“A little of both, I guess. I’ve never fit in with the rest of the world, not really. And I’ve never told anyone what I am. Harlan didn’t even know, and he was my brother. He never accepted me for everything else that I am, so I couldn’t see him accepting that I’m a shifter.”
“No offense to your late brother, but Harlan was never the most thoughtful person. If he’d been much more close-minded, he would have been a potato.”
Owen conceded the point with a nod. “True. But, Eli, there are way more people like Harlan than like you. What if I did reach out to her, let her in, and she turns out to be like him?”
Eli crossed his ankle over his knee. “Your instincts are better than that.”
“Not where she’s concerned, they’re not. She mixes me up inside. I either clam up when I’m around her, or I say the wrong thing. She’s home to stay, from what I gather, and I’m not about to move off the mountain. I can’t avoid her. I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you want to do?”
Owen felt his cheeks flush.
Eli gave a soft laugh. “Okay. Well, there’s that. What does your gut say? Ignore your head and tell me what your instincts are saying.”
Running his hands through his hair, Owen sighed. “I want her. Period. The end.”
“Then don’t you think you should find out if she feels the same way? Owen, what if she isn’t like Harlan? What if she’s more like my Amy or your mother?”
“What if she isn’t?”
Eli stood. “Then find out one way or another. Don’t keep torturing yourself, and her, by going on like this. It serves no purpose.” He walked toward the door, then threw a question back that gave Owen pause. “Do you think the kind of person who comes to that pool, who respects it the way your Sarah seems to, could really be like Harlan?”
Owen shook his head.
His eyes full of sympathy, Eli held out his hand. “Come on. Amy’ll have supper ready by now. There’s no need for you to rush off. I think you do need to think on this for a little while. Stay here like you planned. But you’re going to have to give serious consideration to making things right with this girl, Owen. I don’t think you’ll rest until you do.”
Chapter Fourteen
FOR THE FIRST FEW DAYS after the encounter with Owen, every time the bell jingled and someone opened the door at the library, she jumped. By the time a week had passed with no appearance by Owen, Sarah’s nerves were frazzled.
That Saturday, she met Gilly for lunch after her shift at the library. They took a booth in the back of the drugstore’s cafe, which closed at one o’clock on Saturday. Once they had their food, Gilly’s mother, Rosemarie, locked the door and turned the sign around to show “Closed.”
“There are some advantages to being the owners,” Rosemarie said. “You girls take your time and clean up when you’re done. Sarah, you ought to come by the house tonight for a sleepover. You haven’t done that since you’ve been home.”
“Mother, we’re too old to have sleepovers. We’re adults now,” Gilly said with an impish smile. “But you really should consider it, Sarah. We could stay up all night and giggle, just like we used to.”
Sarah smiled uncertainly. “I don’t know. I hate to leave Mama by herself.”
Rosemarie patted her on the shoulder. “Well, you think about it. Holler if you need anything.” She excused herself and left.
Gilly turned to Sarah. “Okay, are you going to tell me what has you so jumpy? You look like you’ve not slept in a week.”
Sarah pushed her mashed potatoes around on her plate. “I haven’t. Not really.” She sighed. “You’ve heard us mention our neighbor, Owen Campbell, right?”
“Owen? Sure. He comes in here from time to time. What about him?”
“He comes in here? That’s great. Now I have to worry about running into him here, too,” Sarah groaned. She let her head fall back against the red Naugahyde booth and closed her eyes. “I’m so stupid.”
“Now, I know that isn’t true. What makes you say that you are?”
Sarah raised her head and looked across the table at her friend. “Because I got caught trespassing on his land.” She explained the whole situation, including the fact that she had feelings for the man. “Shirley thought he might be shy, that he had a crush on me or something. But no. It turns out he thinks of me as a pest and an interloper. And the worst part? He comes into the library every week, Gilly. I don’t know why he hasn’t been in this week, but I’ve almost bolted every time the door opened. Shirley thinks I’ve lost my mind, and I’m too embarrassed to explain it to her.”
Gilly propped her chin on her hand. “Well, that’s certainly enough to be embarrassed about, but I can’t see Owen holding it against you forever. He’s too nice. He always leaves whoever waits on him a good tip, and he doesn’t have to.” She tipped her head to the side. “So how much of his chest did you see?”
“Gilly!” Sarah ducked her head. “You would pick up on that.”
“Of course I would. So? Does his body match his face? Or is he covered in boils and pustules?”
The ridiculous image made Sarah laugh. “No. He was not covered in boils and pustules. He… he was very attractive. Which makes this whole thing that much harder. He’s a very appealing man, more so than any man I’ve ever met.”
“That does make you want to chew bullets, I imagine. Tell you what, why don’t we go pack a bag for you, and you spend the night with me? We can drive around, take in a movie, and find you some handsome young men to flirt with. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet the love of your life tonight. What do you say?”
“I guess so. As long as Mama’s okay by herself. If she isn’t, do you want to spend the night at my house?”
Gilly stuck out her tongue. “Of course. I don’t care whose house we stay at, but I want to have some fun. Maybe it would be better to stay at your house. That way we can get your mother in on our shenanigans.” She stood. “I’ll go tell my folks, and we can go by the house and let me get a bag together. Okay?”
“Okay,” Sarah agreed. “I’ll clean up.” As she cleared the table and disposed of her half-eaten food, she sighed. She knew Gilly was right; she had to stop crying over spilled milk. She just wished it didn’t hurt so much.
By a week and a half after her lunch with Gilly, Sarah had convinced herself that she was past the blow Owen had dealt her. It didn’t hurt that a handsome young insurance agent, Tony DeWitt, had started trying to woo her, coming in the library for a chat nearly every afternoon or ‘accidentally’ running into her at the drugstore. Though he wasn’t Owen Campbell, his interest was flattering, a soothing balm to a bruised ego. However, his persistence was starting to wear on her, and if he kept pushing her to go out with him, she was going to have to have a very blunt talk with him.
She was working alone in the children’s department after lunch, cleaning up after the departure of a group of students from the local grade school. When Tony came in, she was stacking the child-sized chairs against the wall.
“Hey, pretty girl. Why aren’t you downstairs, lighting up the place?”
Waving away the compliment, Sarah moved on to the next section of chairs. “Because I’m working up here, obviously. Why aren’t you at work?”
“You know I don’t work chained to a desk. I’m getting ready to head down to Buckhorn to visit a customer. Want to go with me?”
The chairs in their place, Sarah shook her head, annoyed by his persistence. Hoping he’d get the message, she didn’t answer. She moved to the checkout desk, where she glanced through all the new library card applications the students had filled out. Tony followed, and Sarah hid a sigh of frustration.
“Tony, you’re a very nice man. But if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times. We’re not allowed to fraternize with the patrons.” Thinking that if sh
e turned her focus to the paperwork he might go away, she gathered the papers and headed downstairs. Undeterred, Tony followed her.
“And I’ve told you, you don’t need this job. You need to find a man who’ll pamper you, take care of you. Come on, Sarah. Come with me.”
The stairs wound down to open into the atrium at the front door. Sarah hoped no one was in the lobby, where they could overhear. To her dismay, not only was there someone there, the someone in question was Owen. His face looking as though it were carved from stone, he had his hand on the glass interior door to the adult’s department. Given the look he shot her and Tony, he’d heard every word. He moved jerkily, holding the door open for her to pass through, but Tony stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“Thanks, buddy, but the lady and I have something to discuss.” Tony’s words were dismissive.
Owen’s jaw clenched so tightly, Sarah could see a muscle ticking, but he nodded and went on inside, the door falling shut behind him with a quiet swish.
“Dog in the manger very often?” she muttered.
“What’s that, sweetheart?” Tony asked.
Sarah tried to count to ten, but that didn’t help her temper. She drew in a deep breath and said a silent prayer for patience. “Listen, Tony, I don’t mean any offense, but I need this job. I’m not looking for a man to take care of me. I can take care of myself. And as nice as you are, I don’t think you need to come around here to see me anymore. I’m not going to go out with you. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t think she had ever seen anyone actually look poleaxed, but at that moment, Tony could have been the poster boy for stunned confusion.
“But I thought…” Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Usually women only get jobs outside the house when they don’t have a man to provide for them, so they can find someone to support them. With your daddy gone, I figured that’s what you were doing.”
Her fingers tightened around the papers. “I know some women do that. But this is 1960, not 1860. Times are changing. I’m not one of those women. I’ve never been one, and God forbid, I never will be. Good day, Tony.” She hurried to the front desk.
Shirley looked up and frowned. “Everything okay? It looked like he hit a nerve.”
Sarah nodded. “He did. I had to get blunt with him. I hated doing that, but he didn’t leave me much choice. Will you be okay if I take five minutes?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks.” Sarah grabbed the key to the women’s room and headed toward the back of the building. She used the time to compose herself, and when she came out, she felt much closer to normal. As she hurried back to the front desk, her steps faltered briefly when she saw Owen there talking to Shirley. Squaring her shoulders, Sarah went around the opposite end and helped the next patron in line.
“Sarah,” Shirley asked when the patrons had been taken care of, “do you have any idea when these two books went out? Mr. Campbell has been waiting for them, and he missed them when he was out of town.”
Sarah took the paper Shirley handed her, which had two book titles written on it in a bold, masculine hand. “The Folklore of Central Appalachia and Haints, Hollers, and Howls,” she read aloud. “As a matter of fact, I do know. I checked them out. I’m sorry. There wasn’t a hold notice on them. I’ve almost finished with them. If you like, I can bring them back in tomorrow,” she said in Owen’s general direction.
“No, take your time. I can get them when you’re done,” he said.
“I thought the two of you were neighbors,” Shirley remarked. “When you’re finished with the books, Sarah, why don’t you simply take them to Owen’s house? It would save him a trip into town.”
Sarah would have been hard pressed to say which of them was more horrified by the suggestion, her or Owen. Their excuses ran over each other as they clamored to come up with reasons that wasn’t a good idea.
Shirley looked from one to the other, holding up her hands, and their voices trailed off. “Okay, I see that wasn’t a welcome suggestion. We’ll plan on holding the books here when Sarah’s finished with them.”
“I’m fine with that,” Owen rushed to say. He picked up the books on the counter and headed out the door after a nod in their direction.
Once he was outside, Shirley turned to Sarah, hands on hips. “Start talking. What in the world is going on between the two of you?”
Looking around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear, Sarah said, “He caught me trespassing on his land. I wasn’t doing anything illicit, I promise. I had a spot that I liked to go to, to read or think, but still, I was trespassing. He’d known about it for some time.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. That’s why he acts like he does around you?”
Sarah nodded. “Apparently so. And then when he came in just now, he overheard Tony say something to me.” She bit her lip. “Shirley, I promise you I’m not seeing Tony. I don’t want to see him, and I’ve not encouraged him. I can’t lose this job.”
Shirley sighed, and Sarah could tell she was a little aggravated. “I know that. I’ve been watching you. You’re one of the best assistants we’ve had here. I know you follow the rules. Callie, maybe not so much. Even so, Tony is going to have to learn to stay away. It hardly matters if you’re encouraging him or not, if he’s interfering with your job duties.”
“I know. And I hope he won’t be back.” She told Shirley what he’d said. “I know that’s a popular opinion even this day and age, but it still aggravates me. My mother raised me to be independent, a true helpmate, not some fragile flower that needs to be ‘pampered.’” She snorted.
“Well, if he does come back, I’ll have a word with him,” Shirley reassured her. “I know you’ve only been here a few months, but we don’t want to lose you.”
Sarah smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks. I’m not eager to leave, either.”
“Now, as to this problem with Owen. Do you think you can manage to put on a brave face when he comes in, or do we need to make other arrangements?”
Sarah considered the question. “I think I can handle it. I guess we’ll find out when he comes in to pick up those books. If I can’t, I’ll let you know.” She rubbed her neck where the muscles had knotted from the tension of the afternoon. “I’m glad the day’s almost over. My head and neck are pounding.”
Shirley laid the back of her hand against Sarah’s forehead. “You feel a little warm. I hope you aren’t coming down with that bug Callie had last week.”
“So do I. I can’t afford to get sick right now.”
After a miserable night spent tossing and turning, Sarah finally drifted into a restless sleep. She didn’t wake up until her mother came in and shook her.
“Sarah? Sarah, wake up. You’re burning up with fever.”
Opening her swollen eyelids, Sarah peered up into her mother’s concerned face. When she tried to swallow, the pain was intense. “I have to go to work.”
Sarah tried to sit up, but Eliza gently pushed her back. “Oh, no, sweetheart. I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere today except to the doctor. You stay right there, and I’ll get you some water.”
Falling back against the pillows, Sarah asked, “Can you call the library?”
“Of course. And the doctor’s office. I’ll be right back.”
Sarah closed her eyes, too tired to hold them open. She gave a brief thought to the books she’d planned to return that day, but even that didn’t keep her awake. Before her mother was downstairs, she’d fallen back asleep.
To her dismay, Sarah was diagnosed with strep throat and wasn’t able to return to work until the following Tuesday. When she clocked in that morning, she apologized profusely to Shirley and the library director. Both assured her that she wasn’t in trouble, and that they understood.
“I wasn’t kidding
when I told you that you’re one of the best assistants we’ve ever had,” Shirley said as she was getting ready to go to lunch later that day. “Are you okay to handle things by yourself down here until I get back?”
“Sure. I’ll be fine.”
Shirley hadn’t been gone five minutes when the door opened, and Owen came in. He stopped short, seeing Sarah by herself, but then continued, placing a stack of books on the counter.
“Hello.”
“Hi.” Sarah’s hands, hidden in her lap behind the tall desk, clenched. She made them relax and forced a polite smile as she stood and went to get his reserved books from the back counter. “I have those books you wanted. I’m sorry I didn’t get them back in here sooner.”
“That’s fine. Shirley mentioned you’ve been ill. I hope it was nothing serious.”
“Just strep throat.” She took his card and checked out the books.
To her surprise, he asked, “So what did you think of the books?”
Sarah shrugged. “They were interesting, especially Folklore. It was written more as a non-fiction book than an entertainment piece.”
“How so?”
Seeing nothing but genuine interest in his gaze, Sarah placed the books side by side. “This one is more along the lines of the dime novels that were written about western life several decades ago.” She tapped the cover of Haints, Hollers, and Howls. “But Folklore takes a more scientific approach, at least in the way it’s presented. The other book is a more fun read, but for information, Folklore has it beat.” She stacked the books and slid them across to him, along with his card. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Not right now, thanks. I’m going to look for some more books, though.” He picked up the books and, with a nod, headed back into the stacks.
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