by S. J. Wright
It was a completely natural instinct that drove Katie to overlook our father’s rather late notice of his coming death and provide a wealth of comfort and kind words to try to counter the guilt that seemed to seep out of him.
As for myself, I had taken the news as a kind of betrayal. With Katie’s education already well on its way to bringing her the career of her dreams, I had remained at the Inn without a choice for a different vocation. He had always expected me to follow behind him, to continue to run things. He never ventured to ask if there might be something else I would like to do with my life.
When the three of us met with his oncologist to get a more complete view of his prognosis, I did not shed a tear. I asked all the right questions and wrote down the answers meticulously in a little black notebook I had bought for just that occasion. While Dad and Katie held hands and cried bitter, useless tears, I grilled the doctor about chemotherapy and radiation treatments and any tiny detail that would keep me focused.
My sister had commented later that I seemed strangely aloof about the whole situation, to which I replied scornfully, “I don’t wear my emotions on my sleeve for the world to see. So sue me.”
Two months later, he died in a hospice facility on the north side of Indianapolis.
Standing in my room three short months after his death, I finally let go. Tears slid down my cheeks as I recalled his last breath. The sobs did not fully erupt until after I had settled down into my bed with my head on my pillow. I tried to keep them muffled so Nelly would not hear and come to check on me. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. I felt like I had been broken into a dozen pieces. And I did not know how to put them back together.
Chapter Two
Sleep did not come easily that night. The aching pressure in my chest lightened only slightly after all the crying. I kept thinking about my father and wondered if things might have been different had he opted for the chemo that the doctors had recommended. I also thought about Nelly and wondered how she could have deceived me for all those years. They had both known my mother was alive and never told me. I tossed around for an hour or so. Once, I thought I heard Dr. Fleming’s familiar voice in the hall, but I did not want to leave my room and have everyone see the condition I was in.
When my alarm went off at six, the sun was still two hours from coming up and I had probably only logged about two hours of sleep. However, I had to check on Alex, get the coffee started, and head up to the large guest cabin to get it ready for a family group coming in the afternoon. I wanted to avoid Nelly if possible. Knowing the truth, I did not see how I could face her.
I checked my cell phone and found a text message from my sister.
Dr. Fleming was here yesterday. What the hell is going on? Call me ASAP.
How much had he told her? Did she know about Mom being alive? I dialed her number.
“You must have got my text.” She answered groggily, obviously not through her first cup of coffee yet.
“Yeah. How’re your classes going?” I tried to sound nonchalant but knew it was not going to work. Katie knew me better than anybody did. Even though she had been taking classes at Purdue University for two years, we still kept in daily contact by text, phone, e-mail or all three. She had started coming home more often on the weekends after Dad’s death. In addition, as a sister should, she always knew when something was wrong with me.
“Screw my classes! What the hell is going on? Dr. Fleming came all the way out here yesterday and said that Dad left you a journal.” Her impatience was volatile and I could hear the frustration in her every word.
“Yes. Did he say anything else?”
“Only that there were things that you and I needed to talk about and it had to do with our mother.”
This was not a conversation I wanted to have over the phone with her. I did not want to say anything until I’d looked through the journal but opening it scared the hell out of me. It was sitting on my nightstand as I talked to Katie and I was not about to get into it with her on the phone.
“Listen, I have one early class I can’t miss on Friday. I’m driving down there right after that, okay?” She said.
“That would probably be a good idea, but I don’t want to mess up any plans you might have.”
She hesitated for a minute then continued in a softer voice, “This is serious, isn’t it? Are you okay, Sarah?”
I felt a sob trying to make its way through my voice. I tried like hell to get it under control.
“We’ll talk when you get here. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
After a quick shower, I braided my hair, pulled on a pair of faded Levi’s and a hoodie, and went down the hall to check on Alex. When I knocked lightly, there was no answer at first. Then the door opened and I saw that Alex was not just up, but dressed as well. There was a small bandage at his temple, covering the cut that Nelly and I had tended to last night, but other than that, he looked fine. Better than fine, actually.
He had put on an old pair of my Dad’s jeans and a dark gray sweater that my Aunt Lillian had knitted for my Dad years ago that he’d never actually worn. His blond hair was still damp from his shower and it fell over his brow in golden waves. He grinned at me sheepishly, showing an adorable dimple in one cheek.
“Thanks for your help last night.”
“You’re welcome.” I went to the bed and began taking the sheets off it, trying not to feel his eyes on me. There were so many questions I wanted to ask him about himself but I could not seem to find the nerve to get that personal with him. It did not seem like a good idea at all.
“Do I make you nervous or something?” His question sounded sincere instead of teasing.
“A little, I guess.” I folded up the blanket and duvet and put them on the padded bench at the end of the bed, “How did you end up out here? We’re not exactly close to town or anything.”
His green eyes grew serious suddenly and I felt my heartbeat speed up.
“I’m here because of you, Sarah.”
I suddenly went very still. Inside, my mind began buzzing with a million little frightening thoughts. He was crazy. He was a stalker. He was going to kill me. I covered my face with my hands, trying to slow down the insistent warnings screaming at me.
“What are you talking about?” I murmured shakily.
He sat on the bare mattress, regarding me with eyes full of apology and concern, “This is going to be hard for you to hear. But your mother sent me here.”
No. No. This last thing was too much. I wanted to be far away from him at that moment. I wanted everything around me to disappear because even the word “mother” sent shivers of agony down my spine. Tears began to blur my vision but I managed to wipe away the moisture before it went rolling down my cheeks.
“I don’t know my mother.” I choked out, “And I want you to leave here. Now.”
I left the bedroom, slamming the door behind me with a bang and not looking back. That did not just happen, I told myself. It was all a huge mistake and he is talking to the wrong person. He didn’t know what he was talking about. He did not know anything about my family. He certainly could not know my mother. There was no way.
I bumped into Nelly, who was carrying a pile of towels toward the huge linen closet near the top of the stairs. The towels scattered onto the floor.
“Sorry, Nelly.” I didn’t bother helping her pick anything up. I had to get out of there.
I left the main guesthouse, walked around to the side of the property and headed down the wooded lane in the direction of the meadow. By then, the tears were streaming down my cheeks and leaving cold wet trails of moisture across my face as I navigated my way down the grassy lane. The tall grass on either side of the lane sparkled with morning dew. I heard the robins in the oaks along the lane waking and chirping in their typically optimistic tones.
I stopped when I came to the horse pasture. Lenny, the huge chestnut carriage horse was snapping at the yellowing grasses with his big teeth and taking s
mall amounts into his mouth. His jaw was working to chew while his lips and nose searched for more. Occasionally, his long tail would snap this way and that, batting at a fly on his hindquarters. He paid me no attention.
His pasture mate, the smaller black mare called Messenger had noticed my arrival and stared at me as I stood there near the fence. She glanced half-heartedly over at Lenny and then slowly began to walk over to me, her beautiful black hide gleaming in the early morning sun and her velvety soft ears pricked curiously in my direction.
As usual, she stopped about five feet from the fence and just looked at me.
There was some kind of connection between Messenger and me. She had arrived three months ago after my father had seen her at a horse auction in Greenville and insisted on buying her. For the most part, she had spent all her time with us grazing and bullying Lenny in the pasture, although her previous owner had claimed she had been very well trained and an excellent mount for a young lady.
The connection we had was not about how well she moved under saddle. I had never actually ridden her. There had been many times in the past when I had pulled myself up onto Lenny’s back and ridden him around the pasture or even went trail riding with friends from high school. I knew horses. I was comfortable working around them.
However, one afternoon during my first (and last) semester of business college, I tried to ride Lenny and found that I could not do it. I was petrified. The fear had very little to do with him. He was a big baby who would not throw anyone. Nevertheless, the idea of being up on his huge back and me possibly falling scared the hell out of me. After walking around on him for just a minute or so, I realized I didn’t have the guts to push him into a faster gait.
When I slid down off his back that afternoon, I realized that something inside me had changed. The carefree girl that I had been was gone. Maybe forever. Instead of fighting it by getting back up on that old draft horse and making him gallop faster than ever before, I pulled the bride and saddle off him and trudged back up to the barn with a different attitude.
Responsibility had reared its ugly head and I began to throw myself into the routine workings of the Inn. At least I had the guts to handle that. Cleaning toilets, doing laundry, changing sheets, dusting, taking reservations over the phone, greeting guests, and pouring coffee became my lot in life. I never tried to ride Lenny again.
When Messenger first arrived, my Dad encouraged me repeatedly to take her for a ride and enjoy myself. She was mine, he had insisted. My own horse. I did love her. After I had finished my work for the day, I would bring her into the old red barn and brush her. I would run the brush over her sloped shoulders and along her spine, watching the dust and dander dance in the light of the late afternoon sunshine. I would talk to her for hours about everything I could not tell anyone else. I brought her chopped up carrots, apples, and celery and would come back in the back door of the house later with horse slobber all over my hands and a big smile on my face.
I never did try to ride her.
Deliberately trying to pull myself back to the present, I grasped the top board of the sun-faded fence and took a couple of deep breaths. I was going to be okay. Everything would be just fine. My Dad would have wanted me to be strong. Strong enough to move forward, keep the Inn operating and maybe even growing. He had counted on me to be strong.
A plaintive whine and a paw on my leg drew my attention down to my side. Sadie, our Golden Retriever met my look with soulful brown eyes and a slow wag of her wavy tail. She was worried. Although she was primarily an outside pet, Sadie would occasionally be invited inside the house if all of the guests were dog friendly and had no allergies.
I stroked her head and leaned down to give her a hug, “I’ll be okay, girl. Things are just a little weird right now.”
“She’s concerned about you.”
I looked up and found Alex leaning against the fence a few feet down. I jumped back in surprise. Sadie turned toward the stranger and paused, tilting her head slightly.
Alex kneeled down to her level and smiled, “Hey beautiful.”
That was it for Sadie. Her tail whipped back and forth and she hurtled herself into Alex with her tongue hanging out and a huge dog grin on her face. She knocked him to the ground, covered his clean shirt with dirty paw prints and his face with slobbery dog kisses. He took all this canine attention gracefully—as gracefully as one can while on the ground—and laughed softly.
“Sadie! Enough.” I told her sternly. All I wanted was for this guy to disappear. The fact that my dog was crazy about him did not change my opinion. I turned away from them both and headed back to the main guesthouse. I could try to bond with Messenger later. Getting away from Alex was my top priority at the moment.
“Hey, wait up.” I heard Alex jogging up behind me and Sadie’s happy panting following closely behind.
“You need to leave. This isn’t a halfway house.” I told him without hesitation.
The main house loomed ahead of me, looking serene and peaceful in the morning light. The wide front porch, dotted here and there with potted plants and rocking chairs was otherwise empty. The shortly cut lawn and half circle driveway were still wet with morning dew. I realized that it would only be a few short weeks before the leaves began to change and eventually fall, covering everything in brilliant gold, red, and brown leaves. The smell of wood smoke would be in the air. Families would gather around the fire pit in the back garden roasting marshmallows and hot dogs.
I paused for a moment, thinking of all the preparation needed for the busy fall season ahead. However, I could not concentrate on it at all. I felt like I was standing on the edge of some gigantic crevice, staring down into darkness full of unknown terrors. Fear made me freeze where I was. I wondered vaguely if I was having some kind of a panic attack.
“Sarah?” Alex stood next to me on the wet grass, his amazing eyes fixed on my face.
I couldn’t look away from him. He held some secret knowledge that was about to change my life forever, but I was sure I did not want to hear any of it. Escape seemed completely impossible. This was my fate, staring me in the face with earnest apology.
“Your mother sent me.” He searched my face for some sign of acceptance, “I met her in California, and she sent me here to help you.”
To help me? I shook my head. No way. She wanted to help me now? Denial was burning a path through my veins, churning and melting me inside. I clenched my fists at my sides and then folded my arms over my middle.
“There’s a lot more you need to know.” Alex’s voice felt warm to my ears, but the rest of me felt cold. I wanted to curl up somewhere and just forget everything that had happened over the past month. My Dad passing away, the doctor’s heart-wrenching news about my mother, the journal. I desperately wanted to go back in time to my old life.
He looked around, taking in the quiet scene before us and smiled slightly, “How about we find you somewhere to sit down and I’ll bring us out some coffee, okay? You need to calm down a bit, right?”
I nodded stiffly, “Yeah.”
“No problem. Nelly’s in the kitchen getting breakfast started and I’ve already got her wrapped around my little finger,” He teased, trying to lighten up the conversation. He flashed me a smile, complete with those adorable dimples before heading up to the front steps.
Sadie remained with me, looking after Alex adoringly, but obviously reluctant to leave me when she knew I was so upset. I scratched her behind her ears then went up onto the front porch. I found my favorite rocking chair and curled my legs up under me as I sat down. Sadie settled herself as close to me as possible, her big head resting on my legs and her eyes fixed on me worriedly.
I could not begin to understand why all this was happening. It was like a tidal wave of darkness, pulling me under murky waters. The emotions of the past few weeks were twisting inside of me, yanking me in many directions.
Nervously twirling a lock of my hair around my finger, I thought about Alex. Aside from the fact that he w
as completely gorgeous, he also seemed to be a polite sort. However, there was probably a dark side to him somewhere behind those striking green eyes and chiseled features.
I heard the screen door open and close as Alex came out with two steaming mugs of Nelly’s famous coffee. He must have checked with her to see how I liked it because it had plenty of cream in it. I took a deep sip, feeling its warmth soak through me slowly.
“Sarah, I know this has been a rough time for you. Losing your Dad must have been devastating.”
I shook my head, “Look, we don’t even know each other.”
He settled himself into the rocking chair beside mine and leaned forward, “I know. I understand that. But I know a lot more about you than you might imagine.”