5. Olivia

Anna rounded on Olivia as soon as Dawson was out of sight. "Did you hear that? He asked me to be his date!"

Kinda hard not to hear that since she was an arm's length away. Also difficult to ignore since she'd suggested it.

A hollowness lay gaping in her chest. Going to the wedding with Dawson would be a dream, but she wouldn't be able to enjoy it knowing Anna wanted to be in her place.

"I heard."

"I have to find a dress," Anna said as she pulled out her phone and started typing.

"Just make a post saying you're going to a wedding, and you'll have dozens of boutiques sending you their dresses."

Anna smiled as she looked down at her phone. "I know. This will be epic."

Olivia walked into the goat pen and beckoned Henrietta over. "Come on, girl. You're first."

Dawson wouldn't be happy she was milking his goats, but he'd have to get over it. She needed something to do. Anything to keep her mind off the wedding plans unfolding.

"What about you?" Anna asked.

"I'm the maid of honor. Mine is already being altered."

"No. I mean, what about your date."

Henrietta skipped by, and Olivia followed her into the barn. "That's a problem for future Olivia."

Anna hung back in the barn entry as she tapped on her phone. "I'm asking my brother about Mark now."

"There's no rush. It's not like I'll have much time to hang out. I'm in the wedding, and I'll be up to my ears in coordinating at the reception."

Anna tucked her phone into her back pocket and propped a hand on her slim hip. "You like to play hard to get."

"That's not what I'm doing." At least, it wasn't Olivia's intention. She didn't want to lead someone on, and she had her own issues when it came to dating.

A loud crack sounded from outside the barn, and Olivia jerked her head up at the same time as Anna.

"What was that?" Anna asked.

Olivia strode to the barn opening and stuck her head outside. Dawson was shirtless and reaching for a pile of logs. His broad shoulders were rippled with muscles that ribboned down his back, and his jeans hung low on his hips. Every movement was executed with smooth control.

"Oh my word," Anna whispered just behind Olivia's ear.

Dawson wrapped his arms around a massive log and stood with it against his chest. He set it down on the stump and picked up the ax.

"Does he do this every day?" Anna asked, breathy and dazed.

Chopping wood wasn't an urgent task. It was August, for goodness' sake.

"No, he's putting on a show," Olivia said.

And boy, did he know how to draw a crowd. He wrapped his big hands around the ax handle and held it to his chest as he studied the log. Scars in all shapes and sizes were scattered over his torso.

She knew those scars. She'd been around when he got a few of them. Dawson was attracted to trouble, and he hadn't been easy on his body as a kid. It didn't help that he grew up and chose a dangerous profession either.

Dawson lifted the ax above his head and slung it down until the blade crashed into the log. The thick wood split but not all the way through. He tossed the ax down and pried his fingers into the split. Every muscle in his arms rippled as he pulled the two halves of the log apart.

"Whoa," Anna whispered.

Whoa was the word echoing in Olivia's mind too. Dawson didn't have to show off to catch her attention, but wow.

Dawson lifted his head and locked gazes with Olivia. A rush of heat swept up her neck and face as he gave her a one-sided grin and winked.

"Heaven help me," Anna said.

Olivia straightened her shoulders. "He's ridiculous," she muttered. As if she needed another reason to hyperventilate today.

"Ridiculously hot," Anna added.

A whistled chorus of "Sexy Back" came from outside the barn.

Olivia shook her head and focused on Henrietta, who was patiently waiting by the milking machine. Only Dawson would enjoy a physically demanding activity. "Ignore him."

"That's almost impossible." Anna pulled her phone out and glanced at the screen. "I've gotta run. I told Mom I'd meet her for dinner."

"Tell her I said hey."

"I will. Love you. Call me later," Anna said before blowing Olivia a kiss.

"Love you too."

The barn was quiet after Anna left, except for the occasional loud crack when Dawson split a log. She'd milked three goats before Dawson's rhythmic footsteps tore into her peaceful awareness.

"I was coming to do the milking," Dawson said beside her.

There wasn't anything to focus on while the machine did its work, but she held off on looking up at him as long as she could. "It's fine. I was finished with my other chores."

Dawson shifted beside her. "Want to talk about what happened earlier?"

Great. He was here to cut to the chase. "I told you, I'm fine."

"I don't mean yesterday. I'm talking about when you pawned me off as Anna's date."

Olivia jerked her chin up. Thankfully, he'd found his shirt, but her neck and face were still scorching. There wasn't an ounce of irritation in Dawson's features, but there wasn't any fondness either. "What do you mean?"

"I asked you if you wanted to go to the wedding with me, but somehow I came out of the conversation as Anna's date. Care to explain?"

Oh no. No, no, no. The quick heartbeats of panic rising flooded her system. "I don't need a date," she said, trying to mask the shakiness in her words.

"But you're thinking about letting a random guy take you. Why is that?"

Dawson tilted his head slightly and rested his shoulder against the wall, settling in for her explanation.

"I don't need a date. I just said that to appease Anna," Olivia said.

It was the truth. She really had no intention of asking a stranger to be her wedding date.

Dawson bit the inside of his cheek and kept his steely gaze locked on her. His blue eyes probed hers, searching for answers and finding none. "When are you going to give me a chance?"

A heavy grip tightened around her neck. Was he really calling her out? "I–I don't know what you're talking about. Anna is awesome. Everybody loves her. Sounds like you have a good chance of having a great time at the wedding."

He pushed off the wall and took a step toward her. "I don't mean with Anna. I mean–"

Dawson toppled forward and crashed into her with a loud oomph. His arms enveloped her, holding her close as they fell together. She clung to him, floating through the air until they both crashed to the ground in a tangled heap.

Her back struck the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of her lungs, but she tightened her hold on Dawson's shoulders and gasped for air.

"Are you okay?" Dawson quickly asked. "Olivia, talk to me."

He was spread out on top of her–thankfully without the bulk of his weight leaning on her–and she stayed latched onto his shoulders. One of his arms ran up her back and cradled her head while the other was planted on the ground beside her, half caging her in.

"I'm fine," she said on another gasp. "I'm fine."

Dawson jerked his head to the side. An adolescent goat bleated as he walked by.

"Hudson," Dawson grunted.

The menacing goat was gone, but she was still clinging to Dawson's immovable frame. Every inch of her body that was flush against his tingled with awareness. His powerful arm wrapped around her, rendering her almost weightless.

Her body and mind waged war as she hung in his embrace.

No, her two halves were in agreement. She should stay right here forever. Living here wouldn't be so bad. It was safe, and the pounding of her heart had every synapse of her nerve endings firing on all cylinders.

But she had to let him go. She couldn't let her feelings get out of hand or she'd lose more than one person she loved.

She unwrapped one arm and pressed her hand to his chest. The heart beating beneath her palm rushed in a rhythm that rivaled her own.

Lifting the arm that had caught the brunt of their fall, he brushed a hand over her hair as his gaze scanned over her face. His blue eyes were wide, burning dark like shadows had rolled over them. "Are you sure? You hit hard."

The movement brought his whole body closer, and she struggled to form a coherent thought. There wasn't even a hint of his usual lighthearted tone as his intense gaze bore into her.

"Liv, are you sure?" he asked again.

Not even a little. Being this close to Dawson sparked so many feelings she should have gone her entire life without experiencing.

The higher she soared, the harder she'd fall. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time.

"Yeah. I'm really okay." She patted his chest and relaxed her body. His hold gently released her until her back rested on the straw and dirt.

"Hudson is officially sold. He's headbutted his last behind," Dawson said as he lifted his body from hers.

His absence left a cold void as he moved away. She missed the contact almost immediately. "Don't make rash decisions. You know he's just playing," Olivia said as she sat up and started brushing straw from her arms and hair.

Dawson stood to his full height and offered her a hand. "It's all fun and games until my queen gets hurt."

Olivia took his hand, and he hauled her to her feet. She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I'm fine. We're both fine. No blood, no foul."

His gaze swept over her body and back up to her face. "Are you–"

"I promise! You can stop worrying. I'm not breakable."

Dawson lifted a hand as if to reach out to her but rubbed his jaw with it instead. "Okay. I'll take care of the rest of the chores."

She wanted the chores. She wanted all the responsibilities that would distract her from the swirling turmoil in her middle, but she wasn't going to fight him over it. He liked tending to his goats as much as she loved taking care of her chickens.

With a sigh, she looked around. "I guess I'll head home."

"Be careful. I'll call you tomorrow," Dawson said, still watching her for any signs of injury.

She backed out of the barn one slow step at a time. As soon as the twilight sky came into view, she covered her mouth with a hand. What was she doing? Any feelings for Dawson had to be shut down before they could bloom.

He wasn't the one for her. He was meant to end up with someone sweeter–someone carefree and fun. He deserved a wife who would give him a family, instead of piles of medical bills for a condition that never left well enough alone.

Then there was Anna–the friend who hung half of her hopes and dreams on the man Olivia was sprinting away from as fast as she could.

Olivia broke into a jog, relishing the breeze that cooled her cheeks as she tore across her dad's yard. When she reached her car, she slid inside and panted in the stillness of the cab.

The appointment with her doctor that started the downhill spiral of her week flashed to the forefront of her thoughts. The condition was approaching, whether she was ready to accept it or not. The doctor seemed to think another surgery was in her near future, and she'd known the awful truth before the doctor confirmed it.

Would it be another minor surgery this time? Or would she need a hysterectomy–the sure-fire way to kill any hopes of becoming a mother?

She still hadn't figured out the logistics of disappearing during her recovery. Who would drive her to the hospital and back? Beau was the obvious choice, but he was already neck-deep in work at the garage.

Was she ready to let someone else in yet?

Not Lyric. She was planning a wedding and building a new family with the man she loved.

Not Anna. She wouldn't be quiet about it, and Olivia clung to those rare moments when she could forget about the pain and the appointments and just be normal with her friend.

Not Dawson. He had a way of knowing something was wrong with her before anyone else suspected. He'd ask questions she didn't want to answer. He would worry, even though there wasn't anything to worry about. She would be fine, but Dawson wouldn't believe her.

She didn't want people to think of her health problem every time they saw her, and she didn't want pity stares wherever she went. If no one knew, then she could go about her life and forget about it from time to time. She wanted to be more than a disease or a diagnosis.

No, her life had to be focused on the work she was doing. It was what the Lord had called her to do–be the helping hand that was always needed. Other people had worse problems. Those she could focus on.

She pulled out her phone and scanned the dozens of tasks on her to-do list. There was plenty to keep her distracted. This was the last time she had to think about an impending surgery before her next appointment.

Just the way she wanted it to stay.