if you’re feeling it, it isn’t stupid.” He rubbed her arms again before taking a finger to tilt her face back to his. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
She swallowed again and took a steadying breath. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I worry. I am worried. I can’t help it. It’s how I’m made. She could’ve gotten seriously hurt, Sawyer. She still could get badly hurt and there’s nothing I can do. She could’ve hit her head, still be in the hospital, or worse, and all I could do was get the call and deal with the aftermath. I’m responsible for her safety, her health, her happiness, but I can’t do anything to stop stuff like that fall.”
Sawyer stopped rubbing and held her arms. “But why are you responsible? Cece is a grown woman.”
“Same reason you feel responsible for Garrett,” she bit off.
“Whoa, whoa. I’m not responsible for Garrett’s safety or health—that’s on him. I want him to be happy and I’ll do anything to help, but it’s not all on me. You’re telling me you feel solely responsible for your sister’s safety and I’m trying to understand why.”
Beth let her head fall back. “Because that’s the way it’s always been.” She shook her head, trying to shake off the past, but the past wouldn’t budge.
“See, our dad left when we were kids. He couldn’t just leave, though. He got into some trouble with the wrong kind of people.”
“I remember my uncle talking about that. People in town were worried about your mom and all of you.”
“Exactly. And when he left, he took a bunch of money from the orchard. Luckily, his bookies never bothered us. Unluckily, my dad was the one who ran stuff at the orchard. My mom did her best, but she struggled. It was all she could do to keep the place from going under. She couldn’t do it all, so she told me it was my responsibility to help with my sisters.”
Sawyer nodded.
“I didn’t mind helping. I love them, but I didn’t understand the level of responsibility. One day, Cece got into a yellow-jacket nest that was in an old tree stump. She got stung five or six times. I told her not to go over there, but she had to learn the hard way. My mother really let me have it that night. I was supposed to be watching her. She said she couldn’t do it all and keep a roof over our heads and keep an eye on us. I had to help, like I promised I would. Especially with Cece.”
“Why especially with Cece?”
Beth took a deep breath. “Because Cece was premature and there were…complications. The cord was around her neck and cut off some oxygen for a bit. The doctor said she was fine, and with all my parents had going on, they didn’t notice anything for a while. She was healthy and happy, but when she started crawling and toddling around, we noticed something was up with her foot and the way she walked.”
Sawyer made a noise of sympathy.
“Later, another doctor said it was a very mild case of cerebral palsy. My dad wanted to sue the hospital, but my mom refused to hear that it was even true. She treated it like a curse or a bad word. She took Cece to therapy. We couldn’t afford much, but she insisted Cece had to be normal.” Beth used air quotes. “She had to do all these exercises the therapist said would build strength and balance. Mom insisted Cece practice every day. She didn’t have time to help with that so—”
“You had to become Cece’s therapist.”
“Yeah.”
“How old were you?”
“I don’t know, eight or nine? When we started. And it went all the way up to when she was old enough to tell me to leave her alone and shut her bedroom door in my face.”
“So the other night, when you tried to help her…”
“It’s always best if Aurora can be involved in helping, if needed, and not just me taking care of Cece. Or if you’re involved helping out, turns out. She’s a lot more receptive to anyone’s help but mine. And I get it! I do. But sometimes I can’t stop myself. It’s an old habit and she resents it.”
Sawyer pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her.
“You didn’t do anything wrong by trying to help. And neither did Cece.” He stroked her hair, comforting her. “It wasn’t fair to either of you, what you went through as kids. Setting up that kind of relationship between sisters? Sounds like a recipe for disaster.” He shook his head. “I had to keep an eye on Garrett growing up, but nothing like that. You weren’t able to just be kids and sisters.”
“Sometimes we could. We made do and just played, when we had time. Aurora was always a kind of buffer, though. I hate to think what it would’ve been like if it’d only been me and Cece. How would we have switched in and out of those roles? Turned it off and on?”
“Aurora probably made a good buffer and distraction.”
Despite the heaviness of the conversation, Beth smiled. “She was very good at being a distraction. At one point, when Cece was still doing some physical therapy, I was supposed to be making her practice some strength exercises that included—I don’t know—calf raises and walking stairs. In the middle of exercising, when Cece was getting really fed up with me and practicing and all of it, here comes Aurora. She starts walking the stairs with us, but she’d taken some of my mother’s fanciest high-heeled boots. The tall kind. On Aurora, they looked like go-go boots or something. Anyway, she had on old shorts and dirty old playclothes, but these shiny boots she could barely balance in. She’s lucky she didn’t break her neck, but we laughed and tried to keep quiet, which only made us laugh harder.”
Sawyer chuckled with her at the memory.
“And it worked. It made the whole thing fun, and kept us from being upset with each other. Cece being mad at me for making her practice and me resenting that I had to be the one to force her.”
“I’m glad she was there to be a cutup.”
“Me too. And I’m sure she knew that rested on her shoulders—to put us back into a playful, family mode.” To this day, Aurora deflected or circumvented situations by cracking jokes or being the smart aleck who didn’t care, even when she cared a lot.
“Was it tough for you and Cece when Aurora moved to LA?”
“Honestly? Yeah. Not only did we miss our sister, but it was like we were off balance with just two of us. We’re okay most of the time now, as adults, but when something like her falling happens, we’re definitely better with all three of us here.”
Beth sighed, managing to smile. She felt…lighter? Like pounds of pressure had eased off her shoulders.
She’d never told anyone about any of the stuff with her and Cece. Not even Shelby. Because Shelby was friends with all the sisters, it had sort of felt like a betrayal to do so.
Sawyer kissed her temple. “You guys are very lucky to have come through your childhood and that dynamic, to still be sisters and friends. It could’ve gone the other way.”
“I know.”
He brushed her hair back, stroking the length of it. “I’m glad you talked to me about this. I could tell something was weighing on you, and it’s okay to unload. Especially with me. I get it. And I’m here.”
Beth closed her eyes, leaned into his touch, and let go of her guilt.
With Sawyer, opening up about all of the stuff from the past didn’t feel like betraying her sisters. It felt like…healing.
She could share with him and he’d listen, help her bear that weight, and anything they talked about would end there. He’d never go tell someone else her business or bring it up to hurt her or use against her. He wouldn’t judge her for any of it.
Beth had always kept her own counsel. Held it in and dealt with her problems alone.
That was what family leaders did.
But sharing with Sawyer felt…good. Maybe even great.
And normally, she’d feel the weight of guilt for playing hooky all day. Enjoying some personal time in the middle of planning a wedding would’ve caused her so much anxiety she’d stay up all night to make up the work. Her head would ache from the responsibility.
But right now? There was no guilt. No anxiety. No ache.
She leaned into Sawyer’s arms, let him support her, and kissed him. Not the heated, needy kiss from before, but something gentler. Warmer and content.
Theirs was a generous, giving kiss.
The kind of kiss that came when your soul understood the other, and your heart was at ease.
Chapter 15
Beth smiled as she finished texting and set her phone down.
Across from her, Cece worked on her laptop, her leg elevated in a chair beside her. She glanced up. “Another text from Sawyer?”
“How can you tell?”
“You make oogly eyes when you text with him. Totally gives it away.”
“I don’t make oogly eyes.”
Cece eased the top of her laptop down just enough to do a dramatic interpretation of mooning over something imaginary, complete with eyelash batting and face fanning.
Beth laughed at the ridiculous display. “Okay, I may be a little oogly-eyed, but I know I don’t do all that.”
“Maybe not that bad, but close.”
She tossed a wadded-up piece of paper at Cece.
“Seriously, though, I think it’s nice. It’s good to see you happy.”
Beth was definitely happy. It’d been a week since their horseback riding date. They’d texted and chatted every day since, and a few days ago he’d asked her out on a one hundred percent legitimate lunch date to the new southern bistro in town.
Turned out both of them had a guilty love of pimento cheese, so when the waitress brought out little pimento cheese sandwiches as an appetizer, they’d not only demolished the entire plate, but ordered a second.
They’d taken a long walk downtown after, to walk off the ’ninner cheese, as her sisters liked to call it, and ended up swinging in the little park. He’d kissed her goodbye at her car and she’d been worthless all afternoon, her mind constantly drifting from Shelby’s seating chart to Sawyer’s lips.
“You’re oogly-eyed again, sis.” Cece threw the paper back at her.
To top off a great week, she and Cece had been fine all week. Under the circumstances, she was particularly grateful.
Over the years, they were rarely if ever openly mad at each other. Any open expression of anger was always between Beth and Aurora.
In contrast, whenever Beth and Cece were out of sorts, they got quiet with each other. Cece hated confrontation and Beth hated who she became when in a confrontation. So they walked around not talking, knowing everything wasn’t okay but never addressing it, until Beth cracked a few days later. By then, time had passed and they usually moved forward without event.
Her rare arguments with Aurora, on the other hand, always included confrontation, yelling, Aurora slamming a door or two and banging around the kitchen.
But this week, she and Cece had gotten along just fine. A stark contrast to any other time Cece was hurt or in need. Plus, she was getting around quickly on her crutches, no more pain meds, and they’d reached a compromise that, at least for the first few weeks once back to hiking, she’d hike with a partner.
Maybe it was the talk with Sawyer that made the difference. She was more aware of her actions and her reactions to Cece, but also gave herself the grace to want to help her little sister and not feel guilty about it.
“Do you two want any more coffee or a snack before we get started?” Aurora popped her head in to ask. “I have some leftover pastry from the guest breakfast this morning.”
Cece sat up a little straighter. “What kind of pastry?”
“A strawberry cream cheese strudel.”
“Yes!” Beth and Cece answered together.
Aurora brought them a piece of strudel and a carafe of coffee for their meeting. “We’ll need to walk later because we also have a cake testing with Shelby and Garrett today.”
“We don’t have to eat the cake, though,” Beth pointed out. “It’s the bride and groom’s job to taste and decide.”
“Yeah, but it’s Shelby. You know we’re going to eat the cake.”
This was true.
They all got going on the details of Shelby’s wedding. The sugar rush from the strudel helped, and they powered through finalizing the seating chart, confirming the band and their set lists, finishing orders with all of the food vendors for the menu, and ordering the last of the flowers for the reception.
By the time Shelby and Garrett showed up for their cake tastings, Beth had checked off everything on her list that she’d wanted to accomplish that day. There was no better feeling in the world than a completed to-do list.
Beth was showing Shelby into the dining room when her phone buzzed with a text message.
It was from Sawyer, letting her know he’d gotten reservations that evening for the patio at Sunset Street Bistro. She imagined the romantic meal with him, the stroll downtown before and after, him kissing her near the town square.
Correction. There was a better feeling in the world than a finished to-do list.
“What are you smiling about?” Shelby nudged her as they sat down at one of the larger tables in the dining room.
Beth glanced up to find that Garrett was still in the hallway, distracted by talking with Aurora. “I’m having an early dinner with Sawyer tonight,” she confessed.
