Willow's Way

by Sharon Struth

  “And what, sweetheart?”

  “Henry might have to live somewhere else.”

  “What? No!”

  The truth smacked her in the face like a blast of freezing air on a humid August day. While she realized they lived in this cottage, she’d given only a little thought to what impact moving might have on them. Owen had never once said moving would be difficult for them. Especially with a pet and finances.

  “Oh Jilly, please don’t cry.” But she did, each sob breaking Willow’s heart into tiny fragments. “Just let me think.”

  Jilly dragged the back of her hand across her dripping nose. “And now I’m going to get in trouble.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I wasn’t supposed to tell you. Daddy said so.”

  “He didn’t want me to know?”

  She shook her head. “He said it wasn’t fair to you to know his problems.”

  Of course. Just like Owen to hide his own problems. All the times he’d reacted strangely had happened while discussing the cottage sale. No doubt worried about moving his daughter.

  Willow felt horrible. Did she wear blinders, so worried about herself she’d forget about those in the path of her goal? And Henry. The idea of Henry anyplace but with them crushed Willow’s chest. The poor dog, he wouldn’t understand why he’d been separated from the people he loved.

  No. Willow couldn’t live with herself if they had to get rid of the dog. Jilly needed him. And she needed to stay in this cottage. A place where her mother’s memories were everywhere.

  Willow placed a finger under Jilly’s chin and tilted it up. “Don’t you worry about anything. I won’t tell your dad what you told me.”

  Her lower lip bowed. “But that’s lying.”

  “Yes, well, I don’t want to lie. But I need to think about what I can do. Let’s keep this quiet from your dad while I try to come up with a solution. I promise to do everything I can to make this all right.” She hoped she could.

  Jilly’s frown slowly but surely flipped right side up, her smile stealing a little piece of Willow’s heart. The promise she’d made to this little girl suddenly meant everything.

  * * * *

  “One, two, three….” Owen stood across from Willow, moving to the dance and holding his breath that she’d finish these last steps successfully. When she did, pride swelling inside him made him yell, “Perfect! You’re smashing it!”

  Jilly and Bea sat on the sofa, clapping and yelling, “Brava! Brava!”

  Willow dramatically tossed back her golden hair and held her chin high, like a diva taking in the applause of fans. “I’d like to thank the academy of motion pictures and my first, and only dance teacher, Owen Hughes. Who only suffered two broken toes to help me reach my dream of dancing at the Jane Austen Regency Ball.”

  She curtsied, holding the flowing hem of a mini dress that had belonged to her mother and now served as Willow’s shirt. A psychedelic print with large belled sleeves that she wore with gray leggings and white sneakers.

  Owen loved the carefree way she wore the unusual outfit, and found her adorable. A fact he couldn’t deny if he tried.

  Bea rose from the sofa and took Jilly’s hand. “Come on. Time for sweets. We need them after that workout.”

  “I’ll move the furniture back in place.” Owen went to the sofa, still smiling from the way Willow hammed it up a bit. He sensed she often held back, strangely confident and lacking confidence at the same time.

  “I’ll help.” Willow made her way to the other end, leaning over as she grabbed the end and exposing a little peek at her slightly exposed cleavage. He glanced up and she watched him, making his neck get all hot. How did she have this effect on him?

  “Ready?” They lifted together and returned the sofa to its usual location in front of the fireplace.

  Henry scratched at the door. Owen glanced at Willow. “Want to join me while I take him for a short walk?”

  “Sure.”

  He yelled, “Back in a sec, Bea. We’re walking Henry.”

  Jilly yelled from the other room. “Can I—”

  “Shhh,” Bea said. “You stay and help me.”

  Thank you, Bea. He wanted a few minutes alone with Willow. How did single parents ever find time for romance?

  “Come on, Henry.” Owen patted his leg and the dog followed them out the door.

  The second he stepped outside, the chilly mid-September night air blasted him. “Hold on.”

  He jogged to his van, took out a zippered sweatshirt, and returned to her side, holding it open. “Put this on.”

  She slipped her arms into the sleeves that dangled to her thighs. She laughed and pushed them up so they bunched at her forearm.

  “Thank you.” The full moon made it bright enough to see her smile. “You’re every bit the gentleman, Owen Hughes. In case you didn’t know it.”

  “Anything for you, m’lady.” He bowed, and remembered Tracey whispering in his ear. You’re too nice, Owen. Too damn nice. “Is that a good thing?”

  She tilted her head. “Heck yeah. Has someone told you it isn’t?”

  “Once.” They started to walk. He was just about to whistle for the dog when Henry shot out of the woods ahead of them. “Women are complicated.”

  She drew the sides of the sweatshirt together, keeping it closed by folding her arms across her chest. “We can be.”

  “I think you are, too.” He glanced her way, happy to see her smile.

  “Oh, I know I am.”

  “But you are in a way that leaves me wanting to know more.”

  “To be honest, I find myself curious about you, too.”

  “Do you now?” He kicked a small rock off the path. “Some people think I’m an open book.”

  “Then they aren’t watching close enough. Can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “If I sell this place, where will you and Jilly live?”

  “We’ll figure something out. Why?”

  She stopped and turned to him. “Because the visit from the estate agent got me thinking about it.”

  He didn’t believe her. This morning at breakfast, Jilly still talked about what she’d overheard and Bea said his daughter had spent the afternoon with Willow. “You sure that’s the reason?”

  She resumed walking so he followed at her side. Finally she drew in a deep breath. “It’s one of the reasons. The other is because of a confidence I won’t break.”

  Yes. Jilly must’ve broken down, but Willow had stuck by her. “Loyalty is a quality I admire in a woman.”

  A hint of smile crossed her lips. “And honesty is a quality I admire in a man.”

  “Ouch. So it’s the truth you seek?”

  She nodded.

  He drew in a breath. “Truth is…I’m a little worried about you selling this place. The cottage is the only house Jilly’s ever known. She’s been worried about moving ever since she lost her mum.”

  “It’s understandable.”

  “I had to take her to a therapist for a while.”

  “Oh.” Willow frowned. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  “How could you? I never told you.” He dug deep for strength to share this next half. How would she feel about a man who struggled financially? “Because of that, I was happy to take the job as caretaker. But I had other reasons. At the time, I spent my savings on buying a franchise with Wanderlust Excursion. Living in the cottage solved my money problems while I waited for my business to start turning a profit.”

  He exhaled. The truth was out. Without waiting for a response, he put his hand on her back and whistled for the dog. “Let’s head back.”

  She allowed him to guide her and they started their return. He held his breath waiting for a response.

  She finally said, “It makes sense you’d want to stay here.
I appreciate your honesty.”

  His tense shoulders relaxed. Her answer showed no judgment for the state of his personal affairs. “Seems my reputation depended on it.”

  She laughed. “I’m a ruthless businesswoman who demands the truth. What more can I say?”

  He shook his head. “A businesswoman, yes. Ruthless, no. Listen, I meant what I said. This is your property to do with as you want.” He swallowed, already feeling like an idiot for his next words. “I have a confession.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  He sucked in a breath. “When I took you sightseeing, I sort of hoped you’d fall in love with the Cotswolds, Stonehenge, the whole area. I figured if you did, you might decide to keep the house. It was a ridiculous and selfish move on my part.”

  “So you were trying to trick me?”

  “In an idiotic way.” He stopped and took her by the shoulders. “That day, what started as a half-assed plan with ulterior motives ended up being a wonderful day with you. Far better than I’d expected.”

  She frowned. “Because you didn’t want to be with me?”

  “God, no! You were the best part of it as we set out. The sights around here have grown tiresome for me.”

  “I’d never have known you were tired of it here. You talk very passionately, like you feel something for what you are discussing.”

  “My theater background comes in handy as a tour guide. Who’d want to go on a tour with a guide who doesn’t show interest?”

  She nodded. “So you’re faking it, but you’d rather be traveling the world?”

  Would he? “Initially, yes. But by leaving my tour director job around Europe and coming back here permanently, I realized how much I’d been missing of Jilly’s life by being away so much. Sadly, it took her mother’s passing for me to realize it.”

  “Why do you dislike it here? It’s beautiful. I know I’ll miss this place when I leave.”

  “Personal reasons.”

  “Like…”

  “I told you about my dad. I left decades ago because of him.”

  The dog flew out of the woods and ran over to Willow. After an obligatory pet, he ran ahead of them. They resumed walking.

  She bumped his shoulder with hers. “Kind of ironic, huh?”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m looking for my father, while you have one and it isn’t always perfect.”

  Her words sank in. Some would call him ungrateful. Maybe he was. “I suppose I could work a little harder at trying to understand him instead of always arguing.”

  She shrugged. “Perhaps. Or maybe you are justified. It’s something to think about.”

  He’d never discussed this part of his life with anybody, let alone a woman he barely knew. Telling her his innermost thoughts came easily. It had since that minute they sat together on the train.

  They resumed walking, each silent. Henry darted into the dense woods along the path. Owen reached over and took Willow’s hand. She glanced over and smiled, settling at his side and walking comfortably. As if they’d done this a thousand times.

  A rabbit hopped out from the woods and they stopped. A split second later, Henry screamed his battle cry and shot out from the woods and brushed against Willow’s legs. Her footing wavered, but Owen reached out and grabbed her by the elbow and steadied her.

  “Sorry about him.”

  “It’s okay. After all, it was a rabbit.”

  They both laughed. He kept his hand on her elbow and drew her close. “Remember our Frank Sinatra dance?”

  “I’ll never forget.”

  He slipped a hand around her back, drawing her close and humming the song. As her arm fell to his shoulder, he moved her on the path to the music tempo.

  She stared into his eyes, and he got so lost in the way they glistened from the moonlight, he almost took a misstep.

  Her voice softened. “I like dancing with you. You make me feel comfortable.”

  “You do the same for me.”

  “You mean it?” She smiled.

  “Do I joke around?”

  Her smile vanished and her hand drifted to the back of his neck, where she softly massaged his nape. “All the time.”

  He stopped dancing. Lifting his hand, he brushed away a strand of hair near her temple and slowly ran his finger along her cheek, her skin every bit as soft as he’d imagined.

  Her gaze locked on his and he wandered, lost in their sparkle, mesmerizing as the stars above. He tilted her chin up, wanting to feel her mouth on his. He pressed his lips to hers, finding them soft, eager.

  A rustle in the woods that turned out to be Henry broke the kiss, but Owen didn’t step away. Some part of him wanted to hold her like this forever.

  Chapter 18

  Owen pressed the phone closer to his ear, trying to ignore Margo as she stood in the doorway of his office waving her arms. God, she could be the most impatient woman in the world. “Yes, Mr. Como. I’m certain we can accommodate your group tour needs.”

  Barely a second passed before she marched over to his desk, grabbed a pad, and wrote something then pushed the note in front of him.

  It’s important!!

  “Could I ask you to hold for a moment?” He pushed the hold button on his desk phone. “What’s the matter, Margo?”

  “There’s an emergency. Your mum is on line two.”

  His blood ran cold, and he quickly explained to the prospective client he had to go, promising to call back. He pushed the other line. “Mum, what’s wrong?”

  “Thank God I reached you.” The trembling in her voice set Owen’s gut on edge. “It’s your father. He’s at Royal United Hospital.”

  “The hospital? What happened? Will he be all right?”

  “They think it’s his heart.” Her voice cracked. “I’m waiting for the doctor to learn more.”

  “I’m leaving the office right now.” She gave him the room number. Owen searched his desk drawer for his keys and hung up.

  “Will your dad be all right?”

  “Don’t know anything yet.” Owen found the keys, along with his wallet, and grabbed both. “I’ll let you know when I do. Can you follow up with each tour that’s out and make sure they’re on schedule?”

  “Will do.”

  “Thanks.” He hurried past Margo and out the office door to his van.

  Owen drove, his body numb, his mind turned to practical details. He called Bea to let her know what had happened and make sure she could pick up Jilly from school.

  As he sped along the road on autopilot, he grappled with the news. Dad’s heart. Owen knew he wouldn’t live forever. What if the call had been to say his father had died, that Owen would never have a chance to speak to him again? A swift pain pounded him hard as a sledgehammer to the chest. Guilt. All those stiff conversations. All the tension when they stood in the same room. All the times Owen could’ve tried harder, but didn’t. He pressed the gas pedal and picked up speed.

  After parking the van, he rushed into the lobby and took the elevator to his dad’s floor. Breathing in the antiseptic-smelling hallway, he said a prayer the old man would be okay. At the room number his mother had given him, Owen paused to inhale deeply before entering.

  Dad lay with eyes closed on bleached white hospital sheets, a tube running from his arm to a drip and an electric monitor flashing digital readings.

  Across the room, his younger brother stood looking out the window, rubbing the back of his neck. His dirty jeans and wrinkled T-shirt hinted that Graham had come straight from work as well.

  Owen went over and gave his brother a hug.

  Graham let go, shaking his head, a pained stare on his boyish face. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “What happened?”

  Graham’s eyes teared and his Adam’s apple rolled along his throat. “Dad passed out at our job site.”r />
  “Oh bugger that!” Owen’s father grumbled from his bed. “I’m fine. Just needed a little something to eat.”

  Owen’s mother entered carrying a plastic pitcher of water, which she placed on a table near the bed. “Hush, Frank.” She tossed an annoyed glare his way, but her tired eyes showed her worry.

  Owen hugged his mother, but stopped himself from going to the bed to hug his father. Dad had never been the type for hugs. “Do they know what’s wrong?”

  “Not yet, but they’re worried it might be his heart.”

  “It isn’t a big deal, Ginny,” Dad growled, ever the angry bear.

  His mother’s cheeks blasted bright red and she glared her husband. “Frank Hughes! Don’t you say another word.”

  A rare rise of his mother’s voice. One Owen figured—if Dad were smart—he should pay heed to.

  She took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. “Now the doctor told you to relax. And it wasn’t nothing.”

  His father pressed his lips tight, then tipped back his head and closed his eyes.

  Graham left the window and came over to them. “I’m going to get myself a coffee downstairs. Mum, Owen, can I get you one?”

  Both shook their heads and Graham left the room.

  Owen’s mother collapsed into a chair near the bed. They were getting older. Where they’d need both their sons around to help them. If he hadn’t moved home to be with Jilly, he could’ve been far from here during this crisis. Unable to offer them the immediate support he could today.

  He dragged another chair to her side and took her hand. “How did this start?”

  “Your father, too damn proud to tell me how he’s been feeling, finally confessed to the doctors that he’s had shortness of breath, been feeling tired, and lightheaded. Because he passed out, they suspect heart valve problems. They did a chest X-ray as soon as he arrived, but this afternoon they’ll do an echocardiography to confirm their findings.”

  He glanced at his father, lying with his eyes shut again. Every inch of Owen wanted to go sit at his side, share his worry, tell him he’d hate to lose his dad. Hell, if there ever seemed like a time to resist a lifetime of letting his dad dictate the distance of their relationship, it was now.