known these children for two days now, and everything before that was darkness. They seemed to know him well enough. Just like everyone else around here. Ranch hands, his uncle, doctors...they all called him Sawyer, which was his name, apparently, except for these little cuties. His heart softened just looking at them... They called him Daddy.
Sawyer couldn’t tell them apart. Lloyd told him that they were named Elizabeth and Isabella, or Lizzie and Bella for short. And they adored him and relied on him. They clambered into his lap, played with his shirt pockets and carried him a fresh diaper when they needed a change. The first time they’d done that, he’d been stunned, but Lloyd had assured him that this was his job. He was their dad, after all. And apparently, Lloyd wasn’t keen on diaper duty.
There wasn’t a mother in the picture. Sawyer had asked about that, and Lloyd had filled him in that his wife had died in childbirth. He didn’t remember his wife. Lloyd had dug out a wedding album, and he’d seen smiling people he didn’t recognize. Even the groom seemed like a stranger to him. The bride didn’t ring any bells, either. But she was pretty, and he knew he must have loved her by the look on his face in those pictures.
Lloyd and the young woman started walking toward him again. She was pretty, too, but in a different way from the bride in the photos. Olivia—wasn’t that what Lloyd had called her? She was relaxed, wearing jeans over the tops of her boots, and a blouse with a leather jacket on top of it all. Her hair was loose and curly, a dark blond color, and when her gaze met his, he noted the dark brown of her eyes.
“So, Olivia is going to stay with us for a few days,” Lloyd said as they approached.
“Oh, yeah?” Sawyer raised an eyebrow.
“I understand that you don’t remember me, but I’m—” Olivia swallowed, her gaze moving down to the toddler at his knees, then snapping back up to his face. “I’m your friend. We’ve got quite a history, and I was actually coming back to town to see you. So, if I can help out, I want to. I mean, if you’d be comfortable with me here...”
Sawyer shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
There was something about her—something almost comforting—that tickled in the back of his mind. But even without that, he understood why Lloyd wanted her to stay. Sawyer knew that he was in the way here at the house, on the ranch...everywhere. Lloyd was antsy, and he had other things he’d rather be doing than babysitting some confused cowboy who didn’t know his boots from his teakettle.
But I’m a cowboy, he thought to himself. Lloyd had told him that, and it felt right, somehow.
“I’ve got to get back out to the fields,” Lloyd said. “And Olivia can help with the girls.”
“Yeah, that would be great...” Sawyer didn’t mean to sound quite so relieved, but he was in over his head with Lizzie and Bella. He might be their dad, but that biological fact didn’t seem to be much help right now. “Look, I don’t remember anything...you included.”
“Lloyd filled me in,” she replied. “But your injury isn’t supposed to be permanent, so maybe while I’m here, I can help you remember a few things.”
“Did you know their mother?” he asked, glancing down at the toddlers.
“I was Mia’s best friend,” she said with a sad smile. “And yours, once upon a time. We three were inseparable there for a while. I was a bridesmaid at your wedding.”
“Oh.” He nodded. “I saw the photos, but you probably look different out of that frilly dress.”
“Yeah, I would.” She smiled.
So maybe she’d be an authoritative source for information. “Okay. You sure you don’t have better things to do?”
“Not really.” She shrugged. “You wouldn’t remember my brother, Brian, but he’s the only family I’ve got in town, so...”
“So, we’re settled then?” Lloyd interrupted, glancing at his watch. “Because if I could get out to the fields and pitch in tonight, it would make it easier on the rest of the guys.”
“Yes,” Olivia said, shooting Lloyd a smile. “Do what you need to do. We’ll be fine.”
“And you’re okay with this, right?” Lloyd asked him.
Sawyer shrugged. “Sure.”
It wasn’t like he remembered any of them right now, anyway. Olivia sounded rather confident, and maybe that was a good thing.
“Okay. Well, I’m going to head out for a couple of hours, and then I’ll come back and check in with you,” Lloyd said. He pulled a piece of paper and the nub of a pencil out of his pocket. He tore off a corner and scribbled on it. “That’s my cell number if you need me.”
“Thanks.” She looked at it, then tucked it into her pocket.
Lloyd gave them both a nod, then headed over to the pickup truck. Was it just him, or did Lloyd look like he was just about running to get out of here? Sawyer wasn’t sure he blamed him.
“I guess that leaves just us,” Sawyer said. “I feel like I should apologize for this.”
“Whatever,” she said. “It isn’t your fault.”
“No, but it’s highly inconvenient,” he replied. “Apparently, I usually work here. A lot of use I am like this.”
“You’re Lloyd’s nephew,” she said with a shake of her head. “You’re family.”
“Right.” He wished that meant more to him right now.
Sawyer scooped up one toddler then looked down at the child attached to his leg. He kept his leg straight, lifting her along with him as he headed back toward the house. The toddler squealed in delight, and he couldn’t help but laugh softly.
“So, one of them is Lizzie, and the other is Bella. I haven’t figured out which is which yet,” he said. “Do you know, by any chance?”
“I last saw your girls when they were newborns,” Olivia replied. “So I’m not much help. Wait—” She reached out toward the toddler in his arms and took her hand. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Lizzie...” the girl whispered. Olivia shot him a grin, and then bent down to the other toddler. “Is your name Bella?”
The other girl grinned impishly. “Lizzie!”
Olivia straightened and laughed softly. “Never mind. I thought I was onto something.”
“I tried that,” he admitted. “And Lloyd says he can’t tell them apart, either. When we figure it out, I’m going to have to mark them somehow.”
“What...like with a permanent marker?” she asked, shooting him a teasing look.
“You’re joking, but it’s not a bad idea,” he countered. “Apparently, I could tell them apart before, but now...” Sadness welled up inside of him, and he tried to push it back. “They say it’ll come back to me. Until it does, a nice B or L on their hands would be helpful.”
Sawyer disentangled the little girl from his leg, and then put his other daughter on the ground next to her. They scampered on ahead.
“Do you remember the accident?” Olivia asked.
“No,” he said. “The first thing I remember is waking up with blood on my face, and riding to the hospital in town. I don’t remember anything before it.”
“Nothing?” she asked, squinting over at him.
He shook his head. “Well, I mean, I remember some funny little things, like which cupboard holds the salt shaker. If I’m not thinking about it, I can go through the motions for some basic chores like washing dishes or making coffee.”
“So, the muscle memories are in there,” she said.
“Seems