Firefly Hollow

by Haddix, T. L.

  The water was deeper than it looked, she thought as she dipped under the surface. Then the icy temperature of the deeper water grabbed her, and she broke the surface of the pool with a shrieking laugh.

  “Oh, dear God, that’s cold!” Teeth chattering, she swam to the other side, where the water was shallower and warmer. After a couple of minutes, her body adjusted to the temperature, and she floated on her back, watching the clouds drift by above her.

  The water was too cold to stay in for very long, and thoroughly chilled, but grinning from ear to ear, she pulled herself out to sit on the ledge beside the pool. Her hands stiff, she gathered her clothes and scurried back to the top of the boulder for the warmth of the sun-warmed granite and her blanket. There was still no sign of the deer, and as Sarah wrapped the quilt around herself, she let out a slow breath. She hadn’t known she had it in herself to skinny dip. She started giggling, and before long, the giggles became full-blown laughter. The sound echoed around the pool before vanishing into the trees.

  Stretching her legs out in the sun, Sarah realized that finally taking the plunge, literally, had brought her a sort of closure. She would still miss the place, would probably cry for it in the months to come, but swimming in the pool had been a graduation of sorts. A transition, she thought, from childhood into adulthood.

  Chapter Six

  WHEN HE REALIZED SARAH WAS serious about getting in the pool, Owen knew he was in trouble. As soon as she started taking off her clothes, he backed away from the edge of the boulder. He couldn’t spy on her. It was one thing to be with her in his deer form while she was relaxing, but another completely to be with her in intimate circumstances. He headed up the hill, away from the pool and the temptation she presented.

  Owen had kept an eye out for her once he realized she was returning to the pool regularly. He never showed himself to her again in either form until today, but if she visited while he was near the pool, he never left until she did. He knew the lure the pool presented, especially to someone so young, and he couldn’t leave if it meant her being unprotected. He also made sure to follow her home whenever he encountered her. Though she had become more cautious after he’d saved her, he wasn’t willing to risk her life again if he could help it.

  Given that he respected Ira Browning, he’d decided to take a wait-and-see approach, see if she was visiting the pool to cause trouble or to seek solace, as he did. Within a short time, Owen became certain that Sarah was there to gain peace, and he’d let her stay. He’d reconsidered that decision after the snake, but something held him back from revealing her trespassing to Ira.

  She presented a danger he hadn’t anticipated. He’d been intrigued by her from the first, but only because she was the most restful human he’d ever seen. She emitted an aura of calm, and he felt refreshed and energized in her presence. Not only that, she seemed to love books and reading as much as he did, another quality he hadn’t found much of in the people around him. But he’d never seen her as a woman until today. Owen knew she was five years younger than his own twenty-two. She was old enough to marry, to have children. She was old enough that Owen couldn’t put her in a safe box in his mind anymore.

  Even with the temptation Sarah presented, Owen only went as far up the hill as he needed to go to ensure her privacy. He was still close enough to hear if she needed help. As he listened to her splash, he closed his eyes. It was a good thing that she was leaving for college. If she hadn’t been, he would have had to do something about her visits. He couldn’t risk her regularly swimming naked in his pool.

  Though it seemed like hours, she didn’t stay in the pool long. He heard her gather her clothing and start up the path, and instinctively, he turned. If he had been in human form, the sight of her bare skin would have caused him to draw in a deep breath. He only caught a quick glance, but a shockingly erotic one. Having seen enough to know that she was okay, Owen ran up the hill. If he didn’t put some distance between them, and fast, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk away.

  Yes, he thought, as he let himself change back into human form, it was a very good thing she was leaving to go away to college. Otherwise, he might be tempted to introduce himself to her as Owen Campbell, instead of a curious and friendly young deer, and that was something he absolutely could not do.

  Chapter Seven

  November 1959…

  THE DRIVE BACK TO PERRY County was one of the longest, most painful rides of Sarah’s life. When her mother had called the college the night before, Sarah hadn’t wanted to face the truth. Her father was dying. Sarah had been dodging that harsh reality for several months.

  Knowing that she wouldn’t be returning to school, Sarah had packed up all her belongings and loaded them into her old car. Remembering the day Ira had given her the keys brought tears to her eyes.

  “You’ll need a good car to get you back and forth from school. This one has some miles on it, but it still has many more in it. By the time she rolls her last mile, you’ll be able to buy yourself a new one.”

  The gesture had stunned Sarah. Her parents weren’t wealthy, so their generosity touched her deeply. Driving home in the car her father had lovingly picked out for her, hoping that she would be in time to say goodbye, Sarah wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. Her grief and guilt were so heavy, she felt like an old woman.

  When the homestead finally appeared around the bend in the road, the tears that sprang up nearly choked her. She parked beside the house and sat in the car, watching smoke curl out of the chimney. It drifted down low, climbing up the road that wound deeper into the holler and fading into the winter gloom. The two-story farmhouse was a welcome sight with its wide front porch and black shutters. The wind gusted around the car, its icy fingers creeping in to curl around Sarah’s ankles and legs. Swallowing hard, she grabbed her purse and opened the door.

  Her mother came out on the porch as Sarah was ascending the steps. Eliza looked older, worn, and tired. For a drawn-out moment, they looked at each other, and then they embraced.

  “Oh, Mama. Is he…?”

  Eliza pulled back. “He’s resting. It’ll be time to wake him up soon for his pain medicine. Come on inside.” She pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders as she opened the screen door. “We’ll freeze near to death if we stand out here much longer.”

  Sarah followed her mother into the living room, where her sister was watching over Moira, who was playing with her dolls on the floor. Kathy didn’t speak, just nodded coolly in Sarah’s direction.

  “Kathy. Hi, Moira.” Sarah kept her voice low, not wanting to wake her father, whose hospital bed was in the dining room.

  “Hi, Aunt Tharah,” Moira lisped. “I lotht my two front teeth, thee?” The little girl stuck her tongue out through the gap where the teeth had been, and Sarah smiled.

  “I see that.”

  Eliza took Sarah’s purse and coat, and grasping her hand, urged her toward the dining room. “You need to prepare yourself before he wakes up. It’ll be easier for you both that way.”

  From the couch came a quiet snort. “The rest of us have been preparing for this for months, Mama. Sure must be nice not to have had to worry about cleaning up messes and keeping vigil over a sick bed. But I guess I ain’t thinking straight. School’s more important than family, I hear.”

  “Kathleen, that’s enough,” Eliza said. “I warned you about taking an attitude.”

  With a seething glare in Sarah’s direction, Kathy stood. Sarah saw that her sister was pregnant again. “If you’ll excuse me, I need some air. Moira, stay right here.”

  “Yeth, Mommy,” Moira said, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents in the room.

  Kathy grabbed a coat from the rack and stalked out the door. Sarah winced, prepared for the slam, but at the last minute, Kathy closed it gently, instead.

  Cheeks hot, Sarah turned to her mother. “I’m so
rry, Mama. She’s right. I should have come home before now.”

  “One of the only things that has given your daddy comfort these last few months is knowing that you were in school. Don’t you dare apologize. You’ve not been here, but you’ve been helping him in a way the rest of us couldn’t.” With one last squeeze of Sarah’s hand, Eliza gently pushed her into the dining room. “Go on now. I’ll be in the kitchen, getting things ready for lunch.”

  With a deep breath, Sarah pulled back the curtain that had been hung to give her father some privacy and stepped into the dining room. Though it had only been a couple of months since she had seen him, the cancer had been busy. Gone was the strong man who loved to dance across the yard with Eliza and wrestle with his children, laughing as the three of them combined couldn’t bring him down, even when they were teenagers. The patient man who’d endured Sarah’s learning how to drive, the man who’d held her when she was scared, was no more. Cancer had reduced her father to a sunken hull of a human being. His skin was nearly translucent, the veins showing through the backs of his hands and eyelids, with dark bags under his sunken eyes. If he weighed a hundred pounds, she’d be surprised.

  “Oh, Daddy.” Easing down onto the chair beside the bed, she looked at him, trying to reconcile her memories with the reality in front of her. The task was impossible, she finally decided. There were two versions of her father: before the cancer and after. Try as she might, she couldn’t understand how a just and loving God would let such a terrible thing happen to a man as good as her father.

  Her mother joined her in the vigil after an hour, and her father woke up soon afterward. He had a few lucid hours, a gift for which Sarah would be forever grateful.

  Later that night, Ira Browning closed his eyes for the last time.

  The day of the funeral dawned bright, with sunlight sparkling off the light snow that had fallen the day after Sarah’s father died. Ira was laid to rest in the family cemetery, alongside his father and mother, and near two of his siblings who had died before reaching adulthood. The family went back home for the wake, and once again, the house was full of people.

  “You keep a close eye on your mother,” Sarah’s aunt Nancy cautioned as they washed dishes. “She’s held it together this long, but she’s liable to break down tonight, now that all the hoopla is done with.”

  “I know. I just don’t know what to do. How do I help her?”

  Nancy laid down the dishtowel. “You be there for her. I know when I lost my Sam, I didn’t want to hear people tell me they understood, or that they knew what I was going through when they good and well didn’t. I wanted them to let me grieve, let me talk about it, or leave me the hell alone. I don’t know how your mother’s going to react, but just be there for her. No offense to Kathy, but she’s as useless in an emergency as teats on a boar hog.”

  Weary from stress, the words struck Sarah’s funny bone. She had to pinch her lips together to keep from laughing. “You know Kathy’s been helpful to Mama the whole time Daddy was sick.”

  Nancy sighed. “I know. And to give the poor thing credit where it’s due, she didn’t do a half-bad job. But for what comes next? Eliza needs you. Not Kathy.”

  “How did you handle it? After everyone had gone, how did you get through the loss?” Nancy’s first husband had been killed in a mine collapse. Though she’d remarried a few years ago and moved to Georgia, Sarah knew her aunt was still haunted.

  Nancy looked out the window and across the valley. “I had two young children to take care of at the time. They kept me sane. And then I met Roy, and he saved us all.”

  Sarah gave Nancy a one-armed hug, glad to have her mother’s sister there to help things along.

  When the dishes were finished, Sarah went out onto the front porch, where some of the men had gathered. Jack stood off to one side, not saying much, but just watching. Sarah walked over to him and leaned against the porch railing. Eyes closed, she let the rhythm and cadence of the voices wash over her. Even though she’d only gone as far as Berea for college, speech was more cultured, more proper, there. She hadn’t realized how much she missed hearing the familiar drawls and twangs until she heard them again.

  Jack nudged her shoulder. “Don’t go to sleep on your feet.”

  Sarah opened her eyes and shot him a look. “I’m not. I’m just… taking it all in, I suppose. Have you had time to talk to Gilly yet today?”

  Her brother’s cheeks pinkened, and he looked down at his feet. “Not yet. I don’t know what to say to her.”

  “‘Hello’ and ‘I’ve missed you’ would probably be a good place to start. She said you’ve not been writing her like you used to.”

  Jack straightened away from the railing. “I’m going for a walk. Come with me?”

  “Let me get my coat.”

  They headed up the road, going further into the head of the holler. The afternoon was quiet and peaceful, and the sun had stayed out long enough to make the temperature almost bearable.

  “What’s on your mind, Jack?” Sarah asked as they came to the swinging bridge that went across the creek to the houses on the other face of the mountain.

  He played with a winter-dead vine that clung to one of the support ropes of the bridge. “I want to ask her to marry me.”

  Sarah was relieved and pleased. She gave a genuine, delighted smile for the first time in days. “Oh, Jack—”

  He held up his hand. “No, it’s not that simple. I want to ask her, but I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do, not for me and not for Gilly.” He looked down at the water moving across the rocks in the creek. “I won’t be out of the Army for another year, maybe two. And if we end up going to war, like they’re saying we might, I can’t ask her to wait for me, Sarah. It isn’t fair.”

  “Is it that you don’t want to ask her to wait, or that you don’t want to wait for her?”

  Jack raised tormented eyes to hers. “I’d wait until forever for her.”

  Tears flooded Sarah’s eyes, and Jack handed her a handkerchief. “Thanks,” she mumbled. When she’d regained her composure, she cleared her throat and tried to figure out what to say. “What if Gilly was the one asking you to wait? Wouldn’t you want to know how she felt?”

  Jack closed his eyes and leaned against the support post. He nodded.

  “Well, then, I think you have your answer. And just in time, too. Here she comes.”

  Jack turned to look over his shoulder back down the road in the direction of the homestead. Sure enough, Gilly was headed their direction, a pensive, uncertain frown on her face.

  “I think I’m going to head back into the house,” Sarah said as Gilly reached them. “You two need to talk.” She gave Gilly a brief hug and touched Jack’s shoulder before leaving. She said a prayer for them the whole way.

  Even though she was exhausted and had gotten ready for bed early, Sarah found she couldn’t sleep. At ten thirty, she went back downstairs to the kitchen. To her surprise, her mother was seated at the table. In her nightgown and robe, hair down around her shoulders, Eliza looked incredibly vulnerable.

  “Hey, Mama.” She gave Eliza a soft squeeze, then went to the sink with the teakettle.

  “You can’t sleep, either, I take it?” Her mother had her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee, but she wasn’t drinking it.

  Sarah shook her head. “Not even close.”

  After putting the water on the stove to heat, Sarah pulled out the chair next to her mother’s and sat. She held her silence, waiting for her mother to make the first move.

  “I can’t bring myself to go into our bedroom for more than five minutes,” Eliza confessed in a low voice. “Even though he hadn’t slept in there for the last couple of months, he was still here. I could walk out to the dining room and touch him, see him. If I go back in that room, I’ll have to face that he’s gone.”
>
  Sarah reached out and covered her mother’s hand with her own. Eliza grasped her fingers tightly and held on.

  “Did you talk to Nancy about it? About going back in there after…”

  “I did.” Eliza sighed. “And she told me to not let myself have even one night to think about it, because if I did, I would never go back in there. Damn it.”

  “Do you think she’s right?”

  “Yes. The thing is, I don’t know if I want to go back in there, Sarah. Not without your father.” Eliza pulled away and sat back. “I’ve thought about offering the room to your sister and Randall. It’s bigger. They could use the room, and maybe if they’re down here, the people upstairs can get some sleep every now and then.” She pursed her lips at Sarah, and then they were snickering. Before long, the snickers turned into full-blown laughter.

  “For shame, Mama. Surely they aren’t still going at it like they used to,” she managed to say between spurts of giggles.

  Eliza wiped her eyes. “Oh, they’re not quite up to the same level they were when they first got married, but it’s still often enough that I’m counting the days until they can move out again. Their rental house should be ready sometime next week.”