Yes, yes it was. No other way as far as he could see, not if he wanted to keep things nice and smooth in his life, which he did. Given that, he knew he needed to head things off before they went any further, even though the thought of leaving Snowglobe made his chest ache now that he’d be leaving Sara, as well.
Despite his decision, he couldn’t get rid of the nagging notion that he just didn’t feel right about leaving Sara and Mia alone and under the weather in a dark, cold house with no power.
Making a snap decision that belied his state of mind, he slowed down and made a careful U-turn in the snow-covered street and headed back to Sara’s house.
And sent a prayer up to God that his choice to leave Snowglobe early was the right one for everyone involved.
Chapter Eight
Sara’s eyes had about popped out of her head when Owen and Janey had shown back up last night. But her heart had warmed, too, to see him on her doorstep. He really was a thoughtful guy, and his coming all the way back for her meant a lot.
Now it was morning, and the power was still out. Owen had awakened early as he and Sara had planned, and he’d gone home to check on things there and shower with whatever hot water was left in his hot water tank. As decided, he left Janey with Sara and Mia.
Fortunately, Sara felt much better this morning. She still had a shadow of a headache, but the body aches and chills were gone. Time to get on with a normal day.
Mia and Janey seemed to be better, too, and after they ate a no-cook breakfast of cold cereal with bananas, they plopped themselves down in front of the fire to play with their toy ponies, which they’d named Caramel and Latte, after Mr. Ingerson’s draft horses.
Sara worked on loading the dishwasher, which she’d run as soon as the power came back on—whenever that would be. Owen had already told her that he and Jeff couldn’t work without electricity to run their tools, so the roof job would be put on hold. But given the progress they’d made, she was confident their work would be finished before Owen left town for Moonlight Cove. All the way out on the West Coast. Pacific Northwest to be exact. Pretty, she was sure. Still...they were leaving.
She stopped for a moment as she loaded the dishwasher, afraid she’d drop something, thinking about Owen and how he’d so lovingly and willingly taken over yesterday, and how he’d come back last night.
And how glad she’d been to see him, to know he cared about her enough to stay. Yes, it had felt wonderful to rely on someone else for a bit, to allow herself a break.
To relax.
She missed that feeling, missed having a backup. Truthfully, since she’d had Owen around, she realized how much she missed having a man in her life. Would it be so bad to allow herself to slide back into partner mode?
She took a deep breath and tried not to panic at the stunning course of her thoughts. She had to be honest with herself; she owed herself that, didn’t she?
Seeing Owen in action yesterday had simply capped off what she’d already known deep in her heart, though she’d been sidestepping the truth for days. He was a wonderful person, a splendid father and the epitome of everything she admired in a man—steadfast, loving, faithful and kind. Not to mention he was the most handsome man she’d ever run across, and the thought of kissing him again sent sparks through her.
With a gasp she sagged against the counter, then jumped back when water soaked the front of her shirt. She was a mess, in more ways than one!
Feeling shaky, she sat at the table, pressing a hand to her brow. She didn’t want him to leave; she wanted both him and Janey in her and Mia’s lives. But leaving had always been his plan. Would he change his mind for her? Or maybe they could do the long distance thing...? Surely there was some way to work this out. Because she couldn’t leave the B and B, not when she was just beginning to make a success of the place.
She’d be taking a big risk by asking him to stay. But maybe, just maybe, taking a leap of faith was the key to her and Mia’s future happiness.
The doorbell rang just then, and her heart started pounding. Owen was back, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to clue him in to what she had in mind. But it wasn’t like she had a lot of time to dink around the issue; they’d be gone from town in less than a week, and if she didn’t speak up now, they wouldn’t have any reason to stay.
And suddenly she wanted them to stick around with everything in her.
She took a deep breath and stood, steadying herself for just a moment with a hand on the kitchen table. Nothing worth having was easy to get.
Shoving her chin in the air to at least feel—and look—courageous, she headed out to the foyer to let Owen in. With trembling hands, she unlocked the door and opened it.
As expected, Owen stood on the other side, all decked out in cold weather gear since the skies had cleared some overnight, which had brought a temperature drop to well below freezing.
Feeling as if every single emotion inside of her was evident on her face, Sara forced her expression into what she hoped was a neutral mode and made herself look at Owen, as if she hadn’t just decided to spill about her feelings for him.
His broad shoulders drooped just a little, his eyes seemed less bright and his brow was distinctly furrowed. He seemed...sad? Upset? Maybe a little of both?
As she stepped aside to let him in, Sara frowned at his uncharacteristic demeanor. “You okay?”
He unzipped his parka. “Fine,” he said, though he said it in a way that didn’t seem fine at all.
Sara pushed the door closed, another layer of unease filtering through her, making her even more apprehensive to tell him about her feelings.
He hung his coat on the antique hall tree adjacent to the door, just as he did every time he arrived. The thought of their little routine ending made Sara’s chest ache. All the more reason she needed to level with him about what she wanted.
“It makes me sad to think that you won’t be working here anymore after you and Jeff finish.” Hopefully, though, they’d have a brand-new routine taking shape in their lives very soon. Or maybe not. But she had to open up, even if doing so didn’t change anything. He wasn’t a mind reader, right?
He turned and then looked at the floor as he slowly took his hat off. “Listen, we need to talk.”
Her chest hollowed out. “That sounds ominous.”
Avoiding her gaze, he said, “Let’s go sit down and talk in the kitchen.”
The bottom of her stomach dropped. Obviously there must be something really heavy on his mind. Something about them? It didn’t sound like he just had concerns about her roof or anything like that. Maybe she was being sensitive given her new feelings for him, but either way, she had a suspicion this conversation he wanted to have didn’t bode well for her. At all.
She cleared her throat. “Okay. I lit the burner on the stove with a match and made instant coffee. Not great, but I have a feeling we’re both going to need it.”
He pointed to the door. “I forgot something in my truck. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“All right.” As Owen disappeared out the door, she forced herself to be pragmatic about their upcoming conversation. What other choice did she have? She couldn’t exactly cover her ears and sing “The Star Spangled Banner” to drown out what he was going to lay on her. She had to deal with whatever Owen had on his mind.
Though she had a feeling she was going to wish she’d sung her heart out before he had the chance to yank it out with what he was about to tell her.
* * *
Owen entered the empty kitchen and immediately noticed two matching mugs on the counter, one for Sara and, presumably, one for him. His eyes went back and forth between the twin mugs, the significance of their presence not lost on him. Already he was part of Sara’s routine.
His belly tanked and sent tendrils of fire into his upper body. While on the one hand he li
ked that she was always thinking of him, on the other, her including him in her morning coffee ritual scared him.
He puffed out a large breath, then poured himself a big cup of java and resisted the urge to gulp the hot liquid down. No sense in having a burned throat to go along with the flaming lump of panic forming in his chest.
Finally, he took a tentative sip of coffee, reiterating to himself as he did so that he was doing the right thing by leaving town early and cutting off what was going on with him and Sara before their relationship went any deeper. Sara’s roof was almost done, and Jeff was going to finish up the one other job Owen had on his schedule.
John Ruppello had been thrilled to have Owen show up in Moonlight Cove a week early since they had a new client who wanted a rush job, so that end was covered. No reason to hang around, even for another week. He had the flight to Seattle booked for later tonight, and the property management company handling the details on the rental of his house was going to be putting up a For Rent sign later today. He had a call into the moving company to cover last-minute details.
Everything was ready.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. Now he had to tell Sara they were leaving.
Just as he was sitting down at the small table in the corner, she came through the door that led to the garage carrying a package of frozen chicken. She had furrow lines in her normally smooth forehead.
Undoubtedly she had an inkling of what was on the horizon, realizing that “we need to talk” usually didn’t promise hearts and Cupid’s arrows. Unfortunately, that notion held true now. Hearts and Cupid’s arrows just didn’t fit in with what he wanted. Or rather, with what he could allow.
Without a word, she set the chicken on the counter to thaw and then poured herself a cup of coffee. She took a sip, then stood with her hip propped against the counter. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
“Um...you want to sit down?” he said, gesturing to the chair opposite him.
She raised her chin and slanted him a glance. “I’ll stand.” Her voice held a distance that landed a gut-punch worthy of Joe Frazier.
He winced. She had her shields up. Not surprising, really, but pretty disconcerting just the same; having Sara act this distant was like eating glass. Guess that was a necessary casualty of the situation. Hopefully, he’d recover. Eventually. “Okay.” He took another sip of coffee. “So...um, I have some news.”
“Go on,” she said, nodding.
“Well...” He swallowed. “I’ve decided to leave town a bit earlier than originally planned.” Why did that sound so lame said out loud?
Her shoulders sagged just a teensy bit. “Why?”
He forced himself to say, “I’ve always planned on leaving Snowglobe.” He’d made that clear.
“No, why are you leaving early?” she asked in an overly even voice, as if she were forcing herself to stay level.
He opened his mouth to speak—to say something, anything. But what? More lameness? He rubbed the back of his neck.
She spoke before he could say anything. “You’re running away.”
He blinked. “Not really—”
“Yes, really.” She started to pace. “You’re scared to death of what’s happening with us, and this is your way of escaping the truth.”
“What truth is that?” he asked, his heart skipping a beat.
“That we’ve formed a connection over the last week,” she whispered.
His mouth went dry.
She continued on. “We kissed, Owen. And I want to do it again. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?”
Her statement sent happiness soaring through him for a moment. But he killed the giddiness and forced it to die an efficient death. A connection was a threat he had to avoid to keep his life on an even keel, within the parameters he’d set when Kristy died and his world had fallen apart. No matter what, no matter the possible reward.
“What it means is that we’re attracted to each other. I really like you, Sara. But I’m not ready to move beyond that. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.”
She closed her eyes for a moment and her lips quivered.
“Are you ready for more?” he asked before he could think better of the question, almost afraid to hear her answer. Thinking about walking away from her was one thing; actually doing it with her standing there looking so vulnerable, so achingly sad, was a whole ’nother kettle of fish. One that involved shoving aside what he wanted to do in the short run to protect the long run.
She paused for a significant moment, then her brow smoothed out and her shoulders straightened. “Yes.” She nodded. “Yes, I am.”
Surprise zinged through him like a shot, along with an unmistakable sense of pleasure he had no business feeling. “Really?”
She moved over next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Yes, Owen, really. I’ve realized in the last few days that I like having someone to lean on.” She gave him a look so full of hope he almost had to turn away. “That someone would be you.”
His heart seized.
She gave him a shaky smile. “I think we have something here, something special. I’m asking you to stay in Snowglobe. Stay with me and Mia, give us a chance.”
He sank back in his chair. Something akin to terror wound around his chest, cutting off his breath, forcing him to say, “Sara, I...I can’t.”
With a small sound of dismay, she sat down in the chair opposite him.
He pressed on, forcing himself to be honest with her. What other choice did he have? They were talking about their futures here; now was not the time to pull any punches. Or stuff the truth. He respected her too much to play games.
“This is what my gut is telling me to do and I don’t see any way around it.” He looked right at her. “Let me ask you this, to put things in perspective. Would you be willing to move to Moonlight Cove?”
She stilled, her jaw rigid. “I have a business here.”
“So the answer is no?”
She blinked several times but remained quiet.
“I can see the truth,” he said. “You want to avoid love as much as I do.”
Her jaw visibly tightened. “You realize, don’t you, what we might have here?”
Hopeless possibilities danced through his head: he and Sara and the girls as a family, Sara by his side forever, all the fabulous things a loving relationship entailed. A tempting picture for sure. But his gut level needs trumped the appealing picture. “Definitely. You’re a wonderful woman, Sara. In another place and time, you would be exactly the kind of person I’d be looking for.”
“Well, that makes me feel better,” she said with a quick twist of her lips.
He cringed inwardly. He was making a mess of this. “Maybe that came out wrong.” He rubbed his cheek. “What I mean is that my leaving isn’t about you. It’s about me and what I want in my life.”
“Which is?”
“To not get hurt again by losing someone.”
“You mean you want control.”
He canted his head to the side. “I guess so.”
“You think I don’t want control?” She laughed without humor. “I know it’s scary to put your heart on the line, to let your emotions rule your head. But don’t you think the ultimate reward is worth it? Don’t you think trusting in God’s plan is the right thing to do?”
“Maybe for some people. But not for me. I can’t let myself lose someone I love again. I just can’t, and I have to stop things now before the risk of pain is too great. Maybe that instinct is a sign that what I’m doing is God’s plan for me.”
“But you’re losing me now,” she said softly, taking his hand. “Doesn’t that count?”
As his heart jerked in his chest, he stared at their two hands twined together. Those agonizing possibilities taunted him. “Of course it does,�
� he said. “But I can control this loss before my life takes a turn I can’t control.”
“So as long as you consciously choose it, loss is okay?”
He thought about that concept for a moment. Sounded crazy. But true. “Yes, because I get to choose rather than having something decided for me.”
She let go of his hand, and he felt the loss of her touch clear to the soles of his work boots.
Going on, she said, “Has it ever occurred to you that by letting that happen, you’re in truth relinquishing any power you ever had over your life in the first place? Any faith that God’s plan is the right one?”
His jaw sagged as the truth in her words rammed into him. “You’re right.”
“I sense a but here,” she said.
“But, your reasoning, while sound, doesn’t make a difference for me. I have to be comfortable with the risks I take with my life, at what I let God handle for me.”
“And I’m not one of the comfortable risks, right?” she asked, her voice coated in what distinctly sounded like hurt.
“I’m sorry,” he said with all the honesty he could muster. “I have to do this.” It wouldn’t be fair to give either himself or Sara false hope.
She stood. “I think you’re making a big mistake,” she said.
Worry shot through him. “You might be right about that, and I might look back on this decision and regret it. But hindsight is twenty-twenty, and I don’t have that right now. I can only go with my gut here and do what I think is best for me. And right now, going to Moonlight Cove is what I have to do.” Now, more than ever, he needed a fresh start, away from the painful memories that seemed to permeate his life in Snowglobe.
She blinked quickly several times and then took a deep breath. After a moment where she seemed to be steadying herself—and her emotions—she turned away.
He almost called out, but he bit the words off.
She turned to him, concern etched into her lovely features. “What are we going to tell the girls?”
Figured she’d be thinking of Janey and Mia; she always had their best interests at heart.
A Snowglobe Christmas Page 17
