Nicole Foster - Sawyer's Special Delivery

They carried breakfast into the living room, shoving pillows aside to share the slightly lumpy couch. Sawyer made short work of his bacon and eggs, and while Maya picked at her yogurt and banana, he moved to take a look at the fireplace. There was a stack of wood piled next to it and matches in a jar on the mantle, but he was unsure about what might be blocking the flue.

“It should be okay,” Maya said, answering his silent query. She set her yogurt carton on an end table and drew her feet up, hugging her arms around her knees. “Since we couldn’t always count on having gas or electricity, my parents made sure they at least had the fireplace to fall back on.”

Sawyer didn’t comment but set to work building a fire, and in about fifteen minutes his efforts paid off as the first tentative flames curled up between the chunks of wood.

“Much better,” Maya said when he returned to sit next to her. Sighing, she looked at the flickering fire and wished she could be back at the hospital sleeping close by her son.

“You’re going to need an army to get this place livable,” Sawyer said, interrupting her reverie.

“Hardly. Just a lot of garbage bags.”

“Come on, Maya, I can—”

She held up her hands, fending off his next attempt to convince her she needed his help. “Stop trying to fix everything. Just because I’m on my own doesn’t mean I can’t handle a dirty house. Your mom managed to raise two kids by herself.”

“My mother lived with parents who didn’t disappear into the desert on a whim and who had a staff to take care of her kids and clean the refrigerator. It’s hardly the same.”

“Maybe not, but I’ll survive anyway,” Maya said firmly. She shifted on the couch, laying her head back. “I’ve got to do something about my car first. And then, once Joey and I are settled, I need to look for work. Maybe there’s something at the hospital.”

“Yeah, surely some department there needs an expert in weeds and sticks. Hey, just kidding,” he said, fending off the pillow she threw at him.

Maya didn’t feel like defending her work to him so she just smiled. “Don’t worry, Joey won’t starve.”

His expression turned from teasing to serious. He hesitated a moment, then said, “Joey is lucky to have you. But it’s not going to be easy bringing him up alone.”

“I can’t change that.” Regret, sadness, anger mixed up inside her but she pushed them away. It was too late to cry over what might have been. Any love she’d ever felt for Evan was long dead, and it was very clear he’d never cared enough about her to stick by her when she needed him most.

“Where the hell is Joey’s father?” Sawyer blurted out, then immediately held out a hand in apology. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry that way.”

“You have a better way?” Maya gently teased him. “It’s okay,” she said before he could say anything else. She looked away, plucking at a woolly strand on her sweater, not sure what, if anything, she wanted to tell him. Finally she raised her eyes back to his, deciding it would be better to say something. There would be enough rumors going around as it was.

“We were supposed to get married next month. But that was before he found out I was pregnant. Then he decided he couldn’t handle being a husband and father all at once. So he walked out.”

She didn’t add that Evan at first had accused her of deliberately getting pregnant, then repeated his conviction she was a freak for refusing to take the pill. At one point he’d even questioned whether or not Joey was his. It was then Maya had given up on him, handed him back his ring and later gotten him to legally give up any and all parental rights, which he’d been only too happy to do after insisting he never wanted to see her or her baby again.

She would never regret that decision—Joey didn’t need a father who resented him and didn’t want him. But she could admit to herself, especially now when her emotions were so close to the surface following Joey’s birth, that the idea of raising a child alone was more than a little daunting.

Something of her feelings must have shown in her face because Sawyer reached out and touched her hand. “You’ll do fine.”

She smiled a little. “I guess he’ll survive me, one way or the other.” Suddenly a wave of tiredness washed over her, and after a glance around the room she leaned back and closed her eyes. “I do wish, though, I could wave a wand and make this all go away. It’s looking like a bigger job all the time.”

“Nothing a bulldozer and a pit couldn’t handle,” he muttered.

“It’s better than nothing. And it is home.”

How anyone could call this “home” was beyond Sawyer. His irritation at the whole situation rose up again, making him angry with her parents for creating this dump, for bringing Maya up this way to begin with and then taking off when she needed them most.

He had to do something about it. He couldn’t let her bring a new baby to this rattrap. Hell, anyone would feel the same way if they took one look at this place. Maybe he should talk to Val and Paul about it, get Val to convince Maya to at least accept help in clearing out this mess.

Sawyer turned to Maya with the idea of trying one more time to get her to see reason. But she’d fallen asleep.

The fire had chased the chill from the room and the warmth had put a slight flush on her cheeks. Her lips slightly parted, her breathing slow and even, she’d curled up, hugging her arms around her knees. Without thinking, Sawyer reached out and gently brushed an errant strand of hair from her face, his fingertips just skimming her skin. The bare touch of her tempted him to linger, to explore the soft curves and planes of her face.

It was a temptation he couldn’t afford to indulge, not even for a stolen moment. Drawing back, he laid his head back against the couch, distracting himself from thoughts of touching with ideas for helping her.

It had been a long week and, despite the coffee, he could feel the string of nights with little sleep catching up with him. He closed his eyes and told himself he’d rest for just a minute or two. A minute or two and then he’d head home and get some real sleep.

A pounding in his head jerked Sawyer awake. He instinctively started up thinking it was an alarm, until he realized he wasn’t in his bunk at the station but still sitting in the middle of the Rainbow living room, propped in a corner of the couch, with Maya sleeping snuggled against his side, his arm around her.

The feel of her pressed close to him was more disconcerting than being jolted awake. He didn’t want to examine the weird combination of uneasiness and intimacy he was feeling, and the banging again, more insistent this time, gave him an excuse to ignore the sensations.

Someone was at the door and, from the sound of it, not going away anytime soon. Moving slowly, Sawyer tried to get up without waking Maya, but she sighed and made a little protesting sound when he eased her away from him and then opened her eyes enough to look at him.

“What—what’s the matter?” she said, rubbing at her eyes as she straightened. “Did I fall asleep?”

“We both did, and now someone’s trying to knock your door down. Stay here,” he said. “I’ll get it.”

Sawyer almost groaned when he glanced out the window and saw Valerie. She stood on the front porch, three enormous bags at her feet, her hand raised as if she was about to start the pounding again. He seriously considered not answering the door, but with his truck in the driveway advertising he was there, leaving Val on the doorstep would only feed her already overactive imagination.

“The door’s not going to be able to stand much more abuse,” he said as he opened it to her.

“And hello to you, too. What’s the matter, not enough caffeine this morning?” Val studied him for a moment, then glanced at her watch. “Ten minutes. Interesting.”

“Not,” Sawyer said flatly. “So don’t go imagining something that never happened.” The last thing Maya needed right now was more gossip about her.

Val laughed as she picked up one of the bags. “Why, Sawyer, I don’t need to imagine anything. Your face says it all.” And with a wink she walked around him and into the house.

Hearing Val’s voice, Maya scrambled to her feet, her legs still wobbly with sleep, and attempted to straighten her hopelessly wrinkled sweater and smooth her hair, then gave up, figuring she was only making her appearance worse.

A moment later Val came inside, followed by Sawyer carrying three overstuffed grocery bags. Maya avoided looking anywhere near his direction. The scent of him, clean and masculine, lingered on her and she wondered just how close they’d been sleeping. He’d been on his feet by the time she’d fully awakened, but Maya had a vague memory of his solid warmth pressed against her body as she slept. For some reason she felt vaguely guilty, as if she were a teenager caught by her parents making out with her boyfriend. Of course, her parents would have just smiled and told her to carry on. And besides, she and Sawyer hadn’t done anything naughty enough to inspire even a raised eyebrow.

And Val knew she’d just had a baby. Surely she wouldn’t imagine Maya being up to much more than heavy napping. Although the slightly amused smile on Val’s face coupled with Sawyer’s obvious discomfort made Maya squirm.

“What’s all this?” she asked quickly. “Here, let me help.”

“Hands off,” Val said. “You don’t need to be lifting anything heavy. It’s just a few basics to help you set up housekeeping.” She stopped and looked around. “Madre de Dios, this is worse than I imagined. I don’t even want to see the bathroom.”

Sawyer shifted the bags in his arms. “Good, I have an ally.”

“Val, don’t you need to put those down? In the kitchen? And you,” Maya said, glaring in his direction, “let’s not have this conversation again.”

“Sure, not a problem,” he said with an infuriating smirk. “But two against one, you’re gonna lose.”

“If he’s talking about the state of this house, he’s right,” Val said. When Maya started to protest, Val held up a hand. “I’m sorry, I like your parents. I don’t understand them, but to each his own. But this is just plain bad.” Val planted her palms on her hips. “You’re coming home with me.”

Sawyer came back from setting down the groceries and stood in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the jamb, with every appearance of enjoying himself.

The smirk was still there but Maya decided to ignore him. Right now she had a well-meaning but misguided friend to contend with. “I know you’re only trying to help, but—” She saw the line of her friend’s jaw tighten as Val gritted her teeth.

“But nothing. You were just in a serious car accident and you have a newborn baby, a tiny premature baby, to think of. He’s fragile, Maya. If you bring him home to this…this dump, who knows what he might catch.”

Val almost succeeded in making Maya feel guilty. Almost. “You’re exaggerating just a bit, don’t you think?” She stepped closer to Val, laid a gentle hand on her arm. “I’m feeling better already. I plan to clean things up before Joey’s released from the hospital. It’ll be okay, really.”

“Feeling better?” Val rolled her eyes. “Right. That’s why you were dead asleep on the couch when I got here. I’ve had three kids honey, I know what you’re feeling like right now and better isn’t on the list.”

“See how sensible she’s being,” Sawyer said, smiling when Maya answered him with a glower.