“The truth, I guess,” he said. “Janey knows we’re moving.”
“I’m worried they’re going to be upset,” Sara replied, chewing on her lower lip. “They’ve really bonded.”
The girls had become inseparable over the past week, and it was hard for him to sever that connection. “As long as you and I are there for them, they’ll be fine.”
Owen belatedly flinched; the words you and I held a hollow echo of what could have been in another life with another set of circumstances.
“I hope so,” Sara replied, frowning. “I’m sure Mia is going to be wondering where Janey is in the morning.”
What could he say to that? She was right. “I’m sorry this is the way it has to be.”
He swallowed past the burning lump in his throat. “And please know that Jeff will be here to finish the roof as soon as the power goes back on.”
“Okay.” Sara paused, then pressed her lips together. “If you ever need anything, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to call. No matter what happens, I will always care about you and Janey, more than you’ll ever know.”
And then, with a terse nod, Sara turned and left the kitchen, nothing but the clicking of her heels on the hardwood floors echoing in her wake.
Owen sat there, alone, once again thinking what a truly extraordinary person Sara was, and that she obviously possessed a true and gracious heart. Pretty amazing.
Regret and grief for his loss pounced on him in a stranglehold, sending searing pain into his chest. He pressed a hand to the aching place over his heart, hoping and praying his sorrow and regret was short-lived and manageable and that he hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of his life.
Chapter Nine
From the porch, Sara watched Owen and Janey drive off as the snow silently fell to the ground in a blanket of white shadowed with gray. The truck’s taillights faded into the fuzzy distance as he turned the corner a block away and disappeared from view. Forever.
Why was this scenario such a pattern in her life? Why did she always seem to be watching men she loved walk away?
Tears formed in her eyes and her throat burned. Saying goodbye to Owen and Janey without completely breaking down had been the hardest thing Sara had ever done. But she’d kept a concrete upper and lower lip for the girls’ sake, and for Owen, too. He’d made his decision, and he was entitled to that choice without having to deal with any kind of emotional reaction on her part. Just as she was entitled to her own choice. And she chose...to stay here.
Even if her heart was crumbling, leaving a gaping hole in her chest. Even if she thought he was blinded to a bright future by the traumatic loss he’d suffered in the past, that he wasn’t trusting in God’s plan. But what choice did she have but to honor Owen’s decision?
Maybe it was better this way; life would go on, and her heart would stay safe. Small comfort. Minuscule, actually, but it was all she had to keep herself from breaking down completely.
Sara plodded through the rest of the morning and afternoon, determined to keep her pain at bay with busy work that could be done without electricity. Mia faded late in the afternoon and conked out on the couch while Sara read her a My Little Pony story by the window in the parlor.
Weary and heartsick and mentally spent, Sara laid down next to her little girl, pulled a blanket over the both of them and closed her eyes. Within moments, the blessed oblivion of sleep claimed her.
Sara awoke with a start after dreaming of a wedding starring her as the bride, Mia and Janey as twin flower girls and a certain blue-eyed man as the groom waiting for her at the end of the church aisle as Jesus looked down from the cross behind the altar.
She sat up, careful not to disturb Mia, sad to realize the wedding was just a dream and nowhere near the reality Owen had slammed home a few hours earlier.
Pushing her hair out of her eyes, Sara sat for a moment, her heart aching, gearing up to get on with her day. Owen was gone, but life went on. She supposed.
As she stood, she turned on the flashlight she’d set on the coffee table, sweeping its beam up. Instantly, her gaze snagged on a gift tucked under the tree. Odd. She hadn’t put the present there; in fact, she was monstrously behind on Christmas stuff and hadn’t wrapped one gift yet. Curious, she went over and picked the gaily wrapped box up, noting it was heavy for its size.
There was a card tucked under the pretty red bow on the top of the box. She pulled the card out and shined the flashlight on it, noting her name on the front in a masculine scrawl she recognized as Owen’s handwriting. He must have sneaked the present in earlier.
Heart pounding, she opened the envelope and pulled out the Christmas card with a hand-drawn picture on the front depicting Christ’s birth in a manger as a brilliant star shone down from above.
With shaking hands, she opened the card.
Your mom would be proud of the mother you’ve become. Thank you for taking such good care of Janey. I’m sure she will never forget you.
Owen.
As her eyes burned, Sara set the card down and tore the red-and-green plaid paper off the gift, then opened the brown box inside and carefully pulled out several globs of crumpled tissue paper. She gasped. There, nestled down in more tissue paper and bubble wrap, lay the horse snowglobe like her mom’s which Sara had pointed out to Owen the day they’d gone to The Snowglobe Gift Shoppe.
As tears fell to her cheeks, she gingerly turned the globe upside down and then righted it. Carefully she reached underneath and twisted the small metal winder a few times to make the music play.
Strains of “The Impossible Dream” lilted out as the horse danced, its mane seeming to fly in and out among the snowflakes as its hooves carried it through the drifts of snow. The words to the song wound their way through her head, resonating within her—to fight, to love, to try, to reach—and suddenly she came to a stunning realization. She hadn’t done any of those things when Owen had left today. None. Of. Them.
Oh, sure, she’d made a feeble effort to change his mind. But basically she’d rolled over and accepted his decision, for his and the girls’ sakes she’d told herself. And she hadn’t had the courage or strength to tell him she’d go wherever to be with him.
But she saw now that she’d really capitulated and let him walk out because it was the safe route, the one that wouldn’t threaten her or force her to look her fears in the eye and kick them to the curb in the interest of her, and Owen’s, lifelong happiness. Because she’d been hurt so very badly before.
She herself hadn’t trusted in God’s plan, either. Not enough to tell Owen she’d find a way to go to Moonlight Cove at the very least.
And suddenly she understood that happiness was there, right in front of her, for the taking. If she had the courage to dream the impossible dream.
She took a deep, shaky breath and set the snowglobe on the coffee table in front of her, watching as the snow settled. The horse was still running as the music died out, it’s mane flying, it’s delicate chin set at a stubborn angle as it looked forward, ready to go the distance, no matter what.
She raised her own chin. She needed to keep running, keep going after what would make her happy. She could not hide from the truth any longer.
She loved Owen, desperately so, and she was willing to own the emotion fully. And that meant she had to fight for their love with all she had, needed to tell him how she’d felt and that she would follow him anywhere. She’d go down swinging.
A quick glance at her watch told her it was just past seven. He hadn’t told her when his flight left this evening. Could she catch him before he left town? She went for her cell phone and with trembling fingers brought up his number and pressed Dial, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t be too late.
Just then, the power whirred back to life. Sara paused, looking around. The Christmas tree glowed anew with twinkling light
s and the matching Tiffany lamps on the tables at each end of the couch lit the room with soft, multicolored hues.
Just as Owen had lit up her life.
And as her trust in God had illuminated her path.
She smiled, at peace with her decision. Yes. Having faith in the Lord’s plan would be a blessing worth any risk.
* * *
Owen white-knuckled his truck’s steering wheel as the falling snow swirled against the windshield and beyond, making visibility on the way to the Kalispell airport tricky. He’d switched into four-wheel drive a block from his house, but the truck still fishtailed periodically on the snow and ice building up on the roadway.
He’d sold the truck to Jeff and planned on buying a new one in Moonlight Cove. Jeff hadn’t been able to take him to the airport tonight, so they’d agreed that Owen would leave the truck at the airport and Jeff would get it tomorrow when he picked up his in-laws who were flying in for the holidays.
Owen had hurriedly packed suitcases, leaving the rest for a moving company he’d hired. He then called the airline before he and Janey had left home just fifteen minutes ago, and his flight was still scheduled to depart on time. He was determined to be on the plane and away from Snowglobe by morning. A new life awaited him and Janey in Moonlight Cove, one without buckets of snow and frigid temperatures all winter long.
And without Sara.
He set his jaw, fighting the urge to turn the truck around. Once again, she’d impressed him to no end today. She’d kept it together when he and Janey had left Sara’s house earlier, though he’d been able to tell from the tightness of her lips that she was struggling with his decision.
He was, too. It had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, walking away from her when he knew she wanted him to stay. But he had a path laid out, one that would keep his heart unscathed and his world in control.
He wished he could have seen her face when she opened the horse snowglobe. Had her eyes lit up with happiness as a brilliant smile graced her face? He’d meant every word he’d written in the note he’d left; he and Janey would never forget Sara.
With a renewed grip on the steering wheel he corrected the path of the truck slightly as it slipped sideways a bit. As he straightened the wheels and maintained good lane position away from the deep ditch on the side of the road, he told himself for the hundredth time that stepping off that path into the unknown was beyond him.
Wasn’t it?
He looked off into the snow swirled darkness spreading out before him, noting the Christmas lights on the houses in the distance. People were tucked in tight in those houses, enjoying the holiday with loved ones. And he was...alone in this bleak, freezing night, on his way to a life in a place where he knew no one.
For a split second he cast his gaze to the backseat where Janey slept in her car seat. He loved his daughter with everything in him. Would protect her with his life, and would treasure every moment with her, no matter where they put down roots. But would that be enough, forever?
Would it?
That question reverberated in his brain, peppering him with nagging doubts, and he let out a heavy breath just as his cell phone rang from the front passenger seat. He glanced quickly but couldn’t see the caller ID and decided to stay as safe as possible and not answer. If it was important, the caller would leave a message.
He shifted his gaze back to the road and immediately saw a panel truck in the oncoming lane sliding straight at them on the ice-slicked street. His gut bunched, spiking adrenaline into his system, and he instinctively jerked the wheel to the right. He overcorrected and braked too hard, and as the ice on the road took over, his rig lost traction, despite the anti-lock brakes clicking under his foot, and started a sideways slide of its own, out of the oncoming path of the other vehicle by a seeming hairsbreadth.
His heart thundering, Owen urged the steering wheel left to get his truck back on course and eased back on the brake a bit, but the action was useless against the slippery ice and snow on the road.
The truck slid and slid and slid, making a full three-sixty. Janey cried out, “Daddy!” and Owen could do nothing but hang on with a death grip, his eyes wide and his breath frozen in his lungs as the snow-covered scenery drifted by in seeming slow motion like a road-trip movie gone bad.
No control. No power. Nothing...
As his two-ton truck hurtled toward the ice-crusted ditch, spinning like a child’s top across the frozen ground, he let up on the brake completely to unlock the wheels, and a silent prayer rose in his mind.
God, I give myself up to You...take control!
Another terror-filled second clicked by, and the wide ditch loomed wide in front of the truck’s nose. With a clunk and a whoosh the vehicle went over the edge, careened down into the depression, and then came to a bone-crunching stop as the front fender rammed into the far side of the ditch.
With a devastatingly quick blast, the air bag deployed, and he felt as if he’d been hit by a brick wall. A nasty smell filled his throbbing nose, making him gag, and when he opened his eyes, what looked like white fog and dust surrounded him.
Was the truck on fire?
“Janey!” he shouted, twisting around as best he could. More dust filled the air, but he could see that Janey appeared unharmed, even though her eyes were round with fright.
“Daddy!” she cried, holding her arms out.
He tried to reach for her, but his seat belt restrained him, and besides, the airbag was in the way.
Panicked, he unhooked his seat belt and fumbled for the door handle. “I’m coming, sweetie. One second...” Wait, the truck was still in Drive...with shaking hands he tried to put it in Park, but it was stuck. Oh, yeah, the brake.
Finally, he found the brake and shifted into Park, realizing as he did so that the white dust was from the air bags. No fire...good.
He had to get to Janey. He swiped at the door handle, holding his breath against the smell, and managed to get the door cracked open.
Panting, he pushed at the door, but the truck had ended up on the upper side of the ditch on a sharp angle, so the door didn’t want to stay open. With a burst of adrenaline that made his face pound, he muscled it open and crawled out as smokelike fumes followed him into the freezing night air.
Snow pelted his face, stinging as it landed on his throbbing cheek, but he ignored the pain and focused on getting to Janey. He grabbed the crew cab door handle and yanked, praying it would open.
Thankfully, it gave way. Straining with its weight, he muscled some more and wedged his body between the door and the frame of the truck.
“Janey, are you all right?” he said, trying to stay calm. Pushing farther in, he hefted himself up and knelt on the truck seat, keeping the door open with his booted feet, then reached out and grabbed her mitten-clad hands.
She looked at him, pale-faced. “What happened, Daddy?”
He fumbled for the hook on her car seat; though it was bitterly cold outside, the smell from the airbag was too noxious to stay put. “We slid into the ditch.”
“I scared, Daddy,” she said in a trembling voice.
“Me, too, sweet pea, but everything is okay.” He got the latch undone and lifted the Y restraint over her head. “I’m going to get you out of here and call a tow truck, okay?”
She patted his arm. “Okay. You call Sara, too?”
He paused, his jaw slack, then hefted her up slightly. “Um...you think I should call Sara?”
“’Course. She always makes us better. Right?”
The conviction and truth in his daughter’s words landed on him with the force of an anvil. Sara did always make things better. Perfect, actually. “Right,” he managed to shove out.
Determined to focus on the situation at hand, he scooched back. “Can you climb out of your seat and come over here so I can lift you out of the t
ruck?”
“Uh-huh.” She pushed herself up and out—
A knock on the crew cab window almost stopped his heart. He whipped around and saw an older man wearing a baseball hat peering into the window, his face illuminated by the flashlight he held. The panel truck driver? Or another random motorist?
“You guys okay?” he hollered.
“Fine,” Owen replied. “I need to get her out of here and then call a tow.”
The man shined the flashlight into Owen’s face. “Is that you, Owen?”
Owen blinked.
“It’s me, Josiah Elfridge. You repaired my garage roof last winter.”
Relief washed over Owen when he recognized Josiah. “Yeah, it’s me, and my daughter, Janey.”
“Thought I recognized you.” Josiah peered closer. “Your face looks like it took a beating. I think I should call 911.”
Owen reached up and pressed a hand to his throbbing nose. Zowie, that hurt. Could be broken. Hopefully just bruised. But his brain was fuzzy from the walloping the air bag had delivered, and it would be stupid not to be cautious when he had Janey to take care of. “Yeah, okay. But first, if you’ll hold the door open a bit wider, I’ll get her out.”
Josiah obliged, and soon Owen was standing on the side of the road with Janey in his arms. His nose thudded in time with his heartbeat, and he felt a bit dizzy. The wind whipped snow around, pelting them, and Janey buried her head in his neck.
Josiah gestured to the panel truck slanted at an angle on the shoulder of the road about a hundred feet away. “Why don’t you two come and sit in my truck while I call 911,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the wind. “I’d take you to the hospital myself, but these roads are treacherous right now, and I’m afraid we might not make it. We were both slip-sliding around here.”
“I agree,” Owen replied. “I was on my way to the airport.”
Josiah motioned him in the direction from which Owen had come. “Guess you won’t be making that flight, will you?”
A Snowglobe Christmas Page 18
