Blue Hollow Falls

by Donna Kauffman

  “I can do that,” Bailey said, her polite tone back. Her enthusiasm meter was still around zero, however.

  “I thought you were kind of excited to come,” Sunny said, her tone one of sincere curiosity. “It’s okay if you’d rather stay here. I know I’d probably feel the same if I had new little four-legged charges. I know it might sound funny, but how you feel about your lamb—lambs now—is how I feel about my orchids.”

  “But they’re just plants,” Bailey said and Sawyer smiled, because she’d sounded just like Sunny. Not accusatory, but sincerely curious.

  “Plants are living things, too,” Sunny said. “Not in the way animals are, but they need air, and they need food, and the right kind of temperature in order to survive.”

  “I guess I never thought of it that way.” There was a pause; then she said, “So, you really love them. Your orchids?”

  “I do,” Sunny said.

  Sawyer could almost hear Bailey’s heart sink and his own took a bit of a hit as well.

  Then Sunny said, “If you’d like, I could show you how to grow some. There are some species of North American orchids that grow wild in mountain areas like this. We could probably get some Showy Lady’s Slippers to grow on Addie’s property, not too far from the house.”

  “Are they rare?”

  “Some are, but I was thinking of starting off with something a little hardier.”

  “That would be cool,” Bailey said, sounding sincere, but like she was still mulling it over. “When could we do that? You’d come up here to help, right?”

  “I would, and we could do it as soon as the temperatures are right.”

  “Not in the winter, then.”

  There was another pause and Sawyer assumed Sunny was shaking her head no.

  Then Bailey said, “You grow them all year in your greenhouses at work though, right?”

  “We control the environment there, so yes. We can start yours there, then transplant them.”

  “Okay, cool,” she said. “We should check on Sawyer and Seth. They’re probably done.” There was a definite spark in her voice now, and while Sunny might think it was about her orchid growing offer, Sawyer suspected it had a different source entirely.

  He quickly moved away from the window and was staple-gunning mesh to a fence post when Bailey came around the corner of the croft.

  “Sunny said she has to leave early tomorrow, so we need to go down to the mill now,” Bailey told him. She moved closer, and looked over her shoulder to see if Sunny had followed her. “I don’t think we can wait,” she said in a whisper. She glanced over her shoulder again, but Sunny had walked across to where the lambs were scrambling around and was laughing at their antics. Bailey sighed in relief, then looked back to Sawyer and said, “It’s all going to work out. I told her how much you liked her, and she said she liked you a lot, too. But we have to show her so she knows it will all work out.”

  Sawyer’s heart had been yanked in so many directions since the two sisters had come into his life. He wondered if they had any idea how similar they were. Caretakers by nature, whether of flora or fauna, and survivors, both of them, sturdy and strong, but with hearts that were still very tender.

  He finished stapling the last of the mesh and scooped up the leftover. “I think we can manage it. Hold up,” he said when Bailey looked like she was about to run off to tell Sunny and Seth they were leaving. “Bailey—” He started, then paused, because she’d turned back to him, and gone was that guarded ten-year-old who kept herself carefully apart. All the hope in the world was shining out of those big baby blues, and he wanted like hell to promise her the moon and the stars for being so damn brave. He wanted to tell her that it had in some part been her willingness to put herself out there with her newfound Blue Hollow Falls family that had pushed him to do the same with Sunny.

  Instead, he was as honest as he could be. “What you’ve done, and Seth, Will, too—”

  “You’ve helped, too,” she said, and he could see her bracing herself, pulling back behind that carefully guarded wall. He hated that.

  “I have, and that’s because I think it’s a really great thing you did, are doing. It shows how gigantic your heart is. Big enough to fit all of us inside, those lambs over there, and who knows what else. I know you can’t comprehend what a good thing that is, but it shows what kind of person you are.”

  “You’re going to tell me it won’t work. She won’t stay.”

  “I’m going to tell you that we can’t make her stay. That’s not the same thing. Some people sit around and moan that life isn’t giving them what they want. You didn’t do that. You got up and figured out a solution. That’s damn impressive.” He didn’t apologize for the swear word, because she’d earned the accolade. “But it’s not a guarantee. That’s all I’m saying here. She’ll love you more for it, there’s not a single doubt in my mind. But the rest . . . it’s complicated.”

  Bailey didn’t reply. She wasn’t pouting or anything, but her expression could only be described as stubborn. Privately, Sawyer thought that trait would likely end up serving her just as well as the others he’d mentioned. Maybe more. She didn’t like hearing something couldn’t be done. Most of the world’s biggest successes were motivated by that very same trait.

  “I’m on your side,” he told her, walking over and putting a hand on her shoulder when she turned back to watch Sunny and Seth laughing over the lambs. “I want her here, too.”

  Bailey looked up at him. “You really do?”

  “I can make you one promise that I know I can keep.”

  “What is that?”

  “That I will always be honest with you.” He crouched down so they were at the same eye level and gently held on to both of her arms so she faced him. She held his gaze as directly as anyone he’d ever met. She’d put half the men in his unit to shame with her ability to maintain eye contact. He smiled at that. “I will do my best to give Sunny every reason there is to want to figure out a solution that will have her spending as much time in Blue Hollow Falls as she can. And I think she wants that, too. Not just for me, but for you, for Addie. Her biggest concern when we decided to—” He faltered for a moment.

  “Start dating?”

  “Yes,” he said, relieved. Sometimes adults could so overcomplicate things. “She worried that if we decided at some point we didn’t want to date anymore, it might make things awkward for you. She didn’t want that to happen.”

  “Me, either,” Bailey said, quite bluntly. Equally bluntly, she added, “But you live here and she’s my sister, so it’s not like we couldn’t get over it if something happened.”

  Sawyer laughed out loud at that, causing Sunny and Seth to look their way, both smiling.

  He sent them a little wave, then looked back at Bailey. “Well, see, that’s what Seth said.”

  “He’s a good friend,” she said. “He has my back.”

  Sawyer chuckled. “Mine, too. And you couldn’t ask for a better person on your six.”

  Her eyes brightened. “I know what that means. Seth told me it’s like if there is a huge clock lying flat on top of your head, and the twelve is in front of you, then the six is in back of you. So, having your back means he has your six o’clock.”

  Sawyer grinned. “Exactly.”

  She studied him with focused regard. “So, do you think you’ll ever stop liking Sunny?”

  Sawyer glanced over at Sunny, who glanced up just then, as if feeling his gaze on her, and immediately smiled. “I don’t think so,” he said.

  “Good. Then we just have to get her to say yes,” Bailey said, as if it was so obvious she didn’t get why the adults were being so lame. She grabbed his hand, pulled up. “So, let’s go. We’re burning daylight.”

  “Did you get that from Seth, too?” he said, chuckling and letting her drag him along.

  She shook her head. “Mr. Will says it. A lot.”

  Sawyer nodded, smiled. “Sounds about right.”

  “I’ll go up and make
sure it’s okay with Miss Addie,” she said, all bottled energy now. “I’ll meet you at the truck.” She started to take off, then ran over to the lambs first. She entered the enclosure and went over to them, breaking them apart with absolute confidence that she wasn’t going to get nipped or bopped by an errant hoof, then proceeded to hug each lamb and give them all stern instructions on their expected behavior until she returned.

  “I know I’d listen to her,” Seth said, coming to stand next to Sawyer.

  Sunny and Sawyer both nodded, then watched as Bailey left the paddock, careful to exit through the double panel they’d set up to keep the sheep from inadvertently escaping when anyone entered or exited. And to their collective shock, all three lambs trotted over to the gate after she’d closed it, then wandered over to the water trough and began calmly sipping away, as if they’d been doing that the entire time.

  “She’s the sheep whisperer,” Sunny said.

  “Come on,” Bailey called out, already halfway up the steep trail that led to the house.

  “And half mountain goat,” Sawyer added.

  “Where are we going?” Sunny asked, as they began the climb back up the hill. “Does this have anything to do with whatever nefarious plans have been going on behind my back?” She laughed when both Seth and Sawyer instantly pasted on innocent expressions. “You’re about as subtle as Addie.”

  Sawyer winced. “That transparent?”

  “Like glass.”

  “Well, the suspense will be over shortly,” Seth said, then jogged ahead and on up to the top like it was nothing more than a Sunday stroll in the park.

  “You can see why the two of them get along so well,” Sawyer said, holding Sunny’s hand to help her over the slick, muddier parts.

  “So, you’re not going to tell me? Not even a little hint?” She leaned in and batted her eyelashes.

  “You drive a tough bargain,” he said, dropping a fast kiss on her mouth. “But I think I’m more afraid of the ten-year-old in this instance.”

  Sunny laughed. “Good instincts.”

  “They’ve kept me alive this long.” He led Sunny the rest of the way up the hill, wishing he had half of Bailey’s moxie. And trying like hell to keep the same hope from filling him that he’d seen filling her innocent, young baby blues.

  Chapter Twenty

  Addie had been elbow deep down in her studio, prepping materials for her upcoming classes in North Carolina, so she’d opted to stay at her cabin. The rest of them caravanned down to the mill. Sunny was beyond curious about the surprise they’d apparently all been cooking up. She honestly hadn’t a clue. Privately, her real hope was that whatever it was wouldn’t take all that much time to show her, so she could make all the appropriate noises, and still have time to head to the woods and out to the greenhouse before the sun started to set.

  They pulled in around the back of the mill. The snow was all but gone there. She was looking forward to seeing the mill blanketed in snow, like Sawyer’s property had been. Sawyer had told her that in cold winters, a good part of the falls would actually freeze over, looking almost as if they’d frozen in motion. She was fascinated by that and would love to see it, but she wasn’t otherwise rooting for a heavy winter. The clearer the roads remained, the easier it would be for her and Sawyer to see each other.

  She was already not looking forward to going home alone in the morning. Buck up, ya big baby. She’d been giving herself variations of the “you could have worse problems” pep talks during the entire drive down earlier that day. But time felt like it was already racing by, and she wasn’t ready to leave him yet. Truth be told, she wasn’t ready to leave everyone else, either.

  She climbed out of the truck as Seth pulled in with Bailey riding shotgun in his Land Rover. She wasn’t sure what to make of Bailey’s sudden lack of interest in coming to see her the following three-day weekend, but hoped it had more to do with the lambs than anything personal that might have suddenly turned her off. Sunny had planned all kinds of what she hoped would be fun outings for the two of them, and yes, there was work to be done, but she’d been hoping to make that fun for Bailey, too. She supposed she should have thought the whole lamb thing through a bit more. Of course Bailey wouldn’t want to leave them so soon.

  But there was no lack of enthusiasm now, she noted, as Bailey was all but dragging Seth by the hand. “Come on,” she urged.

  Sunny started walking toward the back door to the mill, looking forward to seeing firsthand what had been done during the past week. She was amazed at how quickly it all seemed to be coming together now. Sawyer and Addie had been sending her photos, and now that the space had all been framed out and the subfloors and drywall were up, the whole layout was quite clear to see. Looking at those photos, she could hardly believe it was the same cavernous relic she’d walked into that first day. It felt like a full lifetime ago now.

  But Bailey wasn’t tugging Seth toward the mill. The two of them started off across what was now more mud than grass toward—she stopped dead in her tracks and looked back at Sawyer, trying like hell not to think what she was instantly thinking.

  He must have read something of the cascade of thoughts and hope and curiosity and . . . hope that crossed her face. He came around the front of his truck and took her hand. “Come on,” he said.

  “You realize I might die at least five times in the next five minutes if you don’t tell me what—”

  He turned in front of her so she neatly walked straight into his chest, cupped her cheek, and kissed her until she calmed down. Calm being a relative term, but he’d successfully diverted her attention at any rate.

  He lifted his mouth from hers and said, “It’s Bailey’s surprise. I’m just along for the ride.”

  Sunny calmed down then, because, well, Bailey was amazing, but she was only ten years old. So, whatever this was, it wasn’t likely to be about the one thing Sunny knew lay down this path. Her greenhouse.

  Well, Bailey’s greenhouse, and Addie’s and Sawyer’s, as they all technically owned a piece of it. But in her heart, it would always be her greenhouse. She couldn’t help it.

  The trail felt like it went on even longer this time, and she had the sudden thought maybe they were actually going to that overlook Sawyer had mentioned way back the first time they’d come out this way, the one he’d taken Bailey up to see her first day in the Hollow.

  But just before they got to the clearing, Bailey turned around, and ran back to her and Sawyer. “Close your eyes,” she instructed Sunny, sounding intensely serious and wound tighter than a drum, all at the same time. She took Sunny’s hand in her own, and waited until Sunny complied.

  “But—”

  Sawyer took Sunny’s other hand, leaned in, and whispered, “Have faith.”

  Sunny nodded, and tried to block out every wish she’d ever wished about the greenhouse, and there had been far too many of those made, usually when she was lying in bed at night, unable to sleep, too busy thinking about the amazing twists and turns her life had taken since that pretty fall day in Turtle Springs.

  They led her slowly forward so she didn’t trip over any tree roots or rocks. She could feel the sun on her face the moment they left the thick stand of pine trees.

  “Okay,” Bailey said, her voice almost painfully tight. “Open them.”

  As she said this, she was all but squeezing the life out of Sunny’s hand. A moment later, both of Sunny’s hands were covering her mouth, her gasp the single sound filling the air.

  “We only just started,” Bailey hurried to say.

  Somehow Sunny managed to tear her gaze away from the greenhouse, and the grounds surrounding it, to look down at Bailey, whose little face was creased with more anxiety than any ten-year-old should ever be feeling.

  “You did this?” Sunny managed, still in shock. “But . . . how?”

  “I had help,” she said, still anxious.

  “Oh . . . my . . .” Sunny might have stumbled forward a step, but Sawyer took her elbow. She felt so
mething damp on her cheeks and brushed at them, only to realize that they were tears.

  “She’s crying,” Bailey whispered fiercely to Sawyer.

  Sunny pulled herself together then, and sank to her knees, heedless of the mud and muck and pulled Bailey into her arms, almost hugging the life out of her. “I don’t know how you did this, but you are the most amazing girl I’ve ever met.”

  Bailey held Sunny’s shoulders and looked her square in the face, making sure she didn’t misunderstand. “So . . . you like it?”

  “Like it?” Sunny sat back and laughed in shock. “It’s . . .” She trailed off again and looked past Bailey to the greenhouse and, with Sawyer’s help, slowly got to her feet. With her hand on Bailey’s shoulder, they both turned to survey the area. The land around the greenhouse had been completely cleared, and all the vines and weeds and growth that had covered the front of the building had been removed. That alone made such a tremendous difference, she almost didn’t recognize the place.

  The oversized front door had been scrubbed clean as much as it could be and was hanging correctly on what appeared to be new hinges. The glass panes on the front of the atrium appeared to have been scrubbed as well. She could see inside better there than through the panes on the west and east wings that jutted out to either side. The scroll trim that bordered the front of the atrium peak had been cleaned and whatever white paint had remained, along with all the mold, scale, and Lord knew what else had been scraped off and stripped down to the wrought iron. It gave the place an entirely different look. More . . . regal, less folly.

  “We haven’t gotten to the rest of the glass on the front. Some of it needs to be replaced.” Bailey glanced at Sawyer, her expression still worried, then said, “Probably more than some.”

  Sunny dragged her gaze away again and looked down at Bailey. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life.”

  Bailey’s wiry frame relaxed and her face split into a wide grin as she let herself begin to believe her plan was going to work out the way she wanted it to. “Seth and I started to clear out stuff from the inside, but then I wasn’t sure if you wanted to keep any of it. The plants, I mean.” She started pulling Sunny forward. “We took out a lot of the dead stuff, and most of the tables and stuff are rotted.”