Take Me Home (9781455552078)

by Garlock, Dorothy

“Then you’re a fool.”

  “What?!” Billy snapped.

  “I may not know what war is firsthand, but from what I do know, no man should thirst for the battlefield. More often than not, when soldiers come home they aren’t the same as when they left, if they return at all.”

  “Not me! I’ll be even—”

  “He’s right,” John interrupted. “I’ve told both of you before, but it’s my hope that neither of you have to find out what war is really like.”

  Olivia noticed the way her father looked at Peter; it was as if he was seeing him in a new light, which she supposed he had.

  It was clear that Billy was still angry. For a moment, Olivia thought that he was going to argue some more, but he managed to hold his tongue; she supposed that it was one thing to spar with Peter, but another to openly disagree with her father. His hands, which had bunched into fists when Peter had called him a fool, trembled at his sides. His face was flushed a deep red.

  “Let’s go, Olivia,” he said, and headed for the door.

  She turned to look at Peter. He still appeared calm, though she wondered what he was thinking; after all, she was about to leave with another man.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said.

  Olivia nodded.

  “Are you coming?” Billy asked, holding the door open.

  Taking a deep breath, she followed him outside.

  Chapter Fifteen

  WHEN THE KITCHEN DOOR clicked shut behind them, Billy grabbed Olivia’s hand; his touch was too tight, sweaty, and charged with either nerves or excitement, she couldn’t tell which. Without hesitation, he started toward the backyard.

  “Come on,” he said, smiling expectantly.

  Olivia held her ground, pulling them both to a stop. “Not tonight, Billy,” she said. “I’d rather we just go for a walk instead.”

  “But I thought that we could…” He didn’t finish the thought, although Olivia knew exactly how it ended; he was hoping that, if they were once again sitting beneath the evergreen, they’d resume kissing, something that Olivia didn’t want. Though she was still unhappy with how Billy had treated Peter, making baseless accusations, she knew that there was little point in discussing it further; he’d just plead ignorance of his jealousy. Besides, there was a far more pressing matter that they needed to discuss.

  “It’s a nice night,” she offered.

  Billy hesitated, torn between his own desires and hers. “All right,” he finally agreed, his disappointment as obvious as the moon in the sky above.

  For the first couple of blocks, they walked in silence. Since his big plans had been dashed, Billy had soon let go of her hand, for which Olivia was grateful. The night was pleasant so she tried to lose herself in its details; a dog’s bark, lights shining in the houses they passed, a faraway car horn. When they passed Geraldine Tubbs’s house, a snippet of Benny Goodman drifted out an open window, a serenade that lasted only a couple of steps. But try as she might, Olivia couldn’t keep from thinking about what she needed to do.

  I’m going to break my best friend’s heart…

  While Olivia had agreed with Grace and Peter about the need to be honest with Billy, she still didn’t have a clue what to say. All she knew was that by revealing the truth, by being honest with him, she would hurt him, a prospect that saddened her deeply. Try as she might, she’d yet to be able to find the words. But even though Billy had shown up unexpectedly, she doubted that an extra night to consider her options would have helped.

  As they walked, Olivia glanced at Billy. They were passing beneath a streetlight, and just then, for an instant, it felt like it used to before he’d proposed, before they’d kissed, back to a time when there weren’t any troubles between them. But Olivia wasn’t a fool; she knew that no matter how hard she wished otherwise, there was no going back. There was only forward, which meant somehow finding the words…

  But then, suddenly, it was Billy who broke the silence. “I hope you don’t mind my stopping by like that.”

  “No…no, it was fine…”

  “Are you sure? If not, I can take you back home.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Billy answered. He stopped walking and Olivia did the same. “It’s just that, well, I know we agreed to meet for lunch tomorrow, but after we hung up the telephone, I got to thinking.” He paused, his brow furrowed, as if he was weighing what to say. “There are some things we’ve never talked about, that maybe we’ve been avoiding…important things…”

  For an instant, a flame of hope flickered to life in Olivia. The thought suddenly struck her that Billy might be suffering from some of the same doubts and worries that plagued her. Was it possible that he was reconsidering his proposal? For the first time, she allowed herself to believe that breaking their engagement might be easier than she’d expected.

  “I agree,” she said. “We do need to talk.”

  “Great!” he answered enthusiastically. “So, I know this might not be what you want to hear,” he said, leaving Olivia almost breathless with anticipation, “but I think we should get married next week.”

  Olivia was stunned speechless; the fantasy she’d constructed had been shattered into a million tiny pieces. “What…” she finally managed.

  “Just hear me out,” he said. “My father met with Maurice Hendricks, pulled a few strings, called in a couple of favors, and managed to rent out the Wiltshire Hotel ballroom for a reception!” Billy explained, the words tumbling out of his mouth faster than a rabbit in spring. “He had to snatch it up quickly. Turns out that it’s leased for some traveling war bond fund-raiser in a couple of weeks. If he’d waited, there was a chance it could’ve—”

  But by then, Olivia was no longer listening. Much to her amazement, things were even worse than she’d assumed. Billy was like her mother, making plans for her life without even bothering to ask what she thought or wanted. All of the frustration and helplessness she’d been feeling suddenly boiled over.

  “Stop it, Billy!” she snapped angrily, holding up her hands, cutting him off in midsentence. “Just stop!”

  “What…what is it?” he asked, his eyes wide, confused by her sudden outburst. “Is there something wrong with the Wiltshire? If you don’t like it, I can try to talk to my father, see if we can change it, but he won’t be happy…”

  Listening to him, all the anger drained from Olivia and was replaced by a sadness so great that it brought tears to her eyes. Billy was clueless. She didn’t know if it was honest, or if he was even aware that he was deluding himself, but he behaved as if he had no idea that she was considering breaking their engagement. Fighting her emotions, she struggled to go through with what she knew needed to be done.

  “It’s not about the hotel…” she began. “It’s more than that. It’s something that’s been on my mind ever since you asked me to marry you…” Again and again, silence threatened to descend on Olivia, to overwhelm her and make her swallow the words she knew would cause so much pain. But she refused to let it happen; not just for her sake, but for Billy’s, too. “I…I can’t do this,” Olivia finally admitted, tears cascading down her cheeks. “I can’t be your wife…”

  Billy stared at her, dumbstruck, his face twisting from one reaction to the next; disbelief became incomprehension before making an odd turn into a stifled chuckle, as if she’d told a joke that wasn’t particularly funny. Olivia imagined that his expression was much like hers had been when he’d proposed, with neither of them able to comprehend what they were hearing.

  “I…I don’t understand…” he managed, although she imagined that somewhere, deep down, he knew exactly what was happening.

  “I’m sorry,” Olivia said truthfully, trying to apply a bandage to his wounds before she’d even inflicted them. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I made a mistake, Billy. When you proposed, I should’ve been honest, I should have turned you down, but I didn’t.” Before her eyes, Billy began to show the effects of her words; his
shoulders slumped and his face hardened, but still she pressed on. “It should never have gotten this far, but now that it has, it has to stop, for both of our sakes.” Purposefully, Olivia slipped the engagement ring off her finger and then placed it in Billy’s hand; she pressed his fingers around it out of fear that, in his current state, he would drop it.

  For longer than Olivia might have expected, Billy remained silent. She wouldn’t have blamed him for shouting at her, for letting his temper rage at the thought that she had deceived him. She also wouldn’t have thought any less of him had he surrendered to his sadness and disappointment. But instead he just stared. When he finally did speak, his voice was little more than a whisper.

  “Don’t…don’t you love me…?”

  Olivia swallowed a sob. “Of course I do,” she answered. “I always will, no matter what, but not in the way that I should if I’m to be your wife. You deserve better than that.”

  “But you said ‘yes,’” Billy argued. “You accepted…”

  “I know, but I shouldn’t have.”

  “So you lied to me?” he asked accusingly, the first flare of anger in his voice.

  “It…it wasn’t a lie…” Olivia struggled.

  “Then what was it?”

  “You leave for the Navy in little more than a month,” Olivia explained. “You’ll be thousands of miles from home, fighting in a war. You could be…killed…” she said, uncomfortable saying the word. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you doing all that with a broken heart. If something happened to you, if I thought for a minute it was because I’d rejected you, it’d be more than I could bear. So I said ‘yes,’” she added, feeling sick to her stomach, “to keep from hurting you.”

  “Looks like that didn’t work like you planned,” Billy said sarcastically.

  Olivia didn’t answer.

  “What about that night in your backyard?” he asked. “Did you kiss me because you wanted to or was it out of pity?”

  His accusation stung. “That’s not why it happened, not at all,” Olivia answered. “Sitting there, watching my parents, things got carried away. What we did…it wasn’t us. We aren’t supposed to be like that. In my heart, I know that we’re friends, not lovers.”

  Billy stared hard at her. “Do you remember what you said to me the night of my mother’s funeral?”

  “Of course I do,” Olivia answered.

  How could she ever forget? She’d come over to his house after the funeral, watching from across the room as Billy stood next to his father, shaking hands and accepting condolences from everyone in Miller’s Creek. But then, just after the first guests had begun to leave, she’d caught Billy’s eye; he’d been so distraught that he was almost trembling, the look on his face imploring her to take him far away from all the pain and misery he felt. Without a word, Olivia had walked over and grabbed Billy by the hand. The two of them had gone down to the creek and sat beneath the same drooping tree under which they’d first met. For hours, until long after the sun had set and the night sky had filled with stars, she had held him as he sobbed, letting out all the grief he’d been holding inside. She’d kissed his forehead, wiped away his tears, and tried her best to soothe him, whispering the same words into his ear, over and over again.

  “I’ll never leave you,” she’d said, trying to reassure him. “Even when we’re old, I’ll always be there for you, as sure as the sun will rise in the morning.”

  And she’d meant it, just not in the way Billy apparently had.

  Looking at his face now, nearly ten years later, she saw much of the same grief and desperation she had then.

  “Olivia, please,” he said. “This isn’t the way it was supposed to be. You promised that you’d always be there, that we’d be together.”

  “But I don’t love you that way,” she explained.

  Billy shook his head. “But you could! I know it,” he declared, almost begging her to understand. “The kiss we shared proves it! It can be the beginning. Once we’re married and I come back from the Navy, we can make it work. All it will take is time. You’ll see. You just have to give it a chance. Give me a chance!”

  Immediately, Olivia thought of Peter. From the moment they had met, she’d felt a spark between them. It was so strong she couldn’t deny it. To back down now, to give in for fear of hurting Billy any further, meant that she would never again feel his embrace or kiss his lips. As Billy’s wife, she would spend the rest of her days wondering if she’d turned her back on her only chance at love.

  And for that reason, she couldn’t waver.

  “I can’t marry you,” she said, determined to hold her ground.

  Billy’s face darkened. His hands bunched into fists, his jaw tightened. He looked so angry, so unlike himself, that Olivia took a step back.

  “This is all that bastard’s fault” he growled.

  “Wh-who…?” Olivia blurted, taken aback by his outburst.

  “That lying coward who’s afraid to fight!” Billy shouted. “Nothing’s been the same since he came to town. I don’t give a damn if he saved your life. He’s ruined everything!”

  Olivia knew that Billy was grasping at straws, blaming anything and everything for her not wanting to marry him, but she couldn’t help but wonder if there was something she’d said or done to give herself away. Had someone other than Grace seen them kiss? Had Billy heard a rumor?

  “This isn’t because of him,” she said, believing it to be true; even if Peter Baird had never entered her life, Olivia had no doubt that marrying Billy would have been a mistake.

  Billy didn’t seem at all convinced. “You’re lying!” Angrily, he reached out and grabbed her arm. His fury had control of him, making him do things Olivia knew he wouldn’t have if he’d been of the right mind, but that didn’t keep her from crying out in pain, his grip too tight.

  “Stop it!” she shouted. “You’re hurting me!”

  But Billy wasn’t listening. “What all have you shared with him?” he demanded. “Was it a kiss? A promise you have no intention of keeping? What sweet words have you whispered in his ear beneath the evergreen tree?”

  Olivia didn’t know what to say. No matter what, not now certainly, she wouldn’t admit to Billy that he was partly right, that she had kissed Peter and that it had played a role in her breaking off their engagement. She could spare him that much, at least. But with every passing second, Billy’s grip continued to tighten. Olivia looked around, sure that someone had heard them arguing, that they would shout and bring Billy back to his senses, but nothing stirred in the darkness, no doors opened, and no lights were switched on.

  “Why do you want that coward?” Billy hollered as he shook her; though he was thin of build, not nearly as muscular as Peter, he was still far stronger than her. “What does he have that I don’t? Tell me. Can he offer you a future? A life like I could give you? What will your mother—”

  When Olivia slapped Billy hard across his face, whatever else it was he had wanted to say remained unspoken. In the quiet of the night, the blow sounded loud, like the crack of a gun. Olivia gasped, her hand retreating to cover her mouth as tears raced down her cheeks.

  Being struck changed Billy. Gone was the raging, out-of-control bully who had badgered her with questions and accusations; in his place was the young man who’d always stood by her side, her friend. Shock and shame were written on his face. He still had hold of her arm. Billy looked at his hand, as shocked to find it there as Olivia. He slowly released his grip, like the jaws of a bear trap being pulled back; the moment Olivia could break free, she did, rubbing at the red marks on her skin.

  “Oh, Olivia,” Billy said. “I’m so sorry…”

  That was all he got to say before Olivia turned and ran. Sobs shook her body but she kept going through a storm of tears. From behind her, she heard footfalls, then shouts.

  “Olivia, wait!” Billy yelled. “Please wait!”

  But she ignored him. She kept expecting him to catch up to her, to again grab her arm and show
er her with explanations and apologies, anything he could think of to make things right between them. But by the end of the street, when she turned toward home, running as fast as she could, there was only silence chasing her.

  Billy watched Olivia run off into the night, soon disappearing from sight. He knew that he could have caught her if he’d wanted to, but as upset as she was, he doubted she would’ve listened to anything he had to say. He’d made a mess of things, maybe botched them so badly that they could never be repaired. If there was to be a chance to fix his mistake, he had to give her some time and space. Maybe tomorrow or the day after, Olivia would be ready to listen to reason.

  “Damn it all,” he muttered to himself.

  This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. Sure, when he’d proposed to Olivia, he’d heard the doubt in her voice, seen it in her eyes. He had even tried taking the offer back, wanting to end it on his own rather than be forced to listen to her reject him. But then she’d said “yes.” Still, even though he’d known that it all hung by a thread, he’d clung to the belief that he and Olivia would be husband and wife.

  But now it was all ruined.

  Somewhere down deep in his gut, Billy knew this had something to do with the stranger. He had always been jealous of any man who got too close to Olivia, who made her smile. Even when they were kids, when someone wormed his way into their lives, he’d struggle to pretend that nothing was the matter, but he had seethed inside. He knew that it was irrational, but right now, with what he’d just lost, he had to wonder…

  Until Peter Baird showed up, everything had been going as Billy had hoped. So who was this man who’d swooped in and destroyed all he’d wanted? Was this man, this lying coward, willing to fight for Olivia’s hand?

  We’ll just have to find out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  PETER STOOD BEHIND the closed door to his room and listened. Late-morning sunlight streamed through the window, fell across the floor, and reached toward him to warm his skin, but he paid it no mind. He’d gotten up hours ago, dressing in the murky darkness of dawn, and waited patiently. Before long, the Marstens had woken but he stayed where he was. Peter knew that he could have opened the door, gone to the kitchen, and shared breakfast with the family, as he’d done for days, but he hadn’t wanted to be asked any questions, especially any about his plans. He hadn’t wanted to lie; he’d already done too much of that.