Letters from Owen

by T. L. Haddix

  Sarah rubbed his back. “You love her, and you give her time. It’s that simple.”

  Gilly had had a rough pregnancy with Ricky, as they were calling the baby. When she’d had Michelle, his older sister, four years ago, things had gone smoothly. But she’d had a couple of miscarriages since then, and while she’d managed to carry Ricky to term, she’d been sick the entire time. She’d had to have a C-section to deliver him, and the surgeon had told Jack then that she couldn’t risk another pregnancy.

  Jack, who was head-over-heels devoted to Gilly, was terrified of losing her, and after the news, he’d put his foot down. She’d agreed, and she’d gotten her tubes tied two days after Ricky was born. While she understood the need for the decision, it was devastating to her nonetheless. To Jack too, Sarah knew.

  “She wanted a houseful, you know,” Jack said quietly, his gaze going to Michelle, who was playing in the corner of the living room with her dolls. “We both did. But we have two beautiful, healthy babies, and we thank God for them. We’ll simply have to spoil them rotten.”

  “I have little doubt that’ll be the case.” Sarah tucked her hair behind her ear. “Speaking of babies…”

  Jack sent her a sidelong glance and grinned. “I know you, Sarah Jane. You’ve got baby fever again, don’t you?”

  She made a face at him, but her cheeks felt hot, and she couldn’t meet his eyes. Thankful she had a close enough relationship to Jack that they could speak so frankly, she said, “I haven’t told Owen yet. I’m planning to this afternoon. I don’t know how he’s going to feel about number four.”

  Her brother turned to stare at her more fully. “You’re expecting?”

  “Yes.”

  Jack’s smile softened, and he touched her shoulder. “How about that? Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled, though the expression was tinged with sadness. “I don’t think we’ll go to Georgia this year. The timing… well, it’s probably best if we stay here.”

  Every year since they’d gotten married, she and Owen had made the trek to Savannah, where Sarah’s mother and sister lived. They’d stay in a little cottage close to Eliza’s house, usually for a month or so, since Owen could write anywhere he found good light. This year, however, Sarah and Jack’s sister, Kathy, had taken a turn in her fight against severe depression. It had gotten so bad that both Eliza and Charles, Kathy’s husband, were afraid she was going to have to be institutionalized.

  Kathy had lost her two children years earlier in a horrific tragedy that had left her with debilitating depression and anxiety. When she’d found out Gilly was pregnant with Ricky, following on the heels of Sarah having a miscarriage while they were in Georgia last year, she’d had trouble coping. A recent change in medications had only made things worse, and though her doctors were trying to help her, there wasn’t a lot that they could do.

  “Maybe, maybe not. I’d see what Mama thinks. Maybe you could go early, before you’re showing?” Jack said kindly.

  “I’ll talk to Mama about it, see what she thinks. I know she could use our company right now, but it might be more than they could all handle, having us there. I hate being so far away from her.”

  “So do I,” he confessed. “Especially now. And I miss Dad so much. He’d have been overjoyed to have so many grandkids. Maybe if he’d still been alive…”

  They exchanged a long, solemn look. The possibility that their father, Ira Browning, could have prevented the tragedy that had cost Kathy her children was something they’d discussed over the years. He’d died less than a year before it happened, and the family had still been reeling from his loss when Moira and Junior were taken in a vicious attack that had nearly cost them Kathy as well.

  “You know we can’t go down that road. It serves no purpose other than making us sad,” Sarah told him quietly. “But I miss him too. I hate that he never got to see our kids. Maybe he did though. I like to think he’s their guardian angel. That’s probably silly.”

  Jack winked at her. “Only if it makes me silly to think it too. So how are you going to tell Owen?”

  She laughed. “In a letter, of course.” With a reluctant sigh, she pressed a kiss to Ricky’s forehead, then handed him to Jack. “I’d best head up the mountain. He’ll be getting home any minute now, and I need to give him a hand with the kids. Do you think… do you think he’ll be happy about number four?”

  They’d not exactly planned this pregnancy, though they’d not been doing anything to prevent it either. Owen had said months ago that they’d leave it up to the universe, but when she hadn’t immediately fallen pregnant, Sarah had figured a fourth baby wasn’t in the cards. She’d easily gotten pregnant each of the three previous times.

  Jack snuggled the baby into the crook of his arm. “He’ll be ecstatic. A word of advice, however—given what happened last year in Georgia, he also might be scared. I know each time Gilly told me she was pregnant after the first miscarriage, that was always in the back of my mind.”

  “It’s in the front of my mind,” Sarah said. “I’ll ask you for advice now—any wisdom you can share?”

  He gave her a one-armed hug. “Just love each other and try not to worry about the what-ifs. Easier said than done, but try not to let the worry steal your joy.”

  A few minutes later, as Sarah walked up the path that led to the top of the mountain where she and Owen lived, she went over and over Jack’s words, as well as Dr. Boggs’s advice.

  “One miscarriage after two successful pregnancies doesn’t alarm me,” the kind doctor had said yesterday after he’d performed the exam confirming her suspicions. “You’re healthy, you take care of yourself, you don’t do any ridiculous things that might put you at risk for losing this child. As horrible as it sounds, miscarriage is not an uncommon event. As a matter of fact, most women who have children experience at least one. People just don’t talk about it.”

  “Is there any way to know? Anything I should look out for or do to prevent it from happening again?”

  He patted her hands. “Sometimes I have an idea that a mother won’t make it to term. She’s sickly or there’s a lot of spotting early on, for example. I believe you were quite ill in the last weeks before you lost your child last year, weren’t you?”

  Sarah nodded. “Almost as soon as we got to Georgia, I got sick and stayed sick until it was over. And I spotted too.”

  “And this time? Any of those issues?” When she shook her head, he nodded. “Something else to consider is that oftentimes, if a woman makes it past the first twelve weeks, she has a very good chance of delivering a baby. You’re at close to eight now, if our calculations are correct.”

  She knew about the twelve-week mark, as she and Gilly had both been within that first trimester when they had their miscarriages, and she’d done some reading after she’d healed enough emotionally.

  “So you’re basically telling me to stop worrying, right?”

  He chuckled. “Basically. I know it isn’t easy, but do try. And if you have concerns, all you have to do is call or stop by.”

  “And what about traveling? Should I avoid it?”

  The doctor considered the question. “So long as you stop often and stretch your legs, don’t get too tired, I think you’ll be fine.”

  “No, it isn’t easy,” she said to herself now as she stopped on the path at the spot where Owen had asked her out on their first date. She placed a hand on the damp rock that still wore its winter chill. Here on the east face of the mountain, it didn’t get a lot of sun, and the rock wouldn’t fully warm up until late summer.

  Continuing on, she passed the tree that marked the Campbell property line. Years ago, she’d regularly trespassed on this land, having no notion that someday she’d be married to the reclusive man who owned it. That trespassing had led to chance meetings with Owen—though he’d not been in his human form—that had set their story in motion.
/>
  Within a couple of minutes, she reached the waterfall and pool where they’d had so many dates, both before and after their marriage. As a matter of fact, she was fairly certain John had been conceived one hot summer night on top of the large, flat boulder overlooking the pool, and as she made her way along the bench of land that led to the top of the boulder, she smiled.

  Every step she took brought her closer to Owen and their family and was filled with memories, laughter, and love. Most of the memories were good, and the happiness that pervaded their life, winding like a thread throughout the days and weeks and years, helped ease the ache of the memories that weren’t as warm and cherished.

  They’d driven to town that morning to do a few errands and had stopped on the way home with some supplies for Jack and Gilly, as well as to see the baby. When their own kids, six-year-old John and three-year-old twins Emma and Ben, had gotten restless, Owen had rounded them up.

  “Time to head home, you little hooligans, before you tear the house down or wake Gilly. She needs her rest.”

  “Do you mind if I walk?” Sarah asked. “I’d like some fresh air.”

  He sent her a searching look. “Not at all. Everything okay?”

  “Mm-hmmm. I just want to stretch my legs.”

  But she’d also wanted a chance to be alone for a few minutes and review in her mind what she’d said in the letter she’d written early that morning. Too, she’d been holding Ricky when Owen and the kids had left and she’d not been quite ready to hand him over. Driving around the mountain to their home took about as long as the walk up from Firefly Hollow, where Jack and Gilly lived in the old homeplace.

  Moving faster now that she was past the waterfall, she soon reached the edge of the trees. The meadow opened up in front of her, with the barn some distance away on her left and the renovated farmhouse she and Owen called home situated to her right. The early spring flowers were blooming in earnest, though most of the flower beds were still fallow, waiting for warmer weather and sunshine to call them to action.

  Owen’s Bronco was parked beside the house, but there was no sign of him or the kids. Sarah grimaced—she’d not meant to stay so long with Jack, as she’d known the kids would probably be a handful by the time Owen got them home.

  “I should have timed it better,” she said as she reached the front porch.

  But Owen stepped outside just then with a welcoming smile as though he’d not seen her in weeks, never mind that he’d left her only twenty minutes earlier, and her heart melted.

  “Pretty girl, have you come to whisk me away to your enchanted kingdom?” he said in a low voice, pulling her to him for a lingering kiss. “I could allow myself to be ensorcelled if you have.”

  Sarah leaned into him, more than happy to return his embrace. “I believe it’s more likely that I’m the one ensorcelled, sir. You’ve lured me to return to your lair from afar.” Unable to continue with the fantastical teasing, she dissolved into snorting giggles against his chest.

  With a relaxed grin, he held her closer and lightly danced her back and forth. “Your children are sound asleep, madam. I think we’d better take advantage of that while we can.” He kissed her again, this time with considerably more heat. “Maybe they’ll even stay asleep long enough for me to seduce you twice.”

  “Then let’s stop wasting time here on the porch,” she murmured against his lips before nipping him.

  He lifted an eyebrow even as he opened the door and walked her inside. “My kisses are a waste of your time?”

  Sarah tugged on the hem of his shirt, slipping it from his pants as they moved down the hall toward the bedroom. “Oh, no. Never such a thing. I live to be kissed by you, husband. But considering what you just started and what I know about your seduction methods? The front porch isn’t where I want to be at the moment.”

  Close to an hour later, she was draped across his chest, tracing his muscles with her fingertips. “I love these lazy afternoons, you know,” she said around a yawn. “Goodness, but you’ve worn me out, Owen Campbell.”

  “Mm, and you me.” Then he gave a little groan. “I think I just heard tiny feet hit the floor upstairs.”

  “I guess I’d better get dressed then.” She started to roll over but stopped when he kissed her. Pulling back before things got too heated, she whimpered. “You’re too tempting. Do you know that?”

  Owen pushed her hair back off her face and smiled. “I’m nowhere near as tempting as you. I love you, wife.”

  Catching his hand, she placed a kiss to his palm, then lightly bit the heel. “And I love you. I need to get supper started anyhow, so I guess it’s a good thing they’re waking up, but I’ll remember this later.”

  There was no doubt about the kids being awake now, as the soft pitter-patter from upstairs grew more pronounced, accompanied by childish laughter.

  “Back to work we get,” Owen said as he pulled on his pants. “I’ll go round them up.”

  Once dinner was in the oven a short time later, Sarah padded barefoot down the hall to the living room. She stopped in the wide doorway and watched Owen interacting with the babies, her heart near to bursting it was so full of love.

  John was seated beside him, cross-legged on the floor, his pose mimicking Owen’s. Ben was next to John, the three of them forming a semicircle. John was handing Ben building blocks one by one, which he placed on a haphazardly stacked tower in front of him. Emma, ever watchful, was snuggled up in Owen’s lap, no doubt waiting for the perfect moment to strike her brothers’ creation and bring it tumbling down.

  When Owen glanced up and saw her standing there, he grinned. “Come join the fun.”

  “What are we building?” she asked as she walked inside.

  “A fort, Mama,” Ben told her. “We’re gonna put Dolly inside and rescue her.”

  John sent her a look that was so mature and resigned it had her stifling laughter. “Emma says she won’t knock it down this time.”

  From his tone, he clearly didn’t believe his sister. Sarah couldn’t blame him—Emma loved to wreak havoc on the boys’ forts and buildings.

  The curly haired imp turned her eyes to Sarah. “I won’t, Mama. I pwomise.” Then she chortled, a belly laugh that was infectiously cute and irresistible and had both her parents grinning like fools.

  John sighed loudly, not as charmed as Sarah and Owen. “See?”

  “Emma, it isn’t very nice to tear things down once they build them,” Sarah told her, brushing a wayward curl back off her daughter’s forehead. “Why don’t we go sit on the couch and read that new book I brought you from the library?”

  The little girl stuck out her lower lip, pouting as she considered the offer. After studying Ben’s fort for a long minute, she shrugged and clambered off Owen’s lap. “Do I get Dolly back, Mama?”

  Sarah caught her face and gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Absolutely, as soon as Johnny and Ben mount a successful rescue campaign.”

  With a tentative peace agreement reached, Emma settled in on the couch with Sarah. Owen stayed on the floor with the boys, not supervising but simply being near them. For what had to be the millionth time, Sarah said a quick, silent prayer of gratitude for having him. He was such a good father—kind, loving, and patient—a sharp contrast to his own father, from what she had heard.

  Since Owen worked from home, he was the one taking care of the kids three days a week while she worked part-time at the library in town. Getting their routine straightened out had taken them a little while. She’d not gone back to work until a year after John’s birth and had waited until the twins were almost two before ending her maternity leave.

  But she loved her job, so they’d decided it was time for her to go back, and they’d decided against trying to find a babysitter. Instead, Owen had simply adjusted his writing schedule. On the days she worked, he took care of the children and whatever else needed att
ention, working around the kids if and when he could. On the days she didn’t work, he escaped to his studio, and Sarah did her best to only call him back to the house if there was an urgent problem. Plus, most nights he went back out and worked late for a couple of hours after she’d gone to bed.

  Now, with the fourth baby on the way, she realized she probably wouldn’t return to work until this child was at least two, if not older. That might mean losing her position for good at the library. If that was the case, she’d deal with it when it happened.

  A few hours later, the day was winding to a close. With the kids bathed and tucked in bed and the last of the evening’s chores completed, she and Owen met in the downstairs hall.

  He slipped his arms around her from behind and kissed her neck. “I believe you said something about a rain check earlier today?”

  Sarah’s eyes fluttered closed as his hands traced the skin of her belly, moving upward. “Yes, but I have something for you first.”

  He paused. “A present?”

  “Um, of a sort, yes.” She pulled away and went to the table beside the front door, where she’d stashed the letter. When she turned, she bit her lip as she studied him. “I hope you like it.” Gathering her nerve, she handed him the letter.

  He smiled. “I always like your letters. Want me to read it now?”

  She nodded. “Please.”

  Feeling ridiculously shy, she moved around him and sat on the stairs. Owen joined her, frowning with curiosity as he sat down and carefully unsealed the envelope. As he read, Sarah watched, her hands pressed firmly between her knees to keep from biting her thumb, a nervous habit she’d not realized she had until Emma came along and did the same.

  After a long, tense minute, he drew in a shaky breath, then slowly expelled it as he looked at her. “Really?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Yeah.”

  He swallowed hard as he folded the letter, then set it aside and wrapped her in a tight hug. “Oh, Sarah.”

  To her surprise, he was shaking. When she pulled back to try to get a look at his face, he stopped her with a fierce kiss. The kiss was brief, but he kept one hand tangled in her hair, his face pressed to hers. The dampness on his cheek was another surprise, and she touched his closed eyes.