by Sharon Sala
Chapter 17
There were washed-out pockets of earth inside the barn and what looked like ruts in the breezeway, formed as the force of the water rushed through it.
Rowan stopped, looking around to see if the structure was still sound.
“Do you think the flood weakened the barn much? I ask because I’ll need to tell the real estate agent the condition.”
“I’ll check,” Bowie said, and started walking the interior, going in and out of stalls, checking the flooring in the granaries and the inner and outer walls themselves.
He found a couple of places where soil had washed away from some of the interior poles, then noticed they’d been seated in concrete.
“This is why your barn didn’t wash away. The breezeway kept the water’s force from pushing against much of the structure itself, and the poles were set in concrete.”
Rowan looked up into the rafters, checking to see if any birds were roosting above them, but they were empty. The barn used to smell like sweet feed and hay, but no more.
“I played in here all of my life. I never dreamed it would be the shelter that saved me,” she said.
“I don’t want to stir up any more bad memories, but I need to climb up in the loft and see what the rest of it looks like. I know the water didn’t get up that high, but when the hurricane hit, it could have damaged the roof or walls,” Bowie said.
“I’ll go with you,” Rowan said.
“Honey, are you sure you want to do that? It’s not necessary, if you don’t.”
She looked at the stairs built onto the outer side of a granary wall, then reached for the first handhold to pull herself up and took a deep breath.
“The last time I stood here, there was water above my knees. A woman faces her fears,” she said, then took the first step and went up, with Bowie only a couple of steps behind her, testing his weight on each step as he went. They felt solid and sound to him, and in a few more steps, they were in the loft.
He immediately began walking around the perimeter, looking up through the rafters to the roof above, checking to see if he could see sunlight coming in through any holes or loose shingles.
Rowan was focused on what Bowie was doing when she thought she heard a dog bark. Without thinking, she turned around to look out and felt the floor tilt beneath her feet. She cried out, thinking she was going to fall.
Within seconds, Bowie was behind her, his arms around her, holding her close.
“Rowan, are you okay? What happened?”
“I think I turned too fast and lost my equilibrium. It felt like the floor was tilting and I was falling out of the loft.”
“Come sit over here against the wall while I finish up, okay?”
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
He frowned. “You don’t apologize for reliving a valid fear.”
She let him lead her away from the hay door. She sat, and as soon as she felt the wall at her back, she drew her knees up against her chest and closed her eyes—the same way she’d waited out the night when she was here before. But that was then, waiting for rescue. Today was for saying goodbye.
* * *
It was almost noon by the time the barn inspection was over. Rowan was second-guessing her decision to picnic, because there wasn’t a single place on the farm that wasn’t an ugly reminder of what had happened.
Bowie had already picked up on what a bad vibe the whole area had for her, and as they started back to the car, he reached for her hand. “I’ve been thinking about Grey Goose Lake for our picnic. Are you up for that?”
Rowan breathed a quick sigh of relief. “That sounds like a wonderful plan! I can’t remember the last time I was there.”
“It’s been a long time for me as well. I’m sure it’s changed some, but we can always find a good place in the shade.”
Now that he’d removed the dread, Rowan was suddenly hungry again. “What a good idea! I’m excited.”
Bowie laughed. “You have a kick-ass smile, Dark Eyes. You should get excited more often.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” she said.
He got a couple of bottles of water from the cooler when they got back to the car.
“Thank you,” she said, and took a big drink before she buckled up, while Bowie downed a good half of the bottle in one big drink, then rubbed the cold bottle against his forehead before getting in the car. But instead of starting the engine right away, he leaned over the console, and without a word she leaned toward him and met him halfway.
Their lips were cold and wet, but the heat between them was still there. Rowan felt weightless, like she was floating, and the only thing keeping her earthbound was him.
Bowie finally let go, then watched her eyelids fluttering open and saw everything in the depths that he’d hoped for. They hadn’t said the word love, but it was there between them.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
Rowan had to pull herself back to realize he was talking about leaving the farm.
“Yes,” she said, and then leaned back as he turned around and drove away. But the next time he asked, she would say yes to anything he asked. She was ready for him and so much more.
* * *
There was a breeze coming off the water as Bowie pulled up into a parking area at Gray Goose Lake. There wasn’t another car in sight, and the dark shade from the trees surrounding the lake was a respite from the heat of the sunlit sky.
“I’ll carry the food,” Rowan said.
“And I’ll follow the woman with the food,” he said, and got out to open the rear door.
Rowan picked up the food, and he took the blanket and the small ice chest. He locked the doors, pocketed the keys, and then followed her into the woods.
“This place is beautiful,” Rowan said. The path was narrow, so she walked a few steps ahead.
“I have the best view,” he said, and waited for that to sink in. When it did, she paused and pivoted.
“Are you referring to my backside?”
“Lady! I am most certainly not…gonna lie. Yes. Yes, I am referring to the nice fit of those jeans.”
Rowan was suddenly struggling with whether she could laugh or should blush.
“Just for that, you are now the leader of this pack.”
“I was always the leader. I was just staying behind to protect your back,” he said as he moved past her and struck out on the path.
Now Rowan had the best view.
“I have never seen such a fine specimen,” she said.
Bowie burst into laughter and kept walking.
“Surely you didn’t think I was talking about you?” Rowan said. “I was referring to that little hawk perched up on that tall pine.”
“Oh, sure you were,” he said and grinned, but he felt lighter than air—like he was ten feet tall. He’d known women, but he’d never had one touch his well-guarded heart before.
It wasn’t lost on him that he would never have known her if the hurricane hadn’t gone through Blessings, and if his gran’s house had not been ruined, and if he’d let his dread of coming back again keep him away. The bottom line was that Rowan was worth it.
A few minutes later, he came upon a small clearing within the woods. There was one large, spreading oak tree out in the grass, with a generous amount of shade.
“What about here?” Bowie asked.
Rowan paused and then moved up beside him and whispered, “It looks like a place for faeries.”
Bowie thought she was teasing until he saw the look of wonder in her eyes and accepted that there must still be things unseen on this earth that he had yet to meet.
“Do you think they would mind if we borrowed their tree?”
“Not at all. Faeries love all things happy and joyful. A picnic is all of those things.”
“Then to the tree we go,” he said.
When they stopped beneath the shade and spread the blanket, Rowan felt the magic. Good things happen here, she thought, then sat down cross-legged and began pulling out sandwiches and potato chips, while Bowie opened the cooler.
“Water or Coke?” he asked.
“Um, Coke, please. The sandwiches are peppered ham and Swiss cheese.”
A slight breeze stirred the air around them, rustling the leaves above to the point they almost sounded like applause.
Rowan smiled, but Bowie was sorting out a sandwich and chips and didn’t see her.
The morning had been stressful for both of them in different ways, and the relief of this quiet beauty, and the food, and their picnic partners made this moment feel perfect.
“Mmmm, this is good,” Bowie said, and then picked up a small chip and offered it to her.
Rowan opened her mouth like a little bird, and he popped it in. As she ate, she kept looking up into the vast arbor of limbs and leaves above them as if waiting for a sign. Then she closed her eyes and breathed a prayer of thanks into the air.
For this day. For this man.
And when she was through, she opened her eyes and finished her food. Just as she was reaching for a drink, a tiny acorn dropped down into her lap, then rolled under her legs.
She smiled, unscrewed the lid, and took a drink.
“What was that?” Bowie asked.
“I thanked the faeries for allowing us their space, and that was our welcome.”
Bowie stopped eating. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “All Irish believe in faeries. My name is Rowan, after all. My mother was Irish, and she gave me the knowing the day I was born. It is the one precious thing I still hold of her that is mine alone. The one thing Daddy could never share, and the one thing he could never control.”
Bowie was so touched he could hardly speak. Sitting here with her, beneath this tree, in the bright light of a beautiful day, he could almost forget there was evil in the world. He had to tell her now—when he could feel the magic—what was in his heart.
“You with the black hair and dark eyes…and that perfect curve to your cheek…are so very beautiful. But the beauty of your face will never match the beauty of your soul. I look at you and see light, Rowan Harper. I look at you and see my own salvation. If you ever want my heart, it is yours.”
Rowan froze. The words came from love, but whether he’d meant them that way or not, they were poetry to her soul. Her hands were shaking as she began putting food back in the bag and screwing the lid back on her drink, as if she was packing up to leave.
Bowie panicked. “What are you doing? Did I say something wrong?”
Rowan looked up at him and knew her whole life had been preparing her for this moment and this man.
“You did nothing wrong and everything right. Yes, I want your heart, and I am clearing away a place to make love, so that you may have mine.”
Something broke free in Bowie’s chest as he reached for her and pulled her to him. In one smooth motion, she was beneath him, and when she wrapped her arms around his neck, he was lost.
One minute rolled into another, and another, as their kisses became urgent, and the touching and stroking was no longer enough.
Boots came off, then jeans, then they were bare and entwined in a tangle of arms and legs, and still Bowie didn’t lay claim.
Rowan was trembling from the want of him, needing to give of herself, to be the woman she was meant to be.
“No more waiting, Bowie James,” she whispered. “Do it now.”
“Ah God, woman, I want you. But I can’t bear to hurt you,” he said.
“But, Bowie, it is the way of a woman. She suffers pain, but only for a moment when she is first taken, so that she may have a life of pleasure until she takes her last breath. The ecstasy of love is her gift, to make up for the pain of giving birth.”
“Then God give me strength to make your pleasure ever more perfect than the pain,” he whispered. He moved between her legs, then ever so slowly eased his way in.
In the moment of their joining, Rowan inhaled sharply, but he kept easing his way, giving her body time to adjust. The feeling of being whole in this way was an aphrodisiac she had not expected. She wanted more, but she didn’t know what more felt like. All she knew was that every sad, lonely space within her was opening up to all the secrets of being a woman…and then he stopped.
“Forgive me, love. This is going to hurt,” Bowie said, and with one hard, quick thrust, he took what she’d given him with all the love in his heart.
Rowan cried out as he tore through, but the pain was brief, and then it faded. The next time he moved, it was a whole new sensation, and in the most tender of ways, they made love. Her joy came in knowing the pleasure she was giving him, and when the climax was upon him, she gave herself up to his release.
Bowie was spent but still coming down when he pulled away from her.
Thinking it was done, Rowan lay in quiet satisfaction and closed her eyes, a little sore, but knowing that, too, would pass.
Then she felt Bowie’s hand upon her thigh and then coaxing a little space between her legs. Her eyes flew open, and he was on his side, touching her.
“Surely, you did not think that’s all there is?” he whispered.
Rowan couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
“Close your eyes, love, and let go. Your body knows what to do, even if you don’t.”
So she did, shocked by the pleasure she was feeling, having never known this existed within her being, and it grew, and it grew into a tight, painful coil of mindless need.
She was not prepared for the climax that slammed into her in a rippling wave of heat. She cried out as it went to the top of her head, and when it rolled back into her belly to detonate. It was a feeling unlike anything she’d ever known, and she cried from a pleasure so intense that she thought she’d died.
Then she felt Bowie’s mouth on her lips, kissing the breath from her body, and then he leaned down and whispered in her ear.
“Thank you for your heart. I will love you forever.”
* * *
Rowan slept all the way back to Blessings with her head on Bowie’s leg, curled up on her side, occupying as little space as possible.
Bowie drove with one hand on the wheel and the other on her shoulder. He’d lost all sense of time and place. He had no idea what day it was and wasn’t even sure about the month. There was only him, and there was Rowan, and it was the day he’d fallen the rest of the way in love.
He had just passed the City Limit sign and was coming into Blessings when he patted Rowan’s shoulder to wake her. “Hey, baby, we’re home.”
Rowan sat up and began combing her fingers through her hair, then turned and looked at Bowie. “I didn’t just dream this, did I?”
He shook his head.
“Thanks be to Jesus,” she muttered.
He grinned.
Rowan blushed a little. “Well, it was the most beautiful day of my life, and I didn’t want it to be just my imagination.”
“We may have to live on that memory for a while. We share a home with the chaperones, remember?”
“Yes, but the memory was magic, and magic never dies,” she said.
Bowie shook his head. “Beyond the fact that I’m out-of-my-mind in love with you, you’re going to be so good for me.”
Rowan’s dark eyes were sparkling. “So, I’m going to be medicine now, am I? Then you should know that the direction for dosage is take me once at bedtime, and never on an empty stomach.”
Bowie burst out laughing.
Rowan grinned and then began putting her tennis shoes back on and fumbling through her pockets for the grocery list.
He pulled into the parking lot, found a space near the door, and parked. It was almost two o’clock. The
n he paused, his hand on the door handle.
“Will you be happy living like I live…on the move…in a home on wheels?”
Rowan sighed. The boy loved, but he still did not trust the girl.
“It’s not about where you live, Bowie. It’s who you’re living with that makes it home.”
Bowie felt her truth all the way to his bones. “I guess that might be the most perfect thing I’ve ever heard anyone say to me.”
The energy between them was palpable.
She was caught in his gaze and couldn’t look away. Then someone drove past in a pickup truck with a muffler dragging. The noise was enough to break the moment.
They gathered themselves enough to get out, and by the time they got into the store, their focus had returned to the task at hand.
* * *
Junior Boone survived the surgery and was in the intensive care unit in a medically induced coma, hooked up to so many machines that for the moment the only thing he was doing on his own was breathing.
Emmitt and Tiny were holding hands, sitting side by side in the waiting room down the hall from the ICU. They weren’t talking, just watching the clock, waiting for the hour to roll around so when the next visiting time came they’d get to spend ten minutes at their son’s bedside, just for the gift of knowing he still lived.
* * *
Cora’s tests were inconclusive, so they had her admitted to the hospital for observation. While she had not suffered a heart attack, her doctor knew something was wrong and had ordered more testing for tomorrow. She didn’t argue. She had nowhere else to be.
Once Mel knew his mama was holding her own, he went home.
He didn’t know how their relationship was going to pan out, but he wasn’t ready to give up hope that she would one day forgive him. His biggest issue, however, was finding a way to forgive himself.
* * *
Judson Boone was in jail.
He had a couple of stitches in the top of his nose and a jaw too sore to open. There was no mistaking where he was going, and he wasn’t going to fight it.
The two people he’d loved most in this world were both in the hospital because of what he’d done, and Bowie James was still walking.