Nicole Foster - Sawyer's Special Delivery

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re here and you’re both okay. And I hear it was our finest resident knight in shining armor, Sawyer Morente, who came to your rescue. You remember Sawyer, don’t you?” Valerie prodded. “You know, Mr. Captain of Everything in high school, Air Force hero, the guy with the killer smile?”

“I remember him.” Maya suddenly felt warm and restless. The memories of the accident, of giving birth, of the moment she first held her son, were as clear as if they’d happened minutes, not days ago. And they evoked the same uncomfortable mix of emotions, somewhere between embarrassment at having to be rescued and to give birth in the back of an ambulance and an odd lingering sense of intimacy with the man who’d safely delivered Joey. Avoiding Valerie’s eyes, she fidgeted with the blanket, reached back to adjust her pillow. “I suppose everyone in town knows what happened by now.”

“Well, it hasn’t been in the newspaper yet,” Valerie said, then laughed when Maya shot her a wide-eyed look somewhere between horror and disbelief. “Paul is a firefighter. He and Sawyer work the same shift most of the time. So—”

“So everyone knows I’m not married and that Sawyer delivered my baby on the side of the road. And next week it probably will be in the paper,” Maya muttered.

“It’s not that bad. I’m sure there are at least a few people who don’t know what happened,” Valerie said with a wink. “Oh, I almost forgot. These are for you.” She reached over to the bedside table and tugged forward a plastic pitcher filled with an eclectic mix of brightly colored wildflowers. “I caught Sawyer bringing these to you when I was on my way up to see you. He didn’t want to wake you, so I offered to deliver them for him. Sorry about using your water pitcher but it was all I could find.”

“Sawyer? Brought these?” Maya almost couldn’t believe her ears. Sawyer Morente had brought her flowers? The most drop-dead gorgeous guy in town, every girl’s idea of the perfect romance hero, had picked wildflowers for the hippie girl no one ever wanted to be seen with? Don’t make more of it than it is. “I suppose it isn’t every day he delivers a baby by himself in a thunderstorm,” she murmured as much to herself as Val.

“No, but it figures it was Sawyer. Paul calls him Zorro because he always seems to be the one riding to the rescue whenever someone’s in trouble around here. Although…” Val turned thoughtful. “Paul said delivering Joey seemed to really affect Sawyer. Maybe it’s because he understands what it’s like.”

“You lost me,” Maya said.

Shrugging, Val didn’t quite meet Maya’s eyes. “I guess you don’t remember hearing the gossip, but Sawyer’s father abandoned him and his brother when Sawyer was about seven. He completely cut those two boys out of his life. He never acknowledged they existed ever again, even though he still lives less than fifteen miles from them.”

An odd ache touched Maya, hurting her heart and burning her eyes with unshed tears. Whether for Sawyer’s loss or her and Joey’s, she didn’t know, but she felt like crying, giving in to the sadness that had shadowed her since Joey’s birth.

To distract herself Maya brushed a finger over a daisy, breathed in the fresh scents of lavender and sage. “I guess he thought wildflowers would suit me better than roses,” she mused, still wondering at his gesture. “They do remind me of home.”

“You are home now,” Valerie said firmly. “And you’re not alone, no matter how much it might feel that way sometimes.”

Tears rushed to Maya’s eyes. “Thanks Val,” she said, reaching for her friend’s hand. “I know we’re going to be fine. I just need to get out of here and get settled at Mom and Dad’s for a while.”

“If you can call staying at your parents’ place ‘settled.’ They haven’t changed much.”

“Changed from tie-dye to spandex and back again, but finding the next Grateful Dead concert is still their top priority.” Maya sighed. “Maybe it’s better they’ve taken off again. If they were here, I’d have three kids to keep up with.”

“Well, don’t you worry, Paul and I are here to help. And then there’s Sawyer…”

“Oh, no—” Maya held up her hands “—don’t even go there. He was only concerned about Joey. Like you said, he can sympathize. End of story.”

“Oh, right, that’s why he brought Joey flowers. I’m sure at three days old he’ll really appreciate them. Yikes, look at the time. I hate to run mi amiga, but Paul’s shift starts soon and I need to get home to the kids before he goes.”

“Thanks so much for coming,” Maya said, returning Valerie’s quick hug. “I can’t tell you what it means to me.”

“Then don’t, just invite me over when you break out of this place.”

“You’re on.”

“Catch you soon.” With a wave Val left.

The room felt cold and empty without her friend. Despite Val’s comforting words, Maya had trouble shaking a sense of utter loneliness, although she guessed that would pass once she and Joey were out of the hospital and the drama of the last few days was a distant memory.

She reached out and touched the soft petals of a daisy once more and suddenly her whole being ached to be with her new baby. Moving carefully, she swung her legs out of her bed, grabbed a robe and headed down the hallway to the nursery.

Sawyer slammed the door of his truck and strode across the parking lot of Firehouse No. 1. The bee sting on his hand was annoying him. He turned his wrist over to look at the red swell. “Morente, you’re a freakin’ fool,” he muttered under his breath.

What had he been thinking? Picking wildflowers for that girl—woman and mother now, he reminded himself. Maya Rainbow wasn’t a scrawny kid anymore. Even bruised and disheveled and swollen with child, Sawyer had thought she was beautiful, so different from the pale girl with eyes too big for her face he remembered.

After three days he hadn’t been able to shake the image of her struggling to hide her pain and fear, determined to bring her son safely into the world and to care for him alone. Those big green eyes seemed to hide lifetimes in them.

It was those eyes and the way she’d looked at him the other night when she’d told him Joey had no father, coupled with the miracle of her little boy, that had messed with his mind so much, he’d wound up in the middle of some field on the side of the road, picking wildflowers and getting stung by that damned bee.

As he yanked open the door to the station, he thanked the guardian angel of masculine pride that one of his buddies inside hadn’t driven by and seen him with a handful of daisies.

Sawyer strode straight to the coffeepot and poured himself a mug, wishing it were a double espresso instead of Paul Ortiz’s “lite” coffee. He needed to clear his head and he needed a jolt of caffeine to wake him up. He’d hardly slept since Maya’s accident; the whole night kept turning over and over in his mind like a movie stuck on replay. Why that night, that accident, that birth should be any different from any of the others he’d dealt with over the years, he couldn’t figure.

Lost in thought, he didn’t hear Paul come into the kitchen until a slap on his shoulder nearly caused him to drop his coffee mug.

“Wildflowers, Sawyer? Wildflowers?”

Cursing under his breath, Sawyer refilled his mug to avoid Paul’s smirk. “If Valerie wasn’t your wife, I’d put a muzzle on that woman.”

“Don’t worry, your little secret is safe with me,” Paul said, laughing. A few inches shorter and broader than Sawyer, his dark eyes seemed always to reflect a smile. “A little above and beyond the call of duty, though, wouldn’t you say?”

“The kid could have died,” Sawyer said, wondering why he bothered trying to explain himself. “They both could have. I— I just thought she needed a boost, you know, something to remind her it’ll get better.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you. I never figured you for the sensitive type.”

“Go jump,” Sawyer muttered. Taking his coffee, he headed for his office with the idea of locking himself in. Unfortunately Paul followed. Paul was a great guy, the kind of guy you’d want watching your back when it counted. But he was also the type of guy who didn’t know when a joke was old.

“I’ll bet the next time you visit her, she’ll have the flowers in her hair,” Paul teased.

“I’m not going back. I saw the kid and he’s doing fine. That’s all I needed to know.”

“Sure, that’s what you say now.” Paul said, leaning against the door to Sawyer’s office. “But Val and I already have money on it. Once you see that dump of a house Maya’s moving into, you’ll be over there with a hammer and a paintbrush all ready to remodel the Rainbow love shack. We all know you can’t resist riding to the rescue. Besides, from what Val says, your damsel in distress has grown up rather nicely.”

“She’s not mine,” he said, then, unable to stop himself, he added, “So she really is going to move back to that rattrap of her parents’?” She’d told him so the night of her accident, but he’d put it out of his mind, half hoping she’d change her mind before the hospital discharged her and her baby.

“Val says so. Man, I remember that party we went to at the love shack right before graduation. The incense was so thick, my throat hurt for days.”

Sawyer remembered he’d been glad to get out of the Rainbow residence before he caught something. He also remembered Maya, a thin girl with tousled hair, sitting against the railings of the upstairs loft, gazing down at the strange mix of revelers with a solemn look as her parents called and waved up to her, trying to get her to join the party.

“Her parents were something. They still are, from what I’ve seen,” Paul mused. “I guess it shouldn’t surprise anyone, Maya coming home the way she did.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Sawyer said more sharply than he intended.

Paul held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, you’re pretty quick to defend someone you plan on never seeing again.” He grinned at Sawyer’s glare. “I didn’t mean to insult your flower child. It’s just her parents were never married and everyone knows they basically raised Maya in a commune. Val says half the time they’d take off on that banged up Harley of theirs and leave her with whomever happened to be staying at their house at the time.”

“She told me they’re gone again,” Sawyer said.

“Yeah, and Cat said Maya’s doctor plans to release her tomorrow. So, just in case you want to drop by the old love shack…”

“Why, so you’ll win the bet with Val? Wait a minute. If you two are so sure what my next move is, what’s there to bet on?”

“That’s for us to know and you to figure out.”

Sawyer began sorting through the pile of paperwork on his desk, ignoring Paul’s attempt to bait him. “Don’t count on my losing any sleep trying.”

“What, you sleep?” Cort, in his usual jeans and battered leather jacket, was standing in the doorway. He walked around Paul, greeting the other man before dropping down into the chair beside Sawyer’s desk. “That’s not what I hear.”

“Superheroes don’t need the rest we mere mortals do,” Paul said, laughing. “I’ll let you annoy him for a while. I’ve done my duty for the day. Oh—” he leaned back around the door before leaving “—don’t forget to ask him about his flower girl.”

“Now my morning’s complete,” Sawyer said. He rubbed at his temple, really wishing he had that espresso.