Western Ties: Compass Brothers, Book 4 (12 page)

“I understand you’re angry. Hell, I’d be pissed off too. I think you need to give them a chance to explain why they didn’t call you.”

“Do you honestly think there’s any reason in the world that’s fucking good enough to keep me from coming home?”

She winced as his yelling reverberated off the closed car windows. He leaned against the headrest and forced himself to inhale slowly. Maybe she was right. He needed to get a grip.

As they pulled up to the house, Sawyer turned to Leah.

She glanced at him warily. “I should head back to my apartment.”

Sawyer shook his head. He was facing some of the hardest moments of his life. “No. Stay.”

She started to argue, so he quickly added, “Please.”

She released a long sigh. “I’d be in the way, Sawyer. This is your homecoming. It should just be family.”

He disagreed. “I
need
you here. I can’t do this alone, Leah.”

She didn’t answer. She simply reached for the handle and opened the door, stepping out, giving him exactly what he asked for. God, he wasn’t sure how he’d managed to find her at the exact moment he needed her most, but he was so grateful he had.

He followed suit, rounding the hood of the car, intent on grabbing her hand and leading her inside. He pulled up short when Sam moseyed down the path by the side of the house, grinning from ear to ear, with his arm wrapped around Cindi’s shoulders. Great, Sawyer was in fucking agony, while his brother was fucking the ranch bookkeeper.

Sawyer saw red and changed direction.

Sam’s smile wavered when he spotted Sawyer making a beeline for them like a nuclear torpedo.
 

In a few short steps, Sawyer was in front of his twin. Sam read his intentions, moving away from Cindi, taking her out of the line of fire.
 

Smart brother.

“Saw,” his brother said, as his hands rose in surrender.

“You fucking prick.” Sawyer didn’t bother to say more. He simply clenched his fist and let it fly, punching his brother with more force than he’d ever used against another man in his life.

Sam staggered back a couple paces at the blow, but Sawyer had to hand it to his brother. He didn’t fall or cower. Within seconds, Sam was moving forward, his own fists raised, ready to do battle. “If that’s the way you’re going to play, fucker. Fine. You’re the asshole who won’t listen.”

Sawyer was waiting for him. He’d had too many hours to think of all the retribution his brother had coming to him. When Sam tried to reciprocate with a hard right, Sawyer was ready. He dodged the blow and followed up with a quick jab at Sam’s stomach. He was about to throw another punch at his brother’s face when a mass of red hair appeared between them.

Leah, the foolish woman, had thrown herself right smack dab in the middle of the brawl. Looking around, he noticed Cindi had done the same thing, saw her slim back as she shoved at Sam’s chest, pushing him away.

Sawyer started after his brother, but Leah’s hands landed on his shoulders.
 

“Stop!” she shouted.

He grasped her waist and lifted her out of his way with ease. “Dammit, Leah. You’re going to get hurt.” Sam had broken free of Cindi as well and was about to return to the brawl when a stronger hand landed on Sawyer’s arm, keeping him from advancing on his twin.

Before he could shrug it off, he found himself spinning to face Seth. He grinned angrily.
Fuck it.
He didn’t care which brother he pummeled. As far as he was concerned, Seth was as guilty as Sam.

He pushed Seth hard, the force of his action an invitation for more.

“God dammit,” Seth yelled, his fists hanging by his sides. “You can’t handle a piece of this, cub.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”

“Sawyer, please.” Leah tugged on the waistband of his jeans, but lost her grip when he twisted, his focus solely set on pummeling one or all of his brothers. From the corner of his eye, he saw Silas rushing from the barn, walking far too fast for his injured leg, his limp painfully pronounced despite the fact he was using his cane. Colby was trying to hold Sawyer’s oldest brother back, but Silas wouldn’t be deterred.

“Please, Sawyer,” Leah said. “Stop this now before someone gets hurt.”

“That’s sort of my plan here, baby. Someone’s gonna feel some pain, and I don’t give a shit who it is.”

Seth took a step closer and Sawyer urged him on, taunting him. “Come on, brother. Take a swing if you think you’re man enough.”

“Don’t you dare,” a pretty brunette said from behind Seth before grabbing a handful of his brother’s shirttail.

“He’s asking for it, Jody,” Seth said.

He could hear Sam arguing with Cindi and knew his brother was itching to get some of his own in the battle. Sawyer had connected with two solid blows, while Sam had yet to land one.

Sawyer stood in front of his family’s house and glanced from Seth to Silas to Sam, wondering which man would make it to him first. Didn’t matter who. Sawyer fully intended to be the last man standing in the brawl.

“Enough!”

All the arguing ceased at JD’s deep command.
 

Sawyer froze, and then he forced himself to look toward the front porch where his father stood. All the air left his body in a pained whoosh when he saw the image of his larger-than-life dad shrunken with disease. A thousand punches from his brothers’ hard knuckles wouldn’t hurt as much as seeing his dad brought down by cancer. He’d gotten KO’d after all.
 

“Pa,” he whispered. His throat closed up. His chest rose and fell heavily as he struggled to get a deep breath. Agony ripped through him like shards of glass, shredding everything in its path.

Before JD could reply, Vicky appeared at the front door. When she spotted him, she squealed with delight and raced down the steps to embrace him tightly. “Sawyer!”

Sawyer wrapped his arms around his mother, numb to her hug as his gaze never left JD’s face. There were deep lines, etched by pain, and his color seemed almost unnatural. His father’s broad build had been reduced greatly and Sawyer suspected JD had lost at least forty pounds since the last time he’d been home.
 

Sawyer’s insides were raw, his eyes gritty with unshed tears. He was equal parts anger and agony, unsure which end was up. He felt like he was dangling by his feet from a bridge, not sure whether to struggle to survive or to simply let go.

Vicky gave him one more squeeze, and then released him. “It’s so good to have you home, Sawyer. All my boys. Here at last.”
 

He glanced down at the slight tremor in his mother’s voice. She had an indomitable spirit, but he could see the toll the last few months had taken on her too.

“It’s good to be back, Ma.”

She smiled, though it didn’t mask the sadness in her eyes.
 

Then Vicky’s gaze traveled to his left. “Hello, Leah, dear. We missed you at the last Ladies Auxiliary meeting at the fire hall.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. I had a parent-conference meeting that ran long.”
 

Guilt suffused Sawyer as he glanced at her. Leah’s face was red from trying to break up the fight, and it was clear she was uncertain of her place. Sam was right. He
was
an asshole.

His mom was kind enough not to notice. “No problem. I signed you up to help me in the kitchen at the yard party if that’s okay.”

“Sure, Mrs. Compton. I’d like that.”

Vicky’s smile grew, and she shook her head. “Good heavens, girl. How many times have I told you to call me Vicky?”

Leah shrugged good-naturedly, but didn’t reply.
 

JD cleared his throat. “Welcome home, son.”

Sawyer took a steadying breath, and then headed toward the porch. When he hit the top of the stairs, his father was there, relying on the support of a walker to remain upright. Sawyer tried to ignore the fucking thing, refusing to believe his father needed it.
 

JD reached over the walker and wrapped him in a surprisingly strong embrace. His hard hands slapped at Sawyer’s back, and he grinned. No matter how much his father’s physical appearance had changed, his old man could still give the toughest man-hugs in history.

“I’m here to stay.”

His father’s face darkened. “Not because of me—”

Sawyer shook his head. “No. I’m done with the Coast Guard.”

“Thought you were going to be a rescue swimmer?”

Sawyer shrugged. That had been the plan. In fact, he’d spent eight weeks at sea training for a position he couldn’t accept. “I’m coming home. I’ve missed this ranch.”

JD looked like he might argue, but looked away from Sawyer to glance at Leah. “I see.”

Damn old man. He never missed anything. Sawyer was grateful at least that hadn’t changed, but he wondered how he would explain his relationship with Leah to his family. His father was obviously aware of part of what had solidified his decision to return to Wyoming, but Sawyer’s mind had been made up before he’d reconnected with Leah in L.A.
 

“Thought you were hell bent on a life at sea?”

“I was.” Sawyer hadn’t told anyone—not even Leah—the real reason for his resignation from the Coast Guard. “There was an incident.”

JD narrowed his eyes.
 

Vicky climbed the steps to stand beside them. “Sawyer? What happened?”

He swallowed heavily, wondering how he could explain. “We went on a rescue call a few weeks ago. A man fell overboard while he was on an excursion with his family. He hit his head on the way down. My ship was close. Call came through and we were there in minutes. I went into the water to fish him out.”
 

Sawyer had arrived too late. When he’d gotten the man’s body on board, his captain had been there to break the news of his death to the family. It wasn’t Sawyer’s first time witnessing such a sad occurrence, but the man had a young son—only eleven years old. Sawyer had seen the boy’s face when he realized his father was dead. Whether it was an odd coincidence or an omen of things to come, Sawyer hadn’t been able to erase that boy’s response—the bleakness, the sheer agony—from his mind. The event had made him long for JD, for his brothers, for time.
 

The memory of the boy’s eyes had jerked Sawyer out of a sound sleep too many nights, trembling with a cold sweat. Sawyer suspected he’d see those same eyes if he looked in the mirror right now.
 

 
“The man didn’t make it. I realized I wasn’t cut out for that life.”

JD shook his head. “I don’t agree with that assessment and something tells me I got the Reader’s Digest condensed version of that story.”

Sawyer smiled sadly. There was no way he could tell his father exactly what had prompted his return to the ranch. Not now. “Honest, JD. That’s all there is to tell.”

Vicky placed her hand on Sawyer’s face. “You’re a young man, Sawyer. Only twenty-five. You have plenty of time to find a path that will make you happy in life. I’m glad you came home in the meantime.”

He bent down and kissed his mother’s cheek. He’d missed her more than he could say.

His kiss pleased her, as her smile widened, reaching her eyes this time. “Dinner’s in the oven. Should be ready in about an hour. Why don’t you grab your stuff and take it upstairs? Your room is ready for you. Leah, there’s plenty of food. I hope you’ll join us for supper.”

Leah shook her head. “Oh no. I couldn’t impose. I should get going.” She walked to her car, popping the trunk with her key fob, then she grabbed Sawyer’s duffel.

She wasn’t getting away that easy. Sawyer followed her and took his bag from her. Out of earshot of his family, he leaned toward her. “Don’t go.” He owed her an apology. A big one.

She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. His life was spiraling, plummeting away from him like a runaway train, and the only thing in the world that felt right was her. “Please, Leah.”

“Leah Hollister,” JD hollered from the porch. “Vicky’s made two heaping pans of lasagna. If you don’t stay and eat some of it, I’ll be forced to choke down leftovers for the next three days.”

Sawyer chuckled when his mother put her hands on her hips and feigned an evil glare.

“You love my lasagna, JD Compton, and you know it.”

“You’re right, I do—for a night or two, but merciful heaven, woman, you make enough to feed an army for a month.”

Vicky spun toward the front door, opening the screen before shouting over her shoulder to Leah. “Now you have no choice but to stay. After all, someone has to eat JD’s share since he’ll be getting bread and water. If he’s lucky.”

She went into the house as JD blustered a fake complaint. Leah was right. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Sawyer chuckled.
 

His father rolled his walker toward the door, but he stopped at the threshold. He gave each of his sons a steely-eyed glare. “No more fighting. I may be sick and you may be grown men, but that doesn’t mean I won’t take each and every one of you out to the fencepost for a visit with my belt if you start throwing punches again. I won’t have your mother upset. Understood?”