Sara reminded herself she’d made a lucky escape. After witnessing the string of philanderers her mother had shacked up with in an assortment of towns through the years, she should’ve recognized one of their ilk in Brian.
She reached for the pendant at her throat, twisting it back and forth. Thoughts of her mother, as usual, made her uncomfortable. Tanya Andersen spent her existence as a brittle, flirtatious woman, striving to live the life of a partying teenager forever. Pregnant at fifteen and unsure of whom the father was, she’d been ill equipped to care for a child.
Sara’s life would’ve been unbearable if not for her sweet soulful grandfather and dear dithering aunt. They cared for her as a baby and as she grew, she spent the summers with them. But just when her battered soul began to heal, fall arrived, along with her mother who came to take her to yet another ‘home’. The round of dissipation began anew, along with Sara’s headaches and retreats into books and studying at the expense of all else.
Reluctantly, she allowed her mind to go back to the past when she and Brian were a couple. She was a junior. He, older than her by five years, was a senior who started college after working in construction for a time.
Everything had seemed so right, just like the sappy words from a cheesy love song. Sara had been so confident his love for her was real, not like the tawdry sham she’d seen growing up. Brian even attended church with her and kept the early part of their courtship chaste. He acted considerate and kind—an absolute gentleman. The cynical side of her insisted this was a plot to get her to lower her defenses.
Maybe.
Their relationship progressed, along with the desire for intimacy. Sara closed her eyes, feeling a fresh wave of humiliation wash over her. Even with her warped upbringing, Sara had allowed herself to be lulled into thinking her situation with Brian was different and special. Of course she knew the limits for a single Christian girl. But a voice inside her head cautioned her that if she acted too prudish, she might lose Brian. Another still, small voice she ignored altogether in the tumult of burgeoning romance.
For the most part, Sara managed to keep their relationship fairly above-board. One night, things got way out of hand. Just days before the school term ended for the year, they spent an evening alone in Brian’s apartment to ‘study’, which they both knew was a pretense.
Somehow they ended up on his bed yet again in a tangle of arms and legs—but that night their actions had taken on a more desperate tone. Sara knew she wouldn’t stop Brian from the inevitable. If not for his roommate walking in the door, she might’ve ended up pregnant and abandoned—a mirror image of her mother.
If anyone said the spiritual, church-going Sara Andersen would end up in some guy’s bedroom before marriage, she would’ve scoffed at the idea. She worked in the church nursery, helped out with the youth group, and studied her Bible. She was the good girl who strove to be the exact opposite of her mother.
Sara released a heavy sigh. She felt a pang of sympathy for her mom. Tanya had made no pretense of faith. Sara knew better. And she had to face the fact that she turned her back on her scruples to be with Brian.
The next day had added insult to injury. She heard Brian talking to the roommate who unwittingly saved her virtue the night before. He asked if Brian was getting religion just to have his way with a girl. Sara remembered Brian’s words with dreadful clarity.
Whatever it takes.
She clenched her fists. Instead of dimming, her anger seemed to grow with time. After discovering Brian’s duplicity, she’d stumbled back to her dorm room and packed up her things, staying with a friend only long enough to finish up her finals. She'd gone on to enroll in a college in Oregon for the following fall. Since her scholarship was non-transferable, she had to get an additional loan to finance the rest of her tuition. It took weeks to get everything straightened out. But she didn’t care. It helped keep her mind off the pain.
Sara hadn’t talk about it much with her aunt, relying on the excuse of homesickness for explanations. Of course, her aunt knew about Brian, but apparently believed Sara’s story of an amicable break. When he'd called looking for her, Sara had refused to talk to him. She'd left him a brief letter saying she wanted nothing more to do with him. No reasons mentioned, although she knew he’d figure it out. It didn’t take long for him to forget her, which only served to embitter her all the more.
Sara bit her lip. For the hundredth time she wondered what that man was doing here.
***
Sara awoke several hours later. From the rumbles in her stomach, she wondered if the noise awoke her. Stretching, she got up from bed then raided the refrigerator while Hattie continued to sleep. Resolutely pushing away any thoughts of Brian, she concentrated on an even more pressing issue—the need to call the library where she worked and request another week off.
Hattie had grieved deeply over the death of Eli and Sara had felt reluctant to leave her side during her first week home. Then there was the delay in visiting the farmhouse. Now, she needed another week to get the house cleaned up and ready to go on the market. She dreaded the task of calling her supervisor. As a newer employee at the library, with no seniority whatsoever, she worried about being replaced.
Although Sara appreciated the dilemma she placed her boss in, she didn’t have a choice. Hattie couldn’t be expected to get everything done alone. Her mind spun with all the details needing to be accomplished in a short amount of time—packing, cleaning, and making arrangements for the actual sale of the house.
She thought briefly about asking Brian to do any needed repairs, but decided against it. He might be offended by the snub, but it made more sense to make a clean break than risk continued contact with him.
Glancing at the clock, Sara made a mental note to broach the subject with her aunt when she awoke.
***
“But Eli didn’t want the house to be sold,” Hattie said with tears filming her eyes. “He left it to you hoping you would follow through with his ideas.”
Feeling rotten for causing Hattie fresh grief, Sara reached across the table and took her hand. This wasn’t going the way she hoped. “Only think,” she said gently. “I live so far away from here. I have a job, an apartment, and friends. It’s impossible.”
Even as she spoke the words, her conscience gave a jab. So wrapped up in her own little world, she’d neglected to take time getting to know many people in Crescent City. She'd only just moved there a year ago after a string of post-graduation part-time jobs.
“Why can’t you move here and live in the house while it’s being renovated?” Hattie asked in a querulous voice. “If you turn it into a bed and breakfast, you could support yourself that way and still be able to pursue your other interests.”
Sara studied her aunt thoughtfully. So they’re all in on this. Eli, Hattie, and Brian. But how do I suddenly fit in, and why? Surely, Grandpa didn’t plan on dying! She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think it’s realistic.”
“Well,” said her aunt in a tone of appeal, “Why don’t you pray about it? How do you know God doesn’t want you here?”
Because he’s here, Sara thought ruefully. Brian Farris. Duh.
Feeling the need to placate her aunt, she smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. “Okay, I’ll pray about it. But this doesn’t change the fact that I need to get the house cleaned and ready for...whatever.”
***
The next morning, Hattie drove her over to the farmhouse. The blue sky soared above with trailing wisps of high white clouds. Another beautiful day in eastern Oregon. Too bad her mood didn’t match. Sara felt the now familiar sinking sensation when she saw the rundown house with the little inhabited cottage in the back. After parking in the driveway, her aunt turned to her.
“Now that you’ll be spending more time here, you might consider using Eli’s pickup. It runs, I think, and it would give us both a lot more freedom. Besides, my car is acting up and I want to get it looked at.”
Sara thou
ght about Hattie’s job, which required travel all over the area, not to mention her church functions. She couldn’t expect her aunt to be at her beck and call. And she certainly didn’t want to be stranded again, having to rely on Brian.
“That’s a great idea. But I haven’t seen it around anywhere.”
“It’s parked in the barn on the other side of the property.”
Sara got out of the car, thanked Hattie for the ride, and walked in the direction of the barn. The looming outbuilding appeared to be leaning slightly to one side. At the doorway, Sara paused, taking in the sunlight slicing through cracks in the plank walls, highlighting a plethora of spider webs and the hulking shapes of nameless machinery. She stepped inside, shaking her head at the cleanup job to come. The interior, crowded with tools, farm implements, and just plain junk, also housed the pickup. Sara peered at the old Ford truck with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. Did everything around here have to be so ramshackle?
The truck, from a whole other era, certainly didn’t inspire confidence. Rust red vied with ancient green for the dominant color. Sara seriously doubted the thing ran. She peeked in the window and wondered why she wasn’t surprised to see keys dangling from the ignition.
Sara tried to open the driver’s side door, but it stuck fast. She gripped the handle more tightly and wrenched with all her strength. With a sound like a shot, the door flew open, knocking her backwards.
She dusted herself off, gamely climbed in—wrinkling her nose at the smell of gas and grease—and gave the key a twist. By pumping the gas pedal, she heard a few sputters, and then, silence. Trying the key again, she only heard a click.
“It needs a new battery.”
Sara started at the sound of Brian’s voice and banged her knee hard against the steering wheel.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Rubbing her knee, Sara didn’t reply. She slid from the seat and noticed Brian wore essentially the same outfit as she, a black T-shirt and faded blue jeans. Her black leather coat and his jean jacket saved them from looking like the Bobbsey twins.
“How ridiculous,” she mumbled.
“What?”
Sara shoved her hands in her back pockets. “Uh, I’m surprised that you’re up and about so soon after your, uh, deathly illness.”
Brian seemed unaffected by her mocking tone. “I still feel a little weak, though I slept for twelve straight hours after you left. I’m tired of lying around.”
Sara studied him through her lashes. He didn’t appear weak at all. Noting his lightly tanned skin, sun-streaked blond hair, and guileless green eyes, he never looked more hale and hearty. She caught a teasing glint in his gaze and realized she'd been staring. “So, I need a new battery, huh?”
He nodded.
“Any idea where I can get a truck battery in this one horse town?”
“There’s an auto supply store not too far from here. Can I give you a lift?”
Sara wanted to say Of course, I need a lift! but refrained. Instead, she gave a bland smile. “Thank you.”
Brian swept his arm in the direction of the driveway where his own truck was parked. Sara strode to his vehicle and scrambled into the cab, wishing the whole ordeal was over already.
The trip to the store passed in absolute silence. Sara pretended to be vastly interested in the scenery. She needed the opportunity to get a handle on her emotions. Dismissing Brian Farris from her mind and heart was much easier when he lived in a different state. Sitting next to him, noticing all the little things about him she used to find so attractive, made it a more difficult task.
She couldn’t wait to get the house finished and get out of Buell Creek. She wanted to be rid of his disturbing presence, for once and for all. No more 'coincidental' meetings.
Perhaps she could persuade Hattie to move down to northern California with her.
Brian glanced over at Sara, disappointed in her silence. Either she found the scenery incredibly interesting or she had no interest in him.
He sincerely hoped the former. Sara was the only reason he’d come to Buell Creek. Knowing she grew up here, it seemed a logical place to begin his search for her. Besides, he wanted to check into the building boom happening in Oregon. Striking up a friendship with Eli proved providential, and Brian took it as confirmation he was firmly in God’s plan.
With her grandfather’s help, he hoped to reenter Sara’s life at some point and at least make wrongs right with her. Now without Eli’s encouragement, he felt less certain of how to proceed. He couldn’t just blurt out his apologies after a two-year separation. He wanted Sara to listen to him with a modicum of trust. That meant rebuilding a connection.
Right now, the situation looked pretty discouraging. Her animosity made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him. While Brian understood it up to a point, he felt frustrated by it. And he knew of old that once Sara made up her mind, there wasn’t much that could change it. Stubborn as always.
He'd hoped she might retain a bit of affection for him. He looked over at her and felt a quickening of his senses. That he still cared for her was an understatement.
Brian pulled into the local auto supply store lot and parked. Sara scurried out of the cab and went on ahead of him. He sensed tension emanating from her in waves. He whistled a cheerful tune in hopes of annoying her as much as her demeanor annoyed him.
Obviously ignoring him, Sara approached the counter and asked a store employee to assist her with batteries. When the clerk asked her about the model of her truck, she looked over her shoulder with mute appeal in her gaze.
“It’s a sixty-three F one-fifty,” he replied with a satisfied grin.
After Sara made the purchase, Brian loaded the battery into the bed of his pickup and they drove back to the farmhouse.
“Will you need help installing the battery?”
“Yes,” she said stiffly.
Brian kept up a light stream of conversation during the remainder of the ride, feeling gratified when she appeared to relax a little. In the barn, he replaced the battery in the Ford and gave the engine a quick inspection. “Give it a try now.”
Sara climbed up into the cab and turned the ignition. The truck roared to life.
“Yes!” she cried. Her cheeks flooded with color. Clearing her throat, she quickly composed her expression and politely thanked him.
The brief glimpse of the smiling Sara he remembered gave Brian the desire to push forward with his mission. One way or another Sara Andersen would forgive him of his past behavior toward her. And maybe, just maybe, she’d return to where she really belonged.
In his arms.
Chapter Five
Sara worked at cleaning the farmhouse over the next three days, often with Hattie’s help. The truck made everything so much more convenient, and although it tended to emit black smoke when she drove, it otherwise ran okay.
She thought often of Brian’s help with the battery and conceded his gentlemanly gesture. Beyond that, she refused to read any more into it. She also noticed his conspicuous absence. Of course she was glad of the fact.
Inside the house, Sara had pulled down all the drapes and curtains to have them cleaned, washed the windows until they shone, and eradicated the cobwebs from the corners of the ceiling. She boxed up all the pictures and bric-a-brac and organized the furniture into what she planned to keep and what she’d give away.
By the fourth day, she had to drag herself over to the house. A colossal headache gripped her skull like a vise, and she felt hot and achy all over. Determination to finish made her push on with the work.
She completed cleaning the entire house until only her grandfather’s bedroom remained. Sara no longer had an excuse to put off the task. Inside his room, endeavoring to ignore her sadness, she gazed at the furnishings with a gimlet eye. Sara decided the bed needed to go. The mattress looked lumpy and the frame, scarred and cheap. In fact, most of the furniture was nondescript and she’d probably just get rid of it.
His antique roll
top desk, however, had been cared for with a loving hand. She pictured the perfect place for it in her Crescent City apartment and looked forward to using it as he had—for her scribbles.
Heaving a sentimental sigh, Sara started with the closet and carefully folded up all his clothes. The familiar smell reminded her forcefully of her loss and tears dribbled down her cheeks as she worked. Soon everything but his books and papers were packed away.
She stood up to stretch her tired muscles. Her heart roared in her ears. She lurched dizzily, landing on the floor with a bump.
Closing her eyes, she waited for the spinning world to right itself again. When she finally lifted her lids, she saw the time. Just after three. One more hour and she’d call it a day.
Taking a deep breath, Sara cautiously stood back up and went over to the desk. She settled wearily into the chair and began sorting through the contents of the drawers. She planned to box everything up now and go through it at a later date.
It felt strange to go through someone’s personal things, but she looked forward to a more intimate glimpse of her grandfather. She discovered a journal filled with snippets of poetry, with most of the lines crossed out and rewritten. Perusing the first few pages made her smile and she set it to the side to take home later. A few minutes later, she found another journal. This proved to be more of a diary and Sara wondered whether or not she should read it. Curiosity won out and she set it atop the book of poems.
Noticing her box becoming full, she got up to get another empty one. A spasm of pain pierced the back of her head and left her breathless. She sank down onto the side of the bed and closed her eyes.
Restorations (Book One Oregon In Love) Page 4