Firefly Hollow (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

T
HE ENTIRE WALK HOME, SARAH struggled with her emotions. She was hurt that Owen hadn’t trusted her sooner with the truth about his being a writer, but she understood why he hadn’t, given what he’d told her about his father. That said, she wondered if he really would have told her or not. That doubt, that question, raced through her mind. Even though he’d said all the right things, she would need some time to get back to completely trusting him again.

Another thing that weighed heavily on her mind was Owen’s reluctance to tell her what else he was hiding. If she hadn’t almost been able to feel his pain, she would have pushed harder to get him to talk. As it was, her instincts were telling her she’d end up pushing him further away if she persisted.

When she got home, she was immensely relieved to find her mother there. She greeted Eliza, then went to the phone to call Owen. He answered on the first ring.

“It’s Sarah. I’m home.”

“Thanks for calling and letting me know. Sarah, I… I’m sorry, about everything.” He sounded so tense and tired and so very alone, that it was all Sarah could do to not cry out.

“We’ll talk soon. Bye, Owen.” Moving slowly and carefully, as if she would break if she made any sudden moves, she replaced the receiver in its cradle.

“Everything okay?” Eliza asked.

Sarah shook her head. “I don’t think it is, Mama. I really don’t think so.”

Some time later, sarah and Eliza sat on the back porch, sipping hot cocoa. Eliza had already let Sarah cry on her shoulder. Now that Sarah was calm enough to talk, she told Eliza a little bit of what had happened.

“I found out something he’d been keeping from me. It’s not bad,” she rushed to assure her mother. “He’s not married, doesn’t have kids. It isn’t anything like that. But I’m hurt that he didn’t tell me. I kind of stumbled on it, to tell the truth. And it makes me wonder what else he’s keeping from me. How much he trusts me, if he trusts me.”

Eliza brushed a hand over Sarah’s hair. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish I knew what to tell you, but that’s something the two of you are going to have to work out.”

“I know. I just… I want so much to be with him. It feels right to be with him, Mama. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. And it isn’t only that he’s attractive,” she said, blushing. “Though he is. But he makes me laugh, and he makes me feel safe, and I want to make him smile. He doesn’t smile enough. Now, though, I’m worried he won’t let me close enough to be a part of his life. Not the way I want.”

“Sarah Jane, you’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Utterly miserable, Sarah lifted her gaze to her mother’s. “I think I am.”

Eliza closed her eyes and tightened her arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“There’s nothing to do but wait; I know that. But, God almighty, it’s hard.”

“You know, back when I worked with Owen’s mother, Lucy, at church, I got the feeling from her that he was a very troubled young man. Oh, not the kind of troubled that would make me worry about you dating him,” she hurried to say when Sarah shot her an incredulous look. “It was more that she couldn’t reach him. He was maybe thirteen, fourteen, and she’d sent him to stay with someone. He was having trouble in school, I think. Lucy was absolutely heartbroken. Owen was her favorite child.”

“Do you know what it was that made him like that?” Sarah kept her eyes on her mug as she waited for the answer.

Eliza considered the question for a minute. “I think she said something about his father and that they’d had a falling out. It hurt Owen, and he would never let her in after that.” She looked at her own mug, running a thumb along the rim. “From what I know of Owen, what I’ve seen when he’s here, I’d guess that he shut himself away from everyone. I don’t think he’s used to letting anyone in. He’s probably opened up more to you than to anyone in recent years, sweetheart. That has to be hard for someone like him. I don’t think I’d give up on him yet.”

Sarah felt a small smile coming on. “You think he’s worth fighting for, then?”

“I do. I think he’s a good fit for you, and vice versa. I’d hate to see either of you give up now.”

The forest was damp, the scents of decaying vegetation strong in the air. Fog rolled through the trees like a living thing, and the cold, ethereal atmosphere suited Owen’s mood to a tee. As soon as it was dark, he’d stepped outside and shifted.

For a long time, he just ran—up and down trails, through the brush—welcoming the sting of the branches as they slapped against his face. It was the wolf’s version of the hair shirt, Owen thought, which he very much felt he deserved. Eventually, he found himself at the pool. After getting a long, cold drink, he shook himself and trotted up the path to the top of the boulder. Sitting down, he finally let his pent-up emotions rise to the surface. Anger, grief, guilt—they all warred for dominance within him. They swelled, fighting to get out, to be expressed.

He hadn’t run in so long, the emotions threatened to tear him apart. They started clawing their way out of his throat, first emerging simply as yips and whimpers.

When he couldn’t hold the pain inside any longer, he howled.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

S
ARAH AWOKE AT THE CRACK of dawn on Sunday morning. She had only slept in fits and starts, she was so worried about her relationship with Owen. As if that hadn’t been enough, she kept hearing a wolf howling in the distance. When she rolled over for what felt the hundredth time at five o’clock, she simply gave up. Throwing the covers back in disgust, she got up and pulled on an old sundress. She pulled her hair back into a severe twist, then headed downstairs to the kitchen. She didn’t have to worry about waking up Jack, who had taken their parents’ old room, as he had stayed in town with Gilly and her family. Free to move around the kitchen, she turned on the small radio Jack had gotten them for Christmas, keeping the volume low, and got to work.

By the time her mother came down three hours later, Sarah had started making the yeast dough for rolls. Additionally, the pot roast they were having for dinner was ready to go in the oven, and she had baked two pies and two dozen cookies.

“Sarah, what in the world? How long have you been up?”

With a quick glance at the clock, Sarah shrugged. “Since five or so. Want coffee?” Without waiting for Eliza’s response, she poured a mug and added sugar and cream, just the way her mother liked it. She handed the mug to Eliza with a tense smile and turned back to the dough.

Her mother, still dressed in her nightgown, blew out a breath. “Okay, then. I’ll sit over here at the table and watch you work. What kind of cookies are these?”

“Oatmeal chocolate chip and peanut butter. And the pies are apple and strawberry. Do you think I should make a cake, too?”

Eliza
thunked
her mug down on the table. “How many people are you expecting to feed today? Sweetie, I think you need to take a break. Sit down here with me.”

Sarah braced her hands on the counter. “If I sit down, I’ll start to think. And if I start to think, I don’t know if I can bear the weight of my thoughts, Mama.”

“I understand.” Eliza’s voice was quiet, and when Sarah looked over her shoulder, she saw that her mother was twisting her gold wedding band. “Just don’t wear yourself out too much. The last thing you want to happen is for dinnertime to get here, and you be asleep on the couch.”

Sarah snorted laughter. “Yeah, I don’t think that’d be the best way to kick off his first sit-down with the family. If he even shows up.” She shook herself, stopping the thought in its tracks. “I was thinking about making those noodles Daddy’s cousin, Helga, used to make. What do you think?”

Eliza glanced around the kitchen skeptically. “Well, I think you’ve already made enough food to feed an army. We still need vegetables, but that won’t take any time to do. So, sure. Go ahead and make the noodles. They sound pretty good, I admit. Do you want my help?”

“No. You’ve cooked these big dinners for us all these years. Sit back and relax this time. I’ll let you know if I need anything.” Sarah went back to work, humming along with the song on the radio.

After a few minutes, Eliza got up and topped off her coffee. “I think I’m going to get my Bible and go sit on the porch. Holler if you need me, sweetie.” She gave Sarah a quick hug and kiss, and disappeared into the living room.

By the time Jack and Gilly arrived, most of the food for dinner was ready.

Gilly looked around the kitchen, her eyes wide. “Wow, Sarah. I made a cake last night. Jack kept trying to get a piece of it. Maybe I should have let him,” she said, handing over the glass cake safe to Eliza, who had come into the kitchen with her. “Are you okay?”

“Sure. I… I’m fine.” Sarah glanced over the food, mentally going through the list in her mind. “The corn and beans need to be heated up, the rolls are ready to go in the oven whenever the roast comes out, and the broth for the noodles is on the stove. What am I forgetting?”

“What about tea and lemonade?” Gilly asked.

“Oh, crap!”

“We can take care of that. You need to head upstairs,” Gilly said.

Sarah glanced at the clock and grimaced. “I guess I should probably go get cleaned up. Everyone else will be here soon, and I look like a hot mess.”

“Why don’t you do that?” Eliza took her hand and tugged her in the direction of the stairs. “The last thing you want to happen is for Owen to come in and see you looking like we’ve kept you in here chained to the stove.”

Sarah nodded. “Okay.”

When she started to climb the stairs, she realized how much her feet and lower back hurt. She’d been standing for almost seven hours, but the hard work had done its job. She was too tired to be anxious about whether Owen would make an appearance anymore or not.

Deciding that she had time to take a bath, she filled the claw-foot tub, adding Epsom salts and bubble bath. As she sank into the hot water, she groaned with relief. She dunked under the surface fully, holding her breath until it hurt. When she resurfaced, she drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Head resting against the back of the tub, she closed her eyes.

“Right now, I’ll be happy to get through the day. I hope that isn’t asking too much.”

When Sarah came back downstairs thirty minutes later, dressed in a blue blouse and white capri pants, the house was full of people. She strained to pick Owen’s voice out of the melee, but couldn’t hear him. It was twenty ‘til one, and he should have arrived if he was coming. Masking her disappointment, she hurried into the kitchen.

Kathy, seated at the table with the baby, looked up with amusement clear on her face. “We thought we were going to have to get a wheelbarrow to cart all that food you cooked into the dining room. Surely you’re not nervous about your beau coming over.”

Sarah ignored the remark and stopped to run a gentle finger down the baby’s soft cheek. “Is there anything else we need, Mama?”

Eliza chuckled. “Nothing but our last guest. Oh, you did forget to do mashed potatoes, but we covered that. And the gravy. Speaking of our guest,” she said, looking out the kitchen window, “here he comes. Sarah, let him in?”

All the nerves she thought she’d conquered by working that morning came rushing back into her stomach, and for an instant, Sarah thought she might be sick. Swallowing hard, she hurried out the kitchen door and stood on the porch steps, waiting as Owen crossed the back yard. He looked up when he was a few feet away and stopped dead in his tracks.

Wearing dark pants and a red dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he was so handsome it hurt to look at him. He carried a small book in one hand, and as she watched, he shifted it to the other hand nervously. His expression was guarded, solemn. Sarah pushed open the screen door, and he walked slowly until he was only an arm’s length away.

“Hey,” Sarah said. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

“Hey, yourself. I almost didn’t. I wasn’t sure you would want me here, not after what happened yesterday.”

“I want you here. But I want you to
want
to be here.”

Some of the tension left his face, and he reached up to touch her face. “I do.” He let his hand drop and cleared his throat. “I brought you something. It isn’t much, but I thought you might… anyhow…” He handed her the book.

Sarah gasped. “Owen, how…? This isn’t supposed to be out for another month.” The book was the latest volume of the
Tobias Hedge
series. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, a move Sarah had learned meant he was uncertain, and shrugged. “I wanted to do it.”

Embarrassed by the tears that pricked her eyes, she smiled and ducked her head. “Thank you. Is this a borrow, or may I keep it?” She started to open the book, but he stopped her, putting his hand over hers.

“Don’t open it here. Wait until you’re alone. There’s a letter inside. And it’s yours. Unless you don’t want it,” he said teasingly as he moved as though to take it back.

Sarah tucked the book against her chest. “Oh, no. You’ll have to pry this out of my hands to get it back.”

His smile told her how pleased he was by the statement, and Sarah felt a little more certain of his affections. Taking a step forward, she rested her free hand on his chest and leaned in to place a soft kiss on his cheek, near the corner of his mouth.

Owen sighed and closed his eyes, wrapping an arm around her waist to bring her closer to him. He rested his forehead against hers for a minute, then placed a soft kiss there. He pulled back when Eliza cleared her throat from the kitchen door.

“Not that I want to interrupt the two of you, but dinner’s ready. Sarah, bring him in before these boys eat up all that food you worked so hard on.”

“Yes, Mama.” Clasping Owen’s hand, she led him into the kitchen. “I’ll introduce you to everyone, and then I’ll take this upstairs to my room.” Though she tried to hide the book against her body, making sure the title was hidden on the inside, Kathy still saw it when they stepped into the kitchen. She reached for it, but Sarah drew back and grasped the book even tighter.

“Well, must be something if you’re that protective of it. What is it, a book of love poems from your sweetheart?” Kathy sneered.

“Of a sort, yes. It’s called
The Kama Sutra
. You should look it up sometime. You might find it informative.” Sarah didn’t expect Kathy to understand the reference, but when Owen, who had sneaked a cookie off the tray, let out a choking noise, Sarah felt her face heat to an almost painful level. Without looking at him, she managed to squeak out the introduction. “Owen, this is my sister, Kathy. I’m going to put this upstairs.”

It was all she could do not to burst out laughing as she hurried to her bedroom. Once there, she looked around, trying to figure out where to hide the book. She knew that as soon as Kathy got a chance, she’d be upstairs searching for it.

“Shit. Where can I put you that you’ll be safe?” she asked the book. Not surprisingly, it didn’t answer, but Sarah thought she might have the ideal place. Sneaking back out into the hall, she listened to make sure her sister was still downstairs, then hurried along the carpeted runner into her mother’s room. She eased the door closed and went to the vacuum cleaner Eliza had stashed there that morning. Very carefully, she opened the compartment that held the bag and placed the book inside. Satisfied, she closed it and stood.

“What are you doing?” her mother asked in a loud whisper.

With a squeak, Sarah turned, her hands going to her chest. “Mama! You scared me to death!”

Eliza looked over her shoulder, then back at Sarah. “Sorry. What are you doing?”

Sarah ushered her back out into the hall, then pulled the door closed. “Owen gave me a book, and Kathy saw it. She’s curious, and you know what that means. I don’t want her to see it.”

“Well, I came up here to get a washcloth for the baby and saw you come in here. Couldn’t figure out what in the world you were up to.” As they headed back downstairs, Eliza stopped Sarah at the turn of the steps with a hand on her arm. “Is it really
The Kama Sutra
?”

“No! I only said that because of Kathy. How do you know what
The Kama Sutra
is?”

Eliza’s smile was wicked. “Never you mind. But Sarah, poor Owen. If you could have seen his face. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone turn that shade of red. I expect you’ll have some explaining to do later as to how
you
know what it is. As a matter of fact, I’d like to know the answer to that, myself.”

“Not the way you think, I promise. Remember Portia, from school?” Sarah asked, waving a hand in front of her face in a desperate attempt to cool her cheeks. “She gave it to me before I left. I never would have said what I did if I knew everyone was familiar with it.”

Her mother was clearly struggling to keep a straight face. If Jack hadn’t walked over to check on them at that point, Sarah thought they would have dissolved into laughter right then and there.

There was a little chaos as everyone settled around the dining room table, but once they were all seated, they joined hands, and Eliza led them in the blessing. Conversation halted while the food was passed.

“Owen, you must be special. Sarah never cooks, but I guess she made pretty much all this by herself. I hope you didn’t mix up the sugar and the salt again, like you did that one time,” Kathy said.

Sarah’s hopes for a peaceful dinner evaporated. She knew the expression on Kathy’s face too well. Her sister would do everything she could during the meal to punish Sarah for not letting her see the book.