He kissed her again and wrapped her in a hug that lifted her off the floor. “I love you so much. I’ll contact you as soon as I can, okay?”
Sarah nodded and touched his face. “Okay. Promise me you’ll be careful. Don’t rush too much on the road. You won’t do anyone any good if you wreck getting there.”
“I’ll be careful. You do the same.” After one last kiss, he was gone.
Sarah sat at the kitchen table. Even if his uncle did recover, the loss of their home would be devastating. Her mother’s parents had gone through a house fire when Sarah was a little girl, and the loss had almost been like a death in the family. With a heavy heart, she got ready for work. If there was anything worse than feeling helpless and having to stand by while someone you loved hurt, Sarah didn’t know what it was.
Late Thursday evening, nearly eleven o’clock, Sarah was reading and thinking about going up to bed when the phone rang. Scrambling up from the couch, she hurried into the kitchen. “Hello?”
“Sarah? It’s me.”
“Owen! How’s your uncle?”
“Holding his own, the doctors say. They’re still not sure how things are going to turn out. He’s in Lexington. How are you?”
“I’m okay. I miss you, but I’m okay. How are you?”
He gave a short laugh. “Exhausted. They lost everything. Their oldest daughter’s up in Lexington with Amy, and the rest of us are trying to figure out what to do. I don’t know when I’ll get another chance to call you. I’m sorry.”
Sarah had to clear her throat. “It’s okay. I understand. Do you need anything?”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and she started to think the connection had been lost, but then Owen said, “There is something. If it isn’t too much trouble, can you write me? Let me know how you are, what your days are like? I’ll try to write back, but I can’t make any promises right now.”
“Of course I can. Do I send it to that address you gave me?”
“Yes. I have to go. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Stay safe for me?”
“You, too, Sarah Jane.”
The buzzing of the dial tone sounded in her ear before she could respond, and Sarah reluctantly hung up the phone. She stood with her forehead braced against the wall while tears streamed down her cheeks. Her heart screamed for her to go to him, but she knew that having her down there was the last thing he needed to worry about right now.
Her book forgotten, Sarah shut off the lights downstairs and headed to her bedroom. She didn’t know how much help it would be, but she was determined to send a long, detailed letter to Owen first thing in the morning. Hopefully, it would reach him by Monday, perhaps even as early as Saturday, depending on how the mail was running. As anxious as she was to see him again, she knew she’d have to be patient. She had the sinking feeling that it could be weeks before he returned home, depending on how things went with his uncle.
“So it will have to be a good letter. And hopefully, he’ll be able to write me back.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
OVER THE NEXT TWO WEEKS, Sarah wrote Owen nearly every day. She only received two letters in response, both much shorter than she would have liked, but she understood. Several times, she considered driving down there to be with him, but rejected the idea. The last thing she wanted was to show up, get in the way, and cause more trouble for him.
Jack and Gilly had returned from their honeymoon. Much to Sarah’s relief, living with them wasn’t a problem. They were much more circumspect than Randall and Kathy.
Owen’s absence didn’t go unnoticed at the library, with both Shirley and Callie remarking on it. Sarah explained the circumstances, but by the time Owen had been gone three weeks, Callie was starting to look at her with pity.
The attitude angered Sarah, and she decided to talk to Shirley one day when they took lunch together. “She acts like he’s deliberately staying down there to avoid me. I can’t say anything to her because that will make it worse, I expect.”
“I’d say you’re right. You have to ignore her. Do you think he’s avoiding you?”
Sarah dropped her gaze to the table. “I don’t want to think that, but the longer things go and I don’t hear from him, I’m starting to wonder a little.”
“Well, have you tried calling him?”
“Yes. The number he gave me just rings and rings. No answer. And I’ve tried calling at different times during the day, on the weekends, in the evenings. I don’t know what to think.”
When Shirley’s mouth tightened in to a grim line, Sarah realized Shirley was also having doubts about Owen’s reasons for not being in closer communication.
“What should I do?” Since Eliza had left, Sarah had grown closer to Shirley, and she valued her opinions.
“Honey, I don’t know what to tell you. Have you written him and flat-out asked him what’s going on?”
“No. I’ve been waiting to see if I hear from him. I thought about driving down there, but I don’t want to appear forward. Besides, if he is… done with me, I guess, I don’t want to find out in front of his whole family.”
Shirley patted Sarah’s hand. “I think you need to write and ask him what’s about it. I understand he’s under a lot of pressure right now and you don’t want to add to that, but you deserve to know. And as much as I hate to admit it, I have to think something else is causing him to not write or call. You need to find out what.”
So that evening, after she’d finished the garden chores and helped with supper, Sarah went to her room and started writing. Like the first letter she’d ever written Owen, it took her several tries to get right, but when she finished, she was satisfied. She hoped she was wrong, that her suspicions were just her own insecurities rising to torment her.
Chapter Thirty-Six
OWEN WAS IN A FOUL mood from the time he woke up on Wednesday morning. Though his uncle was doing better and was expected to be released from the hospital later that week, not much else had gone right in several days. They’d started clearing the ruins of Eli and Amy’s farmhouse over the previous weekend, and it rained the entire time, making the stinking heap of burned wood a dangerous, soggy mess. Owen was finally able to coordinate with a local contractor to bring in a bulldozer, and on Tuesday, they made decent headway. Work had ground to a halt, though, when Eli’s fifteen-year-old son, Tad, fell and broke his arm.
Leaving Trent in charge, Owen had rushed Tad to the hospital to get the arm set. That took several hours, and by the time they made it back to the neighbor’s farm where everyone was staying, it was dark. The rest of the children were in an uproar, stress and the disruption of their lives starting to wear on them, and it took everything in Owen’s power to settle them down that evening. Five of them were still teenagers, and three of the four were shifters, which added another level of stress to the situation.
Once he had gotten them quiet, Owen walked outside to see Trent off. “It’s a good thing the Hayses went on vacation last week. Otherwise, we’d all be sleeping in the barn until we get the new house built.”
Trent, who had to be as tired as Owen was, nodded. “I’m glad you’re here to help. I don’t know how we’d handle this without you. And I know you’re making a sacrifice by being here.”
Owen clapped a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “You would all do the same for me. That’s what family’s for. Get yourself home and get some rest. I’m hoping to get a little bit of sleep tonight, myself.”
“Will do. Cora should be here in the morning by eight or so to look after Tad. At least you won’t have to worry about having him underfoot tomorrow.”
They said goodnight, and Owen went inside the farmhouse. As he passed the table in the hall where the phone sat, he paused. He missed Sarah with a longing that was nearly a physical pain, and the desire to ca
ll her was strong. He knew he had should have called sooner, but every time he’d started to, something happened. Just as he moved to pick up the receiver, he heard soft footsteps.
“Owen? My arm hurts,” Tad said from the foot of the stairs.
After glancing at the phone with regret, Owen went to Tad. “Come on. I’ll get you something for it.” Maybe if he got up early enough the next morning, he could call Sarah for a few minutes. If he went much longer without hearing her voice, he’d end up going crazy.
Tad was up and down the rest of the night, and Owen with him. He was finally able to get to sleep after four, but was up again by six. There had been too many nights like that in the past few weeks, and Owen was starting to feel the effects.
So when, on Wednesday morning, Tad’s sister Julie casually mentioned that Owen had received a letter from Sarah the previous day, Owen only felt a little bit guilty for losing his temper.
Luckily, Trent’s wife, Cora, showed up before he could fly completely off the handle. Taking in the situation with one glance, she herded the children out the door. “Go take a few minutes for yourself, Owen. Lord knows, you deserve it.”
Thanking her, he hurried up to his bedroom and sat on the bed. As he opened the envelope, he held it to his nose, hoping for a whiff of Sarah’s perfume. Her letters had been his salvation through the past few weeks.
Dear Owen,
I hope this letter finds you well, and your family. Hopefully, your uncle is recovering quickly.
I debated long and hard as to whether I should write this letter or not. I don’t want to add to your burden. But I’ve not heard from you in a while now, and I’m concerned. I’ve tried calling, but I can’t get through. The phone just rings.
Please tell me that you’re okay.
Owen, I don’t want to think you’re avoiding me. I certainly don’t want to think that you’re trying to tell me you don’t want to be with me anymore. But I am starting to have concerns. Your last letter came over two weeks ago. Knowing how fond you are of writing letters, I’m worried.
I won’t write you a lengthy diatribe. I’m not blaming you for not writing or calling me. But I would ask that you please let me know if you’re okay, and if you do want to hear from me again. I’ll honor your wishes, but I need to know one way or another.
Regardless of your response, I want only the best for you. I only want you to be happy, whether that is with me or not.
I hope to hear from you soon.
Love,
Sarah
Owen read the letter three times before the words made sense. Once they did, he stared at the paper in disbelief.
“Where the hell did this come from?” he muttered. His not writing Sarah had nothing to do with diminished feelings; he simply hadn’t had time. He figured that would have been obvious, given what he was going through, but apparently not. He felt a burst of anger, and picked up a pen and a piece of paper. He knew the message back to Sarah was terse, but he hoped it would be enough to reassure her.
A loud thump sounded from outside, and Julie screeched with outrage or pain, he wasn’t sure which. Hurrying to the window, he saw that she and Tad were arguing.
“Shit! What now?” He quickly signed the letter and addressed the envelope. Sealing it as he hurried downstairs, he prayed to God for patience. He needed as much help as he could get.
Sarah came in from work Saturday afternoon feeling tired and out of sorts. Summer had arrived with a vengeance, and the humidity had ratcheted up into nearly unbearable levels.
“Hey, girl. You look like a wrung-out dishrag,” Gilly said from the front porch.
Despite her fatigue, Sarah laughed. “Gee, thanks. I appreciate the comparison.”
“That’s what I’m here for. A letter came today. That might perk you up a bit. It’s on the table in the kitchen.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” Tiredness forgotten, Sarah rushed into the house. When she saw the envelope addressed to her in Owen’s familiar handwriting, she almost wept.
“I guess you’ll be going upstairs to read it?” Gilly asked, having followed Sarah inside.
Sarah didn’t answer, but grabbed a knife from a drawer and slit the envelope. She drew out the letter, and when she saw that it was only one page, her heart climbed into her throat. One page couldn’t be good news. Tossing down the knife, she unfolded the paper.
Sarah,
I’m sorry I’ve not written sooner. I have a thousand and one things to do here, and all of them are urgent. That doesn’t leave much leisure time.
Eli should be home this weekend. It was close, but the doctors think he’ll make a full recovery.
I’ll call you as soon as I can, but I don’t know when that will be.
O.
For long minutes, she just read and re-read the words. Without speaking, she handed it to Gilly, then turned to get a glass for some water. Hands trembling, she filled it as Gilly read.
“Leisure time? What does he mean by that? Writing to let you know he’s still alive shouldn’t be leisure time.”
“I don’t know what he means. And he didn’t answer any of my questions, except about his uncle. How would you interpret that?” Her hands clenched on the edge of the sink.
“I don’t know what to think.” Gilly folded the page and put it back in the envelope. She laid the letter on the counter and tapped it with her fingers. “Maybe we need to take a trip.”
“No.” Of that, Sarah was certain. “Like I told you, I don’t want to just show up. I don’t want him to be forced into a confrontation in front of his family. And if he really is that busy, he doesn’t need my interference.”
“You have doubts, don’t you?”
Sarah hesitated. “I don’t want to.”
“But you do.”
She nodded. “I do. If he weren’t such a prolific letter writer, Gilly, I wouldn’t think so much of it. But that’s what Owen does; he corresponds. His lack of correspondence is speaking to me louder than any words.”
Gilly moved to stand beside her at the sink. “Sarah, that week Jack and I were on our honeymoon. Did something happen between the two of you?”
“What do you mean? We didn’t argue.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Were you intimate?”
Sarah crossed her arms. “We, um, sort of?”
Gilly looked at her, eyes wide.
“I’m still a virgin. But we… I guess I’m not as innocent as I was.”
“Well. I see.”
Sarah turned anguished eyes to Gilly. “What are you thinking? That he got what he wanted and decided it wasn’t worth buying the cow?”
“Sarah! That’s not quite how I would have put it, no.”
“But that’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? It’s what I’m starting to think. Gilly, he wasn’t a virgin,” she confessed in a near-whisper. “There was someone else, a widow who was his uncle’s neighbor. And he’s down there, and I haven’t heard from him, except for that.” She gestured to the letter. “He didn’t even sign it with love, just ‘O.’ What else can I think?”
Gilly put her arm around Sarah’s shoulders and squeezed. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
SATURDAY MORNING, OWEN WENT TO London to pick up supplies for Eli and Amy. Eli had come home the day before, and the Hayses had installed his uncle and Amy in their downstairs parlor. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but Owen was hopeful that, in a couple of weeks, they’d be able to have Eli’s new house finished enough that the family could move in. Several men from the community had come by the day before, and an old-fashioned house raising was planned for Tuesday.
He stopped in the pharmacy to pick up some things Amy needed. As he waited for the prescription to be filled, he perused the aisles o
f goods. When he came to the card section, he stopped. He still hadn’t had a chance to call or write to Sarah. His conscience was giving him a good pounding over that, but he was so tired, he knew if he talked to her, he might say something he shouldn’t. Oh, he didn’t think he’d say anything that would hurt her feelings, but he might let more slip about his family and the shifter thing. Until he could sit down with her face to face, he was better off remaining silent.
The pharmacist called his uncle’s name, and Owen made his way back toward the counter. At the end of the aisle, he bumped into a woman carrying a baby. Reaching to steady her, he apologized. “I didn’t see you come around the corner. I—” Owen broke off as he recognized her.
The woman’s eyes widened. “Well, I’ll be damned. Fancy meeting you here.” Kathy looked him over with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve gone all country on us.”
Owen looked down at himself. Clad in jeans and a checked shirt open over his T-shirt, with a full beard covering his jaw, he knew he looked different. “I’ve been a little busy lately. How’s Sarah?”
“Fine, as far as I know. I haven’t seen her in a few days. She said something about your family having a house fire?”
“Yes. My uncle’s house. I’m helping rebuild it. What brings you down this way?”
She shifted the baby to a more comfortable position. “Randall had something he needed to do for the county, so I came along.”
“There you are,” a woman said from behind Owen, and he felt a soft hand touch his elbow. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Are you ready to head back?”
When Kathy’s eyes widened, Owen frowned. Looking down at the petite blonde, he softened his expression. “Sure. I just need to get Eli’s medicine first.”
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