“Is this your cousin?” Kathy asked, drawing his attention back to her.
“No. This is Nora Caudill. She’s a neighbor. Nora, this is Kathy Begley. I know her from back home.”
The two women nodded at each other politely, but Kathy’s expression turned to stone.
Nora touched Owen’s arm again. “I’ll be out front in the truck when you’re ready to go. It was nice meeting you.” With a smile for Kathy, she excused herself. They both watched her go, and when Owen turned back to Kathy, he was surprised by the loathing he saw on her face.
“You know, I really thought you were different. I’ll be sure to give Sarah your regards, shall I?” Lifting her chin, she stalked away, leaving Owen staring after her, trying to figure out what he’d said.
Surely, Kathy hadn’t thought he and Nora… Dismissing the thought as absurd, Owen got in line to pick up his uncle’s medicine, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something important. He paid for the prescription, then hurried out to the truck where Nora was waiting.
“Sorry it took so long,” Owen said. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”
“Not at all,” Nora assured him as he climbed inside. “Who was your friend?”
“Kathy? She’s Sarah’s sister. The girl I’m dating,” he explained as they headed back to the farm. “I really appreciate you giving me a lift into town. Hopefully, those new spark plugs will fix Eli’s truck, and I won’t have to bother you again.”
“It wasn’t any bother. I was coming in anyhow. Call me anytime you need to.” The smile she sent him was friendly. Perhaps, Owen thought, a little too friendly. He thought about the ring he’d picked up at the jeweler’s a short time earlier and grimaced. Resolving to call Sarah that evening, he didn’t say much the rest of the trip back to Eli’s.
As many of Owen’s intended plans had gone lately, the phone call never happened. When Nora pulled into the driveway to drop him off, Julie came running out to meet them.
“Daddy fell! He says he’s okay, but Mama wants to take him to the hospital. They’re arguing, Owen.”
Owen hurried inside and, much to Eli’s chagrin, agreed with Amy’s assessment. Though Eli wasn’t hurt too badly, he’d torn several stitches. Amy, exhausted from keeping her bedside vigil in Lexington, stayed at the farm with the children while Owen drove Eli.
Because of the seriousness of the injuries his uncle had sustained in the fire, he was checked into the local hospital overnight as a precaution. Owen stayed with him, sleeping in fits and starts. By the time they were back at the Hayses, half a dozen other crises had developed, which needed to be dealt with. Vowing that he’d call Sarah before the weekend was over, Owen’s encounter with Kathy had completely slipped his mind.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
LATE MONDAY MORNING, SARAH WAS up to her elbows in strawberries, prepping them to make jam, when she heard a vehicle in the driveway. Glancing out the window, she was shocked to see Kathy. She wiped her hands on a towel and opened the door for her sister.
“Thanks,” Kathy said, setting the baby’s bag down in one of the kitchen chairs. She looked around and raised her eyebrows. “You’re busy today.”
“Yes. Mr. Combs’s strawberries came in this weekend. Ours didn’t do anything, so I got six flats from him to make jam since the library was closed today. If you want to take some home with you, feel free. Where’s Moira?”
“She’s with Randall’s mother. Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.”
Not sure what to say, Sarah pushed her hair back off her face. Feeling how loose her ponytail had gotten, she reached up and redid it. “So what brings you out here today?”
To her surprise, Kathy’s cheeks flushed. “We need to talk.”
Sarah studied her sister. For once, the derision and smugness was gone, and Sarah was hard-pressed to name what had taken its place.
“Think we could go on the porch and sit? I can lay a blanket out for the baby. He could use some sun,” Kathy said.
“Sure. I’ll get a quilt from the couch. Go on out, and I’ll be right there. Do you want something to drink?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Starting to worry, Sarah got the blanket and went out to the front porch. She made a soft nest partially shaded from the sun and took little Randall from Kathy. After pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, she laid him down, then joined Kathy on the swing.
“First, I’m sorry,” Kathy said. “I know we haven’t gotten along the last few years, and I know I’m to blame for a lot of that. But I am sorry, for whatever it matters.”
“Sorry for what?” Sarah asked, frowning. “What’s going on, Kathy?”
“Randall and I went to London Saturday. I ran into Owen.”
Sarah’s heart started pounding, and she knew instinctively that she wouldn’t like what came next.
“He wasn’t alone. He was with a woman.”
“His aunt or a cousin?” Sarah asked.
“No. He said she was a neighbor. And when he introduced us, he didn’t say I was your sister, only that he knew me from back home.” Kathy didn’t look at Sarah.
Her throat as dry as parchment, Sarah had to try three times before the words would come. “What did she look like?”
“Short little thing, blonde. Maybe ten, fifteen years older than us.” She must have seen something in Sarah’s expression, because she stilled. “That mean something to you?”
Sarah gave a faint laugh, looking out over the front yard as her heart broke. “Oh, yes. That means a lot. It explains a lot.” Her hand came up to cover her mouth, and she laughed. The sound emerged with a harsh edge, nothing of humor in it. When Kathy’s arm came around her shoulders, Sarah stiffened.
“I’m so sorry, Sarah. So damned sorry.”
Giving in to the tears, Sarah let herself cry.
Some time later, all her tears spent, Sarah straightened from where she’d been leaning on Kathy. The initial shock still reverberated through her, but she was starting to think past it. “Do you think there’s any chance they weren’t together?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” Sarah could tell Kathy didn’t want to answer her, but she persisted. “Why not? I need to know, Kathy.”
Kathy looked down at her hands laced together in her lap. “When a man and a woman have been together, they look at each other a certain way. Touch each other a certain way. You just know, Sarah. Especially if you’ve been cheated on. Or if you’re the other woman.”
“He touched her?”
“No, she touched him. But it was there. And I told him what I thought of him, too. I expected better of him, and I’m sorry he wasn’t.”
The baby whimpered, and Kathy bent to pick him up. “I need to feed him. Will you be okay if I go in for a few minutes?”
Distracted, Sarah waved a hand toward the house. She searched her memory for what Owen had told her about the woman he’d been with, but he’d been vague. He hadn’t said the widow’s name or described her at all. As much as she wanted to believe that Kathy was mistaken, she very much doubted she was.
Sarah didn’t move off the swing for a while. Kathy came back out and sat beside her, the baby in her arms. Sarah held out her hands, and Kathy passed little Randall to her.
“Maybe I heard you wrong earlier,” Sarah said, keeping her tone deliberately light, “but I could have sworn you implied you knew what it was like to be the other woman.”
When Kathy smiled sadly, Sarah’s heart sank further. That was something she hadn’t believed was possible, but there it was.
“The baby isn’t Randall’s.”
Her words were another shock and a blow, even though Sarah didn’t like Randall. “Oh, Kathy.”
“I’m leaving him, Sarah. I’ve tried and tried, but I can�
�t stand living with him anymore. That’s the other thing I came out here to tell you.”
Sarah looked down at the baby, who was blissfully ignorant, and groaned. “Does Mama know?”
“No. You’re the only one I’ve told.”
“Who’s the father?”
Kathy reached over with a tissue and wiped drool off the baby’s chin. “Randall’s boss from the garage. Clay Morton.” Sarah was incredulous, and Kathy shrugged. “It just happened. And I’m glad it did. I’d never have found the courage to leave Randall if I hadn’t met Clay. We’re leaving together tomorrow.”
“What about Moira? Have you told Randall yet?”
“No. He’ll find out when he gets home from work tomorrow. I wanted to warn you, as he’ll probably show up here first, looking for us. And Moira’ll be with us.”
Sarah swallowed, finding everything hard to take in. “Where are you going?”
“It’s probably best that I don’t tell you. Clay’s arranged a good job for himself, and as soon as we get where we’re going, I’m filing for divorce. When that comes through, we’re getting married.”
“So you won’t be staying around here?”
“We figured it might be better to go someplace where we could get a fresh start.” Kathy stood with a groan and stretched. She picked up the quilt the baby had been using and shook it. “I want you to know something. I didn’t tell you what I did to hurt you. I hope you believe that.”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” Sarah admitted. “Why did you tell me? You didn’t have to.”
Kathy looked across the valley, the quilt draped over one arm. Sarah was surprised to see her struggling with tears.
“Randall has been cheating on me since we were in high school. Sometimes I knew about it; sometimes I didn’t. I don’t want that for you. You deserve better.”
“So your advice to find a man who doesn’t beat me and all that? Should I disregard it?”
Her sister laughed, and in that instant, she looked freer than Sarah could ever remember seeing her. “You find a man who treats you like a queen, who puts you above all others. You find him, and you hold on to him. And don’t you dare settle for anything less. Do you hear me?”
Standing, Sarah handed Kathy the baby and wrapped her arms around them both. “I hear you. Will you at least promise to write now and then?”
“Of course. You’ll do the same?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Long after Kathy had gone, Sarah stayed out on the porch. She stared at the landscape, not feeling comforted, but instead, feeling as though she were on an alien world. It was as if everything she’d held dear had been turned on its end. When the phone rang, she jumped, startled. Thinking it might be Owen, and that he might be calling with an explanation, an apology, something, she nearly killed herself getting inside. Ignoring the blood that ran down her shin from where she’d hit it when she tripped, she grabbed the phone with a breathless “Hello.”
“Yeah, is Rachel there?” a woman asked. “This is Maude. She’s ‘specting my call.”
“Oh. No. Sorry. Try again.” Sarah hung up and slumped down, landing on the floor with a thunk. Her back pressed against the wall, she looked down at her skinned leg. One spot in particular was bleeding more profusely than the others, and as the blood dripped off her calf and splattered on the linoleum, she started laughing.
“Sorry, try again,” she whispered. “I don’t think so.”
Sarah didn’t think things could possibly get any worse, but that evening after supper, someone knocked on the door. She and Gilly, who were finishing up the jam making in the kitchen, exchanged a look and went to answer the door together. When Sarah saw who was on the other side, a chill went down her spine.
The deputy sheriff’s face was solemn in the falling dusk. “Ladies, I’m looking for the family of Kathy Begley.”
“Kathy’s my sister,” Sarah managed to say. “What’s wrong?”
She never remembered falling, or that the deputy had had to help Gilly get her to the couch while Jack rushed in from where he’d been working outside. Instead, what stood out was the horrible knowledge, the tears, the pain, and the disbelief. Sarah remembered the sound of Jack’s voice trembling as he called their mother and the seemingly interminable drive to the hospital, to Kathy, after Eliza had been told the devastating news. She remembered the long, long wait in the hospital waiting room, and the kindly young doctor’s grim face as he came out to apprise them of Kathy’s condition. Most of all, she remembered the realization that none of their worlds were ever going to be the same again.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
FATE SEEMED TO BE CONSPIRING against Owen at every turn. He finally got the time to sit down late Sunday evening and call Sarah, but when he picked up the receiver, the line was dead. After a quick trip down to Nora’s, taking Tad and Julie along as chaperones, he discovered that a car wreck had taken down the line.
“It won’t be back up until midweek, at least. I’m sorry,” Nora said. “And it’s out all the way into London from what I hear.”
Ready to pull his hair out with frustration, Owen thanked her. “Not your fault.”
Returning to the Hays farm, he cloistered himself in a bedroom and wrote Sarah a long letter, pouring his heart and soul into it. He’d been away from her so long, he didn’t much care if he did give away his secret. He simply wanted to be with Sarah.
Monday morning, he gave the letter to Amy to mail for him. “Promise me you’ll send this? It’s important that it goes out today.”
She gave him an impatient look. “Owen Campbell, you know I will. Get on with you.”
He gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek and headed out for his meeting with the contractor who was organizing the rebuild. Until Eli could recover a little more, Owen was in charge of that task.
Things moved fast on the house. Tuesday, more than twenty men showed up to help, and they came back each day that week. By Thursday, Eli was well enough to sit in a chair under an oak tree and supervise, with Amy hovering to ensure he didn’t overdo.
Owen joined them at lunchtime, stripped down to his pants and a sleeveless T-shirt. “It’s coming along so quickly, you all might be able to move back in here this weekend. I can hardly believe it. If you ever wondered how your neighbors felt about you, now you know.”
“It’s overwhelming,” Amy said. “I don’t know how we’ll ever repay all these folks. They won’t take money. And you, Owen… Sweetie, I don’t have words enough to tell you how grateful we are that you’ve been here.” He clasped the hand she held out to him and squeezed.
“Well, I think we need to cut the boy loose,” Eli said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ve never seen anyone chomping at the bit so much to get home, but not say a word about it. We’ve held you up long enough.”
“I figured I’d head back Sunday or Monday, if you all are comfortable with that. I’ll stay longer if I’m needed, but I am anxious to get home.”
“You need to let me give you a haircut before you go home. Your Sarah won’t recognize you.” Amy touched his hair, which Owen had taken to tying a bandanna around to keep it out of his face. “Are you going to shave?”
He rubbed a hand over his beard, which was almost as unruly as his hair. “I don’t know. I’ve kinda gotten used to it. I might trim it up a little, though.”
“We’ll sit down tonight and take care of that. It’s the least I can do,” Amy said. “We don’t want to send you back to your girl looking like a wild man.”
“I’m hoping to get a letter from Sarah today or tomorrow. She should have received the one we sent out Monday by now. I’ve not been as diligent about writing her as I should have been,” Owen said.
“I’m a little surprised by that,” Eli replied. “We were starting to wonder if something
had happened between the two of you.”
Astonished, Owen looked from his uncle to Amy. “You know how busy I’ve been. I wasn’t avoiding her or anything like that. I love Sarah.”
“That’s what made your not writing that much more puzzling, son. I’m glad you sent that letter out to her this week. If we were wondering, she might also be.” Eli carefully got to his feet. “I see that Stidham fella over there. I’ve been wanting to talk to him.”
Owen and Amy watched him go. Owen was troubled by what Eli had said. He asked Amy if she felt the same way, that he’d been neglecting Sarah.
“Honey, that’s something you’ll have to ask her. Hopefully, you’ll get to do that soon.”
“Hopefully. That’s why I was so eager to get that letter out to her, so she’d understand.” Without that letter, he was afraid Sarah would write him off as a lost cause. The letter was a good start at an apology, but he’d feel better once he saw her in person.
He couldn’t get home soon enough.
When Owen came down to breakfast the next morning, he found Amy and Eli seated at the kitchen table with their daughter, Julie. The girl’s eyes and nose were red, and she wouldn’t look at Owen as he came to a halt at the end of the table.
“What’s wrong?”
Amy heaved out a rough sigh. She and Eli exchanged a look, and Eli gestured toward her with his uninjured arm. “You tell him.”
Amy pushed a familiar-looking envelope across the table to Owen, who stared at it in confusion.
He picked up the envelope, the skin all over his body prickling with warning. It was the letter he’d written to Sarah, explaining everything. “I thought this got mailed. Amy?”
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