“My sister will have to wait. I’m not leaving, Sara.”
“You...are...not...going to stay in my apartment!”
Brian’s face creased into a smile. “No, I suppose I can’t do that, now can I?” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and startled Sara by disappearing out the door.
On wobbly legs, she leaned against the wall. She wasn’t interested in what Brian was cooking up because she knew it would only manage to cause her displeasure. All the same, she headed into the bathroom to freshen up before he returned.
A few minutes later, Sara sat down on the couch in the living room and blew out a breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the red flashing light of her answering machine. She pressed the button and leaned back against the cushions with her eyes closed. Most were old messages from Hattie, one from a friend at work wondering when she’d be back, and one from a guy she dated once before.
“Hi, Sara, this is Daryl Cummings. I thought we had a date last night but you never showed up. Are you okay?”
Sara slapped a hand to her head and groaned. She’d completely forgot she ever made the plans with him. After the loss of her grandfather, she’d flown straight to Oregon. She needed to call him right away.
“Who’s Daryl?” Brian asked, striding in the door with a set of keys jingling in his hand.
Sara stabbed a button on the machine, cutting Daryl off in mid-sentence from another call asking where she was.
Brian plopped down onto the couch next to her and held up the keys. “You’ll never guess.”
“You’re right. I won’t.”
“I went down and talked to your manager and she had a little studio empty right next door to you, close enough to hear if you need help. So I rented it for a few nights.”
“I hope you didn’t use me as a character reference,” Sara said dryly. No doubt, Brian flashed his lazy smile at Mrs. Hogarth to get what he wanted.
Brian pocketed the keys and looked at her with a wide grin. “Isn’t it great? Now I can be proper protection to you while we’re here.”
Sara stared at him. Brian proper? Protection? She recalled spending every free moment in his arms. Her gaze drifted to his lips. She still remembered the way they felt against her own—tender, teasing...possessive. When she raised her eyes, she found him watching her as if he read her thoughts. Her face flamed.
“Who’s Daryl?”
Sara blinked, jolted by the question. The heat in her face deepened. She tilted up her chin. “None of your business.”
Brian regarded her for a moment before standing up. “Why don’t I order us some take-out Chinese and after we eat dinner, we can start organizing the move.”
Sara found the suggestion eminently reasonable, but was reluctant to readily agree with anything the man said. She rose from the couch and shrugged. “I’m going to get started now.” Without waiting for a response, she went into her bedroom and shut the door with more force than necessary.
Sara quickly changed into old faded jeans and a faded T-shirt. In the bathroom, she once more checked her appearance. Seeing the high color in her cheeks, she sniffed and reminded herself not to lower her defenses to the man in the next room.
She remembered her thoughts during the drive from the airport. Okay, so Brian kept popping up and putting his nose into her business, but she found nothing truly lover-like in his actions. From experience, she knew if he intended to woo her, he wouldn’t be so oblique about it. When they first met, he'd pursued her with zeal. Now he acted like nothing more than a friendly shadow.
Sara scowled, catching her reflection in the mirror. All her old feelings of unworthiness rushed back. Someone like her had no hope of attracting the handsome, charming Brian Farris. Last time must’ve been a fluke. She lowered her eyes, feeling suddenly weary. All this time she thought she'd been holding him at arm’s length. But if Brian wanted her, he wouldn’t let a bit of coolness stop him. How foolish to assume he might still be interested. Besides, she didn’t want him to be interested. He was a womanizing philanderer.
Wasn’t he?
Pursing her lips, Sara remembered her desire to avoid another disastrous relationship. With a bleak little sigh, she turned and went back into the living room.
Chapter Seven
Sara found Brian once again standing next to the window, gazing down to the street. He looked up when she entered the room.
“I put in the order. You still like Szechuan, I hope.”
Sara stopped in her tracks. A memory blew into her mind. On their third date he’d taken her to a Chinese restaurant specializing in Szechuan. He kissed her for the first time that night, and they’d laughed about their spicy breath afterwards.
She sent him a searching look. Surely he didn’t refer to that date. Brian returned her gaze, his face a polite mask. She shook away the memory. “That’s fine.”
While they waited for the food to arrive, Sara dug through closets for boxes to begin packing.
The door buzzer sounded and Brian went downstairs to the main door to pick up the order. Sara got out plastic utensils and paper plates. As she set the small wood table in the kitchen, she tried to rein in her tumbling thoughts. As usual, spending any amount of time with Brian muddled her thinking.
He walked into the kitchen with their order, filling up the small room with his height and presence. She quickly plopped down onto a chair and folded her hands in her lap.
As Brian served her from the cartons, she was aware he'd ordered her favorites. After a few minutes, he picked up a shrimp drenched in spicy sauce and teased her to take a bite. To her horror, she did. The next thing she knew, she was feeding him from her plate, all the while giggling like an idiot.
Brian leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. Sara reached out to him like a drowning woman, returning the kiss with all the pent up fervor in her heart. Abruptly, he pushed her away. “I can’t be with someone who’s not a Christian,” he said flatly.
Sara gasped and opened her eyes. Lurching to a sitting position, she frantically looked around, struggling to get her bearings. It took a moment to figure out she lay in her bed, in the dark, and alone. Sagging with relief, she collapsed back against the pillows.
A dream. A stupid, shocking dream. Musing over the images, Sara wondered which was worse. The fact that she kissed Brian in such a starved way or that he ultimately rejected her. She snuggled back down into the blankets and waited for her pounding heart to slow. Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed herself to go back to sleep, ignoring the way her lips tingled as if she’d just been kissed.
As she drifted toward slumber, a soft sound ricocheted through her brain. Her eyes snapped open. Sara held her breath, her ears straining as she lay motionless in the dark. When she heard the unmistakable sound of a creak, she wrestled with the blankets and scrambled out of bed. What to do next? The only ‘weapon’ handy was a hairbrush. Where was Brian when she really needed him? Some protector.
Silently, Sara crept across the floor. The sound of her heart thudded in her ears. She peeked around her bedroom door and heard a …snore. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she made out a darker shape on her couch. Sara groaned inwardly. He wouldn’t. Quietly, in case she was mistaken, she approached the couch. Her suspicions were quickly confirmed. Brian lay sprawled awkwardly out on the cushions, fully clothed, with only his jacket for a blanket. He would.
What was he thinking, staying in her apartment when she made herself very clear about her feelings on the subject? Sara ignored the notion Brian was sweet for being so protective. He needed to be up and out this minute. “Brian! Wake up!”
He stirred but only continued to snore more loudly. She gave his shoulder a rough shake. His eyes slowly opened and when they focused on her, he sat up with a jerk. A distinctly guilty look briefly crossed his features.
Any normal person would’ve apologized at that point, but as she waited for him to speak, he didn’t surprise her when he smiled without shame.
“I was just dreaming abo
ut you, Sara.”
With her arms crossed, she lifted a brow. She’d heard that before. “I’m waiting to hear why you’re in my apartment without my permission.” He said nothing, only giving her a limpid look. Sara made a noise of disgust. “What must Mrs. Hogarth think of me?”
Brian stretched like a cat and relaxed against the back of the couch, kicking his legs to the floor. “When I was getting the room next door, she mentioned there’d been problems around here lately. Robbery was committed against a woman in the neighborhood and...worse.”
Sara felt the blood drain from her face as the meaning of his words sank in. “Oh, no.”
“Your landlady was very understanding when I explained I wanted to make sure you were safe.”
Collapsing onto the couch next to him, all the fight drained out of her. “I suppose you want to be here for the next night as well.”
“I would prefer to. But if you really don’t want me to, I won’t.”
Sara jumped up and took several steps away from him. She rubbed her arms and wondered if she could survive having Brian fill every moment of her life. The harder she tried to distance herself, the closer he got. She glanced at the clock on the wall and turned to him.
“It’s just after five now. I think you should go back to your own room.”
Brian stood and shrugged into his jacket. He smiled in that heart-stopping way of his before reaching for the door. “Go back to bed and get some sleep.”
When she closed the door and locked it behind him, she released a shaky breath. Sara lugged her body into her room and crawled into bed, asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
***
Morning came too quickly, and Sara barely managed to clamber into her clothing before Brian knocked on the door. He brought with him a tray of fresh gooey cinnamon rolls, saying Mrs. Hogarth had recommended a bakery nearby.
While she tried to eat one without smearing herself with icing, she remembered how she used to make them for him, knowing they were one of his favorite foods. Sara gave Brian a sharp look. He licked icing from his fingers and seemed oblivious to her questioning stare. Was he trying to dredge up feelings of nostalgia? But why bother?
Later that morning, Sara went alone to the library where she had worked, to pack up her desk and say her goodbyes. Brian wanted to accompany her but she remained adamant—she'd do it alone. The last thing she needed was to have him in tow and endure the speculative looks of her co-workers.
When Sara entered the library and went to her desk, she expected to feel some sadness at the thought of leaving. However by the time she walked out with her box, she felt a lightening of spirit. She didn’t have much in the way of possessions to bring home, but a few of the employees gave her farewell cards and small gifts. Sadly, as kind as her co-workers were, she never became overly close with any of them.
Sara had a few friends at church she would call and say goodbye to as well. She’d miss them, but it didn’t cause her any grief to part with them. The more she thought about it, the more she fretted about her lack of close ties. Am I really such a cold fish? Maybe that Italian guy on the plane was right. I'm an ice queen.
Growing up in an assortment of towns made it difficult to maintain friendships. Maybe that was the reason she kept to herself so much. Developing close bonds meant pain when having to make the inevitable farewells.
Sara arrived in the parking lot just as Brian pulled up to the curb, right on time from his trip to the market for packing boxes. They made the drive back to her apartment in silence, Brian seeming to understand her need for privacy.
They spent the remainder of the morning packing, stopping occasionally when some people from church stopped by to wish her well. Sara introduced Brian, but downplayed the nature of their relationship, hoping no one thought she was leaving because of him. If Brian thought anything about it, he didn’t let on, but continued to move furniture and stack heavy boxes with his usual good nature. When they broke for lunch, they ate deli sandwiches. No troubling double meaning there.
In the afternoon, Sara worked on packing up her bedroom. She filled a suitcase with things she needed easy access to, putting all the rest in boxes. Cleaning out a desk drawer, she found a packet of letters deep in the back. Sara brought them out into the light. Her heart lurched in her chest. She recognized them as love letters and notes from Brian she could’ve sworn she got rid of a long time ago. Brian, out making arrangements to hire a moving trailer, didn’t witness her discovery. Thank the Lord for small favors.
Unable to resist a peek, she sank down onto the edge of a chair, the only remaining piece of furniture in her room, and opened the first envelope. The paper shook as she read words from a poem by Robert Burns.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Until a’ the seas gang dry.
She read through several more letters, smiling through a haze of tears, amazed the poems written in Brian's own words sounded as flowery as the poetry he chose for her. Sara was transported back to the days when she and Brian had something special, something that would never end.
Or so she thought.
She pressed a hand to her hot cheek. Had he ever truly felt this way about her? Or had it been a clever way to compromise her? A wave of sadness washed over her, leaving her trembling.
The sound of the phone ringing made her jump.
Clutching the letters to her chest, she stumbled into the living room and grabbed the phone. “Hello?”
“Sara! You’re finally home!”
“Daryl. Hi.” She perched on the edge of the couch and looked longingly at the letters in her lap.
“Where have you been? Are you all right?”
“I’m so sorry I forgot to tell you, Daryl, but there’s been a death in my family and everything went out of my head. I went back for the funeral and stayed for a couple of weeks. I feel horrible that I didn’t call.”
“No explanation needed. My condolences.”
“Thank you.”
Sara felt guilty that she forgot about him. Daryl had seemed very interested in her, but in the few months she’d known him, she couldn’t muster reciprocal feelings. With brown hair and blue eyes and a tall, athletic figure, she found nothing unpleasant in his appearance, but she always wondered at the insincere note in his manner.
“So,” she asked after an awkward moment, “What have you been up to?”
“Missing you.”
She cleared her throat. “Seriously.”
“Well, I have missed you and would like to see you again,” he said. “Are you busy today?”
Sara became aware of an ache in the back of her neck. She hated this kind of situation, but only blamed herself for having encouraged him in the first place. She decided to be blunt and get it over with. “Um, the thing is Daryl, I’m packing today to move to Oregon.”
“What! Why? For good?”
Seeing the farmhouse in her mind’s eye, Sara took a breath. “While I was staying with my aunt after my grandfather’s funeral, I...came upon a new opportunity. Not to mention the fact that I lost my job at the library. It seems like a good time to make a change.”
“I heard about the job. Sorry, that was a tough break. What kind of opportunity are you talking about?”
She heard a knock at the door. “Daryl, I don’t want to cut you off, but there’s someone at my door. Can I call you back later?”
“No need. I’ll just pop over in a bit to say goodbye—”
Sara cringed as Brian began to hammer on the door and yell her name.
“Uh, I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” She hung up the phone, exasperated. “It’s open!”
The door swung wide and Brian strode in with a frown. “I told you to keep it locked while I was gone.”
Sara emitted a little squeak when she remembered the letters in her lap. She shoved them between the cushions of the couch, praying he didn’t notice. She stood up, striv
ing to appear nonchalant.
“Uh, were you able to get the trailer rented?”
“Yep. It’s parked out at the curb. I talked to Mrs. Hogarth, and she said her son would help me load the furniture tonight.”
“Oh, how nice.”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost time for dinner. Is there anything special that sounds good?”
Sara furrowed her brow as if deep in thought. All she wanted was to put those letters where he’d never find them. “Honestly, I don’t care. Whatever sounds good to you.”
Brian walked around to the front of the couch and plunked down on the cushions, missing Sara’s expression of dread when she heard the telltale crinkling sound from the paper.
“Where’s your phonebook? I’ll look in the yellow pages and we can decide together.”
“Really, I couldn’t care less what we have,” she said, waving her hands in little desperate motions. “Just something quick.”
Brian settled more comfortably on the couch. “I was hoping for something different. Could I take a look at your phonebook?”
“Can't you look something up on your phone?”
“Dead battery.”
Okay. She had to oblige him. The chances were slim he suspected anything, but somehow the thought failed to comfort her.
“Fine. I’ll go get it.”
In the kitchen, Sara bit her lip in frustration when she saw all the boxes the phonebook might be under. After waging a feverish search, it still took her a good five minutes to locate the thing. She wrenched it out from under a box and rushed back into the living room.
Sara found Brian reading the letters. She let out a squawk of outrage. “You have no right to snoop in my personal things!”
Brian looked up. “I wrote them,” he said with maddening reason.
Sara stood clenching the phonebook, unsure of what to do. If she demanded the letters back, he might think she deemed them important. And of course she didn’t. She raised the phonebook and tossed it at him, glad when it hit him in the chest with a satisfying thwack before falling unheeded to the floor.
Restorations (Book One Oregon In Love) Page 6