Carla Cassidy - Guardian Cowboy

He leaned back. “I never really thought about it much before, but listening to Mac strum his guitar and riding across the pasture on my horse makes me happy. Do you ride?”

“No, I’ve never even been on a horse,” she replied.

“Well, we’re definitely going to have to change that.” Anything else he was going to say was interrupted by Julia Hatfield arriving to take their orders.

For the next twenty minutes they talked about the new menu items Mandy had added since taking over the café and what kinds of food they liked and what they didn’t like.

Tonight Sawyer had ordered a fried-chicken dinner complete with a mound of mashed potatoes and corn. Janis had opted for one of the new items: a turkey and avocado wrap with fries on the side.

As they ate, he entertained her with more stories about the men he not only worked with but had also grown up with, and of Big Cass who had taken a chance on them all.

“She had a soft side, but she could also be as tough as nails. None of us ever wanted to disappoint her. She gave us all respect when most of us had never had it and she taught us to respect ourselves.”

“I saw her around town once in a while, but I never met her,” Janis replied.

He shook his head and smiled, a soft light in his eyes. “She was something else. It’s hard to believe she’s been gone for almost a year now. She definitely filled a hole inside me that my mother’s death had left behind.”

“You and your mother were close?”

“Very,” he replied. “It was always just her and me against the world. She was beautiful and loving, and pretty much the center of my world. I never doubted how much she loved me.”

“That’s nice,” Janis said wistfully. “I felt that way about my father. I was his princess and he made me feel like the most loved person in the world.”

“But you aren’t close to your mother,” Sawyer said.

“No, I’m not. Tell me more about your mother,” she said in an attempt to deflect the conversation away from her relationship with her mother.

She’d never shared with anyone the fact that her mother had never loved her. That her father’s unconditional and enormous love had never been quite enough to fill the void in Janis’s heart that her mother’s hatred of her had left behind.

As they lingered over coffee, Sawyer told her about growing up poor and with a mother who struggled to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. “We ate ketchup spaghetti and lots of potatoes, and considered it a treat if she managed to buy any kind of meat.”

“Didn’t she qualify for some sort of assistance?” Janis asked.

“I’m sure she did, but she didn’t believe in the government taking care of us. She said as long as she was able-bodied and could work, we’d get by,” he said.

“What kind of work did she do?”

“She cleaned houses. She said it was the best job for her because she could manage her hours so she was always there for me when I got out of school.” Sawyer’s voice was filled with his love for the woman who had given him birth.

“And what kind of a kid were you? Were you good and dutiful or were you ornery?”

“Maybe a little bit of both,” he admitted with a laugh. “I definitely had my share of ornery.”

She smiled at him. It was so easy to envision him as a red-haired little boy with a naughty grin on his face and mischief in his eyes.

She was sorry when their coffee was gone and the night had reached its logical conclusion. It was time for him to take her home.

The night air felt almost balmy compared to what it had been. “Oh, I hope this means spring has really arrived,” she said once she was in the passenger seat.

“All the men at the ranch can’t wait for nicer days. We’ve all been cooped up together for too long during the winter.”

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