A warm front had come through, the first real warm spell of spring. Snow still lay on the ground in patches and on the shadowy sides of the mountains, but it was nearly nice enough to be out of doors without a coat. Sarah planned on taking full advantage of the weather and already had her book bag packed in preparation for going to the pool. She hoped to have a couple of hours of daylight before the sun started going down.
At home, she hurried to change clothes. With a quick kiss for her mother, she left the house, humming off-key as she walked. She was so intent on reaching the pool, she didn’t realize until she was almost upon it that someone else was there, and she came to a stumbling halt. Her eyes felt as if they’d grown to the size of saucers, but she couldn’t help it. There, across the pool, hair damp, shrugging into a T-shirt after obviously having just gotten out of the water, stood Owen Campbell.
Chapter Eleven
OWEN HEARD HER COMING AND considered running. Instead, he decided to stand his ground. Luckily, he’d gotten out of the pool minutes earlier, or Sarah would have caught him in the altogether. She came up the bench that connected to the ledge on the other side of the pool just as he was tugging on his T-shirt.
Her eyes widened, then a fiery blush raced up her face into her cheeks. “I’m so sorry!” She turned her back on him so quickly she nearly fell. “I didn’t realize… I’m sorry.”
As he hadn’t yet put on his socks and boots, he yanked his pant legs up and walked across the rocky bridge that formed the front lip of the pool. Sarah kept glancing over her shoulder at him. He stepped out of the pool and moved to stand behind her, an arm’s length away. He waited for her to turn back around.
When she did, she apologized yet again. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. Aren’t you freezing?”
Owen had to struggle to keep his face stern, especially with her seeming so horrified. Her gaze flitted around the clearing, dancing from his shoulders and chest to the trees, and back. She was obviously uncomfortable, and with only a twinge of conscience, Owen did nothing to dispel her uneasiness. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his gaze slightly, which he knew made him look even more menacing.
“You do realize that this is Campbell land, Ms. Browning?” He kept his voice low and tried to ignore the smell of her perfume.
She swallowed nervously, but didn’t run. “I know.” Her chest moved under the light sweater she wore as she drew in a deep breath, and she finally met his eyes.
Owen felt as though he’d been punched. Her eyes were a stunning, deep cornflower blue, framed by thick, dark lashes. Though he’d been close to her before, something about the way the sun highlighted her face left him stunned. As she bravely stood almost toe-to-toe with him, staring him down, he felt like she could see into his soul.
“I’m aware that you’ve been coming here for some time,” he said. “It’s never been an inconvenience. But now, I think it would be best if you stayed on your side of the property line.”
The flush in her cheeks faded somewhat, and Owen ignored the guilt that pricked him. She blinked several times, looking beyond him at the pool as though the words hadn’t made sense. Then, as he watched, all the fire went out of her.
“I understand. I’m sorry. I won’t come here again.” With a quick glance at his face, she turned and went back the way she’d come. There was no longer a spring in her step, no humming a jaunty tune.
Long after she’d disappeared, Owen stood staring after her, much as he had the first time she’d been to the pool. He had to struggle not to run after her and apologize. With a long, frustrated growl, he turned to finish getting dressed.
When he’d had gone into the library weeks earlier and discovered Sarah working there, it had been like a slap in the face. She seemed to be everywhere he turned, and every time he saw her, she was even more appealing. He’d tried to ignore her in town and would have avoided the library altogether if he could have, but he needed to go there at least once a week, to smell the books, feel their bindings. Plus, he was working on a project, and he couldn’t afford to let his feelings for Sarah get in the way of completing it.
As he trudged up the mountain to his house, he felt a bone-weary tiredness steal over him. He hated himself for what he’d done, but he couldn’t risk Sarah finding out his secrets. He couldn’t risk letting her close.
“Maybe it’s time for a visit to Eli and his family down in London,” Owen mused as he reached the house. “Give us both some distance, let her get used to not coming to the pool. And let me reconcile myself to seeing her at the library.”
The more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded. He headed into the house to pack.
Chapter Twelve
SARAH WAS SO MISERABLE AND embarrassed that she didn’t even remember the walk back across the property line. All she could think about was how cold and forbidding Owen had looked. If Callie could have seen his eyes when he looked at Sarah, the girl wouldn’t have considered them remotely close to dreamy.
When she reached the craggy outcropping of rocks that had been her hiding spot before her discovery of the pool, she barely hesitated. She felt too exposed to stop there, knowing that Owen had been aware of her trespassing. Worse yet, she knew she had to tell her mother what she’d done. The last thing she wanted was for word to get back to Eliza from someone else.
Though people on the outside liked to make fun of “hillbillies,” as the people of Appalachia were nicknamed, Sarah had always treasured her culture, which included a deep and abiding respect for the privacy and property of other people. Sure, Hazard was a small town, and like any small town across the nation, it thrived on gossip. But gossiping about your neighbors and trespassing on their land were two very different things. Crossing onto a man’s land without his permission was almost a killing offense in many communities.
Eliza was puttering in the yard when Sarah emerged from the woods. She looked up in surprise, then straightened from the flower bed she’d been clearing out. A concerned frown spread across her face, and she met Sarah halfway across the yard. “What’s wrong?”
Sarah shook her head. Arms crossed, she stood there, miserable.
“Sarah, sweetheart, you need to tell me what’s wrong. Did something happen? Are you hurt?”
Biting her lip, Sarah looked at the ground. “I did something, and you’re going to be mad.”
“Well, that’s certainly ominous enough. Want to tell me what it was you did?”
Sarah briefly met her mother’s eyes. “Not really.” She sighed. “I got caught trespassing on Owen Campbell’s land.”
Eliza was stunned. “You… you did what?”
“I have this spot that I like to go to, and I was going there today, and he was there already. He told me not to come back.”
“A spot? How long have you been going to this spot, exactly? And where is it?”
Sarah dropped her gaze back to her feet.
“Young lady, you’ll look at me when I ask you a question, even if you are twenty-one years old.”
Her face hot, Sarah raised her head. “Yes, ma’am. It’s over the line, about halfway again around the mountain. It’s this little pool of water and a big rock. I go there to read and think. I don’t do anything while I’m there.” Thinking of the time she’d skinny dipped, she grimaced. When her mother raised an eyebrow, Sarah added, “I kind of went skinny dipping there. Once.”
Eliza drew in a slow breath and pushed two fingers into the spot between her eyebrows. “How long, Sarah?”
“How long have I been going? Since I was fifteen.”
Eliza put her hands on her hips. “You… since you were fifteen? Do you have any idea…? Fifteen? Who else knows about this?”
“No one. I… it’s a special place, Mama. It wasn’t something to share with other people. I’m sorry.” She bit her lip harder in an attempt to
stave off her tears. “It won’t happen again.”
“No, it won’t. Damn it, Sarah. Anything could have happened to you. Do you know that? Anyone could have come along.”
Sarah stood there, a few tears escaping despite her efforts to hold them in.
“What am I going to do with you, Sarah Jane?” Eliza brushed Sarah’s hair out of her face where it had come loose in the wind. “I guess, all in all, you trespassing on the neighbor’s land isn’t a horrible crime. At least you didn’t get pregnant on purpose so you could quit school early like someone whose name we won’t mention.”
Sarah gave a soggy laugh and let her mother enfold her in a hug. As she returned the embrace, she sniffled. “I suppose now I know why he doesn’t want anything to do with me at the library. He’s known about my visiting the pool for a while, I guess, from what he said.”
“Oh, honey. And you had a little bit of a crush on him, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
Eliza pulled back and studied her. “Well, there’s nothing for it. I think you need to apologize to him.”
“I did, Mama. And I told him I wouldn’t be back.”
“Still, I think a nice letter of apology might go a long way in smoothing things over.” Eliza linked her arm with Sarah’s. “And who knows? Maybe it will make him look on you more favorably.”
The notion made sense, and Sarah did feel she owed him a more adequate apology. She had been trespassing on private property. He was the injured party, such as it was. She had no hope, though, that a letter would make Owen change his mind about her.
“I’ll work on it later tonight or tomorrow. Right now, I need to lick my wounds.”
Later that night, after everyone had gone to bed, Sarah sat at the small desk in her room. The lamp cast a warm glow around the desk and chair, and Sarah stared at its china base, lost in thought. She’d started the apology letter to Owen a dozen times, and a dozen times, she’d rejected what she had written. No matter how she tried, she kept coming across as angry and resentful.
“Maybe that’s what’s wrong. I am angry. I love that little pool.” Tired, she ran a hand over her forehead. The house creaked and groaned, its bones settling in to withstand the hell-wind that was blowing. The warm front was giving way to cold air from the north, and the forecasters on the radio were predicting snow by the next afternoon. At the moment, the two weather fronts were clashing, and a relentless, howling wind was soaring above the treetops.
Bending over the paper once again, Sarah tried one more time to pen a proper apology note. It might take her the rest of the weekend to figure out the wording, but it was the right thing to do, and she was determined to do it if it killed her.
Chapter Thirteen
OWEN DIDN’T FINISH HIS PROJECT until Wednesday. By then, the snow that had come over the weekend was melted. He was itching to get off the mountain and down to Eli’s, but he’d had obligations that had to be met first. With those out of the way, he felt free to pack for a somewhat lengthy stay. He figured a couple of weeks would be long enough to forget the look on Sarah’s face, even though his conscience whispered he was a fool.
He had to make a couple of stops on the way out of town, the first being the hardware store to let his uncle know he was going out of town. They weren’t close, but Owen didn’t like to leave without letting someone know where he was going to be. After that was done, he swung by the post office and picked up his mail. Back in his truck, he thumbed through the stack of envelopes.
Among the usual letters from cousins, a few friends who were in the Army, and the professionals he corresponded with around the globe, one envelope stood out. The handwriting was delicate, elegant and feminine, and reading the return address caused his heart to skip a beat.
It was from Sarah.
Owen set the other mail aside, next to the stack of books he was planning on dropping off at the library as his last stop on the way out of town. He fingered the envelope, turning it over, then back again, then looked around the parking lot to see if anyone was watching. Fairly certain he wasn’t being observed, he casually lifted the envelope to his nose.
With the aid of his enhanced senses, Owen picked up the faint, lingering scent Sarah wore. His eyes closed for a moment, and he held in the breath, keeping it close as long as he could. When he exhaled, he reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out his penknife. Very carefully, he slit the end of the envelope and extracted the letter. The single sheet was folded neatly, and he hesitated before opening it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the contents said.
After sliding the letter halfway back into the envelope, he groaned and cursed. There was no way he could make the hours-long trip to Laurel County with the letter on the seat beside him, taunting him. Pulling it back out, he unfolded it.
Dear Mr. Campbell,
After our less-than-illustrious meeting Saturday afternoon, I felt that I owed you the courtesy of a more formal apology.
Yes, I have been trespassing on your land for some time now. That was wrong of me; I shouldn’t have done it.
I have spent many an hour on the banks of that pool in quiet contemplation, and while I will miss those visits, I will abide by your wishes.
I hope that you will harbor no ill will toward me or my family, as they were unaware of my abuse of your trust.
While I cannot be sorry for the time spent beside that lovely pool, I truly do regret taking advantage of you and violating your privacy. Please accept my heartfelt apology, and my assurances that I will not trespass again.
Warmest regards,
Sarah Browning.
Owen was surprised and a little guilt-stricken. Not for the first time, he wondered if he had done the right thing. Re-reading the message, he was tempted to rush over to the library, ask for Sarah’s forgiveness, and give her permission to use the pool any time she felt like it. Then he remembered how vulnerable that would leave him.
“Damn it.” Despite his inner turmoil, he folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope, then tucked it inside his jacket pocket, next to his heart. He was tired of arguing with himself. He started the truck, backed out of the parking spot, and went to finish his errands. After he filled the truck’s gas tank and had the oil checked, he glanced at the stack of books sitting so innocently on the seat beside him.
“You’ll have to wait until I get home,” he told them. He couldn’t take the chance of stopping by the library, not even to put the books in the book deposit. Sarah would be too close, and the temptation was too strong to try and make amends.
The peace Owen sought by leaving home didn’t materialize. In the past, whenever he’d needed to escape the confines of his life, a visit with Eli’s family had always set Owen to rights mentally and emotionally. Being an astute man, Eli easily picked up on Owen’s unhappiness. He let Owen have three days, during which Owen worked himself into exhaustion every night, helping around the farm. On the afternoon of the fourth day, Eli cornered him in the barn.
“Out with it, son. What’s troubling you?”
Owen looked up from the horse he was currying. “What do you mean?”
Eli leaned against a stall door, arms crossed over his broad chest. He gave Owen an indulgent look and waited.
When Owen saw that Eli wasn’t going to let him get away without answering, he let out a low hiss. “Can’t I have a bad mood without every move I make being examined?”
“Of course you can. But Owen, it’s obvious you’re hurting. And you’re like a son to me. I’d like to help if I can.”
Owen leaned his head against the horse’s neck. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
Eli moved a crate from the empty stall behind him and turned it up on end. He sat down with a soft grunt. “Try starting at the beginning. Tell me who she is.”
Owen knew his face reflec
ted his surprise. “How did you know it was a girl? Woman, I guess. She’s not a girl.”
His uncle’s answering smile was rueful. “When a man gets to a certain age, it’s almost always a woman. Tell me about her.”
“Remember the neighbor’s daughter who’d been coming over to the little swimming hole on my land? The one who went away to school a few years ago?”
Eli nodded. “Sure. I remember how relieved you were when she left.”
“Well, she’s back.” Owen explained about Sarah’s father’s death, her job at the library, and their encounter at the pool. “I didn’t handle it well, but damn it, Eli. I didn’t know what else to do.”
His uncle rubbed a hand over his chin, a look of almost disappointment on his face. “How did she react?”
“It upset her. I felt like a heel. And then, the day I left to come down here? I got this.” Laying the comb aside, he pulled the letter from his coat pocket. The paper was starting to become worn, he’d read it so much. With some reluctance, he handed it to his uncle, then turned to finish working with the horse.
Eli opened it and read without speaking. When he was finished, he carefully slid it back into the envelope and tapped the edge of the paper on his knee. His expression was pensive, and he didn’t speak as he watched Owen finish grooming the horse. Once the animal was back in its stall, fed and watered, Owen sat down on a bale of hay across from his uncle.
“Why are you so afraid?” Eli asked. “Is it because you don’t want to be hurt, or is it because of what you are, what we are?” He handed the letter back to Owen, and Owen tucked it into his pocket.
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