Firefly Hollow (20 page)

“Kathy, I believe that happened when Sarah was ten years old. And she cooks all the time; you just aren’t here to see it,” Eliza said. Though their mother’s tone was neutral, she sent Kathy a pointed look. “And yes, Owen is special.” Sarah sent her a grateful smile.

“You made all this?” Owen asked Sarah when Jack distracted Randall and Kathy with a question about the baby.

“Um, yes, most of it. I cook when I’m upset,” she confessed in a low voice. Because there were so many people there, they all were sitting in closer quarters than usual. Sarah could feel the heat of Owen all along her left side, and he didn’t have to move much to be able to speak so as to not be overheard.

“I’m sorry.”

Sarah moved her left hand off the table and touched his leg. “Don’t. I’m not upset now. I just needed a little time to get my head around things.”

Owen covered her hand with his. They left their hands clasped together under the table and resumed eating.

“So what is it you do, exactly, Owen?” Randall asked out of the blue, sitting back in his chair to put an arm around Kathy’s shoulders. “I’ve asked around, but nobody seems to know.”

“Randall! That’s rude, don’t you think? And it’s also none of your business,” Sarah said.

“Now, that’s not a nice thing to say, girl. I’m looking out for you. If this fella’s serious about courting you, he needs to be able to support you.” Randall’s hurt expression didn’t fool Sarah for an instant, and her hand clenched around Owen’s.

He squeezed back. “It’s okay. I do research for people who can’t travel down here, and I help my uncle out in Laurel County on his farm every year. I’m perfectly able to support Sarah, if that’s something she and I decide needs to happen.”

Randall scoffed. “Shoot, you can’t make much money at that. Research. Tell you what, I could put in a word for you down at the county garage. If you know your way around an engine, that is. Your brother sure did, I’ll tell you that.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine doing what I do now.” Owen’s tone clearly brooked no argument, but Sarah figured the warning was lost on Randall.

“So are you going to let Sarah keep working? If you do get married, I mean? I wouldn’t want my wife out there, exposed to all those men that go in that library. Might give her ideas, if you know what I’m saying.” His arm, draped around Kathy’s shoulders, tightened, and Sarah saw her sister wince as if in pain. “It’s a good thing for a wife to know her place.”

Sarah didn’t dare glance at her mother. She was afraid of what she’d see.

Owen’s voice was cold. “Sarah and I haven’t discussed marriage yet, thank you, but when and if we get to that point, Sarah’s free to make her own place however she sees fit. I don’t hold with the tradition that a woman should stay pregnant and barefoot unless that’s what she wants.”

Randall’s face turned red, but before he could speak, Jack jumped in, “Speaking of garages, I went and saw Mr. Campbell at the Ford dealership yesterday.” He looked at Owen. “Kin of yours?”

Owen shook his head. “No. Different set of Campbells.”

“Ah. Okay. Well, in any event, I’ll be starting there Monday in the service department. I’ll be working as a mechanic.”

There were congratulations and well wishes all around the table, and Jack took them in stride.

“That was fast,” Eliza said. “I know you were concerned about finding a job.”

Jack nodded and touched Gilly’s hand. “I was. But now that I have found one, we’re going to move the wedding up. We’re not going to wait until next year. Life’s too short.” His pronouncement was met with stunned silence, and then everyone was talking at once.

“Oh, my God. You got her pregnant!” Kathy declared, her eyes wide.

“Kathleen! Watch yourself,” Eliza warned. “We have a guest.”

Sarah saw the color start at Jack’s collar and climb its way up from there. She winced, knowing her sister was about to get lambasted.

“Gilly is not pregnant,” Jack ground out. “We aren’t anticipating our marriage vows, unlike—”

“Jackson Reese Browning!” Eliza shouted. Everyone turned to stare at her. Eliza rarely lost her temper enough to yell. “God help me get through this dinner without strangling someone, and I swear to you, I’ll clean the church every day this week as penance.” Lowering her gaze from the ceiling to look first at Jack, then at Kathy and Randall, she nodded once. “As you were.”

Randall, perhaps trying to smooth things over, asked Jack, “Where are you all going to live once you’re married?”

Jack released a slow breath. “We were hoping we could stay here, just until we got on our feet a little. Mama, is that okay? I mean, you’ll be in Georgia, and Sarah’d be here by herself.”

As the implications sank in, Sarah groaned. Her fork clanged against her plate, and she closed her eyes. “Not again. I don’t think I can survive another pair of newlyweds.”

At the end of the table, Eliza made a strangled noise. She held her napkin up to hide her mouth, but Sarah could tell she was struggling not to laugh.

Fighting to keep her own mouth straight, Sarah looked at Gilly. “Do you think your parents would let me rent your room?”

Completely serious, Gilly met her gaze. “No, but Owen might rent you a room.”

Eliza hurried away from the table with a choked “Excuse me.” Though she went outside, they could still hear her laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Moira asked from beside Sarah. “Aunt Sarah, your face is turning awfully red.”

Flummoxed, Sarah looked down at her niece, trying to figure out how in the world to answer. Kathy came to her rescue, inadvertently, by asking Gilly about the wedding.

“Are you still getting married in church?”

“Of course. And I’m planning on wearing white, too,” Gilly answered.

“Oh, Christ,” Sarah muttered. She let go of Owen’s hand and reached for her water, wishing it was something stronger even though she didn’t like alcohol. Any chance she’d had of presenting a halfway-normal family was out the window. She risked looking at him and felt a little less panicked to see that he didn’t appear offended, but rather amused.

Eliza returned to the table and discussion moved back to Jack’s new job.

“How come you didn’t come to the county garage and put in for work?” Randall asked. “You know I’d have gotten you on there.”

Jack took a long drink of tea. “Because I didn’t want to have to worry about my job disappearing next election year. My family’s security isn’t something I’m willing to risk on politics, and the county garage isn’t known as being the most stable place to work.”

“Oh, ho, how very nice for you, Jackson,” Kathy drawled. “I’d rather have a man who’s committed to standing up for what he believes in. One might almost say your vote is a commodity, if that’s the way you feel.” Before Jack could respond, she turned her gaze to Owen. “How do you vote, Owen? You can tell a lot about a man from the way he casts his ballots. Take my Randall, for example. He’s a straight party man, toes the line the whole way, every year.”

The tension returned, full force, as everyone waited for Owen’s answer. Eliza had apparently given up trying to control Kathy and Randall, and Sarah guessed that she was probably counting the seconds until the dinner was over.

“I vote my conscience,” Owen stated. “I’m more concerned with the man behind the stump speech than whether he’s a Democrat or Republican.”

“That’s a shame,” Randall replied. “A crying shame. Your brother, God rest his soul, he woulda been sick to death with embarrassment. You don’t work a real job; you don’t hold faithful to the party. I bet you don’t even believe in God. Now, Harlan Campbell? He was a man’s man. He died fighting to protect this country from the commies over in Europe. You sure ain’t cut from the same cloth. No, sir.”

Sarah didn’t think there could possibly be another ounce of air left in the room. Everyone had sucked in a breath as the words left Randall’s mouth, even Kathy, who finally had the good sense to look embarrassed.

Owen, however, shrugged nonchalantly and picked up his lemonade. “You’re certainly entitled to your opinion, as I am to mine. And I’m of the opinion that any man who so idolizes my brother,
God rest his soul
, isn’t someone I give two craps and a hoot about. Especially considering that Harlan died in a bar fight over the favors of a whore.” He inclined his head toward Eliza. “Forgive me for speaking so frankly.

“Now, we’ve talked about money, politics, and sex, three things my mother always taught me shouldn’t be discussed in polite company. Knowing Mrs. Browning as I do, I can’t imagine she didn’t teach her children the same thing, which makes it all the more puzzling that all three have come up while we were trying to enjoy this wonderful meal that Sarah prepared for us. It must be some bad outside influence is the only thing that I can come up with.” The last part was said as he stared straight at Randall. The look in Owen’s eyes dared Sarah’s brother-in-law to say a single contradictory word.

“I believe I’m finished here,” Randall said, his face a mottled, ugly red. “I’m going outside for a smoke.” He pushed back his chair with a scrape and left.

“I hear the baby. I’d better check on him. Moira, come help me.” Kathy hurried out of the room, and Sarah felt a moment’s pang of sympathy for her sister.

After they left, Eliza sighed, slumping tiredly in her chair. “Owen, I am so sorry. I didn’t invite you here today to run the gauntlet like that.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Browning. I’m not offended. I expected something like that to happen, to tell the truth. I know how men like Randall work. My brother was one. I apologize for being so crude.”

Though Sarah knew her mother was tremendously embarrassed, the smile she sent Owen was genuine. “Son, I think after this you’d better call me Eliza. You’ve earned it.”

After the remains of the disastrous dinner had been cleared away, Eliza invited everyone to move to the backyard and play some badminton. Kathy and Randall declined, citing the fussy baby as an excuse to leave early. Sarah didn’t think she imagined the tension level receding as they pulled out of the driveway. She said as much to Gilly.

“That wasn’t bad at all,” Gilly replied. “And yes, I’m being facetious. But your Owen held his own very nicely. You should be proud of him.”

“I am. I’m also deeply ashamed, Gilly. Talk about a trial by fire.”

Her friend poked her in the ribs. “Hey, at least you know he’s not going to turn tail and run away at the first sign of trouble. Come on. Let’s join our men and whip their butts.”

Sarah shook her head, hiding a yawn. “I can’t. I’ve been up since five, and I didn’t sleep last night. Get Mama to go out there with you.”

Gilly pleaded with her to reconsider, but Sarah wasn’t kidding when she said she wasn’t up to it.

“I’ll be asleep if I sit down for more than five minutes, I’m so tired. I’d do you more harm than good.”

She helped convince Eliza to go out in her stead, happy to see her mother smiling again. Once they started playing, Sarah stretched out on the glider, wincing as her sore feet throbbed. Even though they’d not let her help with the dishes, and she had been resting ever since lunch, she still felt as if she’d walked twenty miles.

The next thing she knew, someone was gently shaking her awake.

“Sarah. Wake up, sleepyhead.”

“Owen?”

“None other. Come on. If you don’t wake up, I’ll have to carry you inside.”

Sarah smiled. “Then I’m not waking up. You could kiss me awake. I like your kisses.”

He gave a little groan. “Sarah, your mom is standing here.”

“I think you’re going to have to carry her, Owen. She’s exhausted. I heard her tossing and turning all night, and she was up before the sun. Poor thing.” Eliza’s tone was gentle, though amused. “Do you need Jack’s help?”

Sarah felt strong arms slide underneath her, and she pried her eyes a bit. When she saw that Owen held her, she rested her head against his shoulder.

“No, I have her. Where do you want me to put her?”

The voices faded away, and the next thing she knew, Sarah was on her bed. Someone tugged off her shoes, and she groaned with relief.

“I’ll bet her feet are killing her. They’ll be sore tomorrow,” her mother said from somewhere nearby. A soft quilt was tucked around Sarah’s shoulders, and she smelled Eliza’s perfume. “Do you want to stay up here for a while?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to, Mrs. Browning.”

“Eliza. You ought to kick off your own shoes and lay down. You look almost as tired as Sarah. I’ll bet you didn’t get much sleep last night, either, did you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“I’m going to head back downstairs. Stay as long as you need to, Owen. I think the two of you need some time together right now. I’m going to close the door, as I’m trusting you.” Her mother’s voice grew distant, and Sarah figured Eliza was leaving the room.

“I won’t abuse that trust, I swear to you.”

“I know you won’t. I have a frying pan, a shotgun, and a butcher knife downstairs,” Eliza teased. “And your mother raised you better than to take advantage of a young woman under her own mother’s nose.”

The door clicked softly closed. Sarah heard Owen let out a pent-up breath.

“Come lay beside me?” she asked, her voice raspy from fatigue.

“I thought you were asleep.”

Sarah opened her eyes enough to see him. “I am. Please?”

He didn’t respond for a minute, then nodded. Sarah watched as took off his shoes and unbuttoned his dress shirt, revealing the white T-shirt beneath it. He untucked both shirts from his pants and moved around to the other side of the bed.

Heart pounding, she waited as he eased into bed beside her, drawing the quilt over both of them. Sarah turned over, going into his arms, and Owen kissed her temple. Snuggling her head onto his firm shoulder, she relaxed for the first time in two days and promptly fell asleep.