Irene fell silent, and then she heaved a shuddering sigh. Would she be able to humble herself and embrace this town for all its flaws and limitations?
And yet, Olivia’s words were echoing inside her own head. Irene needed to forgive this town if she was to get her heart’s desire. She’d have to believe in the goodness of others... Could Olivia do that, too? Could she stand straight and walk back into this town and make a home in it? Could she forgive the people who had crushed her when she was so vulnerable? It was a lot to ask of anyone, and Olivia knew exactly why Irene was holding back. It was hard.
“I’m leaving,” Olivia said, putting a hand on Irene’s arm. “Let’s get together for a coffee in Billings.”
Irene nodded, and Olivia turned to leave. But this new thought was brewing inside of her.
Olivia had spent her energy getting out of this town, away from those rumors and the ugly people who spread them... She’d spent her energy rebuilding herself and finding a safe place to grow her life. Those were good things! But what if it were possible to forgive Beaut? What if it were possible to believe in the basic goodness of the people here, and trust them to change, grow, make a space for her?
Could she do that?
Fresh starts were painful and oh, so risky. They involved a lot of bravery, whether those starts were far from home, or back in the town that had hurt her. Could she do it for Sawyer?
But even if she could start over again, come back to Beaut and face the people who had made her most miserable all those years ago, it didn’t change what Sawyer needed.
If she truly loved this man, she’d let him focus on his daughters, and she wouldn’t get in his way.
Early that evening, Sawyer sat at the kitchen table with his daughters, who were munching on a snack of dry cereal in their high chairs.
“There are two cows that need help—” Lloyd said, slapping his hat against his jeans. Evelyn stood at the door, her jeans muddied and her hair mussed from the wind, but she looked happy enough. “One in the west pasture and one already in the barn. Toby is with the one in the west pasture, but we need to get down to the barn. And I need your help, Sawyer. This one will require some muscle.”
“Now?” Sawyer asked, standing up. “So you’ll let me actually help, will you?”
“I don’t have a choice,” Lloyd snapped. “Do as I say, and we’ll get this cow through.”
“Would you—” Sawyer turned to Evelyn.
“I’ll watch the kids,” she said quickly. “Go! I’m fine.”
Lloyd shot Evelyn a grin. “You’re some woman, you know that?”
Evelyn’s face tinged pink, but she didn’t answer, and Lloyd was already heading for his boots. Sawyer followed suit and they headed out the door for the truck, the screen slamming behind them.
“It’s triplets, we think,” Lloyd said as he hopped into the driver’s side.
Sawyer banged his door shut, and gave a curt nod. “And you kept her in the barn, knowing she’d need help when the time came.”
“You’re remembering a bit,” Lloyd said, putting the truck into gear and pulling out. “Good. We’ll need that.”
“It’s coming back,” Sawyer agreed. And so were a few more memories—his daughters as babies when they first started crawling, and that first Christmas when he and Lloyd had wrapped the presents for the girls so carefully, using up way more tape than was probably necessary. He was remembering a lot now, but nothing was quite so stark or clear in his mind as the look on Olivia’s face when he walked away.
It had taken all of his strength—of character and of body—to keep him moving. Because he loved her in a bone-deep kind of way, and getting over that love was going to take a long time. A lump was stuck in his throat, and it had been since their goodbye.
“So she’s gone, then?” Lloyd asked as they bumped over a pothole on the road down to the barn.
“Yep,” he said, his voice tight.
“You sure you want that?” Lloyd asked, looking over at him.
Sawyer’s eyes misted. “No, of course not. But it’s what’s right. And the right thing is seldom the easy thing.”
Lloyd didn’t answer. He pulled up in front of the barn and turned off the engine. They both got out, and Lloyd grabbed a few supplies from the back of the truck on his way by. Then they went inside, the smell of cattle and dust settling around them.
A very pregnant cow was pacing in her stall—her head down. Her belly was big and round, and there was a ripple of movement from within. Her hooves scraped against the floor as she walked. There were small hooves showing out the back of her, and when a contraction hit, they didn’t move any further. A young ranch hand looked over at them in relief as they came in.
“You go on and do your work,” Lloyd said to the young man. “We’ll take over.”
“Thanks.”
Sawyer watched as Lloyd put the chains on the back of the cow and felt around to attach them to the hooves. He knew the process here—it wasn’t foggy like some of those other memories, either.
“Okay, this is going to take both of us,” Lloyd said. “Wait on the contraction—”
For the next two hours, Lloyd and Sawyer worked with the cow’s natural rhythms to deliver three small but healthy calves. The mother let all three suckle, which wasn’t the norm but was a blessed relief, and Sawyer leaned back against a rail, watching the newborn animals find their own
