“It was good having you here, son,” Joe said in earnest, meeting them at the door, and hugged him. Micah couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a hearty hug like that.
“I told him to come for the barbecue tomorrow,” Sarah explained from the stairs and Joe instantly nodded.
“We’d love to have you,” he agreed, then it was Margie’s turn to hug him before Tara threw her arms around him.
“It was so good meeting you!”
He gave the sentiment back, then opened the door, hoping Sarah would follow and therefore drive him because he really didn’t feel like walking, although it was easy enough to find his way. To the end of the driveway, left, and then always straight until reaching the Ashburn city limits.
To his luck she followed him, being on the porch steps as he turned. Behind her the doorway was empty, yet he felt as if they were being watched.
This was worse than returning Lena Mittens after their first dance in High school, and he hadn’t even been on a date with Sarah.
She reached into her pocket, hesitating for a moment, then she handed over the truck keys. “Here, take the beast back,” she ordered and he reached out for the keys although he knew it meant he had to return here at least once, if he wanted to or not.
“Don’t get lost,” she winked and he grinned, wondering why her hug was the only one he didn’t seem to get—and yet suddenly craved.
“I’m sure I can find the way.” He forced his hands into his pockets, reluctant to go, no matter how ridiculous that was.
“Thank you for having been here,” she eventually said into the silence and Micah nodded.
“It was fun and… well, cozy. I cannot remember the last time I’d had such a pleasant dinner.” Because whenever he was at his sister’s, things were quiet, rather sterile. They used to be like the Timbers, loud and boisterous, before his parents had died.
It was only when standing there, looking at the Timbers’ farm, that he considered that maybe they should’ve been like that after their parents’ death, too, to honor their memories.
“My family’s something else,” she agreed and he realized she couldn’t meet his eyes any longer. Stepping closer again, he grabbed her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. It was like she was a totally changed person, had been from the moment they’d entered together.
“Sarah, what is going on?”
She lowered her eyes, but he just squeezed a little more, not enough to hurt her, but enough to catch her attention again.
“I’m lost… Have been since he died. I don’t know who I am any longer, and being with my family without him is… I feel like I’m fourteen all over again, having to manage my life without him there.”
She looked young then, so much younger than she had before, grief-stricken and lost, and Micah felt a wave of tenderness rush through him.
“Come here,” he whispered and drew her in. “He wouldn’t want that, you know that, right?”
He felt the way her fingers curled into his jacket at his back, holding onto him tighter, but staying silent.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he asked as she didn’t say anything.
“Okay.”
Stepping back from her was harder than it ever had been to step back from his own sister.
He got into the truck, wondering why in the world he hadn’t refused to take it, but instead had even promised to come back, and surely not just to drop off the truck.
Chapter 3
Sarah made her way to the inside of the house the next day. She loved working on the farm, loved being close to home and in contrary to most people, she didn’t mind living at home again at twenty-four.
“Sarah, darling, can you please come here for a second?” her mother called and Sarah gritted her teeth. This was the reason she tried to avoid being inside the house as much as possible.
“Coming.” Maybe she shouldn’t have given up her small apartment in Ashburn. Then again, her parents wouldn’t have left her alone there, either.
She entered the kitchen, smiling as she saw the chicken wings marinating while her mother worked over the patties for the burgers.
“Would you mind helping me with the potato salad?” she asked innocently enough and Sarah nodded, washing up before getting out a knife.
They worked in silence for a while, Sarah’s task the same it had been since she’d turned twelve, and yet it took only twenty minutes until her mother cleaned her hands and sat down in a chair.
“I thought you didn’t go to the cemetery every day anymore,” she started and Sarah made sure she kept her features neutral.
“I don’t. Luckily I’d been there yesterday or we wouldn’t have known Micah was in town,” she replied.
“He said he’d wanted to come by anyway,” her mother pointed out.
Sarah wasn’t sure about that. She’d seen the hesitation in him, and wasn’t the least bit surprised.
When Elton had mentioned Micah hardly ever listened to back-home stories, she’d thought it was an understatement, but that man was more scared of family and connections than anyone she’d ever met.
“Maybe,” Sarah conceded, hoping that was the end of the talk, but she should’ve known better.
“He reminds me of you, you know?”
Sarah’s head snapped up. “Micah reminds you of me?” The notion was ridiculous. He stood with both feet on the ground, his life sorted and orderly, had reached something in the army and definitely wasn’t as bubbly as Sarah normally was.
“Yes. You’re both adrift in a sea of loneliness, no light to guide you, no place to hold onto. You don’t have anywhere you two belong, and it couldn’t be more obvious.”
Sarah laughed, the sound incredulous, and she knew it. “I have a place I belong. Right here.”
“You should be in an office, doing paralegal work the way you learned it instead of working on a farm. You should meet people you’re not related to. You should be dating and breaking hearts. You should spread sunshine, and you haven’t since it happened.”
“Since Elton died. You can say it. I’m not gonna break down. I’m okay. I love being on the farm, and I don’t need to see people.”
No, she didn’t want to hang out with her friends because they didn’t understand her, hadn’t been touched by pain the way she had.
“You’re not okay, and it’s worrying your father and me.”
Sarah placed the knife down louder than was necessary. “If you want me to move out, just say so. I’ll find a place. No worries.” She didn’t say that she was being paid by her father only and that it would make it impossible to pay rent and feed herself. She also didn’t say that she was terrified of moving away from home again and forgetting Elton altogether.
Neither did she point out that she was drowning, and people didn’t realize it most of the time because she smiled and beamed and sang anyway.
Only with Micah there it had been impossible, because the way he’d talked, the way everyone had acted around him was exactly how it would’ve been with Elton.
It had caused her to miss Elton more than all the other days, even if she was acutely aware of the fact that Micah wasn’t Elton.
They didn’t look anything alike, but for a few minutes last night during dinner Sarah had been able to catch a glimpse at the easy-going guy her brother had considered his best friend even when life had pulled them apart.
Her mother sighed in exasperation. “We don’t want you to move out. We want you to wear an honest smile. We want you happy. We want you to remember El would’ve wanted you to live, and not wither away. I—”
“I’m fine, Mom. Excuse me.” She left the kitchen, went straight to the front door and back out. She hesitated a moment, wondering where to go, and went for the barn. It had been her hiding place during her teenage years, and the only person who’d ever sought her there had been El when he’d been home. Those first years after he’d joined the Army had been the worst. After that he’d been home much more, doing shorter tours and
spending the time then with his family.
They’d gotten even closer—until he’d been shot while being out of the country.
War sucked, and Sarah sighed as she climbed the steps in the barn.
She’d always hated knowing her brother was away and in danger, but in the end it all hadn’t mattered because it had been what he’d loved above all… and even his wife hadn’t been able to ground him fully.
She assumed that was what happened if you fell in love with a soldier. It would always be the Army first, and everything else after.
***
Micah hadn’t been able to find any sleep. The bed in the Bed and Breakfast he’d stayed in had been comfortable enough, but his mind had been on Timber’s little sister.
And she, too, was the first thing he saw when returning to the farm, but she seemed to be preoccupied, almost in distress. Micah considered giving her privacy as he watched her vanish inside the barn, but something within him urged him to follow her, to make sure she was ok.
Almost as if Timber was by his side, telling him it was what he’d do.
There were a few horses inside the barn, as well as an old tractor, and yet Micah didn’t spot Sarah downstairs, leading him to believe she’d made her way up to the hayloft. It was almost fully filled, and it took him a moment until he heard shuffling to his left, following the noise.
He found her by a window, overlooking pastures and paddocks, her dark hair blowing in the breeze coming in through the wide window.
“Sarah,” he muttered as he stood almost directly next to her, and she winced, taking a step back. Micah reached out instantly as her heel caught on a bent floorboard, causing her to stumble. Drawing her against his chest, he kept her from falling out of the window, and his heart did a panicked jolt at the thought of her hurt.
Her face darkened and she pushed herself off him. “Micah! Are you trying to kill me?”
He almost smirked as her eyes went over him, and he liked the appreciation he saw in hem—before they darkened with anger again.
“I didn’t expect anyone to be up here. You could’ve called my name before or so,” she snapped and he reached for her arm as she wanted to pass him.
“You didn’t hear the truck coming, and that makes me think something’s wrong. I…” He trailed off, unsure of what to say because he usually left people alone. If someone wanted to talk to him, they would.
Only with Sarah he didn’t see himself ever letting her run off, upset.
And that almost sounded as if he planned on sticking around.
“What’s going on?” he asked gently and she sighed, combing her fingers through her hair.
“I had a fight with mom. Supposedly dad and she are worried and… You know, it doesn’t matter.”
It mattered to him. “Because you’re hiding?”
She blinked up at him, those blue eyes suspicious, and he almost smiled.
“I’m not hiding.”
“You’re what? Twenty-five? You shouldn’t be living at home. You shouldn’t be looking like a seventeen-year-old. You cannot get back your teenage years, even if you throw temper tantrums like one.”
She gaped at him. “I don’t.”
He cocked his head. “Running out into the barn because you didn’t like what your mother said? Temper tantrum like a teen,” he pointed out. He wanted to antagonize her to maybe get her to scream and cry, because it would make her feel better, and then she could talk to him and maybe tell him what was going on, but it was working only half way.
“You don’t know me, Micah. And no matter what, you’re not my big brother. I can do what I want and you—”
“Care,” he finished for her because he did. He had no idea why or how or when, but he did.
She watched him in silence for a moment and then shook her head, wanting to leave him standing, but he wouldn’t have that.
“Why am I here, Sarah?” She froze with her back to him, needing a second, then she turned.
“Because you had the truck?” she offered and he closed the distance between them.
“No, why did you take me back to the house? Why did you give me the keys to the truck in the first place? Why invite me to dinner again?”
She lowered her head and he touched her arm, wanting her to look at him.
“Elton knew you’d come. Elton prepared for you to come. I don’t know if he changed his will regularly, or if he had planned on leaving it the way it was forever and ever, but I know he wrote letters every year. They were with his will. I got one, and so did the family,” she admitted.
He wasn’t surprised she’d gotten a special one.
“And so did I, didn’t I?” he asked.
A small smile played over her lips. “Snooping in a car that’s not yours?” she questioned and he shrugged.
“I didn’t snoop. There was a lamp lighting up and I figured there had to be a handbook somewhere. The truck is so old, I didn’t even know what it meant.”
She grinned now, making him grin in return. “And, did you fill it up with gas?”
“Sure did. However, it’s not exactly the polite way, is it? Letting the stranger go in an empty truck.”
Sarah sobered. “I’ll pay you back. I didn’t realize it was so low after our trip through the forest.”
“That thing burns gas like crazy,” he accused and she nodded, then she sighed.
“I didn’t read your letter. Just put it in the truck because…” She shrugged and he realized there was something else she didn’t say, but he didn’t press.
“Wanna know what it said?” he asked and then waited as she considered the offer.
Eventually she pointed over to the wall, nodding him to follow her. “Let me hear.”
He took the paper out of his pocket while she slid down on the wall, looking at him, waiting.
“Ready?”
She nodded, albeit hesitant. Micah cleared his throat, then he started reading.
“Mic,
You’ve been my brother for the better part of my life. Not the better part as in years, but as in quality time and… you know, it doesn’t matter. You reading this means I’m dead. I hope it was with Cathy by my side while we did the deed. You know, it would be an epic death.
Then again, it most likely wasn’t.
Thank you for having seen my family. Is Sarah okay? Tell me she’s okay. Hell, she most likely isn’t.
I couldn’t move away because of her. She’s the baby of the family, the most emotional one, the one with the biggest heart… the one easily broken. I need you to look out for her, okay? Beat up the guys that want to date her. Find the idiots who hurt her.
Talk to her.
Someone has to because I can’t any longer.
But… don’t hug her. I want her to remember my hugs. And remember, she’s my sister.
My family needs you, okay? Watch out for them occasionally.
Take care, Lieutenant.
Timber.”
“How could you forget that I’m his sister?” she asked, confused, as he lowered the letter, and Micah grinned to himself.
“No idea.” He had a very good idea what Timber had meant, but didn’t think Sarah needed to know. Especially because he wasn’t looking for a quick adventure.
No, he was there to indeed make sure she’d be okay, and somehow, seeing her that afternoon, he knew she definitely wasn’t.
***
Being with the family, spending time with them, had become the center point of Sarah’s life. She was terrified of losing more relatives, no matter how distant. She knew it wasn’t normal, the anxiety she felt at that thought, or the need to stay where she was, but it didn’t matter.
She’d be okay in a few weeks, that much she was sure of.
“S?”
She turned on the porch, wiping her tears away. She hadn’t even realized they were falling.
“Tara. Is the food ready yet?” No matter how early they started, her father had a tendency to wait too long and draw out dinner unt
il half of the family was starving.
“Surprisingly yes. Micah took over, and it seems he knew what he was doing. The steaks are perfect. You’ll love them. Come on. Don’t stand around alone here in the front while everyone else is in the back.”
Tara took her hand, drawing her along, but as much as Sarah had looked forward to the food, she suddenly didn’t see herself eating any of it.
She found her family at the table, Micah standing by the grill, and she took his side.
He wore his pain and solitude like armor, and it made her feel as if she could be lonely with him because he’d understand.
“Eat, Sarah,” he muttered while turning some patties on the grill.
“I’m not hungry really,” she replied and he took a plate to put a patty on, handing it to her.
“Do me the favor and eat, okay?” he pleaded and she sighed.
The things to prepare the burger were on a table nearby and she watched him as she prepared her food the way she liked it most: no onions, but more than enough cheese, some bacon and lettuce on top of the sauces.
Her mouth watered and still she didn’t sit down with her family.
“I swear they have manners,” she announced before biting into her burger. Micah looked up at her.
“Who?”
Sarah nodded her head over to her family. “Them,” she said around a mouthful and swallowed before continuing. “Normally you don’t let the guest do the hard work.”
He laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement, then he shrugged. “I honestly don’t mind. I fear Timber told too many embarrassing stories about me, so I rather stay away from the dinner table where everyone’s going to try and remind me of them.”
Sarah grinned, chewing before she cleared her throat. “He didn’t only tell us the fun stuff. He also told us about the hard parts. Losing comrades and how you made it all better by keeping your head focused and not letting everyone fall apart. It makes me wonder though…”
She watched him as he turned the last patties, deciding they were done. He placed them on a cooking grate a little higher and then closed the smoker to keep them warm and finish the chicken wings off.
Help Our Heroes: A Military Charity Anthology Page 55