She studied him closely, her dark blue eyes serious. “I appreciate that. And after I’ve had some time to really think about it, I imagine it won’t bother me quite so much. But I don’t want you strong-arming people to make my life easier.”
Feeling properly chastised, Owen gave her a little salute. “I promise I’ll do my best to respect your wishes. Or at least talk to you first.”
She touched his hand. “Okay. Now, let’s get some food. I’m starving.”
Lunch went quickly, too quickly from Owen’s perspective. He was pleased to discover that not only did they have a lot of common favorite authors, their tastes in movies and music were also similar. They both hated musicals and loved Buddy Holly. They weren’t in agreement though, on the rock ’n’ roller from Memphis, Elvis Presley.
“I much prefer Sinatra. Elvis is a little too flashy for my tastes.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Half the girls at Berea were head over heels in love with him. More than half.”
“Were you?”
She dipped her chin and looked at her nails. “Not really. I like his music, but he doesn’t hold much appeal for me beyond that.”
“So I don’t have to worry about you wanting to see his movies, I take it?”
“No,” she said, laughing. “Not only do I not like his acting, his movies are mostly musicals, which we both agreed we hate.”
“What about country music or bluegrass?”
“Jack’s more into country and western,” Sarah said, wrinkling her nose. “He and Daddy loved listening to the Grand Ole Opry on Saturday nights. I don’t much care for the music, but I do miss that family time.”
“Mom was a fan, as well,” Owen said. “And she loved the radio serials, The Guiding Light, especially. My father bought her a big stereo a couple of years before he died, and she listened to that thing so much she almost wore the dials out.”
“Did you all have a television?”
He shook his head. “No. But I’ve been thinking about getting one lately. You all?”
“Nope. Daddy said if we got one, we’d spend less time being a family. Though I have to admit, I wouldn’t mind having one from time to time. We had one in the girl’s dormitory at Berea, and it was fun to watch every now and then.”
Owen paid the check and placed his hand at the small of her back as they left the drugstore. “So have I scared you off yet? Or do you still want to go out?”
“I’m not scared.”
Relieved, he took her hand in his and squeezed. “Then what would you like to do?”
“They’re re-running North by Northwest at the theater this weekend. Have you seen it?” Sarah asked.
Owen confessed that he hadn’t. “I don’t get out to the movies too often. What about you?”
She shook her head. “No. I wanted to see it last year when it came out, but there was school, and then Daddy got sick, so I didn’t get to.”
“Well, then, I think we should definitely plan on seeing it. What about dinner? Any preferences there?”
“No, not really. Why don’t you pick, since I chose the movie?”
“I think I can handle that. So, what day? Friday? And what time should I pick you up?”
“Why don’t we say six? And you should come down the mountain. We can take my car, and that way you won’t have to drive all the way around. As close as we live, it’s ironic that the road takes so long to travel.”
“If you’re sure, I have no objections.”
“I’ll even let you drive, if you like,” she teased.
He waited while she switched out her purse and his bag, and then walked her back to the desk in the children’s section. “I’ll see you before I go today?”
“Sure. Holler if you need anything.”
Looking around first to make sure no one was watching, he picked up her hand and planted a quick kiss on the back.
“You shouldn’t do that,” she scolded, her smile belying her words.
“But it’s so much fun.” With a wink, he straightened and went back to the genealogy room. Once he was alone in the small room, he let out the grin that had been struggling to break free. It might be ridiculous for a grown man to feel the way he did, but he couldn’t help it. He was giddy, both with excitement and relief.
Later that night, he’d have to write Eli and update him. And maybe ask for some advice on how to proceed with what would be the first courtship Owen had ever conducted.
Chapter Twenty-Four
THE WEATHER WAS WARM FRIDAY night, and Sarah and Owen had the windows rolled halfway down as they drove up in the holler. They’d had dinner and then seen the movie, and as much as she’d enjoyed the film, holding Owen’s hand the whole time had been more thrilling than the on-screen action.
“So was it as good as you expected it to be?” he asked.
“It was. Cary Grant never disappoints, nor does Hitchcock. Thank you for taking me. I hope you enjoyed it, as well.”
His smile flashed in the dark of the car’s interior. “I did.”
Sarah felt completely at ease with him at the wheel. He handled the car with a quiet competence that only served to enhance his attractiveness. Somehow, that he was a good driver wasn’t that much of a surprise.
“So not to bring up a sore subject, but has your mother decided when she’s leaving exactly?” he asked quietly.
“It isn’t a sore subject anymore, not like it was. And my aunt Nancy’s coming up three weeks from now. They’ll drive back down to Georgia together, after Nancy’s had a chance to visit a few people.”
“Has your sister backed off any?”
She looked out the window, watching as the trees on the roadside appeared and vanished in the headlights. “No. Well, she’s shut her mouth, but the disapproval rolls off of her in waves. It’s all I can do not to slap the silliness out of her. I don’t understand how Mama can stand to go to Kathy’s house and stay overnight, much less for several days in a row. And that’s a very un-Christian-like attitude for me to take.”
“Maybe. Or maybe it’s just honest. You’re not glossing things over. You shouldn’t have to, not with me. I hope you know that.”
Sarah gently poked him in the arm. “I don’t know you well enough to be completely forthcoming with you yet. I don’t want to scare you away.”
They’d reached her house, and Owen parked the car. “Not a chance.”
She had left the front porch light on, and bugs were swarming it, trying to figure out how to get into the heat of the bulb itself.
“We’ll go in the back,” Sarah said as they got out of the car. “I don’t feel like fighting that horde of skeeters and moths.”
They were quiet as they went into the kitchen, and Sarah didn’t turn the overhead light on, opting instead for a small lamp on the end of the counter. The glow it cast was intimate, and for an instant, she wondered if it were too intimate. She discounted the thought almost as soon as she had it.
She set her purse on the table. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Sure.” Owen had stopped just a step inside the door, and he loosened his tie. “Do you mind if I take this off?”
“Not at all. You’ve been tugging at it all night.”
He gave a short bark of embarrassed laughter. “I was hoping you hadn’t noticed that.”
As she got the coffee pot ready to perk, Sarah sent him a look over her shoulder. “It was hard to miss. I take it you aren’t used to wearing a tie?”
“No. I typically avoid them like the plague.”
“Well, next time we go out, you’re excused from having to wear one.” She got the cream out of the refrigerator.
Owen grinned. “So you want to go out again?”
Sarah flushed, realizing how presumptuous her words had been. �
�I suppose I wouldn’t mind.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. It was a happy smile, an intimate smile, and Sarah felt something inside her relax.
Once the coffee was ready, they went back out onto the screened porch. The light from the kitchen wasn’t terribly bright, but it served well enough so they could see to get to the glider.
“I’ve been wondering something,” Sarah said. “What is it you do, exactly?”
Owen stretched his arm along the back of the glider. “A little of this, a little of that. I do a lot of correspondence with people from around the world who are interested in the history of this region. I do some genealogy for people. Sometimes I’ll look up deeds, property histories, that sort of thing. When my parents and brother died, I inherited everything, including my father’s portion of the hardware store, which my uncle bought from me. I made some investments with part of that money, and they’ve paid off nicely. I spend some time managing those, as well.”
“Did you ever go to college?”
To Sarah’s surprise, Owen stiffened. He leaned over and set down his coffee cup, then settled back, but the tension didn’t leave his body.
“No. I never graduated high school, never mind went to college.”
Stunned, Sarah gaped at him. “But you’re so well read, so intelligent. You’re pulling my leg.”
His laugh was self-deprecating. “I am telling you the God’s honest truth. I did get a high school certificate by correspondence course, but I dropped out of school in the eighth grade.”
Feeling that the story behind that was complicated, Sarah put down her own mug and turned to half-face him, tucking her legs underneath her.
“What happened?” she asked quietly. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
Owen’s hand rested next to her shoulder, and he turned it so that he was touching her arm. Sarah was wearing a short-sleeved dress, and the way he played with the top of her sleeve sent a shiver down her spine.
“I got embarrassed when I was in eighth grade. There was a girl I liked, and when I went to ask her to go to the spring dance with me, it didn’t go well. I had a… I don’t know what to call it… an attack of some sort. I left school and ran all the way home. My mother sent me to her brother in Laurel County, and I didn’t come back until that fall. By then, everybody knew about ‘crazy’ Owen Campbell, and they wouldn’t let it go. I finally stopped fighting them and quit school. I went back to my uncle’s and didn’t come back here until after Harlan died.”
“I’m sorry,” Sarah said. “I’d heard that you went to Laurel County for a while, but I didn’t know you’d quit school. That had to be hard for you, in more ways than one.”
He shrugged. “I never cared much for school. I loved learning, but school itself? I would have quit sooner if my father let me. I think it broke his heart when I quit.”
The pain that still echoed in his voice told Sarah more than words that his father’s heart hadn’t been the only one to break. She reached up and took hold of his hand, pulling it down into her lap where she cradled it with both of hers.
The conversation moved on to lighter topics from there. At some point, the night turned chilly, and Owen took off his jacket to slide it around her shoulders. Even so, they kept talking. When she went inside to go to the bathroom and saw that it was nearly one o’clock in the morning, she was shocked. The time had passed so quickly.
Owen was on his feet, looking out into the yard when she went back outside. He turned to her with a rueful smile. “I checked my watch. I didn’t know it was so late. I’m sorry.”
Sarah waved away the apology. “No, no. I didn’t realize the time, either. I was enjoying our talk.”
“Well, regardless, I probably should head up the mountain.”
Even though she knew he was right, Sarah was disappointed. “I’ll get your flashlight.” She grabbed it from where it lay on the kitchen counter and, with heavy reluctance, took it back out to him. “Are you okay to walk home this late?”
Owen’s smile was visible even through the darkness. “I’ll be fine. Are you okay to stay here by yourself? I know your mom is leaving soon, but I worry.”
Crossing her arms, Sarah moved to stand beside him. “I guess we’ll find out. I’d rather know now, when she’s only a short car trip away, than after she’s halfway across the country. But I think I’ll be fine. I’ll lock up once you leave.”
He rocked back and forth on his feet. Finally, he reached and touched her hair. “I don’t want to go. I want to stay here and talk more. But I need to go, I guess.”
Sarah swallowed, her heart pounding. He brought up his other hand, found the pins holding up her hair, and started removing them. In moments, her hair was cascading down her back. Owen put the pins in his pocket and then threaded his fingers into her hair. The touch was soft, but sure, and Sarah closed her eyes against the pleasure of it. She sighed and swayed, and he pulled her closer, his hands cradling her head.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice low.
Her eyelids felt as if they weighed a ton each, but Sarah managed to open them. When she looked up at Owen, the heat in his gaze seared her.
“I’d like to kiss you, Sarah Browning. May I?”
As much as she was able to with his hands still in her hair, Sarah nodded her consent. She watched as he lowered his face to hers, but when his lips brushed hers, her eyelids fluttered shut again. She grasped his arms, and Owen deepened the kiss.
Though not the first time Sarah had been kissed, it was by far the most pleasurable. Owen’s lips were firm, but gentle against hers, and when he drew back, she gave a small whimper of protest. The sound halted him as though he had run into a wall, and he dipped his head again.
The next kiss wasn’t as sweet, but carried a hint of something hotter. Sarah slid her hands up to wrap her arms around his neck. The movement triggered a response, and Owen deepened the kiss. Heat flared between them, a little overwhelming, and Sarah turned her head. She gasped for breath as his mouth trailed across her jaw and found a sensitive spot beneath her ear. He lingered there, then let out a long, shaky breath.
One of his hands drifted out of her hair and down her back, pulling her closer to him. His lips trailed up to her temple, and he exhaled on a quiet groan.
“I should apologize for being so forward, perhaps,” he said in her ear, “but I won’t. I’m not sorry.”
Sarah shook her head, struggling to pull her scrambled thoughts together enough to form words. Reluctantly, she pulled her arms from around his neck and stepped back. “I’m not sorry, either.” She raised her fingers to her lips as if to verify what had happened was real.
Owen ran his hands through his hair. He shook his head, and Sarah was secretly pleased to see that he looked as stunned as she felt.
“Um, would you like to go for a drive with me Sunday afternoon?” he asked. “I have to go to Whitesburg to pick up some seed for Uncle Eli. If you wanted, we could make a date of it.”
“What time on Sunday? If Kathy’s up to it, they’re supposed to come up here for dinner after church. I wouldn’t be able to get away until about two or so.”
“That would work for me. I would have to drive, though. I’ll need my truck.”
“Okay. Then I’d love to go with you. I’d invite you to dinner, but I don’t want to torture you by asking you to sit through that.” Sarah was surprised when he laughed, as she’d been serious. She told him as much.
Owen ran his hand over his face, no doubt to hide his grin. “I appreciate you looking out for me. I guess we’re even, now.” He reached up to touch her face. “I’ll pick you up Sunday. Go on in and lock up. I’ll wait until you’re safe.”
Sarah was sorely tempted to throw herself in his arms and beg for another kiss, but she managed to resist, just. “I had fun tonight. Thank y
ou again.”
“You’re welcome. And thank you for consenting to go with me.” The heated look came back in his eyes, and he groaned. “Go inside, please. Before I forget I’m a gentleman and cart you off to the top of the mountain.”
Shooting him a happy smile, Sarah hustled into the kitchen. She paused with her hand on the inside door. “Goodnight, Owen Campbell.”
He tipped an imaginary hat. “Goodnight, Sarah Browning. I’ll see you soon.”
Knowing that if she didn’t lock the door, Owen would stand there all night, she forced herself to close the door. The door was solid wood all the way up, with no window, so she couldn’t see him. But as she turned the key in the lock and slipped the bolt above it, she laid her hand flat against the surface.
Sarah had never felt such an attraction, and she didn’t quite know what to do with it. She reveled in the feelings that coursed through her, half afraid of them at the same time. She wondered if her mother had gone through the same thing with her father and determined that as soon as she got a chance to talk to Eliza alone, she’d ask.
Chapter Twenty-Five
OWEN AND SARAH QUICKLY FELL into a routine. Nearly every evening, they would meet, either at the pool or at her house. Many nights, he’d have supper with her and Eliza. He went into town more regularly than he’d ever gone before, and more often than not, he and Sarah would have lunch together.
They spent hours talking, about everything and nothing, getting to know one another. Always in the back of Owen’s mind were his two secrets—that he was H. O. McLemore and that he was a shifter. He was almost certain that he could trust Sarah with the truth about himself, but he wanted to wait a little while longer. Additionally, he knew she was upset over her mother’s upcoming journey, and he didn’t want to add to the burden. He knew he had to tell her soon, but not yet.
Firefly Hollow Page 15