Chapter 19

Sawyer threw the duffle bag of bedding onto the pile, then covered it all up with a tarp, secured it with some rope, then stood back. "That ought to keep any curious creatures out," he said, then turned to where Piper was packing her saddle bag. "I wish we could stay longer. Two days wasn't enough."

"Me too," she said, then walked over to him and slipped into his arms. "But we've got years and years to share the magic of this cave, Sawyer, even if it's only a few stolen days at a time."

He gave her a big kiss, "You're right. I'm just not ready to share you with the world yet," he said. "Call me selfish."

She laughed, "Well, Mr. Selfish, you still have the ride home to be alone with me," she said. "But we have a ranch to run in case you've forgotten."

"And a little girl who is probably missing both of us," he said. "Although now she has two doting grandmothers, she might not have even noticed that we're gone."

"Then we'd better get home before they spoil her rotten," she said, laughing. "Reese already thinks she's a princess, but I guess she kind of is if you think about it."

A frown appeared on Piper's face, "What's wrong?" he asked. "You suddenly look upset."

Piper looked up at him, "What if I'm a terrible mother?" she asked. "I didn't have the greatest role model. What if I'm the evil stepmother in the story or something?"

"Hey, slow down, you're going to be a great mother, Piper," he said, pulling her to his chest. "You're one of the kindest and caring people that I know. Youre intelligent, and you can think on your feet. Our kids will grow up with the best mother in the world."

She let out a long sigh, "Thanks, Sawyer, I feel better," she said. "I think I just got scared for a second. Wait, what do you mean, kids?"

"Well, we don't want Reese to grow up an only child, she really would be spoiled," he said, taking her hand and leading her out of the cave to where the horses were tied to a tree. "She should have brothers and sisters."

"You keep using these plurals," she said, putting her hands on her hips and looking up at him. "I'm not a baby machine, Sawyer Weston."

He leaned down and kissed her cheek, "I know, sweetheart," he said. "I never thought that for a second, I think two more of each should do the trick. Maybe we'll get lucky and have twins. It runs in my family, you know."

"Sawyer, this isn't funny, four kids are a lot," she said, glaring at him. "Maybe we should have talked about this first."

"We'll hire a nanny," he said, grabbing her by the hips and lifting her up into the saddle, unable to hold back a smile. "And if we don't have four, I figure we'll have a lot of fun trying."

"You're joking," Piper said with a groan. "I thought you were serious, not that I don't want kids, I'd definitely love to have some, but four……."

"We'll have as many as you want," he said. "But I was serious about that twins thing. There are three sets on my dad's side of the family, so don't tell me that I never warned you."

Piper laughed and gave Buttercup a soft click in the flanks, "I guess we'll just have to see what fate has in store for us," she said, shaking her head. "Come on, let's go home."

He laughed and jumped up in the saddle, "That's music to my ears," he said, giving Prince a nudge with his heels.

Helen got up from the bed, staggered over to the table by the window, and leaned against it, looking out the window at the filthy parking lot. Then, she grabbed the bottle on the table and tipped what was left into her glass. Disappointed when only a few drops of the precious amber liquid dribbled out, she set the bottle back down on the table with a thud and looked desperately around the dingy hotel room. Trying to remember where she'd put her last bottle of scotch, she began tearing the room apart, take-out boxes crashed to the floor, piles of bottles tumbled off the table, but there was nothing except empties everywhere she looked.

Desperate for another drink to dull the pain of Sawyer's treachery, she staggered to the bathroom, looked at herself in the mirror, crying out with shock, then quickly tried to put herself back together. She wasn't sure how long she'd been wearing the clothes she was in, or how many days she'd lost this time, but the hunger for alcohol told her that it had been too long since her last drink. Discarding the dirty clothes on the bathroom floor, she threw on the first thing she found in the suitcase, slipped on a pair of heels, grabbed her purse, and left her hotel room.

She glanced briefly at her car, then discarded the idea of driving. The liquor store was only a few blocks away, better safe than sorry. Tottering down the street, she ignored the looks she got, keeping her chin up. She was the victim and if the stupid people of this town couldn't see it, that was their problem. Almost to the liquor store, she could taste the scotch going down her throat, then noticed that she was right in front of a bar, and stopped to look up at the sign.

Thinking it might be nice to have some company, she pushed open the door and went inside, then stood in the doorway, letting her eyes adjust. She found her way over to the bar and sank down onto a stool, "I'll have a scotch and water," she said, then laughed. "Actually, skip the water and make it a double."

When her drink appeared in front of her a second later, she downed half of it, set the glass down with a sigh. "Keep those coming, I need to drown my sorrows," she said to the bartender. "My creep of a husband divorced me and then only a few days later married the woman who worked for us in the barn. They took my baby away from me, and all I got was a hundred thousand dollars. The ranch the creep owns is worth ten times that much. I should have gotten rid of that little witch when I had the chance."

"That'll be three-fifty," the bartender said, not a scrap of sympathy on his face. "We don't run tabs around here, so you'll have to pay now."

She fumbled in her purse, then slapped down a hundred-dollar bill, "Is that enough for you?" she demanded. "That should buy enough drinks to keep you off my back."

The bartender just shrugged, slipped the money off the bar, and walked away. She wanted to scream at him, wanted to break things, but she finished her drink instead. Just as she set her glass down on the bar, a man slid onto the stool next to her, "I know that it's rude to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help overhearing what you said to the bartender," the man said. "I'm sorry that you're having such a bad day. I've been there, divorce sucks. If you need a shoulder to cry on, I'd be happy to lend you mine."

She looked over at him, pleased to see that he was young and very handsome, "Oh, how kind of you," she said, smiling at him. "It's all the little bitch's fault, she came between us. If it wasn't for her, everything would have been fine."

The man sensed an opportunity, and never one to walk away from an easy score, scooted a little closer to Helen. "I might just have the answer to your problem," he said. "I just happen to specialize in making difficult people disappear. For a small fee, I could get rid of this woman for you."

***Piper***

"I think we've got everything we need," Piper said, swinging up onto Buttercup. "I hate mending fences, it's definitely at the bottom of my list."

Joe laughed, "I don't know why you didn't make one of the other guys do this," he said, swinging up onto his horse. "It's not like you have to."

"We all share the work around here, even me," she said, giving Buttercup a nudge. "Not that I wouldn't love to delegate the crappy stuff to someone else."

She spotted Sawyer in the practice ring working with one of the yearlings he'd bought when he got her Buttercup and waved to him. He started for the fence, so she turned to Joe, "You go on ahead," she said. "I'll catch up with you."

He just shook his head, "Newlyweds," he said. "See you up there."

Nudging Buttercup over to the railing, she waited for Sawyer, who climbed up and gave her a kiss. "I'm headed for the upper pasture with Joe. We're going to get the fence that came down this spring fixed," she said. "It should only take a couple of hours, but if we have enough time, I might take a quick ride around the whole thing and make sure it doesn't need any other work done before winter."

"I'm going to work with Whinny for a little longer," he said. "Do you want me to come up and help when I'm finished?"

She shook her head, "No, Joe and I will be fine," she said. "But if you've got time, could you check on that mare the boys brought home yesterday? I don't like the look of the cut on her leg, we might need to call the vet."

"I saw it this morning," Sawyer said. "I called Dr. Peters, and he'll be out later this afternoon."

She leaned over and gave him a kiss, "You're a good rancher," she said. "And an even better husband."

"I love you, Piper," he said. "Be safe up there."

"I will," she said. "I love you too."

Piper snipped the piece of barbed wire, then twisted the ends and secured it in place, stepped back to double check her work, then let out a long sigh. "This is the hottest summer I remember," she said, pulling off her hand and wiping the sweat from her forehead. "I hope that last section is as easy as the rest have been."

"Oh, no, now you've gone and jinxed us," Joe said, loading the tools back up onto his horse. "I was hoping to be done with this before dinner."

"Very funny," she said, jumping back on Buttercup. "We'll be done in half an hour, you'll see."

When they rode up to the last broken section of the fence, she saw immediately how wrong she'd been, and looked over at Joe. "Oh, come on, this isn't because of what I just said," she defended herself. "It was already like this when I said that."

Joe just gave her a dirty look, "One of us is going to have to go back down and get a couple of new posts. Both of those are broken in half," he said. "You want to flip for it?"

"No, that's okay, you can go," she said. "I'll stay here and start digging the old ones out."

"Piper, I was just teasing you, I know this wasn't your fault," Joe said. "I'll stay here and do the digging; you go on back."

"I wasn't volunteering because I feel bad, but thanks," she said. "Honestly, I don't mind staying here, I need a good workout. You go on."

"Are you sure?" Joe asked. "It doesn't seem right to leave the boss digging holes while I ride around."

"You're going to be dragging a couple of hundred-pound fence posts back with you," she said. "I'd hardly call that just riding around, now go, before I change my mind."

Piper watched him ride away, relieved to be alone for a few minutes. She didn't really need a workout, she needed some solitude, something she rarely got anymore. Not that she wasn't happy, her life had turned out just the way she'd always dreamed, but it was taking some time to adjust to being with people all the time. It seemed like there was always someone around, either looking for her attention or wanting to give her some, it was all so much different than the lonely life she used to live in her little cabin.

After taking a long drink from her water bottle, she grabbed a shovel and began to dig one of the broken posts out, letting her mind wander where it would. When it was finally loose enough, she yanked it out of the ground, then held it up in triumph, but only a second later, there was a loud bang and the wood exploded in her hands. She stood frozen for a second, then dropped the two pieces of wood, and scanned the woods around the pasture, but saw nothing.

The second and third shots buried themselves in the dirt at her feet, sending up two little puffs of dust, "Shit," she cursed, grabbing Buttercup's reins. "Someone is shooting at us."

Pulling Buttercup into the trees, she stood shaking for a second, unable to believe that the shots were for her, but when another one ricocheted off the trunk of the tree above her head, she couldn't deny it. Taking a deep breath, sure that her father was behind the attack, she looked around, forcing herself to think. She couldn't stay where she was, she had to get away. Buttercup snorted, and she realized the first thing she had to do was send the horse home.

"I'm sorry to do this to you girl, but you're going to give me away," she said, nuzzling her for a second before stepping back. "Tell Sawyer that I'm in trouble again when you get back to the barn."

She gave the horse a sharp slap on the flanks. Buttercup reared up and then took off through the trees at a gallop, and she hoped that the distraction would work. Slipping further into the trees, she tried to stick to the shadows as she made her way deeper into the forest, hoping that she wasn't being followed. But only a few minutes later, a voice rose above the sounds of the forest, reaching her much too soon, and she knew the shooter was right behind her.

"I haven't had this much fun in a long time," a man yelled. "Keep running sweetheart. That will make it so much more fun when I catch you."

His words triggered something in her brain, memories of another man who'd said the same thing to her, panic and fear began to race through her, but she took a deep breath. She wasn't helpless here, these were her mountains, this was her ranch, she knew the land like the back of her hand. She wasn't going to run and cower; she was going to fight back.