30. Olivia

Olivia stepped into the elevator in a fog. The appointment went well. She'd kept it together in the office, and she hadn't gotten the worst news imaginable.

They. The news belonged to Dawson too, not just herself. His future was twisted up in hers for as long as he allowed it.

What a tangled mess it was. They were finally moving forward with a relationship, and her baggage was stepping into the room and calling the shots. Stripping them of options they hadn't had the chance to consider yet.

Dawson entered the elevator behind her and pressed the button for the second floor. Soon, they'd be out in the real world again, and this building and its soul-crushing news would be their souvenir–something to carry around and remember their time here.

Time was a fickle thing measured in seconds and minutes, but it was more of a bartering tool. You get what you put in, right?

Wrong. She worked hard, loved others, and gave of herself as much as possible. What was she getting in return?

Stop.She pressed her eyes closed, shutting out the anger and doubts. It was wrong to think things like that.

Dawson wrapped his arms around her before the elevator doors closed. She let the rough planes of his uniform press against her face and body as she embraced him.

"It was good news," Dawson reminded her.

She disagreed, but they had enough problems gunning for them right now. They didn't need her negativity piled on top.

He rubbed a steadying hand up and down her back as the elevator took them farther away from the office. The doors opened on the second floor, revealing the concrete parking deck.

Dawson left one arm draped behind her as he guided her toward his truck. The stale air in the parking deck squeezed her lungs into the stone prison. A faint light shone through the openings in the outer walls, but the shadows lay claim to more than half the vehicles.

The barriers were closing in, slowing her steps and stealing her air. Or was it just the smell of oil and metal clogging her airways that had her gasping for breath.

"Liv?" Dawson's question was soft and far away, like a whisper on the wind.

"Liv, you okay?" he asked again.

He stopped and curled his arm in, dragging her back to his chest.

"I'm fine. I just need air."

She stayed pressed to his side as he led them into the open-air part of the level where they'd parked. His red truck was like a waving finish-line flag in the bright midday sun.

Dawson opened the passenger side door for her, and she slid into the cab. Seconds later, he was in his seat beside her, leaning over the console between them.

"What do you need?"

Olivia sucked in deep pulls of air. "I'm okay. Just a little shaky."

Dawson wrapped her hand in both of his and bowed his head over them. "Father, thank You for the doctor's patience as she took the time to study Olivia's condition and give us sound advice. I pray now that You would give us understanding as we go forward. Also, Olivia needs peace. I do too, but Lord, we need the constant reminder that You are here with us every step of the way. You are the Great Physician, and we know healing and mercy comes from You. Help us to keep our focus always on You. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen."

He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and looked up at her. His soft brown eyes held an assurance she lacked but desperately wanted.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Always. You're always in my prayers. And trust me, I talk to the Boss a lot."

The confidence in his voice steeled her spine. His faith was breathing new life into her, reminding her of all the things she'd let fall to the side in her internal spiral.

He released her hand to start the truck and back out of the parking spot. Once they were on the road back toward Blackwater, he claimed her hand again.

They had gotten good news. At least, as good as they could have hoped for. Her doctor was adamant that a hysterectomy was premature at this point. Her endometriosis was moderate and usually manageable, and Dr. Barnes was quick to assure them that kids were still a possibility at this point.

Her doctor's prayer had calmed some of the storm in her heart. She couldn't imagine battling through this journey with a doctor who thought their medical miracles happened at their own hands.

They didn't talk much on the way back. Dawson was probably going through the same emotional overload as her, and she'd almost drifted off to sleep when they passed the Welcome to Blackwater sign.

"Can we go to the farm? I need my chickies."

"Anything for you, my queen."

A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of her dad's house. His truck was gone, and he was probably helping out at Blackwater Ranch. Her dad had been spending more and more time with the Hardings since her mom died.

She couldn't blame him. She'd sought out people everywhere after her mom passed. Being alone left her too raw and susceptible to the memories.

Dawson rounded the truck as she stepped out onto the land she'd grown up on. The sun was sinking to the west, setting the tops of the trees on fire with its orange glow. Her childhood home stood steadfast and comforting like an old friend, but they walked past it with their hands linked.

Their steps weren't in sync, and she watched them with rapt attention as Dawson's longer stride beckoned her to move quicker.

Don't overthink it. You may not walk the same way, but that doesn't mean you aren't in this together.

Even her silly attempts to distract her mind were failing–crumbling as they walked in silence that threatened to crush her.

When they reached Cluckingham Palace, Olivia went straight to the hideous rusted pink chair by the chicnic table. Dawson had picked it up at a garage sale five years ago, and she couldn't bring herself to throw it out.

She wanted things to hang on to while her hope was crumbling. Her dreams for the future were falling through the gaps in her fingers like dry sand.

Dawson squatted in front of her, demanding her attention. He still wore his uniform, but the tenderness in his eyes was a stark contrast to the stiffness of the outfit.

His hands slid up the outside of her thighs and wound around her where he threaded his fingers together at the small of her back. "We got good news today, Liv."

Olivia scoffed. "Good news?"

"The surgery is minimally invasive, and the recovery time is short. Plus, you won't be in as much pain after. Yeah, sounds like great news to me."

Her shoulders sank. How could he be optimistic all the time? It was exhausting.

"Baby, I'm here for you. I will wait on you hand and foot until you're back to one hundred percent. You're not doing any of this alone."

He stood to press a kiss to her forehead before returning to his crouch before her. His smile had her own cheeks lifting. This man had the whole town wrapped around his finger. He was the best friend anyone could ask for, he was loyal and dependable, he was too handsome for his own good, and he was sitting before her promising better days were ahead of them.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was just so scared of how you'd look at me."

"I don't know what you mean. This doesn't make me look at you differently."

"It should." Her breaths were coming quicker now, racing against her heartbeats. "You need to decide if you want this baggage."

"You are not baggage. You are my queen. I'll gladly sit at your feet for the rest of my life. Trust me to help carry your burdens, Liv. I don't know why this would change my feelings for you."

She swiped at her eyes and stared at her folded hands in her lap. "I've kind of been a drama queen about it."

Dawson laughed. "That's not the kind of queen I mean."

"It's true. Do you remember the school nurse when we were in high school?"

Dawson squinted one eye. "Maybe? Why?"

"I had to go to her office quite a few times in high school. This was before I had the surgery the first time or even had a diagnosis. At least once a month, I would hide out in the bathroom until a teacher would send someone to check on me. Then I'd show up in Nurse Joy's office and she'd give me the lecture about taking advantage of her time and send me back to class."

Dawson's jaw set tight as he stared at her. Man, she hated being thought of as a slacker who just wanted to get out of doing schoolwork. She loved school and always did well.

"So I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want the attention. I wanted to be invisible and blend in like everyone else. I didn't want people to think I was making excuses."

"Liv, it's killing me to know you were in pain and suffered alone. Please tell me you told your mom at least."

"I did. Finally. She took me to the doctor where they found out what was causing the pain. Mom was my biggest supporter. She was there for me and helped me through everything, and she didn't treat me like a helpless baby."

"I loved your mom. I don't think I've said that enough."

Olivia brushed a hand under her nose. "You tell me that a lot."

"Good. She was an amazing woman, and you're so much like her. You're a rockstar, Liv. Until a few weeks ago, I had no idea you'd been suffering in silence, and that's saying something since we're always together and you never let on that you were in pain."

"I'm sorry. I just didn't want to live in a snow globe where everyone could watch me get shaken up and dumped on."

Dawson's strong hands spread over the small of her back, supporting her and comforting her the way only his presence could.

"I get it. You like your privacy. I can protect that."

With his words, the dam holding back her tears crumbled. A sob snuck out before she could clamp her hand over her mouth.

She hated crying. Hated the sting in her throat and the tingling in her eyes. She hated the wetness and the heat in her cheeks.

Dawson stood and scooped her up before turning to take the rickety seat with her in his lap. She let the worst fears of the day leak out, creating room for something new inside of her.

Dawson's hand brushed over her hair as he whispered, "Let it all out. Break apart if you have to. I'll always help you put the pieces back together. And no one has to know."

After a few minutes, her tears slowed. The rush of anger and fear was gone, and she actually felt better–stronger.

When she caught her breath, she lifted her head and wiped her face. "I don't know what the future looks like."

"Are we supposed to know that? Darn, I knew I missed something important when I got my tonsils removed in second grade."

Olivia chuckled. "I remember that. You were pitiful."

"Hey, it was the anesthesia. The nurse said it could have that effect on people."

"Yes, crying about the loss of ‘the only body part you ever loved' is probably a side effect."

Dawson huffed and reached for his chest pocket where he kept his phone. "You know what? I'm going to look it up. I'll show you–"

Olivia grabbed his hand. "Stop, I'm joking with you."

"You're never going to let me forget that! I was eight. I didn't know what a tonsil was, and I was afraid they'd removed a toe or something else I needed."

She brushed the short hair away from his forehead and framed his face with her hands. This man was special, and she couldn't fathom why he would possibly want her. "I don't know what the future looks like," she repeated softly.

"Me either, but I don't care what comes next as long as I'm with you. You're the only thing I need. I'd be happy with a few fiery sunsets and clear starry nights too, but those are optional."

Shoot. Why were her eyes trying to leak again? Loving Dawson was too much and not enough all at the same time.

Dawson adjusted his arms around her and propped his chin on her shoulder. "You're the first to remind everyone to bring their hardships to the Lord so you can pray for them too, but have you shared this problem with anyone so they can pray for you?"

Olivia shook her head, and the old memory of being scolded by her dad for leaving the back door open one night and letting a raccoon in drifted back to the surface. She knew what Dawson was getting at, and it was never fun getting taught a lesson in real-time.

"Jesus is in the boat with you, Liv. Why are you afraid of the storm? He knows you need help, so why are you afraid to sit at His feet? It's like you don't trust Him to take care of you."

"I do," she whispered.

"Good. He hears your prayers," Dawson whispered. "But He could be hearing your name in a hundred prayers."

Olivia nodded. "You're right. I've been so scared of God's answer to this problem that I hid it from everyone. If I talk about it, it's like it makes it real, and I'm scared of the plan He might have for me."

Dawson pressed a sweet kiss to her temple. "You're the strongest person I know, but you're not facing anything alone. No matter what path the Lord has in store for you, I know you'll do more than just survive. You'll thrive because you have faith. It's okay to be scared, but don't stay there. Get up and remember who stands beside you."

Hope filled her heart and made a home, settled down and planted roots right in the dirt Dawson had plowed with his words. He turned her world upside down, but now it was how it was meant to be. She wasn't an army of one, and that was what she'd been missing all along.

"I know you'll always be beside me," she said.

"And?" Dawson coaxed.

"The Lord."

"That's right, my queen. He'll never leave you."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and relaxed into his hold. God knew she needed help, and He sent her the perfect man to walk beside her through the toughest times in her life.

No matter what happened, they'd face it together.

"I have an idea," she whispered.

"I like ideas. Do tell."

Olivia leaned back and watched the chickens roaming the yard, then the goats hanging around the barn. "Want to make a video with me?"