"What?" I ask. "It'srain, Wes. It's what we've been waiting for."
"Rain that comes this fast and hard can lead to a flash flood."
"There's a levee to keep that from happening, remember? Don't be so worried all the time. Just enjoy the rain. Roll out the barrels and collect it."
"They're out, Jessie. Right next to the downspouts, where they should be. The tanks are ready, too." He gives me a long look. It's not unkind, but it's firm. "You're not the only one who's good at your job."
There was a time when that comment would've pissed me off and a snarky comeback would've rolled off my tongue. These days, I'm feeling a little more appreciated, so I say, "Good work, Brother."
Wes glances away, but uses his peripheral vision to find my eyes and smile at me. I purse my lips and hide my smile.
We finish up for the afternoon, and it doesn't stop raining. It rains and rains, as if the heavens are releasing all they've held back for months on end. Twelve hours later, the rain turned to a sprinkle, and now it is only a mist.
I'm sliding gloves onto my hands to prepare for day two of branding and vaccinating when my mom runs into the barn. She comes to my side and puts her lips near my ear.
"Sawyer is here," she says under her breath.
My heart drops to my knees. "What? He's here? At the homestead?"
She nods. "He pulled up just as I was walking over here. Dakota took Colt to explore around the house after the rain, and I was coming to see if you needed help." She holds up the gloves in her hands, evidence of what she was saying.
I look out the barn doors, but I can't see him from here. I take a deep breath, attempting to slow my frenzied heart rate. It rams against my chest and climbs up my throat anyway.
Peeling off my gloves, I run a hand over my hair and turn to my mom. She smiles at me, and there is nothing but happiness and support in that grin. “Don’t live in our past, Jessie. There is nothing for you back there.”
“Thank you, Mom,” I whisper, kissing her cheek.
I tear from the barn. It feels like years since I’ve seen him, when in reality it’s only been weeks. I turn the corner and there he is, standing beside his car. He’s looking down, his hands in his pockets. My God, that man is gorgeous. My heart flips, pivots, stutters. He's wearing the jeans he bought while he was staying with me, and a shirt I don't recognize. The closer I get, the more I see his lips moving. Is he practicing what he's going to say?
I stop a few feet away and clear my throat to get his attention. He looks up. His throat bobs. We stare at each other, the seconds ticking by. Mist dusts our faces.
Sawyer strides across the few feet separating us. He grabs me at the same time I reach for him, grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt.
His lips press to mine, and he kisses me like he is the thirsty land that has been deprived of water. My hands slide through his damp hair. My entire body shivers, and I know it's not the rain.
"Missed you," he says, dragging in a breath and kissing me lightly. "Missed you so much."
The tips of our noses rub together as I nod. "We'll figure it out. All of it. We'll make it work."
"Yes," he breathes, the scent of cinnamon mixing with the smell of rain. "I'm sorry I ran away when it got tough. I was upset and I needed to figure myself out. But the one thing I didn't have to figure out was how I felt about you. You were my constant. I know, no matter what has happened in the past or will happen in the future, that I love you." He kisses me again, and it's the sweetest kiss of my life because his words are still in my ears. "I love you," he whispers again when he pulls away.
I close my eyes and smile. "I love you too, Sawyer. I'm sorry I let you go. I was too shocked to fight, but if there ever comes a time when I need to fight for us, I won't make that mistake twice."
"I—" Sawyer pauses, his expression changing. "What was that sound?"
The sudden change in mood sends alarm bells ringing. "What sound?"
Then I hear it. A rumbling, like a train. Except there aren't train tracks anywhere near Sierra Grande. "Go," Sawyer says urgently, pushing me toward the homestead.
"Sawyer, what—"
Then I see it. And I scream.
39
Sawyer
"Jessie, go,"I push her again, just a little harder than before. I have to get her to higher ground.
