Firefly Hollow

by Haddix, T. L.

  “Julie has a confession to make. I’m so sorry, Owen. I thought it went out.”

  Still not believing what he held in front of him, Owen looked at Julie. “Explain. Now.”

  Her face turned bright red, and she started crying. “I just wanted to read it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I’ve never read a love letter before, and I wanted to see what it said. I’m sorry.” The teenager buried her face in her arms and sobbed.

  Fear and anger raced through Owen. He wasn’t even aware that he’d stood up until Eli followed suit. He looked at his uncle, not seeing him. Instead, he imagined Sarah’s face growing colder and more hurt every day that went by that she didn’t hear from him. His heart sank, even as his temper increased, and he started cursing.

  “Henry Owen Campbell! Watch your mouth!” Amy scowled at him, clearly appalled, and Owen made an effort to calm himself down. Looking down at Julie, he shook the letter at her.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you? This was a private letter, Julie. The things I wrote in here were for one person’s eyes and her eyes only. I poured everything I felt into this letter so that Sarah wouldn’t worry, so she’d know I was coming home to her. And you took it and kept it? What’s she going to think now, huh? That I’ve abandoned her, that I’m done with her, that’s what. Damn it!”

  Owen stormed out of the house. His anger carried him across the driveway to the pasture fence, where he slammed his hand into one of the slats. Head bowed, he had to swallow against the sick fear that clawed his belly. He heard someone come up beside him and saw Eli’s boots stop next to his.

  “I’m sorry, son.”

  “Sorry’s not going to fix this. Do you know what Sarah’s probably thinking right now? And I can’t even call her.” The phone lines were still out, and Owen started thinking about where he could get access to a phone.

  “Look, I know you were going to leave in a few days, but I think you should go now. We’ve gotten enough done that Amy, Trent, and I should be able to handle it from here.”

  “I don’t want to walk out on you and leave you in the lurch,” Owen protested half-heartedly.

  Eli sighed. “In what possible universe could you possibly think you’d be doing that? I’ve made it forty-five years on this earth, the last twenty-five or so on my own. I think I can manage.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. Go get packed up. You can get on the road in fifteen minutes, if you hurry, and be in Hazard this afternoon. You can deliver that letter in person.”

  The idea was too appealing to resist. “Okay. But you call me if you need anything. I can be back down here tomorrow, if I need to be.”

  Eli wrapped his arm around Owen’s shoulders and started steering him back toward the farmhouse. “Son, I think it’s going to take more than a day to straighten this out. You don’t worry about us; worry about yourself for once. You need to make that commitment to Sarah. She needs to come first now. We’ll be fine.”

  When they went back inside, Owen saw that Julie was gone.

  Amy was washing the breakfast dishes, and she wiped her hands on her apron, turning to him with guilt written all over her face. “Sweetie, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I didn’t know she hadn’t mailed it until I saw it in her room this morning. Are you going home?”

  “Yes. Hopefully, I can straighten this mess out.” He wrapped Amy in a tight hug. “Don’t worry too much about it.”

  “Well, now, you know I will until we hear back from you. I’ll pack you some biscuits and sausage for the trip.”

  Owen dashed upstairs and gathered his things, throwing them haphazardly into his bags. In five minutes, he was packed. When he left the bedroom, a forlorn Julie was waiting for him in the hall.

  “Do you hate me?” Her voice trembled, and Owen felt a little of his anger melt.

  “I’m not very happy with you right now. But no, I don’t hate you.” He tipped her chin up with one finger. “You’ve hurt me with what you did, Julie, and you’ve hurt the woman I intend to marry. I’m not quite ready to forgive you yet.”

  Though she sniffled loudly and Owen could see that she wanted to cry, she held back the tears and gave him a stiff nod. “I understand.”

  He ruffled her hair. “Try to stay out of trouble?”

  “I will.”

  Amy and Eli saw him off with hugs and kisses. Just as Eli had said, Owen was on the road in fifteen minutes. He checked his watch and the truck’s gas gauge. He’d stop to fill up before he left London, and hopefully, he’d be in Hazard by lunchtime. He’d go straight to the library, and if necessary, he’d get down on his knees in front of God and everyone else and beg Sarah’s forgiveness.

  As he drove, he realized how stupid he’d been for not making more of an effort to contact her. If he had, then Julie’s stealing the letter wouldn’t have been as grievous an offense. So as much as he wanted to blame his young cousin, Owen knew that if Sarah told him to go jump in a lake, it was more his fault than anyone else’s.

  Owen made good time on the road, arriving around the time when he’d thought he would. After he parked the truck in the pay lot down the street from the library, he sat there for several minutes collecting his thoughts. He didn’t want to rush inside willy-nilly and fumble his way through the explanation.

  He didn’t see Sarah’s car, which gave him a moment of concern, but then he remembered that she was sharing it with Jack and Gilly. “Well, no time like the present. Suck it up, Owen.” He made sure he had the letter tucked inside his shirt pocket and, with a fervent prayer that he’d find the right words, headed into the library.

  Callie was manning the front desk. Instead of the friendly smile she typically greeted him with, her eyes widened with alarmed surprise.

  A frisson of warning raced across Owen’s back. “Hey, Callie. Is Sarah handy?”

  “She’s not here. You need to talk to Shirley.” Callie dropped her gaze to the desk, her posture stiff.

  Owen scowled. “What do you mean, she isn’t here? Where is she?” Callie didn’t answer, and Owen reached out to touch her shoulder. “Callie, where’s Sarah? What’s going on?”

  Callie picked up the phone and dialed. “Owen Campbell’s down here. He’s asking about Sarah.” She hung up and stood. “Shirley will be right down. I need to shelve these books. Excuse me.” Before he could stop her, she hurried away.

  His heart racing, Owen paced in front of the desk. Shirley finally appeared with a grim look on her face, and Owen knew then that something was very, very wrong.

  “Where is she? Is she okay?”

  “Come with me.” She started toward the back of the building, but Owen didn’t budge.

  “Not until you tell me where Sarah is. What’s going on?”

  Shirley grasped his arm and tugged. “Come on. We have to discuss this in private.”

  Scared half to death, Owen followed her.

  She led him into the employee break room and shut the door. “Sit down, Owen. Did you just get back in town?”

  He sent her a frustrated look, but sat. “Yes. Now please, tell me what’s going on. Is Sarah okay?”

  Shirley clasped her hands on the table in front of her. “In a manner of speaking, she is. But her sister isn’t. Sarah’s probably at the hospital with her right now, if I had to guess. They’ve all been taking shifts.”

  “Kathy? What happened? Did she have an accident?”

  To his surprise, Shirley pressed her lips together and looked away. She picked up a napkin and blotted her eyes. “No. It’s awful, Owen. I’m surprised you haven’t heard the news, even down in London.”

  “Our phone’s been out for over a week. Shirley, you’re worrying me. What happened to Kathy?” He started to stand, but Shirley stopped him.

  “You need to know be
fore you go over there. From what Sarah has told me, and from what people are saying, Kathy was planning on leaving her husband for another man. He found out, and he… he didn’t take it very well.”

  “Oh, dear God. Did Randall go after her?”

  Shirley’s lips trembled. “It’s so much worse than that. Owen, he called the other man to their house. He attacked Kathy, and then killed her lover. Then he killed their children, and then he killed himself. All of it in front of Kathy.”

  Owen’s vision narrowed to Shirley’s white face and her trembling hands. The room faded around them. He thought about the baby Kathy’d been holding just a week ago, about little Moira, and nausea roiled in his stomach. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “Why? Why would he do that?”

  “From what Sarah said, he did it all to punish Kathy. That’s why he didn’t kill her, so she’d have to live with what he did.”

  He didn’t realize he was crying until Shirley handed him a napkin. Unashamed, he wiped his face. “When did this happen?”

  “Monday evening. I know they tried to call you, but they couldn’t get through.”

  Owen felt her words like a stab to the heart, and in that moment, he hated himself. “How’s Sarah? You’ve seen her, I take it?”

  “She’s holding up for now. Her mother’s on her way from Georgia, should be here today sometime. Sarah and Gilly have been taking turns sitting with Kathy, and Jack has, too. They’ve all been staying here in town with Gilly’s parents.” Shirley went to the refrigerator and got out a pitcher of cold water. She offered Owen a glass, and he accepted it.

  Shirley poured herself one and sat down again. “I want to ask you something. This is coming from Sarah’s friend, not from your librarian. Understand me?”

  “Of course. Ask away.”

  “Where the hell have you been, and why haven’t you contacted Sarah? Do you know what she’s thought? What we’ve all thought? She’s called you, and you don’t answer. She’s written, and you don’t answer. I’m ashamed of you, Owen Campbell.”

  Owen flinched. “I don’t have any excuses. None. I didn’t consider how my not writing or calling looked until this week, and by then, it was too late.” He looked at where his hands wrapped around the glass. “Do you think Sarah would see me if I went to her?”

  “You know, I’m not sure. If this hadn’t happened with Kathy? I think you would have walked in the door today and gotten knocked flat on your behind, and you would have deserved it. But now? The girl has had about as much tragedy as she can cope with. She can’t take much more. So I don’t know if she’d see you or not, but I think you’d better try. If you care about Sarah at all, you’d better try.”

  Chapter Forty

  SARAH WAS STANDING AT THE window, staring out across the hospital parking lot when Kathy stirred on the bed behind her.

  Turning, she moved to her sister’s side. “You’re awake.” Sarah thought her bruises looked a little better, and her eyes didn’t seem to be as swollen. If there was an inch of skin on her sister that hadn’t been cut, bruised, or battered, Sarah would be surprised.

  Kathy grimaced as she tried to sit up, and Sarah helped her get into a more comfortable position. She poured her sister a fresh cup of water.

  Kathy managed to drink about a third of it before she handed it back. “Thanks.”

  “The doctor was in a little while ago. He thinks you might get to come home tomorrow,” Sarah said. She sat down in the chair beside the bed.

  “I won’t go back to that house.”

  “No. You won’t have to. The rest of us can go get your belongings, and you can stay with us at the farm.”

  Kathy plucked at the blanket. “Heard from Mama yet?”

  “She called early this morning. She and Nancy are in Tennessee and should be here later today.”

  Kathy slumped against her pillows with a tired-sounding sigh. “Did you bring anything to read today?”

  Sarah smiled. “Of course.” She pulled two books out of her bag and held them up so Kathy could see them. “Which would you like me to read?”

  “The McLemore, please.”

  The first day after the shootings, Sarah had been sitting at Kathy’s bedside, keeping vigil. The silence in the hospital room was deafening, and out of self-defense, she pulled out a book and started reading aloud. By sheer accident, the book was one of Owen’s that Sarah hadn’t yet returned to the library.

  When she stopped reading, Kathy, who had been silent ever since she’d been brought in, had spoken, her voice a bare whisper. “Don’t stop. I like that.”

  So Sarah had continued reading to her sister. The action soothed them both, even though Kathy’s choices so far had been mostly Owen’s books. Calling herself ten kinds of fool, Sarah felt closer to him by reading the words he’d written. She thought maybe the reading helped her pretend he hadn’t left her and helped Kathy pretend everything she loved hadn’t been destroyed.

  “This is a new one,” Sarah said as she put the other book aside for later. “Well, new to me. It’s been checked out ever since I started reading the series. It finally came in to the library last night, and Shirley grabbed it for me. This one’s called The Summer Folly of Tobias Hedge.”

  Kathy’s battered mouth moved in what Sarah thought was a smile. “I like Toby. He’s funny.”

  “He is, at that,” Sarah said as she opened the book. “But I like Hootie Grey Feather, too.”

  Toby and Hootie were a deer and an owl, respectively. Toby was a young teenager who could shapeshift, and Hootie was an old man whose spirit roamed the land when he slept. Together with Minerva, a shapeshifter who turned into a surly bobcat, they had adventures. The stories were always centered around traditional Appalachian myths and folklore. Hootie and Minerva usually ended up getting Toby out of trouble, as they were older and wiser. Owen had done an excellent job of blending fiction with folklore.

  “So what’s Toby into this time?”

  “Let’s find out.” Slipping off her shoes, Sarah curled her legs up under her and started reading.

  “The morning was cool as Toby gamboled through the woods, fog nipping at his heels. It was late spring, and the young buck was in a playful mood. He hadn’t been able to change into his deer form in recent days, and the energy soared through him as he ran. He stopped here and there, nibbling on soft green leaves and tender shoots, but he didn’t linger anyplace very long. He wanted to get to the pond, where he was meeting his friends.

  Toby’s excitement turned to uncertainty when he reached the cool, calm pond, for there, sitting on a rock in the bright sun, sat a girl.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Toby thought. ‘What do I do?’ His parents had warned him against interacting with humans while in animal form, but they’d always been more worried about hunters with guns. They’d never said anything about what to do if he encountered someone close to his own age.

  Moving slowly, Toby approached the girl. She didn’t see him at first, as she was enraptured by the book she held. Feeling bold, he edged closer, stepping on a small twig as he did. The sound startled the girl, and she looked up, straight into his eyes.

  Toby’s heart sighed and fluttered. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Her eyes sparkled a deep blue that fairly shone with intelligence. Creamy white skin and dark, shining hair completed the picture. He’d never seen her before, and wondered where she’d come from, who her people were.

  She smiled. ‘Are you really standing here?’ she asked. ‘I’ve never seen a deer before, except in pictures.’

  Toby thought that was strange indeed, but he couldn’t ask her about it while he was in deer form. A sweet, tart scent reached his nostrils, teasing them. Looking around, he realized the smell was coming from a sliced apple in the girl’s lap. Apples were one of his favorite foods, in deer or human form, and his mouth watered. E
ven though he knew he shouldn’t, he moved closer and cast a longing glance at the fruit.

  The girl took the hint and offered him a slice. He moved carefully so he didn’t scare her and took the apple from her fingers. It was so good and crisp, he huffed out a sound of deep satisfaction as he ate. He’d never had an apple so sweet, and he figured the girl must have worked some sort of magic over the apple to make it taste so good. He went back for more, and she freely gave him the rest of it.”

  Sarah stopped reading, as memory tugged at her. The encounter Toby was having with the girl was exactly like the encounter she’d had with the deer at the pool the summer she graduated high school. The description of the girl in the book fit Sarah herself.

  “No,” she marveled, “I’m losing my mind.”

  Kathy glanced at her, but didn’t speak. Shaking herself, Sarah continued reading.

  “Intrigued by his new friend, Toby decided to linger at the pond for a while. He eyed the girl’s brown bag with curiosity, hoping there might be more apples.

  ‘Oh, you probably won’t like what’s in there,’ she told him. ‘My granny packed my lunch for me this morning. It’s probably egg salad or tuna. I doubt that’d be to your taste.’

  Toby agreed. He wasn’t much of a fan of egg salad.”

  “Sarah, are you okay?”

  Sarah wasn’t aware that she had stopped reading until Kathy spoke. Feeling as though she were in a fog, she looked at Kathy, then down at the book in her hands. There was no way Owen could know what she’d said to the deer that day at the pool. None. Unless he’d been eavesdropping, and since the deer hadn’t sensed him nearby, Sarah didn’t think that was how he’d known.

  “It’s not possible…” she whispered. “I mean, I know the book’s about a boy who can… but it isn’t possible.”