A Rainbow Above Us

by Sharon Sala

  He was unprepared for this…for her, and when she bent over and quietly tied them on his feet so he wouldn’t trip, her image blurred. He was crying again. She straightened up, then touched his knee.

  “You helped me. I help you,” Rowan said, and was starting to go back inside when he grasped her by the wrist.

  “Please…stay,” he said, and then he turned her loose, leaving the decision completely up to her.

  Rowan climbed up onto the table beside him, like they’d done before, and let the night engulf them.

  Bowie scrubbed the tears from his eyes with the heels of his hands, then took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, repeating the process several more times, just as he’d done to calm the panic attacks he’d had the year after his mother’s death.

  This emotion was nothing like panic, but it had been a shock, and he was having to weigh it against the fact that only three years later she committed suicide. She hadn’t been able to change her past, but she’d damn sure given up on her future.

  He’d felt sorry for her before, but right now he was gutted, thinking of how sad and desperate she must have been, when all that time he thought they were doing okay.

  He glanced at Rowan. She was looking up…looking for her celestial signs.

  “What do you see?” he asked.

  “Proof.”

  He looked up, following her line of sight but not getting what she meant.

  “Proof of what?”

  She turned to face him, searching his features in the moonlight and realizing she was becoming far more attached than was probably good for her heart.

  “Proof that as often as things change, they also stay the same. We aren’t unique in our troubles, are we? As much as we’ve been hurt, so have other people, looking at the same stars and in so many lifetimes, long before we were so much as a flicker of light.”

  “I never took much stock in the phrase ‘old soul’ until I met you. Do you ever doubt this inner wisdom that seems to come when you most need it?” he asked.

  Rowan shrugged. “I never thought about myself like that. Whatever I know did not come from books. It’s just what I know. I came this way.”

  Bowie held his hand out to her, palm up.

  Rowan didn’t hesitate as she reached for him. His fingers closed around her hand, and there they sat, linked by their losses and the unexpected emotions of mutual attraction.

  They sat without speaking, watching the lights in the trailers around them going off, one by one. The last to go was the little fifth-wheel trailer in the lot across the way.

  Bowie glanced over his shoulder. The lights were still on in the kitchen area, but the rest of his home was dark.

  “I’ll go in, if you want to be outside on your own now,” Rowan said.

  Bowie shook his head. “What I want to do is kiss you. But somehow that feels like I’d be taking advantage of your need for shelter.”

  Rowan froze. This was a moment she’d never known before, and something told her the chance might never come again. In her need to be loved, she forgot about everything she’d believed about herself and took a chance on believing in him.

  “If I kissed you first, would that remove your guilt?” she whispered.

  Bowie slid a hand beneath her hair, cupping her neck as he pulled her to him. He heard her sigh, then felt every muscle in her body acquiesce to his touch.

  “We could try,” he said. “But we might need to run more than one test kiss to be sure.”

  She leaned toward him and then made contact with his mouth right before the earth shifted, rocking them where they sat. His lips were smooth, and the kiss was gentle. She moved away.

  “I think the guilt is still here,” Bowie said.

  She kissed him again, but this time he kissed her back, and it was soon apparent that second kiss wasn’t going to be enough for her.

  “I’m still uncertain,” she said.

  “Yeah, so am I,” Bowie countered. “Maybe it’s time I kissed you.”

  She scooted closer. He lifted her from the table into his lap, and when her arms went around his neck, he pulled her as close as breath would allow and put them both in orbit.

  Rowan was feeling things she didn’t know her body could feel, and there were aches and yearnings washing through her she didn’t know how to control. It was the first time in her life that she regretted her inexperience with the opposite sex, because instinct was telling her they could light matches from the heat they would create between them.

  And this time, Bowie was the one to pull away. But he didn’t go far. He cupped her face, looking into her eyes and seeing the reflections of starlight.

  “One of us has to stop now or we’re both going to be too far gone to care.”

  Rowan sighed. It had been a beautiful moment between them, and she was sorry it was over.

  “However,” Bowie said, “I would gladly repeat the exercise. All you have to do is let me know.”

  Rowan shivered. “How would I do that?” she asked.

  Bowie grinned, then gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “You’ll figure it out. Are you ready to go inside?”

  She nodded and slipped out of his lap.

  He got off the table, then grabbed her around the waist and lifted her down as if she didn’t weigh a thing.

  “Thank you for sitting with me,” he said.

  “You’re welcome, and I’m very glad I did or I would have missed all this…with you.”

  Bowie put an arm around her shoulder as they headed for the door.

  “Just remember, there’s more where that came from. And one other thing you need to know…if you begin to doubt me. This is not a thing I do. I don’t let people get close. Just know that for me, you are one special woman.”

  When they reached the steps to go in, Rowan paused.

  “I only ever had that one boyfriend in high school, and then only for a little while. After I graduated, there was no one, and as I told you, I assumed it was because I wasn’t enough. Now I’m glad life kept me in such a suspended state of emotional growth. I think I would have been too trusting. I think I would have been very easy to hurt.”

  “I won’t ever hurt you. I swear. If you feel as if life kept you waiting, I’d like to think it was because you were waiting for me.”

  Rowan sighed as he lowered his head for one last, very brief kiss.

  Then he opened the door and they went inside. Just like the night before, Rowan went to shower while Bowie set the security alarm and made out the beds.

  Then when he went in to get ready, she turned out the lights and crawled into bed.

  Bowie emerged a short while later, saw her curled up in the same little ball with the covers held down around her neck, and then got into bed. He stretched out, then rolled over, and was on the verge of slumber when Rowan called out from across the room.

  “Good night, Bowie.”

  He smiled. “Good night, Rowan.”

  And he slept without a single thought of the journal or that last entry of his mother’s despair.

  Chapter 9

  It was a little after midnight when Nellie Boone rolled over in bed and, like always, reached out to touch her husband’s arm just to know he was there. But she didn’t feel him, so she turned on the light and saw Mel’s side of the bed was empty.

  She raised up on one elbow, saw the bathroom light was out, and he was nowhere in sight. This was so out of the norm for Mel that she got up to go check on him and found him sitting in the living room in the dark. He was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, and looking down at the floor.

  “Mel? Are you all right?”

  Mel looked up. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  Nellie sat down on the sofa beside him and patted him on the back.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Mama is divorcing Daddy.
He left town. She’s disowned all of us.”

  Nellie gasped. “You aren’t serious! Why?”

  Mel wiped a shaky hand across his face. “She saw Bowie James. The fact that he’s the spitting image of Daddy when he was young made her realize Randall had lied to her about what happened to Billie James, and then it dawned on her that we must have known, which would explain the gossip about him getting beat up and why Billie took him and ran. She hates us all for denying our own blood.”

  Nellie sat without talking, trying to absorb what he was saying, until she finally had to ask.

  “You mean that story I heard about you all was true? The boy was beaten up and his life was threatened?”

  Mel shrugged. “Daddy wanted them gone.”

  Her voice rose a whole octave. “You beat up a kid?”

  “Not just me. It was all of us, and Daddy was right there, egging us on.”

  Nellie’s voice began to shake. “Randall knew that was his own child, and he still hurt him?”

  Mel was beginning to notice the confession wasn’t gaining him any sympathy.

  “I don’t know what Randall thought, and don’t go carrying on like you didn’t suspect anything. We’ve been married fifteen years, and you know how this goes. We work for Daddy. Only he’s gone now, and it appears Emmitt and I are out of a job. I don’t have a skill I can fall back on.”

  Nell stood up. “You could always go to work for a bill collector. If they needed any knees capped, you have the skill set for that.”

  Mel was so shocked he couldn’t speak and let Nellie get all the way out of the room before he thought to respond.

  Then he jumped up and followed her into their bedroom. She was sitting on the side of the bed, blowing her nose and crying.

  He sat down beside her. “Don’t cry, Nellie. I’m sorry. We’ll figure it out.”

  “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to, so don’t talk to me right now. I need to think.”

  “Think about what?” Mel asked.

  Nellie turned and looked him straight in the eyes. “Whether I go home to Kentucky on my own, or whether I let you come with me.”

  Mel was like his father, quick to anger, and he unintentionally clenched his hands into fists as he stood.

  “Let me? Let me? Are you saying you’re divorcing me, like Mama is doing to Daddy?”

  “If you’d been listening, I told you I need to think. Your best bet is to shut your mouth and go sleep on the sofa tonight.”

  Mel stormed out of their bedroom without uttering another word. He was so mad he felt like he might explode. He didn’t know who he was maddest at—his daddy for teaching them to hate…or himself for not being man enough to stand up to him years ago and say no.

  * * *

  A similar conversation was still ongoing in Emmitt and Tiny’s house. It began at the dinner table and carried on throughout the meal and all the way up to bedtime.

  Tiny was furious that her easy way of life with no money worries was coming to an end. She was mad at Cora. She was mad at Emmitt. And she was mad at Judson for running away.

  She’d sent Junior to his bedroom to watch TV, and now here it was almost midnight and neither she nor Emmitt had been to bed.

  Emmitt was emotionally exhausted and worrying about his son and what he was facing.

  Tiny was ablaze with misplaced indignation.

  “I can’t believe Judson just took himself out of Blessings like this. I never took him as a man who would roll over and quit all easy-like. Why, he even went off and left us to deal with Junior’s situation on our own,” she cried.

  Emmitt shrugged. “He’s our son, not Daddy’s, which makes Junior our responsibility.”

  Tiny wouldn’t listen. “Junior was only defending your honor.”

  And that’s when Emmitt lost it. “Honor? What’s honorable about what Mel and I did to an unarmed man? Tell me that!”

  “Well, you were only doing what—”

  “Exactly!” Emmitt shouted. “What Daddy told us to do. I don’t like who I’ve become, and now I’ve poisoned my son with it to the point he might be facing juvenile detention.”

  Tiny threw up her hands and wailed. “I will not let my son go to jail.”

  “Oh, shut up, Tiny. He broke the law. You go raise hell about it and they’ll slap you in jail, too.”

  The mere notion of being arrested was enough to shift her focus, but not the rant. She turned on her husband, enraged by the debacle they were facing.

  “Then do something!” she demanded.

  Emmitt turned around and got his car keys from the dresser and started out of the room.

  “Emmitt Lee! Where are you going?” Tiny shrieked.

  “Somewhere quiet. It’s not like I have to get up and go to work in the morning,” he snapped, and walked out of the house with her traipsing behind him, shrieking and bawling every step of the way.

  Down the hall, Junior was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. In his mind, everything that was happening was all his fault. He couldn’t believe his grandparents were getting a divorce. And the fight he had been listening to between his parents had been just as eye-opening.

  He rolled over onto his side and started to cry. If only he hadn’t messed up that man’s car, none of this would be happening. The last thing he was thinking as he finally fell asleep was—if he caused this, then it was up to him to fix it.

  * * *

  Bowie had just finished shaving, but instead of getting dressed, he was looking at himself in the mirror and thinking back over what his life had become.

  He’d become used to work filling his every waking hour without thinking about how fast the years were passing. He was thinking that hurricane had done him a great big favor by giving him a reason to come back…even if it was temporary. It had reminded him what being a part of a family meant.

  Meeting Rowan had only added to the unsettled feeling, and last night had been a revelation. Just two short days, and she was no longer a stranger. He’d seen her laughing hysterically. He’d seen her cry. He’d seen fire flash in her dark eyes, and he’d seen an endless sorrow. Kissing her had only made him want more, but it was the innocence in her that filled him with an overwhelming need to protect.

  Then he glanced at the time and reached for his clothes. When he emerged a couple of minutes later and saw Rowan sitting at the table eating toast with peanut butter and jelly, he grinned.

  “No cereal today?”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “It just felt like a PB&J morning…you know?” Then she pointed at the cabinet. “I made one for you, too, but you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to. It won’t hurt my feelings.”

  He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “It will hurt my feelings if I don’t,” he said. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down with her and the sandwich, then began to eat.

  “I’ll be back at noon. We need to get phones replaced. Did you have an iPhone or an Android?”

  “I didn’t have anything, remember? Daddy got one, then did away with the landline to save money.”

  Bowie frowned as he took a sip of coffee, but to him, it sounded like another way for her dad to isolate her. He glanced at the time again and quickly finished off the sandwich.

  “Want another one?” Rowan asked.

  “No thanks, honey, but thank you for being my breakfast partner.”

  “My pleasure, too,” she said.

  “See you guys at noon. I’ll take you to Granny’s first, and then we’re getting phones.”

  Rowan sighed, and Bowie heard it.

  “Hey…what’s wrong? I don’t mean to be bulldozing you into something you don’t want. It’s totally fine if—”

  “It’s not that. It’s this,” Rowan said, pointing at her clothes. “I have three outfits, none of which look like goi
ng-out-to-eat clothes. I would rather stay here and you take your girls.”

  Bowie backtracked and then cupped the side of her cheek.

  “If you’re with them, then you’re with me, you know.”

  She blushed and then finally smiled. “I know, but—”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” he said. “Gotta go.” He gave her a thumbs-up.

  Rowan followed him to the door, and then stood in the doorway until he looked back. Then she waved. The smile on his face made her heart skip. She backed up and then locked the door. Bowie James was the bulldozer. He didn’t waste time doing anything, including making known what he wanted.

  She wrapped her arms around her waist and shivered with a sudden longing for more. Of everything. Then she began putting their cups and plates in the dishwasher, thinking this man would have made Daddy nervous. This man didn’t think she was homely. And she was beginning to wonder how other people saw her, too.

  * * *

  The demo crew had been at work nearly an hour. They had taken down all the walls that weren’t load-bearing. Bowie had ordered two long headers yesterday to shore up the walls that were load-bearing, and once those were in place, the studs could come down, too.

  He was looking over an idea for the kitchen layout—he’d roughed it out, but needed to run it by the people who’d be cooking in it before final decisions were made—when Ray yelled at him from the front porch.

  “Hey, Bowie! Someone here to see you.”

  “Be right there!” he shouted, and rolled up the plans as he headed for the front of the house.

  Recognizing his visitor as the kid who’d keyed his car, Bowie frowned and went out to talk to him.

  “Please don’t be mad at me, Mr. James. No one knows I’m here, but I need to talk to you.”

  Bowie frowned. The fact that the teen had come all this way on his own made him curious.

  “You have five minutes,” he said.

  Junior Boone let out a big sigh of relief. At least Bowie was going to let him talk, which was more than he deserved.

  “First off, I’m sorry I was such an ass. From what I’ve learned in the past twenty-four hours, it runs in the family.”