Cowboy On Call. Leigh Riker

at the Circle H, Logan had been in Wichita for his job as a test pilot for a small manufacturer of private jets. Now he was a rancher again, though she wondered if that would last. “Lucky we did. After I reached your brother’s place, we rode cross-country in the pitch-black, praying our horses wouldn’t run into a barbed wire fence we couldn’t see.” That only reminded her of the horse she’d lost in that same field. “I’m still sorry, Olivia, that I wasn’t there for you sooner.”

      Briefly, she leaned her head against his shoulder. “You came,” she said. “That’s all that mattered.” And at one time, she’d thought he was everything she needed. “I shouldn’t have spent so much time blaming you.” Three years, she thought, until this past spring.

      She straightened, her heart tripping. Sawyer was coming down the hall toward them at last. She couldn’t tell from his face what, if anything, he’d learned.

      Logan shot to his feet. “Well?”

      Sawyer put out both hands, palms down. “Relax. He’s okay. No real damage.”

      “Then why aren’t you smiling?” Olivia asked.

      Sawyer seemed not to hear her. “He doesn’t quite know what happened at the barn but that’s nothing to worry about. He’ll remember. His pupils are equal and reactive now...”

      Logan shook his head. “That reminds me of Sam. While he still had his cast on, he decided to take a horseback ride, prove he was fine—and fell in that same barn aisle. He still has some residual effects from his concussion.”

      “He had two falls? All I ever heard was he’d broken his leg.”

      “Maybe you should check in more often,” Logan muttered.

      Obviously, their reunion hadn’t gone well, but she’d picked up on something that mattered even more to her. He’d said no real damage. “What’s wrong, Sawyer?”

      “Probably nothing, just me feeling twitchy.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “The hospital wouldn’t send him home if they thought he wasn’t okay. They’re going to release him tonight...into my care.”

      He didn’t seem to want that responsibility, and Olivia wondered why. Although he’d finally come with them to the hospital, she’d resented his hesitation at first. True, he didn’t know Nick very well—in fact, not at all—but did he not like children? Or was he holding a grudge? He and Logan hadn’t been close for a number of years, but that couldn’t be all. As a doctor, Sawyer was bound by an oath to treat those who needed him.

      Had he been reluctant to help Nick because of her?

      Because his “help” years ago had only led to tragedy for Olivia.

      * * *

      HOURS LATER, at the ranch, Olivia and Logan settled Nick into bed upstairs while Sawyer paced the family room. If he were the admitting physician at Farrier General, Nick would be in a room there overnight under observation. Or was Sawyer still in panic mode?

      All he could think of was another pending disaster. The wrong diagnosis. Something Sawyer had missed at his clinic with someone else’s child. Those nightmares haunted him every night and sometimes during the day until his hands shook and his heart beat like thunder.

      If he had to diagnose himself, he’d say post-traumatic stress disorder. PTSD, like a soldier after battle, which in a way he supposed he was. Certainly the long hours, the deprivations, the constant stream of crises coming through the clinic door after the landslide should qualify as traumatic. For sure, his error in judgment did.

      And then, as if he needed more, there was Olivia. Being back had already made clear her ongoing mistrust of him. Earlier, she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

      He turned to make another circuit of the room. The house, the yard, were quiet. The reception was long over. The caterers had packed up and left, and not a single car remained in the makeshift parking area. The nearby kitchen looked immaculate. The neatness all around should have calmed him, its sense of order and all the trappings of civilization.

      What could happen here? But of course, he knew, and not only because of Nick. Because of Olivia.

      Footsteps sounded on the stairs and, before Sawyer could finish his thought, Logan walked into the room. He’d ditched his blazer and tie and rolled up his white shirtsleeves.

      “He asleep?” Sawyer asked.

      “Drifting in and out, I think.”

      Olivia had wanted to take Nick home to their house in Barren, to his own bed for the night, but Logan wouldn’t hear of that. Olivia would stay here with Nick, and the newlyweds would spend their first night of marriage on the Circle H, close enough to make sure Nick was okay before they even thought about leaving on their honeymoon. And perhaps most important, this was where Sawyer would be staying. He was supposedly in charge for the night. Nick had been released only because a doctor would be present.

      His palms began to sweat. And as he’d expected earlier, his brother wasn’t happy with him. Nick’s accident had only delayed their talk.

      “I appreciate you finally coming back,” Logan said. “Even if you didn’t make it in time to be my best man. But I’m still mad.”

      “Because I showed up late? I’m sorry, but I’m here now.” His brother appeared a lot calmer than Sawyer felt. His reluctance to explain himself warred with his longing to reconnect with his twin. He wanted to hear Logan call him Tom again, as he used to do, a teasing play on his name.

      “Hell, Sawyer, you didn’t even bother to answer my calls.”

      Okay, he could give Logan this much. “I run a clinic in a remote area. You can’t imagine how remote. I bet you’ve never heard of Kedar. In the heart of the Himalayas, the highest, most rugged mountains on earth. You think the Circle H can be hard to get to?”

      “Hard enough,” Logan murmured. “Three years ago, we nearly lost Nick right here when a spring flood blocked the roads to town and washed out the driveway. He and Olivia were stuck, trapped, in fact—I wasn’t home—and Nick was very sick.”

      “I didn’t know.”

      “If Grey and I hadn’t forged our way from Wilson Cattle over the hill on horseback, he could have died of pneumonia. So yeah, I know hard.”

      “Maybe so, but those people I work with have very little. To them, the Circle H would seem like paradise—except they love those mountains. Even my sat phone doesn’t always work there.” He added, “If it did, I would have called you back.” Yet his phone had been working fine before the landslide; his cell, too, most of the time. “I imagine Grey Wilson must have done a good job as best man in my place.”

      “He did. But how would I know about your sat phone—or anything else? Sawyer, the last time I talked to you, about Sam’s accident, all I got was ‘I’m here and there, doing this and that.’ That was months ago. And then there was your silence about the wedding. We’re brothers. Why didn’t you tell me where you were? What you were doing?”

      Sawyer took the verbal lashing. He had been secretive about his clinic, about his life there. For one thing, Sam wouldn’t have approved. For another, Sawyer’s decision to leave the Circle H—in part because of his feelings for Olivia—had been immature, and though he didn’t regret opening the clinic, he was sorry for the way he’d left things at home. Not sharing much about Kedar had been a way to avoid dealing with how he’d treated his family. He wasn’t proud of running out on them, but it was obviously his MO.

      Logan wasn’t finished. “After Mom and Dad died, you and I were never apart for more than a day or two until you left here for good. Left me with the Circle H,” Logan said. “And that’s all I get from you now? Some weak excuse? I mean, what’s the point of living in a place like you describe?”

      “I like to help people. I don’t belong here anymore.”

      “What are you, really?