Lost and Found

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Hours later, Lillian adjusted the material around her neck. "You know, I've really begun to loath slings, Sawyer," she frowned, "almost as much as I hate parsnips."

Sawyer kissed her lips and teased, "At least this time, you won't have to wear it as long, only a week or two, and you can burn it. Although, with as often as you've been hurting that arm of yours... "

"Very funny," She muttered, biting back a smile, "Paul and Kitty are sleeping?"

He yawned and sat down on the bed, "Yes, I checked on them after showing Doc out." He stretched out next to her and crossed his ankles, "I don't know if he'll ever forgive me for draggin' him out of bed so late at night." Sighing, he stretched his arms out over his head, "He sure is getting' ornery in his old age."

Lillian laughed, "You did pull your gun on him. If it had been you in his place, you'd be angry too."

Sawyer turned on his side and trailed his fingers against the back of her hand. "He wasn't moving fast enough for my likin'," He mumbled crossly, "and despite how he irritates me, he should've known I wouldn't shoot him."

She rolled to face him. "I am sorry for not telling you—" she swallowed, reaching up to touch his lips with her fingers, "I could have stopped all of this from happening if I had told you."

Sawyer sighed, remember back to just hours ago when after he'd brought her in from the barn, one of the first things she'd confessed was that of Walker approaching her in town two weeks before leaving on the cattle drive.

To say he was stunned speechless was an understatement. After helping Lillian change out of her ruined and soiled clothing, he quietly made sure she was comfortable, gave her a quick kiss, and left with the excuse of going to get Doc.

The cold night air did little to clear his mind as he walked to where Freddie was digging the grave. Not wanting his friend to see his distress, Sawyer stopped and stared at the sky, taking a deep breath to calm the hurt and anger churning in his gut.

She'd known Walker was alive and nearby, and she hadn't told him. Why? Why did she find it so hard to trust him? Did she still not understand how much he loved her?

What else could he do to earn her trust, to get her to stop keeping important things from him? If not for John's conversation he overheard, he'd never have known—not until it was too late.

She would have been killed, possibly even the children, and there would have been nothing he could have done about it. The image of coming home to such a scene nearly dropped him to his knees in anguish.

Taking a deep breath, Sawyer continued toward Freddie, "I'm gonna go get Doc so he can fix Lily up before I bring the kids home."

Freddie studied Sawyer for a quiet moment, "You alright?"

Sawyer clenched his jaw and scratched his head, "I'm tryin' to be." Pushing aside his disquiet, he grabbed Freddie by the shoulder, "Thank you."

Freddie gave a lopsided shrug, "We're family. You'd do it for me."

"All the same... thank you."

"You're welcome," Freddie said, patting Sawyer on the shoulder, "What do you think of the location I chose for this filth?"

Sawyer frowned and took his first real look at where he stood. "The old privy hole?"

Freddie nodded, biting back a smile.

A reluctant grin tugged at the corner of Sawyer's mouth before fading away. Emotion clogged his throat and tears stung his eyes when he murmured, "I couldn't have chosen a more fitting place to bury the scum if I'd tried."