Chapter 9- Round One.

SAWYER.

People started showing up earlier than usual.

And I knew exactly why.

There was somethin' interesting at my house, and apparently, the whole damn town wanted to get their hands on her.

Chloe.

Word had spread faster than a wildfire in August.

Sawyer Montgomery had a beautiful woman livin' under his roof, and according to the good folks of Pleasant Valley, I was practically married to her and already workin' on fillin' the house with babies.

Jesus Christ.

I'd barely known the woman a few days, and these people had already planned our entire future.

I could see the curiosity in their eyes whenever we went into town. Hell, I could practically feel their questions burnin' holes through the back of my head.

And I knew I wasn't exactly helpin' matters by havin' Chloe stay at the ranch.

But goddamn.

Gossip had become a full-time occupation around here.

"Where's the princess at?"

I looked up from the potatoes I was peelin' to find Ricky strollin' into my kitchen like he owned the damn place.

The fucker was usually one of the last people to show up.

Today?

First one through the door.

Figures.

"She's still gettin' ready."

Ricky grinned.

"Well, ain't that somethin'."

"What?"

"Nothin'. Just never thought I'd see the day you had a pretty little thing gettin' dressed while you were in here peelin' potatoes."

"Shut up."

He laughed and helped himself to a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

"You know Claire met her at the gas station the day she crashed into your fence?"

I stopped peelin'.

"Did she?"

"Yup. Said the poor girl was lost as hell. Bought herself a road map and didn't have the slightest idea how to read the damn thing."

I laughed.

That sounded exactly like Chloe.

"Claire said she stood there starin' at that map like it was written in Chinese."

"Well, she ain't exactly familiar with these roads."

"No shit. Claire said she kept turnin' the map upside down."

I shook my head, chucklin' as I reached for another potato.

Lord, that woman.

She could probably navigate her way through some fancy New York museum blindfolded, but put her on a country road with a paper map, and she'd end up three counties over.

"She's somethin' else, ain't she?" Ricky said.

I glanced at him.

"What?"

"Your princess."

"She ain't my princess."

"Right."

"Ricky."

"What? I didn't say nothin'."

He took another drink of water, lookin' entirely too pleased with himself.

"Just sayin', Monty. Ain't seen you laugh this much in a long time."

That shut me up.

Because the bastard wasn't wrong. And I didn't particularly appreciate him pointin' it out.

Before I could think of somethin' smart to say, another truck pulled into the driveway.

Then another.

And another.

I glanced at the clock.

"You gotta be kiddin' me."

Ricky followed my gaze toward the window.

"Looks like folks are excited about tonight."

"Folks are nosy as hell."

"Same difference."

By the time I'd finished peelin' half the potatoes, there were already enough vehicles parked outside to make the place look like we were hostin' a damn wedding.

I hadn't even salted the ribs yet.

And the potatoes?

Still sittin' in the sink.

The same potatoes I'd threatened to make Chloe peel after she spent half the afternoon insultin' my handwriting.

I smiled to myself.

That smart-mouthed little woman had a comeback for everything.

And for reasons I wasn't particularly interested in examin', I was startin' to look forward to hearin' what she'd say next.

"Well, well, well!"

A familiar voice boomed from the doorway.

I turned.

Dad stood there with his cowboy hat pushed back, a wide grin spread across his face.

Thomas Montgomery.

Sixty-one years old, stubborn as a mule, and still convinced nobody in the state of West Virginia knew more about cattle than he did.

"Where's this mysterious woman I've been hearin' so much about?" he demanded.

I groaned.

"Not you, too."

Dad laughed.

"Boy, your mama's been talkin' about nothin' else since yesterday."

That wasn't particularly reassurin'.

"And where is Ma?"

"Comin'. Charlie's with her."

"Wonderful."

Dad walked over and slapped me on the shoulder.

"Now, don't go lookin' so miserable. Your old man's just curious."

"Everybody's curious."

"Well, hell, son. Can't blame us. First woman you've had stayin' here in years, and you expect folks not to wonder?"

I looked down at the potato in my hand.

There it was.

That familiar reminder of everything I'd lost.

Dad must've noticed because his expression softened.

"Didn't mean nothin' by it, Sawyer."

"I know, Dad."

He squeezed my shoulder.

"Just good to see somethin' different around here, that's all."

I nodded.

Before either of us could say another word, the front door opened again.

"Sawyer!"

My sister's voice echoed through the house.

Charlotte Montgomery.

Or Charlie, as everybody called her.

Twenty-nine years old and quite possibly the biggest pain in my ass after Ricky McAllister.

"Kitchen!" I hollered.

She appeared a moment later, her long brown hair pulled into a ponytail and a mischievous grin already plastered across her face.

"Where is she?"

I threw my hands up.

"Jesus Christ! Does anybody in this family know how to say hello anymore?"

Charlie laughed.

"Hello, dear brother. How are you? Wonderful weather we're having. Now, where's the mysterious woman?"

Dad roared with laughter.

Ricky nearly choked on his water, and his wife, Claire, patted him on the back like he was some five-year-old who hadn't learned how to drink without making a damn mess.

I stared at all four of them.

Damn nosy people.

"She's in her room gettin' ready," I muttered.

Charlie clapped her hands.

"Oh, I cannot wait to meet her!"

"She's a guest, Charlie. Not a circus attraction."

"Relax, Sawyer. I'm just excited."

"Everybody's excited."

"Well, can you blame us?" She leaned against the counter, grinning. "You've been walkin' around like a grumpy old bear for years, and suddenly there's a beautiful woman livin' in your house."

"She crashed into my fence."

"So I've heard."

"Her car's busted."

"Also heard that."

"She's stayin' until Ricky fixes it."

Charlie tilted her head.

"Then why are you explainin' yourself so much?"

I opened my mouth.

Closed it.

Dad laughed so hard he had to grab the counter.

"She's got you there, son!"

I pointed the potato peeler at my sister.

"Don't start."

She smiled sweetly.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Then she leaned toward Ricky and whispered loudly enough for the entire kitchen to hear.

"He's already in love with her."

"CHARLIE!"

The kitchen erupted in laughter.

And I swear to God, if one more person mentioned Chloe Anderson before I finished these damn potatoes, I was gonna start throwin' them.

But before anybody could mention her name again, Chloe made her entrance into the kitchen.

And the damn potato I was holdin' slipped right out of my hand and landed in the sink.

Well, I'll be damned.

She stood in the doorway wearing a burgundy dress that hugged her in all the right places without showing too much of anything. It fell just below her knees, and she'd paired it with a set of brown leather boots.

Both courtesy of Sally's thrift store.

I'd been there when she'd bought them. Hell, I'd watched her hold that dress up against herself and complain about the color before Sally convinced her to try it on. But seeing it on her?

That was a whole different story.

Her short brown hair fell softly around her shoulders, the ends curling inward just enough to frame her face. She'd done somethin' with her eyes, too. Nothing heavy. Just enough to make that pretty green color stand out.

And on her ears were those diamond earrings she'd tried to sell at Walter's pawn shop.

I remembered the ridiculous amount of money she'd expected to get for them. At the time, I'd figured she was either crazy or had absolutely no idea what jewelry was worth.

Now, seeing those stones glitter against her ears, I was starting to wonder if I'd been wrong about a whole lot more than that.

She looked...

Jesus.

I didn't even have a word for it.

Beautiful didn't seem like enough.

There was somethin' about the way she carried herself. Her shoulders were relaxed, her chin lifted, and she had this quiet confidence that made an ordinary kitchen doorway look like the entrance to some fancy ballroom.

She wasn't dressed like the women around here.

But she wasn't trying to show anybody up, either.

She just looked like Chloe.

And apparently, that was enough to make me forget how to breathe.

My heart did somethin' strange inside my chest.

A hard thump.

Then another.

I didn't understand what the hell was happening. And I sure as shit didn't appreciate it.

"Well, good Lord Almighty." Dad's voice broke through my thoughts.

I blinked.

Chloe smiled.

"Good evening, everyone." Her voice was smooth and pleasant, and I watched her glance around the kitchen, taking in the unfamiliar faces before her eyes finally landed on me.

"Did I interrupt something?"

"No, ma'am," Dad answered before I could get my mouth working again. "Matter of fact, I believe you just improved the scenery considerably."

"Dad," I muttered.

"What?" He grinned. "I'm old, son. Not blind."

Chloe laughed.

And there it was again.

That damn sound.

I liked hearing her laugh entirely too much.

"Well, aren't you charming?" she said, stepping farther into the kitchen. "You must be Sawyer's father."

"Thomas Montgomery. But you can call me Tom, sweetheart." He offered his hand.

Chloe took it with an easy smile. "Chloe Anderson. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Montgomery."

"Tom," he corrected.

"Tom, then."

He glanced at me. "She's got manners, Sawyer. Where'd you find her?"

"Your son found me trespassing on his property," Chloe answered before I could speak. "Although, in my defense, I was having a rather unfortunate disagreement with my vehicle."

Dad chuckled.

"That right?"

"Unfortunately, the vehicle won. The fence was an innocent casualty."

Charlie burst out laughing.

"Oh, I like her already!"

Chloe turned toward my sister.

"And you must be Charlotte."

"Charlie," she said, practically bouncing across the kitchen. "Please call me Charlie. Nobody calls me Charlotte unless I've done something wrong."

"Then Charlie it is. Although I must say, Charlotte is a beautiful name."

"Thank you! Finally, somebody appreciates it."

"Don't encourage her," I said.

Charlie ignored me completely.

"I'm Sawyer's little sister."

Chloe looked from Charlie to me.

Then back again.

"Really?"

Charlie nodded.

"Why?"

Chloe pressed her lips together, looking thoughtful. "Nothing. I'm simply trying to understand how two people raised in the same household could have such different personalities."

Dad threw his head back and laughed.

Charlie grabbed Chloe's arm. "Oh, honey. We're going to get along just fine."

I pointed at her. "Don't you start, either."

Chloe glanced at me. "Start what?"

"Whatever it is you're thinkin'."

She smiled sweetly. "How unfortunate. I was just thinking how lovely your family is."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, most of them."

Ricky lost it.

Claire smacked his arm, laughing herself.

And Dad?

The old man looked like Christmas had come early.

"Son," he said, wiping at the corner of his eye, "I believe you've finally met your match."

"She ain't my match."

"Of course not," Chloe agreed pleasantly. "I'm considerably better behaved."

The kitchen erupted again.

I looked at the ceiling.

Lord, give me strength.

"Well, I certainly hope all this laughter means someone has finally finished preparing dinner."

The voice came from behind Chloe.

And just like that, I knew the fun was over.

My mother stood in the doorway, holding a covered casserole dish with both hands.

Eleanor Montgomery.

My mother stood in the doorway, holding a covered casserole dish in one hand and her purse in the other.

Eleanor Montgomery.

She was wearing her favorite pair of faded blue jeans, a plaid button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and the same worn-out cowboy boots she'd owned for as long as I could remember.

Her graying brown hair was pulled into a messy bun, with a few stubborn strands escaping around her face.

Ma had never been one to fuss over appearances. She'd spent most of her life working alongside Dad, raising three hardheaded kids, and making damn sure nobody in the Montgomery family went hungry.

She was a good woman.

A loving mother.

And stubborn enough to argue with a fence post if she thought it was standing in the wrong place.

Unfortunately, she also had a habit of deciding whether she liked somebody before they'd even opened their mouth.

And judging by the way her eyes traveled from Chloe's pretty burgundy dress to her leather boots, she'd already made up her mind.

Ah, hell.

This was gonna be a long damn evening.

"Evenin', Ma."

"Hello, Sawyer."

She handed me the casserole without looking away from Chloe.

"And who might this be?"

Before I could answer, Chloe stepped forward.

"Good evening, Mrs. Montgomery. I'm Chloe Anderson. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She extended her hand.

Ma looked at it.

Then at Chloe.

And took just a little too long before accepting it.

"Chloe," she repeated. "Yes. I've heard quite a bit about you."

Chloe's smile never wavered.

"Hopefully nothing too scandalous."

"Well, in a town this small, people do tend to talk."

"So I've noticed."

Ma gave her a thin smile.

"And you're staying here? In Sawyer's house?"

"That's correct."

"How unusual."

There it was.

That particular tone my mother used when she wanted everybody to know she disapproved of something without actually saying it.

Chloe tilted her head.

"Is it?"

"Well, a young woman staying in the home of a man she barely knows..."

"Mother," I warned.

But Chloe raised a hand ever so slightly.

Not toward me.

Just enough to tell me she had it handled.

And for some damn reason, I listened.

"Mrs. Montgomery," she said, her voice as pleasant as ever, "I can assure you that your son has been nothing but a gentleman."

"I'm sure he has."

"So, with all due respect, Mrs. Montgomery, if you trust that your son is a gentleman, shouldn't you give him the benefit of the doubt and trust that he'll know how to behave around a strange woman?"

The room went silent.

Oh, shit.

I knew that look on my mother's face.

She didn't appreciate being questioned, especially in front of company.

And she sure as hell didn't appreciate Chloe's answer.

"Are you always this mouthy?" Ma asked, planting a hand on her hip.

Chloe didn't answer.

But somebody else sure as hell did.

"Oh, she is."

You've gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me.

I turned toward the doorway.

Savannah McAllister.

Of course.

Because apparently, one woman givin' me a headache wasn't enough for the evening.

"Savannah!" Ricky called out, shooting his sister a warning look.

"What?" Savannah shrugged as she stepped into the kitchen, carrying a bowl covered in aluminum foil. "I'm only stating the facts."

She gave Chloe a smug little smile.

"She was pretty rude to me earlier today."

"She was defendin' herself," I announced.

Savannah's smile faltered.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

I set the potato peeler on the counter. "You were rude to her at the grocery store, Savvy. She just didn't let you get away with it."

Ricky let out a low whistle.

Charlie looked between the three of us, clearly enjoying herself.

And Dad?

The old man was standing by the refrigerator with his arms crossed, looking like he'd just been handed front-row tickets to the best show in town.

Savannah's cheeks turned pink. "Monty, I was only being friendly."

"Funny," Chloe said pleasantly. "I must have misunderstood your particular style of friendliness."

Charlie snorted.

I bit back a grin.

Savannah narrowed her eyes. "Well, around here, we don't usually insult people we've just met."

Chloe tilted her head. "How interesting. I was under the impression that asking a complete stranger whether she'd been drinking before a car accident was considered rather insulting."

Ricky turned toward his sister. "You asked her what?"

Savannah shifted uncomfortably. "It was a joke!"

"Then perhaps," Chloe replied with a gracious smile, "we simply have very different senses of humor."

Dad chuckled. "Well, I reckon that settles that."

But Ma wasn't finished. "Now, hold on. Savannah's been part of this family for years. There's no need to embarrass her in front of everybody."

Chloe turned toward my mother. "With all due respect, Mrs. Montgomery, I didn't invite this conversation. I was simply answering the accusations being made about me."

Ma opened her mouth.

Then closed it.

And I swear, I nearly laughed.

Because Eleanor Montgomery was not accustomed to having the last word taken away from her. Especially not by a pretty little stranger wearing a burgundy dress and diamond earrings.

Chloe glanced around the kitchen, then smiled. "Now, if everyone is finished discussing my character, perhaps we could return to the barbecue? I believe Sawyer still has an unfortunate number of potatoes to peel."

Dad burst out laughing.

Charlie followed.

And Ricky shook his head, grinning.

"Lord have mercy, Sawyer. You sure know how to pick 'em."

I looked at Chloe.

She was standing there as calm as could be, completely unfazed by the two women glaring at her. And for some reason, I couldn't stop smiling.

Jesus Christ.

This woman was going to be the death of me.

And the worst part?

I was startin' to enjoy every damn minute of it.

"Sawyer, I really like this girl," Charlie whispered in my ear, watching Chloe walk away from my mother and Savannah as if she hadn't just survived an interrogation.

If only she knew how much I liked her, too.

More than I should.

More than I was willing to admit, even to myself.

But I sure as hell wasn't about to tell my little sister that. Charlie had a mouth bigger than the state of West Virginia, and the last thing I needed was her spreading rumors about feelings I hadn't even figured out myself.

So I did what any reasonable older brother would do.

I pretended she was annoying the shit out of me. "Shut up and go light the grill," I muttered, nudging her toward the back door.

Charlie grinned. "Oh, somebody's got a crush."

"Charlie."

"What? I'm just sayin'."

"Grill. Now."

She laughed, raised both hands in surrender, and headed outside. "Whatever you say, Romeo!"

I'm gonna kill that girl.

Meanwhile, Sally and Earl had been quiet spectators throughout the entire exchange. They'd watched Chloe handle my mother and Savannah with the kind of composure that would've impressed a damn judge.

Sally, especially, looked mighty pleased with herself. Probably because she'd been the one who'd sold Chloe that burgundy dress.

"Well, sweetheart," Sally finally spoke up, approaching Chloe with a warm smile, "how about you give Earl and me a hand settin' up the tables outside?"

"Of course. I'd be delighted to help."

"Wonderful! Come on, then."

Earl picked up a stack of plates while Sally gathered the napkins and silverware.

I watched Chloe follow them toward the back porch, her boots clicking softly against the wooden floor. And I knew exactly what those two were up to.

They weren't interested in having her set the damn table.

They wanted to pry.

Sally Hensley could get more information out of a stranger in five minutes than the sheriff could during a two-hour interrogation. And Earl wasn't much better.

Between the two of them, Chloe was about to be questioned about everything from her hometown to her favorite breakfast cereal.

Poor woman.

Then again, after watching her handle my mother and Savannah, I wasn't entirely sure who I should be feeling sorry for.

I glanced toward the window.

Chloe was already laughing at something Earl had said, while Sally fussed over the placement of the plates.

She looked comfortable.

Happy, even.

And I found myself smiling like a damn fool.

"She's a pretty little thing, ain't she?"

Dad's voice startled me.

I turned.

He was leaning against the counter, watching me with that knowing grin of his.

"Don't start, Dad."

"I ain't started nothin'."

"Good."

He took a slow sip of his drink. "Just been a long time since I've seen you look at a woman that way."

My smile faded.

Dad noticed.

Of course he did.

He'd always been able to read me better than anybody.

"Son," he said quietly, "ain't nothin' wrong with bein' happy again."

I looked back toward the window.

Chloe had thrown her head back laughing, one hand resting against her stomach while Earl apparently entertained her with another one of his ridiculous stories.

And for the first time in years, I found myself wondering what it would be like to hear that laughter in my house every single day.

Jesus Christ.

I was in trouble.

Deep, deep trouble.

And the worst part?

I wasn't entirely sure I wanted out of it.

"Sawyer."

My mother's voice cut through the moment Dad and I were sharing.

Oh, fuck.

I knew that tone.

And I knew damn well she was about to ruin whatever good Dad had been trying to do.

I turned toward her reluctantly.

"Yeah, Ma?"

She stood beside the kitchen island, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"I know you're ready to move on, sweetheart. It's been almost three years since Adeline passed."

My jaw tightened.

"Ma..."

"No, Sawyer. Hear me out. I think it's time, too. Lord knows you've spent enough years by yourself. But you need to make sure you're choosing the right woman."

I closed my eyes for a second.

Here we fuckin' go again.

"Eleanor," Dad interrupted, setting his drink on the counter. "Don't you reckon Sawyer's old enough to make that decision on his own?"

Ma turned toward him.

"Thomas, I'm only looking out for our son."

"And I'm tellin' you our son don't need somebody pickin' out a wife for him."

She ignored him.

"Sawyer, I know you're still hurting. A man doesn't just get over losing his wife and baby. And sometimes, when we're hurting, we make decisions we wouldn't normally make."

I stared at her. "What exactly are you tryin' to say?"

"I'm saying you need to be careful. You don't know anything about that girl. She shows up out of nowhere, wrecks your fence, and suddenly she's living under your roof."

"Her car's bein' fixed, Ma."

"And what happens when it's fixed?"

"That's between Chloe and me."

Ma pressed her lips together. "Well, I just don't want you getting attached to the wrong woman."

"Woman!" Dad snapped.

"What, Thomas?"

"Leave the boy be! He's thirty-two years old, for heaven's sake. He can decide who he wants in his own damn house."

"But Savannah would be the perfect choice for him!"

Jesus fucking Christ.

There it was.

Savannah McAllister.

Again.

Always Savannah.

I swear, my mother had been trying to shove that woman down my throat for years.

Before Adeline, she'd mentioned Savannah every chance she got.

After Adeline died, she'd given me some time to grieve. Then, little by little, she'd started again.

Savannah this.

Savannah that.

Savannah brought you dinner.

Savannah stopped by to check on you.

Savannah would make a wonderful wife. And now, apparently, Savannah was the answer to every damn problem in my life.

I slammed the potato peeler onto the counter. "Ma, I swear to God, if you bring up Savannah as a possible wife one more time, this'll be the last barbecue either of you gets invited to."

My mother's mouth fell open. "Sawyer Montgomery!"

"I'm serious."

"There's no need to speak to me like that!"

"Then stop tryin' to run my life!"

Dad slowly shook his head. "Told you, Eleanor."

Ma turned toward him. "Oh, don't you start, Thomas!"

"I warned you to leave him alone."

"I'm his mother!"

"And I'm his father. What's your point?"

I dragged a hand down my face.

Good Lord.

I loved my parents.

I really did.

But sometimes they could drive a man straight into an early grave.

Ma looked back at me, her expression softening. "Sawyer, honey, I just want you to be happy."

For a moment, I didn't say anything. Because I knew she meant it.

I knew she'd watched me fall apart after Adeline died.

She'd seen me go days without eating, spend nights out in the barn, and work myself half to death just so I wouldn't have to come inside to an empty house.

She'd been there.

They all had.

But that didn't mean she got to decide what happiness was supposed to look like for me.

"Then let me figure out what makes me happy, Ma."

Her face changed.

Just a little.

And for one brief second, I thought maybe she'd finally understood.

Then she sighed.

"I still think Savannah—"

"That's it."

I threw my hands up.

Dad groaned.

"Eleanor!"

"What? I didn't even finish!"

"You didn't have to!" I snapped.

I grabbed my cowboy hat from the counter and headed toward the back door.

"Where are you going?" Ma demanded.

"Outside."

"We're not finished talking, Sawyer!"

"Yeah, Ma. We are."

I stopped at the doorway and glanced back. "Gotta make sure Charlie doesn't burn her eyelashes off tryin' to light that damn grill."

Dad chuckled. "Better hurry, son. Your sister's about as useful around a grill as a screen door on a submarine."

Under different circumstances, I would've laughed. But right then, I needed some fresh air.

Badly.

I stepped onto the back porch and pulled the door shut behind me.

The evening breeze hit my face, carrying the smell of freshly cut grass, charcoal, and the first hint of barbecue smoke.

I took a deep breath.

Then another.

Son of a bitch.

I hated arguing with my mother.

But I hated being told how to live my life even more.

For almost three years, I'd been trying to figure out how to exist without Adeline. And now that I was finally beginning to feel something other than grief, my mother wanted to tell me who I was allowed to feel it for.

I looked across the backyard.

Charlie was standing beside the grill, arguing with Ricky about how much lighter fluid was too much. And a little farther away, beneath the shade of an old oak tree, stood Chloe.

She was helping Sally arrange the tables while Earl entertained them with some ridiculous story.

Her burgundy dress moved gently in the breeze.

Her short brown hair brushed against her cheeks. And when she laughed, I found myself smiling despite the irritation still burning in my chest.

There she is.

The woman who'd managed to turn my entire world upside down in just a few days.

The woman I knew almost nothing about.

The woman who was still married to somebody else.

And the woman I couldn't seem to stop thinking about.

I shoved my hands into my pockets.

Fuck.

Maybe Ma was right about one thing.

I was getting attached.

But she was dead wrong if she thought Savannah McAllister was the answer.

Because if there was one thing I knew with absolute certainty, it was that I didn't want Savannah.

I never had.

And no amount of pushing, nagging, or matchmaking was ever going to change that.

My eyes found Chloe again.

She looked up from the table.

Caught me staring.

And smiled.

Just like that, the tightness in my chest eased.

Goddamn it.

I was in serious trouble.