Butterfly Lane Page 2

  Rick rubbed his arms, and Noah could see the gooseflesh that had sprung up. “Sure hope she knows what she’s talking about.”

  Chapter One

  August 1970…

  John David Campbell met the girl who was to become his wife for the first time when he was nine years old. He’d just finished pulling his sister Emma off a playground bully. At seven, Emma was tall, and she was strong for a girl. Having two brothers to roughhouse with had seen to that. So John had his arms full of angry female by the time the teachers came running up, chattering their dismay.

  “Emma, what were you thinking?” Mrs. Nelson chided as she helped the boy Emma had been fighting with to his feet. Blood streamed from his nose, running into his mouth and down his chin to drip onto his shirt and the playground dirt. From the glare in Burke Lockhart’s eyes, John figured his sister had made an enemy for life.

  “I was thinking that he should pick on someone his own size, and I was going to oblige him,” Emma snarled, still struggling with John. “Let me go, Johnny.”

  “Cool it. And I ain’t letting go with you still hopping mad. Mom and Dad would ground us both if I did,” John muttered in her ear.

  Not until after Mrs. Nelson had escorted Burke off the playground, a surly Emma behind him with a second teacher, did John spy his brother, Ben. Ben and Emma were twins, two years younger than John. Off to the side of the playground, Ben was sitting on the curb next to a tiny, curly-haired girl whose knees were scraped and bloodied. With one last glance toward the building, John crossed under the swings to where Ben was sitting, trying futilely to dry the small girl’s tears.

  “What’d Burke do this time?” John didn’t hide his exasperation as he studied his brother’s concerned face. “And why weren’t you keeping Em off of him? He could have hurt her.”

  “Because he deserved what he got. That’s why. And she had him handled. Besides, somebody had to take care of Zanny.”

  John rolled his eyes at the devotion in Ben’s voice. The girl, who’d thus far kept her gaze on the ground in front of her, raised her face. A fat tear rolled down her cheek, and she swiped at it with the back of a grimy hand, which was also scraped. Scowling, he hunkered in front of her and took her hand in his.

  “Did Burke do this?”

  She nodded, her curls bouncing, but she didn’t speak. Her hand was trembling in his, and she looked miserable. No wonder, with her hands and knees all torn up. John felt some of his frustration with his sister melt into concern for the girl. After all, it hadn’t been too long ago he’d been little like her and getting scraped up, well, it hurt.

  “We need to get you to the office, get these cleaned up. Besides, somebody’s gotta sit with Emma. Make sure she doesn’t try to take Burke’s head off again.”

  With Ben on one side and John on the other, they got Zanny up and started walking toward the school. “Where’s your teacher?” John asked. “She ought to be here.”

  “I don’t know,” came the ragged whisper. “I’m in Miss Hammonds’s class.”

  “Zanny’s our new neighbor,” Ben piped up. “Her granny is old Mrs. Franks. Zanny’s living with her now.”

  That explained a lot. Mrs. Franks was a nice lady who lived in a trailer next to John’s Uncle Jack and Aunt Gilly, at the foot of the mountain where John’s family lived. From the whispers and quiet conversation he’d overheard, he knew that Mrs. Franks’ son was getting divorced. If Zanny was living with her grandmother instead of her mom or dad, things had to be bad at home.

  “Then I guess we’d better look out for her, huh, Ben? Since she’s on the holler and all.”

  Ben grinned at him with approval over Zanny’s head. “Guess so.”

  Once they got Zanny turned over to her teacher, who had been tied up with a phone call, John settled down next to his sister. Emma was sitting on one of the colorful chairs outside the principal’s office, idly swinging her feet back and forth. There was no sign of Burke, for which John was grateful.

  “Is Zanny okay?” Emma asked.

  John picked at a spot on the knee of his jeans. “Yeah. Just scraped up a bit.”

  “He shoved her, Johnny. I couldn’t let him get away with it. She doesn’t have anybody to look after her.”

  “I know. Ben said.”

  Emma glanced up at him then back down at her feet. “How mad do you think they’ll be?”

  John shrugged. “Dunno. This is the second fight, and school’s just been started a couple of weeks. I reckon you’ll be in trouble.”

  The sigh that left Emma’s body seemed to take all the piss and vinegar with it. “I know. And Daddy will get that look on his face. You know the one.”

  John did. It was the disappointed look, which was ten times worse than the angry one. None of the Campbell kids wanted to see it. Even though he was old enough to start to not be a baby so much, John would walk over hot coals to avoid disappointing Owen Campbell. He knew his siblings felt the same way—at least Ben and Emma. Rachel was still too young to understand what the look meant.

  When Emma sniffled, John reached over and awkwardly put his arm around her shoulder. His face was hot, and he prayed none of the other kids would come along and see, but he couldn’t let his sister cry.

  “They’ll understand once you explain it, Em.”

  “Think so?”

  “Yeah.”

  They stayed that way, John’s arm around Emma’s shoulder, until the outside door opened up at the end of the hall. Even though the sun was too bright for them to see the face of the person who had come in, John recognized their father’s tall form. Hands on his hips, Owen stopped in front of them and stared. Emma’s feet stopped swinging as though someone had turned off the motor that was running them, and she held perfectly still, her head lowered.

  Even though he wasn’t the one in trouble, John swallowed and looked up. Concern warred with disappointment on their father’s face. John tightened his arm around Emma’s shoulder.

  “Emma Jean Campbell, look at me.”

  Very slowly, Emma did. She was biting her lip—a habit she had when she was in trouble or thinking hard, which meant she did it a lot.

  “Young lady, what in the world am I going to do with you? Are you okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Owen raked his hands through his hair, then squatted in front of them. “Your mother is so much better at this than I am. She always knows what to say. Tell me what happened.”

  Emma did. “I couldn’t just let him hurt her, Daddy. She’s an itty bitty girl. He pushed her hard.”

  “You could have told his teacher.”

  “She won’t do anything. Burke’s daddy works for the power company, and she’s sweet on him.”

  Owen’s eyebrows shot up, and he smoothed his hand over his smile. “Okay. I’m going to talk to the principal. You two stay here.” As he stood, he pressed a kiss to Emma’s forehead, then ruffled John’s hair. “Where’s Ben?”

  John answered. “He went back to class, sir. I figured I’d better stay here with Emma.”

  After a few minutes, Emma’s teacher, Miss Hammonds, came out of the office with Zanny, whose hands and knees were bandaged. “John, we need to talk to Emma. Will you stay with Suzanna until your father comes out?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Zanny took the seat Emma had vacated. She was so small that her legs stuck straight out when she sat. John studied her.

  “So your name is Suzanna?”

  She nodded. “Suzanna D’lores. My grandma calls me Zanny.” She had a slight lisp, probably thanks to the missing two front teeth on the top. “I didn’t mean to get Emma in trouble. Will your mama and daddy be mad?” She raised her hand as though to suck on her thumb, but lowered it just before she put it in her mouth.

  “Nah, not really. Emma gets in t
rouble a lot. Dad calls her a hellion. It means she’s unruly.” When Zanny’s brow wrinkled in confusion, John tried again. “She just gets in trouble a lot. We’re kinda used to it.”

  “My daddy woulda been mad. He woulda yelled. You must have a special daddy.”

  Even as young as he was, John felt a pang of alarm in his chest, as well as gratitude that his parents were the people they were. “Mom and Dad are both special. You’ll see. You’ll meet them both eventually, I reckon. Us being neighbors and all.”

  By the time Owen and Emma came out of the office, it was almost time for school to let out. John still hadn’t seen anything of Burke, and he wondered briefly what had become of him, but he didn’t worry about it too much.

  “I’ll send Ben along in a minute, Mr. Campbell. Emma, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Miss Hammonds smiled. “You, too, Suzanna.”

  Emma hurried over to sit next to Zanny. “You’re going home with us. Daddy talked to your granny on the phone, and she said it was okay. We’ll walk you home when we get there, ’cause we live on top of the mountain.”

  Zanny raised her hand to her mouth, and nibbled on the side of her thumb. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

  “Absolutely,” Owen reassured her. “We might even stop at the dairy bar and get some ice cream, if you like. John, why don’t you go get your books? As soon as your brother gets here, we’ll head out.”

  The stop at the dairy bar took a little time, but the ice cream worked its magic. By the time his father pulled the car into the driveway, Emma was giggling with Zanny in the backseat as though they’d been friends forever, the tempest of the day forgotten. John knew Emma’s reprieve was only temporary, though, when he saw his mother stand up from a rocking chair on the front porch. He exchanged a look with Ben as they got out of the car.

  Owen held the back door open for the girls. “Emma, introduce Zanny to your mother, please.”

  Emma did, wrapping her arm around Zanny’s shoulders much the same way John had with her earlier. “Burke pushed her down, and she got hurt, Mama.”

  “I see that. Do you need those wounds looked at, sweetie, or did they take care of them at school?” Sarah Campbell brushed Zanny’s curls back off her forehead.

  “I’m okay. Thank you.”

  “Well, as much as I’m sure Emma would like you to stay so the two of you can play, I think we’d better get you down the hill. Your granny will worry if you’re much longer. But you can come back another day.”

  “Tomorrow?” Emma asked, excited. “We could—”

  Sarah raised a hand, and Emma shushed. “Not tomorrow. You’re in a little spot of trouble, young lady. But soon. I promise.”

  Emma accepted the words with only a little pout. “Okay.”

  “Here. I brought you a peanut butter milkshake.” Owen kissed Sarah lightly. “I’ll take this merry band of minstrels down the hill, run some of the energy out of them. Then you and Emma and I will sit down and talk.”

  “Rachel and I will hold down the fort.” Sarah gestured to the baby toddling around the flower beds in pursuit of a butterfly. John and Ben started toward the path that led down the hill, and as John glanced back over his shoulder, he saw his father bend down for a longer kiss, letting his hand come to rest on his mother’s belly. By the first of the year, they would add another member to the family.

  As Emma and Ben started down the path that led to the bottom of the mountain, they chattered to Zanny about the woods around them. John hung back and waited for his father. When he caught up, Owen laid a hand on John’s shoulder and squeezed. John thought about what Zanny had said earlier about his parents being special. They were very special, indeed.

  Chapter Two

  Christmas 1980…

  When John opened the door to the family farmhouse, the noise was overwhelming. Holiday music blared out of the back of the house, the traditional carols blending inharmoniously with the rock-n-roll tunes coming from upstairs. The air was scented with pine, vanilla, cinnamon, and brown sugar, and it felt so much like home that John felt a lump rise into his throat. Christmas was a few days away, and he would be able to spend most of the winter break with his family before heading back to school. Even though he was enjoying discovering his independence, he was glad to be home.

  Rachel and Amelia raced down the stairs, screaming. Ben, who was wielding what appeared to be a plastic snake, was chasing them. When Amelia saw him, her eyes lit up, and she ran to him, forgetting Ben and the snake. The almost-nine-year-old threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

  “Johnny, you’re home!”

  “Hey, pipsqueak. What have they been feeding you? I swear, you’re two inches taller than you were at Thanksgiving.”

  Ben hesitated, looking for Rachel, who had gone down the hall in the direction of the kitchen. He shrugged and came toward the front door. When he was close enough, John reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into a loose headlock.

  “Aren’t you too old to tease your sisters like that?” John knuckled Ben’s head as he spoke, noting the irony of his own actions.

  “I’m never going to be too old to do that,” Ben answered, easily breaking free. “Mom was worried you wouldn’t make it in before the snow.”

  “Nah, I had plenty of time.”

  Amelia wasn’t the only one who’d grown. At seventeen, Ben was nearly as tall as John, though he wasn’t as lanky. Seeing his brother as a nearly grown man was jolting. “Where are the parents?”

  “I’m here. Where’s my hug?” Sarah asked, coming down the hall, a wide smile on her face.

  “Right here.” John scooped her up in a bear hug, planting a big, smacking kiss on her cheek. “Mama, you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

  “And you are just full of flattery. Let me look at you.” John sat her on her feet, and she stood back, studying him with a mother’s eye. “Are you eating enough? You look thin.”

  “I’m fine. And it isn’t flattery if it’s the truth. Where’s Dad?”

  “In his studio. Rachel went to get him. Take your coat off and come on back, get something warm to drink.”

  As they started down the hall, Emma ran lightly down the stairs. “John Campbell! You’re here!”

  John waited at the bottom of the stairs, and she jumped the last two steps to throw her arms around his neck in a hug so tight, John couldn’t breathe.

  “Em, you’re strangling me.”

  She immediately loosened her grip, but the tightness in his chest didn’t improve. John barely heard her cheerful, “Sorry.” His eyes were locked on the pretty, quiet young woman coming down the stairs. He was on the verge of asking his sister who her friend was when he recognized her.

  “Zanny?”

  Her mouth moved into a soft smile. “Hi, John. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” he replied automatically, his mind blank. He realized he was staring when Emma snorted with laughter from beside him. He tore his gaze away from Zanny to scowl at his sister.

  “Surely it hasn’t been so long since you’ve seen her that you don’t recognize her, Johnny.”

  “Of course I recognized her. It just took me a minute. She’s changed a little since I saw her last. You went and grew up on me,” he told Zanny. As much as he tried, he couldn’t hide his shock. The curly-haired tomboy who’d helped Emma run him and Ben ragged had been replaced by a composed, attractive young woman. Dark lashes framed her hazel eyes, which were greener than he remembered them being. Her lips were soft and pink, and glancing at the curves her sweater and jeans hinted at, he swallowed. He needed a distraction right away. Fortunately, Rachel came in with their father just then, and John eagerly hurried to greet them.

  After another round of hugs, Sarah claimed his arm. “Come on, let’s get you some hot cocoa and cookies.”

  John grinn
ed down at her. “Mom, I’m not twelve anymore.”

  “Does that mean you don’t want the cocoa and cookies?”

  “Heck, no.”

  Sarah laughed. “I didn’t think so.”

  Later that night, with all the kids in bed and the house finally quiet around them, Sarah climbed into bed and snuggled eagerly into the warmth of Owen’s arms.

  “You’ve been quiet all evening,” he commented. “Everything okay?”

  “Mm-hmm. Just thinking. I wish you could have seen John’s face when he saw Zanny for the first time. You know, he didn’t see her at Thanksgiving, what with her grandmother being so sick. She’s changed quite a bit since last summer.”

  Owen’s hand, which was drifting lazily across Sarah’s shoulders, paused. “You think he’s attracted to her? Zanny?”

  “She’s a very pretty young woman. And yes, I think seeing her hit him like a ton of bricks.”

  She could almost feel Owen’s scowl in the dark. “Is that something we need to worry about?”

  “I don’t think so,” she mused, tracing the planes of his chest with her fingertips. Even though they’d been married twenty years, one look, one touch from Owen still set her pulse racing. “I think they might be a good fit for each other. It’ll be interesting to see how it plays out.”

  “They’re too young. John’s only nineteen. Hell, Zanny’s still in high school.”

  “Of course they’re too young, at least for now. But they won’t always be. And they’re both very mature for their ages. What with John being the oldest child and Zanny taking care of her grandmother the way she has…”

  Owen raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss into her palm. “Do you think we put too much weight on his shoulders?”