He realized that once he told Sarah the truth about his being a shifter, and revealed to her that he was the young deer, she might not take his presence on the rock with her today well. But it was a chance he had to take.
He stripped and folded his clothes into a neat bundle, then hunkered down. Centering himself mentally, he envisioned his inner deer. His scalp started tingling, then the nerves all along his spine, and finally, his entire body. The tingle became painful, almost unbearably so. Owen’s muscles stretched, his bones reshaped themselves, and that simply, he was changed.
The shock of it all left him panting. He hadn’t been able to shift recently, having been too tied up with the rebuild. Feeling elation at being in animal form again, he shook himself all over. Once he’d recovered from the transformation, he stretched his neck and haunches. Needing calories, he trotted back down to the rock and munched on some grass that had sprung up around the boulder’s perimeter. He’d seeded the grass the previous fall just for that purpose. As he ate, he kept a close eye on Sarah.
Appetite satisfied, he got a drink of water from the branch, then carefully approached her. He could smell her shampoo and, giving in to temptation, he stretched his neck and sniffed her hair. She stirred, and before he could move back, she opened her eyes.
For a couple of seconds, she stared at him. Then, with a small shriek, which she quickly muffled with her hand, she sat up. Owen stepped back warily, waiting to see what she’d do.
“You,” she breathed, her eyes wide. After looking around as though trying to figure out if she were still asleep, her gaze came back to rest on him.
Owen couldn’t read her expression. He dipped his head, flicking away a curious fly with the twitch of one ear. When Sarah remained silent, he huffed questioningly.
“You know, you don’t age much,” she said. “It’s almost like you only exist some of the time.”
Owen froze. Something about her tone made him wonder if she knew… but no, she couldn’t. A twig snapped in the woods, and he turned toward the sound, but it was only a squirrel. When he looked back at Sarah, she had sat up and was watching him, her eyes still heavy from sleep. Her legs were bent, and the skirt of the sundress covered them, with only her toes showing. Feeling playful, he stepped closer and lowered his head to sniff at her toes.
Sarah jerked her feet back. “You stinker. Keep your nose to yourself.” Her tone was scolding, but a smile played around her lips.
Emboldened, Owen reached out again and gently clamped the edge of the quilt between his teeth. When he tugged, Sarah’s laughter echoed around the clearing.
“Stop that! You’re feeling your oats today, aren’t you?” She slowly raised her hand. Owen held still and let her touch him between his ears. “Wow. This is incredible,” she whispered.
He turned his head so that her hand moved along his fur, then repeated the movement in the other direction. Sarah picked up on the message. She ran her hand down his neck and across his shoulder. When she reached up and gently tugged on one of his ears, he pulled away with a shake of his head. His ears were very sensitive, and her light touch tickled. She did it again, and he snorted. He took a step back so that he could shake his head more fully.
Sarah laughed again. “Are you ticklish? I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
Owen didn’t believe that for an instant, but he eased back over and settled down beside her. They weren’t touching, but they were close enough that Sarah could easily pet him. After a while, the long, soothing strokes of her hand down his neck slowed, and she let her hand rest on his shoulder.
They sat like that for a long time, with Sarah not speaking at all. It was odd, Owen thought, being so near her and not being the least bit physically aroused. The connection between them went so much deeper than the physical, and he thought that if he only ever had moments like this with her, it might be enough to sustain him for the rest of his life.
One of the first questions he’d asked Eli once they’d started his training was whether Owen would be still be attracted to humans in his animal form or if the attraction would shift to his animal counterparts. Eli had assured him that cross-species physical attraction wasn’t possible. When he shifted into the deer or the wolf, his uncle had explained, he was still human in spirit, so the emotional connection could still be there with a woman. Regardless of Eli’s reassurances, Owen had always worried in the back of his mind. Sitting next to Sarah, he realized that if there was ever going to be a time he’d be aroused, it would be with her. He was immensely relieved to know that Eli had been correct.
“So I’ve not been very happy lately,” Sarah said softly. “There’s been a lot going on in my life, and it’s mostly been bad. I have some tough decisions to make, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”
Owen’s heart raced. He knew that his listening to her private thoughts was something he knew she wouldn’t forgive. Standing up with a clatter of his hooves, he moved away from her.
“Don’t you want to hear what I’m thinking?” she asked.
He snorted and went to the branch to get another drink, frantically trying to figure out what to do. As hard as he found the idea to swallow, he knew he had to walk away from her. When he heard someone coming up the path, he whirled around to see who it was. The wind was coming from that direction, and he easily scented Jack. Sure that Sarah would be safe, he took off up the hill.
When he got back to the rock where he’d hidden his clothes and changed back into human form, he remembered the basket Eliza had packed for him, the basket he’d left sitting on the rock beside Sarah, and he cursed.
Sarah had been working her way into addressing the deer as “Owen” when Jack came up the path, startling him away. She said a curse under her breath as she waited for her brother to join her on the rock.
“What are you doing up here?” she asked.
“Looking for you. Mama needs you back at the house. I wouldn’t normally come over here and bother you, but she said it was important.” He frowned. “Where’s Owen?”
Sarah scowled. “How should I know? I haven’t seen him.”
Jack pursed his lips. “You haven’t? Because I could swear that’s the basket of food Mama packed for him.” He pointed behind her.
Sarah turned. Sure enough, a basket sat there, a basket that hadn’t been there when she’d gone to sleep. She had been so distracted by the deer’s presence that she hadn’t even noticed.
The food being there was too much of a coincidence, and for a few seconds, Sarah thought she might faint.
“Sarah? You okay?”
She ran a hand over her face. “Yeah. Maybe he passed by here and left it for some reason. What does Mama need? Is anything wrong?”
“No, but I think Kathy’s asking for you.”
Sarah stood to shake out the quilt, then stuffed it in her bag. “Grab that basket, will you? We can’t leave it here. The animals might get it.” She said the last part with a strong sense of irony. She had an idea one animal in particular might get into the basket, and she snorted. Oh, yes, she and Owen were going to have to talk and soon. She could hardly wait to see how he explained that basket.
Chapter Forty-Five
THE DAY OF THE FUNERAL arrived, along with rain clouds and thunder. While Sarah got dressed, she tried to keep her mind as blank as possible. The task wasn’t easy. The reality of the loss of Moira and the baby was starting to hit home. It seemed like such a waste, a senseless waste. The children had been so innocent, so sweet, so undeserving of the fate they had been handed. Sarah was struggling to keep herself as calm as possible. She was torn between anger at Kathy for placing them in the situation, and grief for her sister for the living hell her life had apparently been. On top of that was her own guilt, for not having seen what Randall really was.
Kathy was down the hall, tucked away in the room she’d had as a g
irl. Jack and Gilly had offered her the use of their bedroom, but she’d declined.
Though she seemed to be recovering, albeit slowly, from the physical trauma, her mental recovery hadn’t even remotely begun yet. She couldn’t stand to be touched by anyone other than Eliza, and any loud noise startled her so badly she trembled for an hour afterward. When the day of the visitation came, Kathy had refused to come out of her room.
“I can’t. I can’t go. I can’t face them, what I did to them.”
Eliza had spent over an hour closeted away with Kathy. When their mother came out of the bedroom, the decision had been made. “She’s not going, and I don’t think she should. I don’t think she can handle it. Nancy, can you stay with her?”
Nancy had agreed, and the rest of the family had gone without Kathy.
On the day of the funeral, Kathy remained steadfast in her determination to avoid the services. Sarah finished dressing and went down the hall, where she knocked on the open bedroom door. Kathy was sitting in a chair, looking out the window. She had one of Moira’s dolls clasped in her hands and was absently playing with its hair.
She answered Sarah’s knock without turning. “Come in.”
Sarah moved to stand beside Kathy’s chair. She didn’t understand how Kathy could not need to go to the funeral, not need the closure the services would provide, but she had to respect her sister’s decision.
“I know you think poorly of me because I’m not going to the funeral. I can imagine what the townsfolk are going to think.” Kathy’s voice was rusty from disuse.
Sarah fetched the footstool and pulled it over so she could sit beside her sister. “I’m perplexed. I guess I don’t understand, but my understanding isn’t necessary. And I don’t think poorly of you. As to the rest of the town, hang them.”
Kathy snorted. “Well, then I guess I think poorly enough of me for both of us.” She shifted her gaze from the window to look down at the doll in her hands, seeming oblivious to the tears that tracked slowly down her cheeks. “Owen came back.”
Sarah cleared her throat. Her sister’s silent grief was almost more than she could bear. “Yes, he did.”
“You’ve not made up yet. How come?”
Shifting so that her back rested against the bed, Sarah clasped her hands around one knee. “Because I’m afraid he’ll hurt me again. And I feel incredibly vain and shallow saying that to you after what you’ve been through.”
Kathy sent her a sidelong look. “Hurt comes in all shapes and sizes. Just because he didn’t do to you what Randall did to me doesn’t mean your hurt isn’t as bad in its own way as mine.”
Sarah tilted her head. “How can you compare the two?”
“I can’t. I don’t. I hope to God you never know what I’ve been through. But don’t diminish your own feelings because of this.” She waved a hand. “Are you going to forgive him?”
“I don’t know. I think I am. Does that make me gullible?”
“Not necessarily. I’ve been watching him these last few days. I don’t like the way he did you, but he doesn’t act like… well, he doesn’t act like Randall. And he doesn’t act like Randall’s friends, either. Did you talk to him about the other woman?”
Sarah found it a little odd that Kathy was so eager to discuss her love life, but considering what the rest of the day held, maybe it made sense. Her sister was probably desperate for a distraction.
“I did, briefly. You were right; she is someone he’s been with. But he only accepted a ride from her that day. They were together years ago, and only for a few months.” Seeing Kathy’s skeptical look, she held up her hand. “I know, I know. But it would be very easy for me to verify whether he’s lying or not. Besides, he wrote me a letter, and he said the exact same things in the letter as he told me in person. I finally worked up the courage to read it yesterday.”
“I hope you’re right. I need to be able to believe there’s still something good in this world.”
Eliza interrupted to let Sarah know it was time to go. As she stood, she held out her hand to Kathy, letting her sister make the decision whether to accept her touch or not. After a brief hesitation, Kathy clasped Sarah’s hand, squeezing tightly. It wasn’t the hug Sarah wanted to give her, but Sarah knew it was all Kathy could handle at the moment.
Four hours later, the funeral was over. The babies had been placed together in one casket and laid to rest next to Ira in the family cemetery. Sarah wondered how the family had gotten through it all. She’d never expected to be back in the cemetery again so soon, staring down into a dark hole in the ground. She’d certainly never imagined the next funeral would be for Moira and the baby. She hated thinking of him as little Randall. She didn’t even want the son of a bitch to have that much claim on the child.
Throughout the funeral and graveside service, she’d leaned heavily on Owen. He didn’t say much, but he was there from start to finish. He anticipated her needs almost before she knew she had them and was so quietly solicitous of her that Sarah felt like weeping all over again.
They went straight to Silas and Ethel Combs’s house after the burial. Sarah had always held the older couple in high esteem, but their generosity in opening their home for the wake left her speechless.
An hour into the gathering, Sarah stepped out onto the back porch for a brief respite.
Eliza, apparently having the same idea, came out a few minutes later. “You look like you’re considering making a run for it.”
“I am considering it,” Sarah said. “I know I shouldn’t do that, though.”
“Why not?”
Eyebrows raised, Sarah blinked at her mother. “What?”
“Sweetie, I think you’ve done enough. You deserve some time to yourself. And I’m fairly certain there’s a young man who’d like to spend some alone time with you, as well. Why don’t you find him and have him take you home? If you want to go somewhere after that, you should.”
Sarah let out a tired breath. “What about you?”
“I’m fine. After we’re done here, I’m probably going to go home and sleep for a while. But I know you, and I know that you’re chomping at the bit to get out of here. You still don’t like crowds.”
“No, I don’t,” Sarah admitted. “Especially when it’s this kind of crowd, for this kind of purpose.”
“So go find Owen. Make him show you his house.” Sarah had confided Owen’s living arrangement to her mother during their discussion the other day.
“Maybe that’s not a bad idea.”
“It’s a good idea,” Eliza stated. “I’ll make your excuses to Ethel.” She turned to go back inside, then stopped and came back to Sarah. In a voice that was almost a whisper, she said, “Just make sure you take that box I gave you.”
“Mama!”
“Love you, baby girl.” With a quick hug, Eliza disappeared inside the house.
Sarah was left standing on the porch, her mouth open. As the wind started to pick up, Sarah studied the sky. The storm front that had been threatening all day was almost there. If she was going to get Owen and leave, she should probably do it before the rain started.
As she reached for the door, Owen opened it from the other side. “Hey. Your mom said you needed me?”
“She would, wouldn’t she? I was thinking about leaving. Do you want to go?”
“Sure. Do you want to go home or what?”
“Yes. I need to change clothes. But after that, could we go somewhere to talk?” She didn’t look at him as they walked around the house to the field where he’d parked his truck.
“Of course we can. You tell me where.” He looked up at the sky as he held the door open for her. “I don’t think our usual spot’s going to work, though.”
Sarah waited until he’d gone around the truck and slid in behind the wheel. “I was thinking we
could go to your house.”
Owen paused in the act of starting the truck. “M-my house?”
“Mmm. Yes, if that’s okay.”
She heard him swallow from across the cab. “We can do that.”
At her house, she hurried inside and greeted Nancy. “I’m going to Owen’s house with him. I don’t know when I’ll be back. How’s Kathy?”
“Sleeping. You take as long as you need, honey. We’ll be here.”
In her room, Sarah changed out of the funeral dress. Once she was dressed more casually, she grabbed her book bag and threw some things in it. Heart pounding, she slowly eased open the drawer to her nightstand. Sitting beside the letter Owen had written her was the birth control kit. Sarah put the letter in her bag, and without letting herself think about it too much, she grabbed the box and put it in, as well. After slipping on her tennis shoes, she went back downstairs and out to Owen’s truck.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I guess so. We’re driving around?”
“Unless you know a shortcut,” he told her with a smile.
Sarah shook her head. “I guess we’re driving, then.”
When they got to the top of the mountain, Owen parked the truck, got out, and walked around to open Sarah’s door. Thunder rumbled as they walked to the house.
Unlocking the door, Owen pushed it open and stood back for her to enter. “After you.”
Sarah’s initial look at the inside of Owen’s house was surprising. The first floor was open and airy, with high ceilings and comfortable-looking furniture. A small dining area was to the right, situated in front of the kitchen, with a bar separating them. To the left was the living space. A stone fireplace covered most of one wall, and a wide table sat before the tall windows that fronted the house. Bookcases flanked the fireplace, and the table was covered with stacks of papers and books.
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