Page 24 of Almost Home
“He always was, yes.” Sarah’s eyes flicked up to mine, then right back down as she ducked her head. Nothing would hide that blush, but she made a go of it.
A bittersweet tang pricked at my gut, the mix of memories of hugging and being close to Sarah, and the unforgettable reason why it’d all stopped. The loss. The grief. The choice to walk away.
“I love seeing you two together. Oh, I know you’re nottogether, of course, because wouldn’t that be crazy? Just a beautiful, mad confluence of events. Still, though. I love knowing you’re here with my Wilder so he’s not all alone all day every day, and you’re, what? Five minutes from the new bookstore and ten from Guac?”
Oh, she’s crafty.She went right for Sarah’s favorite things—or two of them, at least that I knew of. The grasping sensation that hit me whenever I thought about the details of Sarah’s life that I’d gathered up like an unwilling collector hit yet again, but I buried it when I witnessed her response.
She beamed at Mom and sent an arrow straight into my chest with the smile.
“Actually, yes. I haven’t been into the bookstore, but I love that it’s finally open! Have you been?”
My mom got this weird smile on her face. “Actually, I was going to check it out after my hair appointment. I’ve got that at one after lunch with Wilder. Would you want to join me?” Then to me, she added, “She can get off a little early for a bookstore browse, right?”
The look I gave Jane Saint was one I imagined might fell a lesser woman, but she had given me my own backbone of steel, so I couldn’t be surprised she only shot me a satisfied little grin before turning back to Sarah.
“That settles it. You’ll get off early, and we’ll go investigate this new place. Then I’ll have some new reading if my date tonight goes south.”
I choked on air. “Date?”
Out the corner of my eye, I saw Sarah bite her lip.
“Yes. Wyatt and Warrick haven’t told you I’m a woman about town?” She waved a hand like it shouldn’t make me feel a little queasy. “They’ve accepted it. So will you. I’m officially in mymid-to-latefifties, and I’m healthier than a horse. I might have another forty years to live, and I’ve spent the last thirty-some alone. I’m done being alone.”
And then her gaze found mine, and I knew this would hurt. Her expression turned serious and she said, “It’s hard to be brave and put myself out there, but I’m doing it. I’m proud of myself, and I think looking for love and companionship is noble.”
She meant the words for herself, for sure, but I felt her pressing them into me, urging me to take them for myself. She had been on me for years to find someone, to make a life. When I’d told her I was coming home to set down roots and begin the next phase of my life, she’d rejoiced. I knew this—the idea that I’d find a partner—had been at the forefront of her celebration.
She couldn’t possibly understand the barriers that my own life held regarding what she was searching for. I’d never been open to that, not since I was too young to know better and got my heart crushed in the process, both by the brutality and fragility of life and by someone I’d loved to the point of pain.
I’d let no one close since then. It hadn’t been a quest to stay away—more like a posture that had me hunched against anything other than a focus on work and maintaining the minimal amount of connection possible. Years of intensity and tragedy had developed the bond a special operations team demanded. That trust became essential in order to keep people alive and complete mission. Only through that time and experience had I ever connected with Bruce and a handful of others.
But a woman? A person I wanted? Maybe it was being here in the same room as the only person I could ever really remember wanting, but I couldn’t imagine finding someone else.
“Good for you, Mrs. Saint.”
Mom’s face cracked into a sly smile. “Come on, Sarah. You’re a grown woman now. Call me Jane.”
Sarah huffed a laugh, though something about her dimmed for a breath before she spoke. “All right, then. Thank you.”
Mom’s pleased grin swiveled back to me. “Are you ready?”
With a flourish of fingers in Sarah’s direction, she exited, allowing me to hold the door before I dipped my head to Sarah in farewell and followed her out.
“Ah, what a gorgeous spring day,” my far-too-plucky mother said, twirling around with her arms out and head up to the sky.
“What has you so cheery?”
She shot me a grin that was pure Warrick—I’d seen that exact expression on his face all my life. Or, all my life save the last twenty years. With that mental caveat, a pang of homesickness hit. That’d been happening more and more, and it didn’t make sense that I felt that more now than I had when away.
But even I could tell it was that longing to feel at home here like I used to more than simply occupying space in Silverton. Mom had argued that was all I’d done in the Army. And that would come in time.
“I just love seeing Sarah all grown up. She’s absolutely gorgeous.”
No denying it. Why deny that the sun is bright? “That she is.”
Her slightly raised brow posed her question, but she asked anyway. “You think so?”
I searched for rescue on the sidewalk ahead and to either side of us, but no help came. “You know I do. That’s why you’re so happy.”
