Firefly Hollow (11 page)

Chapter Sixteen

O
WEN WAS NERVOUS. IT HAD been nine days since he’d last been to the library, and he was almost afraid to go back and see Sarah again. What if she hadn’t read the books? Perhaps more threatening to his peace of mind, Owen wondered what it would mean if she had. On top of that, he castigated himself for including one of his own titles in the list.

“What are you going to do if she read it and didn’t like it?” he asked himself on the drive to town. He’d asked the question a hundred times in the last few days and was still no closer to an answer than he’d been the first time he’d wondered.

He was in between projects and had decided to take a little time off to do some genealogical research. Writing and illustrating his books was a passion, but researching lineages was something almost as important, satisfying another need. Ever since he’d learned the truth about himself, he’d been determined to find out where shifting originated. He’d discovered that his family wasn’t alone in the special gifts they had, and that the gifts hidden from sight by ordinary people were as varied as the people who bore them.

Shirley had let him know on his previous visit that the library was expecting several boxes of new material. He’d called that morning to see if they had arrived, and when Shirley confirmed they had, Owen was as gleeful as a kid in a candy store.

“I guess this means we’ll be seeing you today,” she remarked. He could hear the smile in her voice.

“You guess correctly,” he assured her.

Torn between his excitement over having new records to peruse and his trepidation at seeing Sarah, Owen parked in the pay lot near the library. He checked his leather satchel before he got out, making sure the paper and sharpened pencils inside were secure. To get to the library, he had to walk past the insurance agency where Sarah’s would-be beau worked. Owen stayed on alert as he went past the building, but saw no sign of the other man.

Heart pounding with anticipation by the time he reached the library, he took a minute to compose himself before going inside. When he reached the front desk and saw only Shirley and Callie working, the moment was rather anticlimactic.

Shirley greeted him with a knowing smile. “You were expecting someone else, I presume?”

Owen felt his face heat, and he gave an abashed shrug. “Maybe. I’m still happy to see you, though. How are you?” He gave her the books he was returning and leaned against the desk.

“I’m fine, sweetie. And you?”

“Well enough, I guess. So tell me about this new collection. Is it as good as you thought it would be?”

They chatted for several minutes about the new genealogy information. Owen was getting ready to go upstairs and start his research when he heard an exasperated sigh coming from the bookcases behind him. Shirley’s expression tightened, and Owen turned in time to see Sarah emerge, the smarmy insurance agent right behind her.

“Sarah, sweetheart—” the man started.

“I am not your sweetheart,” Sarah grated. “For the very last time, Tony, leave me alone.”

Owen felt himself go hot and then cold all over, and he straightened away from the desk, fully intending to lend assistance. He never made the first step, though.

As he watched, Tony reached out to touch Sarah’s shoulder. Sarah’s elbow flew back, making solid contact with the other man’s midsection if the grunt he emitted was any indication. The hardback book in her hand flew up to connect with Tony’s chin as he bent over from the first impact. The momentum of her move sent him to the floor, where he lay groaning in pain. His hands flew up to his mouth, where he’d apparently bitten his tongue when Sarah hit him with the book.

“Oh, no! Tony, are you okay? I am so clumsy. This sort of thing happens to me all the time,” Sarah said, standing over the injured man. To Owen’s utter astonishment, and not slight satisfaction, as she bent over the insurance agent, she managed to drop three of the books she’d been carrying… right on Tony’s groin. The man’s face, already red from the encounter, turned positively purple.

A laugh, hastily disguised as a cough, sounded from behind him, and Shirley rushed around the counter to where Sarah stood. She quickly took possession of the remaining book, which Owen thought was hovering quite ominously over the whimpering Tony.

She drew Sarah back a few steps. “Oh, this is an unfortunate accident. Sarah, I think you’re overset. Why don’t you take a break? I’ll take care of Tony.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Without glancing at the front desk, Sarah fled toward the back of the library.

Shirley helped Tony sit up and inspected the damage to his chin. “Oh, I think you’ll survive. But I don’t want to see you back in here pestering that girl again. Because if you are, I’ll call Gibson up at the insurance agency. He’ll not be pleased when I’m finished enlightening him. Do you understand my meaning, Mr. DeWitt?”

With a sullen “Yes, ma’am,” Tony managed to get to his feet. He didn’t look back as he hobbled out the door, wincing with every step. Shirley, Callie, and Owen watched him go, not speaking until the door closed behind him.

Shirley came back to the desk, one of the books Sarah had used so effectively in her hand. “Not one word of comment,” she told a highly amused Callie. Blood stained the corner of the cover, with some soaked into the pages. “Well, that’s ruined. Get the information off this and then dispose of it for me. We’ll have to order a new copy.”

“I’ll cover the cost, if I may,” Owen said. “That was worth watching.”

Shirley sent him an exasperated look. “I understand why she did it, but I’ll still have to have a word with the girl. Mind you, it might be a word of commendation. Don’t you have some research to be doing?”

Owen saluted her with a smile, greeted Callie, and headed upstairs, certain of three things. One, Sarah wasn’t interested in the least in the insurance agent. Two, she could handle herself well in difficult situation. And three, he never wanted to get on the wrong side of her and a book.

When Sarah returned to the library floor a short while later, she felt calmer, though still a bit humiliated by the whole debacle.

Shirley pulled her aside when she reached the front desk. “Tell me what happened. I didn’t even know he was in here.”

Embarrassed, Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. “I turned around, and he was just there. I figured he’d given up because he hasn’t been back in since I told him I wasn’t interested. Anyhow, he kept getting closer and closer to me, even though I told him to back off. When he touched me, I lost my temper. I’m sorry.”

Shirley held up her hand. “Do not apologize. He had no business touching you, especially with you telling him to leave you alone. And you aren’t in trouble. But I have to caution you against attacking the patrons, otherwise we’ll both hear about it later. With that said, you had every right to defend yourself from unwanted advances. I’m proud of you for the way you handled him, Sarah.” To Sarah’s surprise, the other woman enfolded her in a quick hug. “Now, why don’t you go upstairs and work in the children’s department the rest of the day? Tell Nellie I sent you up there.”

“Thank you, Shirley.”

Taking the rolling cart full of returns for the children’s department with her on the elevator, Sarah let her eyes fall shut as the elevator doors closed. Why, she asked herself, did it always seem like Owen was there to witness every humiliating thing that happened to her? When the elevator dinged, she opened her eyes with a tired sigh. He’d probably run as fast and far as he could after seeing her attack on Tony. At least he’d been the only patron in the library at the time.

“Hey, Nellie. Shirley sent me up,” she told the older lady who ran the children’s department. “Where do you need me?”

The gray-haired grandmother looked at Sarah over her half-glasses. “Looks like you have plenty of books to check back in. Why don’t you start there, and I’ll let you know?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sarah took over an hour to sort through the hundred or so books on the cart. Each one had to be looked up in the file of check-outs, and its card replaced in the paper slot at the back of the book. Sarah noticed that several of the books had hold stickers.

“Nellie, I thought all books with holds on them got these stickers. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?”

“It is. Why?”

“Because I checked a couple of books out a few weeks ago that were supposed to be on hold for someone else. Their cards didn’t have stickers on them. If they had, I wouldn’t have checked out the books. The patron came in looking for the books, and they weren’t here.”

Nellie pursed her lips, and pulled off her glasses, letting them dangle on the delicate chain she wore around her neck. “The patron who had the books reserved wouldn’t happen to be a handsome man, would he?”

“As a matter of fact… how did you know that?”

Nellie shook her head. “Because that’s what Callie does. She takes off the tags, and then whatever man has been waiting for the books calls or comes back in to see what the hold up is. She’s determined she’s going to catch her a husband, that girl is. Shameful.”

The idea that Callie had set her cap for Owen didn’t sit well with Sarah. Callie had never made a secret of her admiration of Owen’s looks, but removing the tags on his holds seemed like a somewhat underhanded way of getting his attention.

Nellie stood and straightened her skirt. “It’s time for me to take lunch. You’ve been here long enough that you can handle things.”

Sarah smiled. “If I have any questions, I’ll call downstairs. I promise.”

The older woman handed Sarah a key ring. “This is for the genealogy room. There’s a patron back there now. If he leaves before I get back, which I doubt he’ll do given how long he usually stays, make sure he signs out in the register. Lock the room after he leaves.”

“Okay. Have a good lunch.”

After Nellie disappeared, Sarah started shelving the returned books, enjoying the quiet. With the end of the school year approaching, she knew the peaceful atmosphere was something that wouldn’t last much longer. Shirley had warned her that the library became much more active in the summer months. Children, especially those living in town, came to the facility in droves.

As she turned the corner with the cart, Sarah looked in the direction of the genealogy room. Owen was exiting, walking toward her with a distracted frown, as though he were trying to puzzle something out. When he saw her, he slowed.

“Hello.”

“Mr. Campbell,” Sarah said, cringing inside. She thought he had left.

He walked to stand beside her. “Owen.”

“Excuse me?”

“Owen. It’s my name. Mr. Campbell was my father.”

Sarah shelved a book and sent him a non-committal smile. “Okay. Is there anything I can help you with?”

The distracted look came back across his face. “No. I was just taking a break. If you’ll excuse me?”

“Of course.”

He went in the direction of the restrooms, and Sarah realized she was grasping the handle of the cart so tightly, her knuckles were white. She forced a laugh and made herself loosen her grip. Blowing out a sigh, she moved down the aisle of bookshelves and continued putting up the books.

In a couple of minutes, she heard booted footsteps coming back toward the stacks, and she tensed in anticipation. Sure enough, Owen appeared at the end of the row of bookshelves. With his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans, he ambled toward her. His dark blue plaid dress shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms made his shoulders look a mile wide. Sarah tried to act nonchalant, but her heart was pounding.

“Where’d you learn that trick you used on the insurance agent?”

“Um.” Sarah blinked at him, unsure of how to answer. Should she deny that it was a deliberate attack or answer honestly?

Casually, he picked a book up off the cart and thumbed through it. After a minute, he looked up, an eyebrow raised. “Well?”

Sarah frowned. “That’s a rather forward question, don’t you think?”

Owen shrugged, looking back down at the book in his hands. “No.”

She put her hands on her hips. “You’re assuming I’m not just clumsy. That it wasn’t an accident.”

A small smile lifted the corners of Owen’s mouth, but he didn’t look up. “It isn’t an assumption; it’s a fact. I’ve watched you. You’re not clumsy.”

Completely disconcerted and tired of being toyed with, Sarah said the first thing that came to her mind. “What kind of game are you playing?”

His head jerked up. “I’m not playing any game. I genuinely want to know.”

“Why? Worried I might use that sort of maneuver on you?” Sarah eyed him from head to toes, and back up again. “It’s a distinct possibility.” Moving past him with the cart, she went to the other side of the bookshelf and tried to pretend he hadn’t followed her.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” he said. “I came on a little strong that day at the pool. I’m sorry.”

With a muted groan, Sarah shelved the book she was holding and turned to him. “So you’ve waited this long to apologize? It’s been over a month. Obviously, you weren’t too guilt-stricken.” Smarting as she remembered how cold he’d been that day, she made a dismissive motion with her hand. “Apology accepted. Now, if you don’t need anything, I have to get back to work. You can get back to whatever it is you were doing.”

She walked across the room to the next section of books, hoping he would take the hint. Much to her frustration, he didn’t. Instead, he shelved the book he held—in its proper place, she noted—and followed.

“It’s genealogy,” he said as he came to a stop a few feet away. Hands back in his pockets, he leaned against the wall and watched her finish putting the books away. “What I’ve been doing. I really am sorry about the way I acted that day. You startled me, and I didn’t respond very well.”