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Take Me Home (9781455552078)

Page 9

by Garlock, Dorothy


  Olivia’s thoughts must have shown in her face. Billy had been watching her intently, waiting for the answers he so desperately wanted, but suddenly his features softened and his eyes looked quickly away, as if he was ashamed of how he’d been behaving. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the only sound beneath the evergreen coming from the early-spring crickets, chirping in the darkness.

  It was Billy who finally spoke. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you, especially after all you’ve been through.”

  Olivia remained silent.

  “It’s…it’s just that ever since I heard about what happened,” Billy continued, “I’ve been worried sick. I couldn’t bear to lose you…just the thought of it makes me crazy. But instead of being happy that you weren’t hurt, I jumped to conclusions and made a fool out of myself.” He paused. “Can you forgive me?”

  “Yes,” she answered truthfully.

  “So…will he…will Peter…be all right?”

  Olivia remembered the way Peter’s head had hit the ground and how still he’d been when they’d loaded him into the wagon. “I hope so,” she said. “The doctor said that the only thing we could do was let him rest.”

  “Well,” Billy said with a slightly forced smile, “when he does wake up, I want to be the first person who thanks him for what he did.” It was the same sentiment that her father had expressed, but Olivia didn’t find it nearly as convincing coming from Billy. Though he was doing his best to hide his true feelings, she could see that he was ill at ease.

  Ever since Billy had dropped to one knee and proposed, Olivia had felt lost, as anchorless as a teacup in a tempest. When she’d surprised even herself and agreed to become his wife, it hadn’t taken long for her to begin doubting her decision. More difficult questions had followed from family and friends. For too long, Olivia had been on the defensive. Maybe it was time for her to be the one doing the asking…

  “Why didn’t I know?”

  “Know what?”

  “That you were in love with me,” Olivia answered. “When you proposed, you said that you’ve loved me ever since the day we met along the creek, but whenever I think back, looking for some sign that might’ve given away how you felt, there’s nothing. How did you keep it from me? How could I have mistaken your love for friendship for so long?”

  Billy turned to look at her, but didn’t answer.

  “Tell me,” she insisted.

  He sighed. “The reason you didn’t know, why I did whatever it took to keep it from you, was because I was scared that if I was honest, if I just told that I was in love with you, there was a chance you would’ve rejected me. The truth could have destroyed our friendship, and that was a risk I wasn’t willing to take.”

  Olivia wondered if he was right; if Billy had told her years ago, would she have turned him down?

  Probably…

  To Olivia, Billy had never been more than her friend, her best friend. She hadn’t once considered him as a potential boyfriend or husband.

  “Our friendship would never have ended,” she said.

  “But I didn’t know that,” he answered. “The problem with reaching for the stars is that you have that much farther to fall.”

  “Is that what I was to you? A star?”

  “The brightest in the sky. You still are.”

  Billy’s words made Olivia blush. Unable to think of what to say, she sat back on the rough bench and looked into the darkness.

  Inside her home, lights shone brightly in the kitchen. Even from so far away, Olivia could see her mother finishing her preparations for dinner. Suddenly, her father appeared, sliding up behind his wife, trying to steal a bite of something, and then getting his hand playfully swatted away. It was a tender moment between them, something Olivia rarely saw; her mother’s hardness rarely allowed for shows of affection. But right before her eyes, even with an injured stranger sleeping in the guest room, it was clear her parents were still in love.

  “They look happy.”

  Olivia looked at Billy; he smiled, then turned back toward the house.

  “Yes, they do,” she answered.

  As they watched, her mother suddenly began to laugh heartily, the sound trapped behind the glass, her eyes shut and her head tilted back, her shoulders shaking slightly. Olivia could only imagine what had caused it; probably one of her father’s infamous jokes.

  “Do you think we could ever be like that?” Billy asked. “After we’ve been married for twenty years, had a couple of kids, maybe a grandchild or three, and are happy in our home, that we’ll be the ones standing in front of the kitchen window, laughing together?”

  Olivia didn’t respond; she didn’t know how. This was the very question she had been unable to answer, no matter how hard she tried. That was because something important was missing from her relationship with Billy.

  Love.

  Having a family, growing old together, sharing moments both good and bad, needed love. She saw it in her parents, even if her mother could be difficult, and Olivia had always wanted the same for herself. She wondered if she’d ever love Billy as passionately as he did her, if at all. She just didn’t feel it. He didn’t make her heart flutter. She didn’t count the time until she could see him again. He hadn’t filled her with a desire to kiss him. To make matters worse, meeting Peter Baird had troubled the already muddy waters; he had stirred unfamiliar feelings inside her, some of them the same emotions she’d never felt with Billy.

  Questions filled her. Could things between them change? Would it take months, maybe even years, for the love to come? Without it, how could they hope to get to where her mother and father were? What if she gave in and married him? Would she spend the rest of her life regretting her decision? Would she be giving up her dreams of love? Would everything between them, especially their friendship, be ruined, just as Billy had feared? In her desire not to hurt Billy, would she only end up hurting them both?

  “Billy, we need to—” she began, determined to find a way to talk about what she was feeling, to give voice to her worries. But when she turned toward him, Olivia found that Billy had already come closer, his face mere inches away. His eyes roamed across her face, so imploring that it felt as if he were asking her something. “What?” she asked, as if that was precisely what he’d done.

  Instead of answering with words, Billy reached over and tenderly placed his fingers against the curve of her cheek. Ever so slightly, so softly that Olivia wondered if she was imagining it, he turned her head toward him and moved forward. Time felt as if it was standing still, her pounding heart marking the countless seconds that should have passed, as Billy drew closer. At the last moment, Olivia closed her eyes. When his lips touched hers, Olivia reached out and grabbed Billy’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. It was all so sudden, so unexpected, that she became swept up in the moment. Hope filled her; maybe there was a chance, maybe there was a fire waiting to be kindled…But then, as their kiss lengthened, Billy’s passion steadily growing, Olivia’s waned; to her it felt forced, unnatural, and lacking in the romance she knew it needed. Still, she didn’t stop it; unwilling to hurt him, she made no move to push him away.

  Olivia felt like a fool.

  Somehow, she had managed to make her situation even worse…

  Billy Tate walked quickly down the darkened streets of Miller’s Creek; he moved as if he had someplace he needed to be, but the look on his face seemed to say that he had no idea where he was going. Absently, he glanced up at the thousands of pinprick stars and the slyly winking moon. He didn’t know what time it was, but wouldn’t have cared if he had. He could only think of one thing.

  I kissed Olivia!

  He could still remember the moment their lips had touched, the taste of her, the feel of her fingers digging into his arm. It was as if he’d been floating above them, watching from the branches. It hadn’t lasted long, but the truth was that even if it had gone on for hours, it still wouldn’t have been long enough.

  After all the lo
ng years that he had loved Olivia from a distance, had kept his true feelings hidden, Billy couldn’t believe how things had worked out. Proposing to Olivia had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. He’d talked himself out of it more than a dozen times; even that fateful morning, standing in front of the hardware store, he’d been wishy-washy, ready to go in the door one moment, wanting to run back to the bank the next. Somehow, he’d managed to go through with it. Kneeling on the floor of the warehouse, listening as Olivia agreed to become his wife, was undoubtedly the greatest moment of his life. Somehow, it had been even better than the countless times he’d fantasized about it. It was like a fairy tale; now all he had to do was worry about whether they would live happily ever after.

  And there had already been problems…

  The first had come while Billy had been down on bended knee. He had noticed Olivia wavering, about to either reject his proposal or ask for more time to consider, neither of which were outcomes he wanted. Before she could say anything, he’d tried to backtrack, to apologize and say that he was at fault for surprising her, that he’d been wrong to ask; for Billy, it would have been better to take the offer away, anything to avoid being turned down. But then, shockingly, surprisingly, she’d accepted, proving his worries to be unfounded.

  The second problem had come tonight. Ever since he’d heard about the accident, Billy had been half-sick, playing out all sorts of scenarios in his head. Olivia was the love of his life, as well as his best friend. If she’d been hurt…But his relief at finding out that she was safe was soon replaced by a different emotion, something he never would have expected.

  Jealousy.

  When Olivia told him that she’d been talking with a man, with a stranger, and that that same man was responsible for saving her from being run over by Sylvester Eddings, it felt as if he’d been slugged in the gut. He had tried to ignore those jealous feelings, to hide them just as he’d hidden his love for Olivia, but he had failed miserably. His words had surprised even him. Billy supposed that it was because he knew how tenuous, how fragile his engagement to Olivia actually was; he might have been a dreamer, but he wasn’t a fool. One good knock from any direction, and the whole house of cards he’d carefully built would come tumbling down. Once again, he would be alone.

  But now, after he and Olivia had kissed, Billy no longer felt so worried. He found himself relieved, even excited for what lay ahead of them. They would be married, he would go off to the Navy for as long as the war lasted, and then he’d come home and their life together could begin at last.

  Finally, Olivia was all his.

  Chapter Nine

  EVER SO SLOWLY, Peter began to wake. As his head cleared, he started to wonder when he’d fallen asleep and which of his fellow soldiers had taken first watch. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel cold, even though it had been months since they’d had adequate blankets or coats. He hoped that someone had put on some coffee.

  But then, as Peter tentatively opened his eyes, the brightness of the morning sun made his head hurt so badly that he saw stars.

  “Verdammte Scheiße,” he mumbled.

  “What was that?” a woman’s voice answered.

  Instantly, Peter shot wide awake. Even though his temples throbbed so badly that he felt sick to his stomach, he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. He was in a bedroom. Beside him, the curtain had been raised a couple of inches to allow for a little sunlight. A clock ticked steadily on the nightstand, keeping time far more slowly than his pounding heart. At the foot of the bed in which he lay was a dresser; a mirror hung above it, facing him. Staring at his reflection, Peter was shocked; he looked exhausted, his hair matted to his scalp with sweat, dark circles beneath his eyes, his pallor as pale as a ghost. And there, sitting in a chair beside the dresser, looking at him with concern, was Olivia.

  “I didn’t understand what you said,” she told him, setting aside the book she had been reading and rising to stand by his bedside.

  It was then that Peter understood he’d made a terrible mistake.

  He’d spoken in German.

  “It…it was nothing…” he hastily explained, searching for his English like a drowning man searching for a floating log. “I must’ve been…dreaming…”

  Olivia smiled at him. Looking at her, Peter’s heart started to pound, just like when he’d first seen her. Coming to stand beside his bed, the sunlight catching her hair, she looked like an angel, even more beautiful to him than before. But as spellbound as he was, he was still panicked. Desperately, he tried to get his bearings, to understand exactly what had happened to him.

  “Where…where am I…?” he asked.

  “You’re in my home,” she explained. “It was the closest place I could think to bring you.”

  Peter tried to sit up on his elbows, but moving caused another wave of pain and nausea to wash over him. Wincing, he fell back against the bed, his agony even worse.

  “Easy,” Olivia soothed. “The doctor said that it’s going to take time for you to get better. There’s no need to try to do too much. You need your rest.”

  “The…the doctor…” Peter repeated. “What…what happened…?”

  “Don’t you remember?” she asked. “The truck was heading right for us. You pulled me out of the way and then it hit you.”

  Slowly, it all began to come back to Peter: the truck, his fear for Olivia’s safety, getting hit, the whole story. He reached up and felt the huge bump on the back of his head. Bandages ran the length of his right arm, all the way down to the wrist, even covering the cuts that had been made by his handcuffs when the train had crashed.

  “How…long have I been asleep…?” he asked.

  “A little more than a full day. It’s late in the afternoon on Wednesday.”

  Peter nodded as if he understood; ever since he’d been captured back in the forest in France, he’d had no idea what day of the week it was.

  “And you’ve been watching me sleep?”

  Olivia looked away for a moment, as if she might have been a bit embarrassed. “I haven’t been in here for long,” she explained. “When I came back from work, I decided to sit and read. I thought that if you woke, it would be better for you to see a familiar face.” She paused before adding, “Besides, you may have saved my life yesterday. It’s the least that I could do.”

  “You took care of me,” he answered. “That was more than enough.”

  Olivia smiled. “Is there anyone you’d like me to call?” she asked.

  Peter’s first thought was that she was asking him whether he had a wife or a girlfriend, but he quickly put it aside as foolish wishful thinking; that he was smitten with her didn’t mean the attraction was mutual, not necessarily. He shook his head. “No, there isn’t.”

  “What about your family?” she pressed.

  Unable to hold her eye, Peter looked away. He thought about his mother. If she was still alive, she was surely suffering, but as hard as it was to accept, neither of them could do anything for each other, not now. “My parents…neither of them…they’re not in my life anymore…” he explained.

  “I’m sorry,” Olivia replied.

  “Don’t be. It all happened a long time ago and far from here.”

  “Where are you from?”

  Peter hesitated, thinking of his father. “Pennsylvania.”

  “That’s an awfully long way from here,” Olivia said. “What with the war and the restrictions on travel, it’s not often that you see a man your age just wandering about.” As she spoke, Peter thought she looked a little sheepish, as if she was uncomfortable prying. “It got me to thinking that you must be a soldier.”

  Olivia wasn’t asking him a direct question, but Peter understood that it was one all the same. “You’re right,” he began, trying to think ahead through his lie, fearful that he would stumble badly enough to give himself away. “But not in the way you might think. I have a deferment, because of my job.” With every word he spoke, his confidence grew, the made-up tale g
etting easier to tell. “I probably won’t ever wear a uniform, but I’m doing my part, like everyone else.”

  “It sounds exciting.”

  “Some days, I suppose.”

  Deep down, Peter knew that lying to Olivia was wrong, but there was another part of him, an insistent voice, that kept telling him that speaking the truth meant being hauled away, never to see her again. He’d come into town to turn himself in to the sheriff, Olivia’s father, and to lead the law to where Otto hid. It had all seemed so simple. But meeting Olivia, feeling the way he did when he was around her, made him want to be by her side as long as he could. Her beauty, the sound of her voice, the way that she smiled all drove him to stay by her side. Peter was filled with a sense of hope that somehow, some way, he could have her. He couldn’t let it end, not yet, even if it meant that he had to lie through his teeth.

  “So this job of yours,” she said. “What is it exactly?”

  Peter paused. “I can’t tell you that,” he answered. “All I can say is that it’s important to the war effort.”

  Instead of cutting off Olivia’s curiosity, Peter’s response seemed to inflame it further. “It’s a secret?” she prodded, her eyes sparkling with interest.

  “One of national security,” he lied, digging his hole deeper.

  “What branch of the service do you work with?”

  “Olivia, I told you…”

  “Okay, okay,” she replied. “I won’t keep trying. As long as what you do is put to use against those terrible Germans, it’s all right with me.”

  Peter’s heart felt like it stopped beating.

  “When the war started,” she continued, “I used to go to the movies and watch the newsreels and be so afraid. I couldn’t believe all of those people cheering Hitler, waving those horrible flags, shouting for the soldiers as they marched by, bloodthirsty for war. It made me sick.” Olivia frowned, shaking her head a little at the unwelcome memory. “I know I shouldn’t say it, but all of those people are getting exactly what’s coming to them.”

 

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