"Dad asked me to go with him to look at a horse he's thinking of buying."
"Your sister is picking up strays again." My mother's tone is cold, and it surprises me. I thought we were past this. She was nice to Sawyer when he was here teaching everyone some basic ASL, and now she's frigid?
"That's rude, Mom. Sawyer isn't a mangy cat."
"Why is Sawyer a picked-up stray?” Wyatt asks, and I give him a dirty look for using the word.
"Because he's staying with me."
"Because of The Sierra?"
I nod.
Wyatt frowns. “That's going to take months."
My annoyance flares. "I didn't say he was staying with me till the end of time."
Wyatt lifts his hand in a show of innocence. "Okay, okay. I'm just a little surprised. I didn't know you and Sawyer were a thing."
I throw up my hands. "We've been on one date. That's hardly enough to call us a thing.” My frustration with Sawyer’s slow pace is beginning to seep through.
Wyatt nods, scratching the back of his head with two fingers. "Did Sawyer tell you about his wife?"
My head rears back, as though I've been slapped. It’s made worse by the fact I’m learning this in front of the people who think I’m out of my mind for letting him move in. "What wife?"
"Former wife, I guess. He's a widower."
I blink hard. "You should have led with that."
Wyatt presses his lips together, then slowly peels them apart. "I don't know much about the marriage, honestly. But when I learned who Sawyer was after he bought into Wildflower, I asked him why he was back in Sierra Grande. He said he'd lost his wife, and that he returned to the last place he could remember feeling happy."
Something slices across my chest. Sadness for Sawyer. Sympathy for what he experienced. And so much understanding about why he is the way he is.
"I'm sure he would've told me eventually." I smile, but it feels weak.
Wyatt studies me. “You sure you know what you're doing, Calamity?"
"I sure as hell do not know what I’m doing, but when has that ever stopped me?"
My bravado works. It causes my dad to grunt irritably, and Wyatt laughs. My mom bites into her lower lip and looks a million miles away.
"I love you all, I really do." I back out of the room. "But at some point, you're going to have to let me live and not question everything I do just because you don't understand it." I blow a kiss to the three of them and walk out of their eyesight.
So much for waiting around to see Wes. I think I need a break from my family for today.
I love them dearly, but I can't figure out the person I'm growing into if my family is constantly reminding me who I've always been.
20
Sawyer
I'm trudgingup the stairs when a throat clears. It's Jessie, perched on the front porch swing that hangs from the ceiling. She has one leg curled up on the seat, the other planted firmly on the ground. Her face is free of makeup, and she wears a low-cut tank top, shorts, and a thin cardigan. Her hair looks damp.
"How did it go with Wes?" I ask, coming closer.
She doesn't say anything. Her head tips, exposing the length of her neck, her delicate skin the color of fresh cream. There's a tugging sensation in my chest, a pull that creeps up into my throat. I try to think of Brea, but when I do, all I see is Jessie. It makes me want to run and hide in that child-size bed I'm sleeping on.
At some point, something has to give. A dam can only hold so much water until it bursts.
