Stardust Valley (Firefly Hollow Book 9)

by T. L. Haddix

  He shook himself out of the reverie he’d fallen into and moved to plug in the blanket. The two minutes he’d spent in Eli’s closet getting the blanket down had felt like an eternity as he’d debated whether or not the suggestion of them sharing could be construed as an amorous overture.

  He still didn’t know the answer, but he figured he was about to find out. “This is big enough for both of us. It’s a king.”

  “That’s fine,” she said softly. Her arms were crossed, and she was standing at the rail, looking at the sky. “I see what you mean now about the saddle. This is possibly even a better view than up at Owen and Sarah’s.”

  He stepped over to stand beside her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. “I saw it when I was up here one day, fixing a loose piece of metal on the roof. As soon as I was able to find the time, I put this observatory together. Grandpa has something similar at the studio, though he doesn’t use it much anymore.”

  “Owen mentioned that, but I’ve not seen it yet. We get busy with the genealogy and we both get lost in time, it feels.”

  Noah smiled. “You share his passion then.”

  She moved a shoulder. “It’s contagious. This is just stunning, Noah. It really is.”

  He gazed out over the tops of the bare trees, inhaling deeply. The air held a faint whiff of wood smoke, but it wasn’t overpowering. “It’s really neat to watch the fog roll in over the hills. It literally rolls, curling and seething… and when it settles down and there’s a full moon, it’s like being on top of the clouds. You can see the lights from below very faintly, almost like the fog itself is glowing. If it’s very heavy, it blocks out all the light pollution, and the stars… it’s like living in a valley sprinkled with stardust.” As his words trailed off, he grew aware of Sophie’s quiet stare. Embarrassed, he rubbed his cheek. “Anyhow. It’s nice to have this place.”

  “I can only imagine,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’d love to see that. It sounds enchanting.”

  That was better than cute or sweet, he guessed. “If it happens again and I catch it, I’ll let you know. But it usually doesn’t get like that until really late, two or three in the morning. The blanket’s probably warmed up.” He turned and went back to the seat where he’d spread it out.

  “Are you up that late very often?” she asked as she joined him.

  “I don’t need a lot of sleep.” A non-answer but the best he could give her.

  He waited until she was seated before he took his spot, trying not to get close enough to make her uncomfortable or sit too far away. He knew he was being stupid, but he couldn’t help it.

  “Are you warm enough?” he asked after a couple of minutes.

  She nodded and shifted, getting comfortable. “Toasty, actually. I like that the backs of the seats are inclined. This is really perfect for stargazing. So tell me about the house. How long have you lived here?”

  Deciding that it wouldn’t kill him to relax a little, he settled in. “I bought it from Rachel after I got back from Italy. For the first little bit, I stayed with Mom and Dad. I arrived the day before she had surgery, and they needed some help for a few weeks. After that, I whipped this place into shape. No one had lived here for a few years, not after Rachel got married the first time. It’s taken me a long time to get it close to where I want it with the garden, the shop. But I can finally start to slow down and enjoy it a bit, I think.”

  “And Campbell’s Customs? When did that start? Whoa! There’s one. Did you see it?” she asked, grabbing his arm with one hand and pointing with the other.

  “I did. That was a big one.”

  She laughed with delight. “Amazing. Wow. Oh, I’ve missed this.” She sat back with a sigh, taking her hand with her. “Sorry. I interrupted.”

  “You’re fine,” Noah murmured, feeling the loss of the contact keenly. “I puttered around for a year or two. Worked some construction. I helped Sawyer renovate his house. Did some work for Grandma and Grandpa, some other family members. And I made some contacts with local contractors. Saw a need I could fill. Mom and Dad staked me with the money they’d set aside for my post-high-school education, and that went a long way toward getting the shop off the ground. I was full-time and busy with it before I could blink.”

  “And just how hard did they have to twist your arm to get you to take that money?” she asked softly.

  “Pretty hard. I tried to get them to turn it into a loan, but they wouldn’t.” Noah didn’t know how he felt about the fact that she still knew him well enough to realize that accepting his parents’ money would have been hard for him.

  “Hmmm, no, I imagine not. They’re very generous people, your parents. You’re very lucky to have them.” She fell quiet as three small meteors streaked across the sky in quick succession.

  Noah didn’t mind the silence. He used the time to watch her. His eyes had adjusted well enough that he could see the awe on her face. Here was the Sophie he’d fallen in love with, the girl who saw wonder in the simplest things. After learning about what her life had been like after they’d parted, he’d wondered if any of her was left. He could have wept from the knowledge that at least part of her was still there.

  “So what happened to the idea of becoming an architect?” she asked after a few minutes.

  He looked at her, surprised she’d even venture near the topic of their past.

  Seeing—or perhaps feeling—his incredulity, she sighed. “We can’t tiptoe around like we don’t know each other. That’s a ridiculous premise to even attempt to stick to, don’t you think?”

  He let out a long breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding. “Probably. I just… I don’t want to hurt you anymore. And I don’t want to get hurt either.”

  She nodded, her eyes falling from the sky to the horizon. “It’s not going to be easy, I don’t think, to move past that history. But we’re adults, and we’re connected, and like I said, we’ve been ridiculous about things.”

  “Maybe a little,” he conceded quietly. “But we shouldn’t discount the pain we each caused the other. That’d be ridiculous too.”

  “Yes, it would.” When she sighed again, the sound was weary. “So what happened to that dream? The architecture, I mean. Was that part of the destruction?”

  “No. At first, maybe. Just a little. My grades took a bit of a hit after I switched schools but not enough to hurt my chances of being accepted at UK.” He’d thought he would attend the University of Kentucky as his uncle Ben had, though Ben had studied landscape architecture. “But once I was in Italy and apprenticing with Giacomo, I fell in love with the hands-on crafting aspect of woodworking. It just felt right. It helped quiet the voices when they got too loud, for the most part anyhow. I saw that I’d have enough of a hand in the creation of the rooms I put woodworking into to satisfy the architectural need, and I never really looked back.”

  “You really enjoy what you do, don’t you?”

  He nodded. “I’m very proud of what I’ve built. It hasn’t been easy, but it’s been a good journey to get here. Sure, I’d change some things, but for the most part, I’m happy.”

  She turned a bit in her seat to face him more fully. “What would you change?”

  Noah looked at her, very much aware that only a few inches separated them. “This and that.”

  As Sophie’s eyes dropped to his mouth, his scalp started tingling, then his entire right side beginning with his arm and shoulder and slowly all the way down to his toes. He gave an internal sigh of frustration and glanced to his right, expecting to see his cousin Moira or Molly Dean, his late maternal grandmother.

  Instead, a creature unlike anything he’d ever seen hovered just above the rail. Mesmerized, all he could do was stare at it.

  With a bright, nebulous spherical core, the creature had several delicate, iridescent
wings that glowed with soft blues, pinks, and greens. They sprouted around its “body” rather than being firmly attached. The wings themselves were nearly transparent, a wild cross between the wings of a dragonfly and a butterfly in design, and they slowly rippled in an undulating motion.

  “Wow,” Noah whispered. “Can you see that?”

  He felt Sophie lean forward. “See what?”

  Disappointed, he told her what he saw. “It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s… it’s beautiful.”

  As he watched, the colors of the wings pulsated, and it surged gently through the air, coming to rest on the rail on the opposite side of the deck.

  “I can almost hear it. God, Sophie, I wish you could see this.”

  “Is it a spirit?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No… I don’t know. I haven’t a clue what it is. It’s magical to look at. It’s not angry or threatening. It’s just watching us, I think.”

  As he spoke, the creature took off again, coming to hover just over Sophie’s head. Very cautiously, it settled in her lap, the pulsating colors slowing down and cooling a bit.

  “Where is it?” she asked, watching him closely.

  “Right here.” He reached out, careful not to move too fast, and touched the creature.

  In a split second, it turned bright white and shot straight up in the air, disappearing into the dark sky. Noah snatched his hand back, shaking the tingling appendage as he stared after the creature.

  “Noah?”

  He didn’t realize he’d come to his feet until the cold wind hit his body, a sharp contrast to the warm coziness under the blanket. Shaken, he sat back down.

  “It’s gone. It didn’t like me touching it, I guess.” He picked up the blanket from where it had fallen and resettled it around them. “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t apologize. It sounded incredible. Are you okay though?”

  “Yeah. I just wasn’t expecting that.” He looked back at the sky, but the creature was gone. “I could almost hear it. I swear I could. It almost made sense to me—what it was, I mean.”

  But as much as he tried, he couldn’t get his mind around what had just happened.

  They watched the meteor shower for a while longer, but when Sophie started yawning, he knew it was time to go in.

  “We’d better get you on the road. Unless you want to stay. There’s Eli’s room or the couch, or I could give you my bed. Without me, I mean. I could take his bed. Or the couch.” Shut up already, you moron. He knew his face had to be ten shades of red.

  Sophie shook her head as she scooted to the edge of the seat, then she stood with a quiet grunt. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll head home. Thanks for letting me stick around and watch this,” she said, glancing at the sky. “I enjoyed it.”

  “Anytime.”

  She helped him fold the blanket. “Have you talked to Summer? Since Thanksgiving, I mean.”

  He sighed. “Yeah. You were right about that. I never would have guessed… anyhow, she’s a good person. She really is. I hate that things changed.”

  Her hands brushed his as she handed him her corners, and Noah’s skin tingled as much from that contact as it had when he’d touched the creature earlier.

  “They don’t have to change, do they?” she asked.

  For a minute, he looked at the folded fleece in his hands. “Yeah. They do. I’m not… I don’t do… yeah. Anyhow.” He moved so that she could go past him to the steps, and he held on to the blanket tightly to keep from reaching out to her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  “It is what it is.”

  They didn’t say much else as they went inside. He placed the blanket on his bed beside a dozing Fig, then he followed Sophie down the stairs.

  “So… text me when you get home and let me know you made it?” he asked as he walked onto the porch with her.

  She turned to face him with an indulgent smile. “I’ll be fine.”

  Noah crossed his arms and scowled at her. “I’m sure you will be. But I worry.”

  “Fine. I’ll buzz you. Thanks again.”

  He nodded. “You’re welcome. It was fun.”

  Their eyes locked, and the moment dragged on and on.

  Sophie bit her lip. “I should go.”

  “Probably.”

  “Good night.” She started off the porch. “Pet Fig for me.”

  He smiled. “I will.”

  Watching her walk away was one of the hardest things he’d done in a while. If he’d had any real belief his overtures would be reciprocated, he’d have gone after her and kiss her senseless. But her words from a few weeks ago, when they’d kissed at the barn, still haunted him.

  Even though he was pretty sure she was starting to believe he’d not had anything to do with Erica, that didn’t mean she wanted anything to do with him. He wasn’t sure if that knowledge wasn’t just as difficult to stomach as the lies that had turned his life upside down when he was seventeen.

  Once she was gone and he was alone again, he wandered back inside to stand in the open living room, glancing around. He felt lost and empty and didn’t have a clue what to do with himself. The need to be with someone, to feel their presence even if it was just as companionship, was hitting him in waves so strong they nearly brought him to his knees.

  Out of desperation, he went to the piano. He ran scales for a few minutes to warm up his fingers, then he slowly played a Chopin piece. From there, he moved on to Gershwin, his go-to composer for pounding out emotions he didn’t know what else to do with.

  Twenty minutes in, his phone buzzed.

  I made it home. I’m all safe and sound.

  Since no one else was around, he ran his finger across the picture he’d taken of Sophie to use as her avatar.

  Okay, he texted back. Thanks for letting me know. See you Sunday?

  As he waited for her response, he wondered if she felt as awkward as he did.

  Probably. Good night.

  He told her good night and laid the phone on the piano with a sigh, then he resumed his playing. When his back tingled, he stopped, half-afraid to turn around.

  But his grandmother Molly Dean sat beside him on the bench. “You had a nice evening with your Sophie.”

  Noah shrugged and closed the lid on the keys. “She’s not my Sophie.”

  “No, not exactly. But she isn’t not yours either.”

  “Hating her all these years was so hard, Grandma. But this feels harder somehow. Seeing her, maybe building a friendship. How am I supposed to do that?”

  She laid a hand on his arm, increasing the tingling. It wasn’t unpleasant, just intense. “She needs you. She just doesn’t realize that yet. So what did you think about the little sprite you saw tonight?”

  He smiled. “Is that what it was, a sprite? It was awesome. Stunning. Will it come back?”

  Molly Dean’s eyes were sad. “Probably. It’s attached to Sophie.” She touched his cheek. “It will come to you, sweetheart. You just have to let it.”

  “What will? The sprite?”

  “All the answers you need. Love you, darling boy.” And she was gone.

  He yawned, feeling worn out. That happened sometimes after he’d had several visits in quick succession. Deciding to call it a night, he shut down the house, checked on the woodstove, and headed upstairs.

  Fig roused herself to curl up with him once he was tucked under the covers.

  “Sophie said to pet you, so here,” he said, stroking the sleek cat from the tips of her ears to the tip of her tail. “You like her, Fig? I think you do. You let her pet you like she’s family.”

  As friendly as Fig was, she was very picky about who she let touch her, much less cuddle her as Sophie had done. The cat l
et out a long rumbling purr and rolled onto her back, stretching.

  Noah turned out the light and settled in with a sigh. He was out almost as soon as he closed his eyes, drifting into a dreamless sleep.

  Two hours later, he was jolted awake, his heart pounding. The sprite was back, floating above his feet. Moira was lying on the foot of the bed, stretched out on her belly with her chin propped on her hands as she watched it. She glanced over her shoulder at Noah, who’d sat up.

  “You know what it is now, don’t you?” she asked.

  Fig was sitting on his feet, staring at the creature, but she didn’t try to touch it. He’d learned over the years that cats didn’t like to physically interact with spirits. Given the shock the sprite had given him when he’d reached out to it, he couldn’t blame her.

  “I don’t know,” he told Moira hesitantly. “I almost…”

  He stared at the sprite, and this time, he saw it as clearly as though someone had focused a lens. When he realized what he was looking at, his heart broke clean in two.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Why didn’t you tell me Sophie was pregnant?”

  Well, this was one hell of a way to greet a Saturday morning, Eli thought.

  He and Haley hadn’t been awake long when his phone rang. As soon as he said hello, Noah asked him tersely if he was up or not.

  “Yeah, I can be. Why?”

  “Because we need to talk. I’m on my way down.”

  “What was that about?” Haley asked, lifting her head from his shoulder with a concerned look.

  “I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound good. We’d better get dressed.”

  Five minutes later, Eli was trying to figure out what in the world had happened.

  “Why didn’t you tell me Sophie was pregnant?”

  Eli stared at his brother, dismayed. “She told you?”

  “Not exactly.” Noah sat at the small table in Haley’s kitchen, head in his hands, and glared at the floor.