Letters from Owen Page 8

  “Aren’t you happy?” she whispered.

  He nodded and cupped her face. “More than I can tell you. It’s just… after last year… are you okay?”

  She covered his hand with hers. “Yes. I talked to Dr. Boggs about it, and he mentioned some things from last time that were probably signs.” She told him about the sickness and the spotting. “I’ve had none of that this time. He basically told me not to borrow trouble because there’s nothing we can do anyhow, but he thinks I’m fine, the baby’s fine.”

  “God, I hope so.” He gasped. “Oh, no. What we did earlier—”

  “Is perfectly normal and natural, and it didn’t hurt me. You didn’t hurt me.”

  He scowled. “I could have been more gentle. If I’d known… I’ll be more gentle in the future.”

  Sarah nipped him, then used her tongue to soothe the place she’d bitten. “You’re welcome to try.”

  The scowl deepened. “Sarah Jane…”

  She sighed. “I’ll behave. Damn it.”

  “I’ll make it worth your while, and it won’t be forever,” he murmured, then kissed her again. “I love you so much. Four babies, huh? This one’s a boy, right? I’d hate for Emma to have sisters. She needs to be a princess.”

  She laughed outright as she got to her feet. “You’re just afraid of being outnumbered, and she’s always going to be a princess regardless of whether she has sisters or not. All our daughters will be.”

  He grumbled good-naturedly as he stood. “Princess Hellion, I expect. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body, but I swear that girl lives to torment her brothers.”

  He carefully tucked the letter into its envelope, and Sarah knew he’d place it in the ornate, hand-carved box he’d purchased a couple of years back in which to store his most precious correspondence. Touched by that simple gesture, she slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder.

  “You’re such a good man, a kind man, fierce when you need to be, strong enough to need me. I’ll love you until the end of time, I do believe.” She yawned, suddenly worn out. “I’m so sorry. I think it’s past my bedtime.”

  Owen hugged her close. “Then let’s get you tucked in. Maybe I’ll even tell you a bedtime story.” He waggled his eyebrows, making her laugh.

  She pulled away, keeping their hands entangled. “Oh, really? I can’t resist that offer. How does it start?”

  He lifted her hand and kissed the back. “Once upon a time, there was a lonely man destined to live out his life forever tormented by the past and without love. Then he met a girl with sapphire-blue eyes, and the world opened up. My world opened up. You saved me, you know. I don’t think I’d have been able to stay in this world without you. I think I’d probably have shifted into the wolf one night, gone for a run, and never returned.”

  “Oh, Owen…” Her throat was tight, and she had to fight to not cry as he kissed each of her hands in turn, then embraced her. “There’s no way I would ever let that happen to you. I think I’d have known on some level, even if we hadn’t met, and the universe would have put us in each other’s path to prevent it.”

  He smiled softly. “So maybe we’re both enchanted and this is a fairy tale of some kind. Is that what you’re saying?”

  She ran her hands up his chest and wound her arms around his neck. “Something like that, only it’s worlds better because it’s real. With any luck, we have at least fifty or sixty more years with each other.”

  “Oh, no. That won’t be long enough. I’m aiming for hitting a hundred and twenty. Think we can make it?”

  She gave a soft laugh as she gazed at him, utterly content and happy. “I think we just might, and I’m looking forward to trying.”

  Rachel

  October 15, 1967

  Owen recognized the nurse who came to fetch him from the waiting room as the one Sarah had butted heads with each time she was in the maternity ward. If the sour look on the nurse’s face was any indication, she remembered him as well. Regardless of her antagonism, he followed her down the hall, unable to speak even if he tried. Aside from knowing that Sarah and the baby were all right and that she’d had a girl this time, he’d been languishing in the waiting room without news for what felt like hours. The nurse’s not-so-sunny disposition didn’t interest him in the least. Getting to his wife did.

  She stopped in front of a closed door. “She’s already talking about going home. I’ve called Dr. Boggs. You either need to quit getting her pregnant or get her to show some common sense, Mr. Campbell. It’s a pure miracle she hasn’t had complications from being so stubborn.”

  Owen didn’t dignify her statements with a response before he went past her and closed the door in her face. The curtain was drawn, blocking the view of the bed from the door.

  “Sarah?” he asked softly.

  “Here. Oh, Owen, come meet her. She’s so beautiful.”

  He stopped to wash his hands, a move that would have no doubt surprised the nurse in its caution. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Sore, tired, and groggy, but fine.”

  When he finally got around the curtain, her radiant smile punched him in the heart. “I love you so much.”

  She laughed, then winced, and extended her arms to hand him the baby. “She’s here! You’re in trouble now, Papa.”

  Wrapped in a pink blanket printed with tiny elephants, the baby felt too light to be real.

  “Is she okay? Tell me about her,” he said in a hushed voice as he sank into the chair beside the bed, not taking his eyes from his daughter. “Hello, angel.”

  Sarah sniffled, and when he glanced up, he saw that her eyes were damp. Before he could ask, she waved off his concern. She cautiously repositioned herself in the bed. “My heart’s full, that’s all. As to how she’s doing, she’s our second heaviest baby at an even seven pounds. Twenty inches long, so she matched her brothers on that but is shorter than Emma by an inch. You’ll see all her fingers and toes are as they should be,” she said as he carefully unwrapped the baby. “She’s perfect.”

  Owen sat back to look her over, inspecting her tiny feet and hands with awe and pure joy. He laughed around a tight throat as she kicked her legs vigorously and waved her arms, looking quite mad at having been uncovered.

  “There, there. I’ll tuck you in again. She’s feisty. She looks like you.” He locked eyes with Sarah, and for the first time in several hours, he felt as though he could breathe freely. “Thank you.”

  She took the hand he held out, grasping it tightly as she winced. “It’s just a cramp, not unusual,” she said through gritted teeth. “When do you think they’ll let me escape this time?”

  He studied her closely. She was as beautiful as ever, but she did look tired. The last few weeks had been uncomfortable for her, more so this time than with her other pregnancies, even with the twins. “I think you should stay tonight and see how you feel in the morning. The kids are with Eli and Amy for the next few days, and I’ll be here in town at George and Rosemarie’s tonight in case you need me.”

  Sarah narrowed her eyes at him. “Have you been talking to that sourpuss nurse?”

  He glowered right back. “She’s an idiot, but she’s not wrong about you needing rest. I think Dr. Boggs will agree this time. If you rest tonight, you should be fine in the morning, and I promise that if you are, I’ll spring you. We’ll have an old-fashioned jailbreak if you like.”

  She groaned around a chuckle. “Complete with horse and dynamite? I want to be home.”

  “I know you do.” Carefully getting to his feet, he perched on the edge of the bed and handed her the baby. Once she was snuggled in Sarah’s arms, he bent down to give his wife a long kiss. “Tomorrow, please? For me? I’ll get Dr. Boggs to agree to let me spend the night here if you will.”

  “And her? Make them leave her with us?” Concern was written on every line of
Sarah’s face. Knowing she’d always have to fight with the nurses to keep the babies with her was one of the things that Sarah dreaded most about giving birth.

  “Absolutely.” He rested his cheek next to hers. “Sweet wife, I love you so much.”

  She nuzzled him. “And I love you.”

  The baby started fussing, steady little grunts that sounded like a strong, mewling kitten.

  “She’s hungry. It’s time for her first meal.” Sarah fumbled with the buttons on her nightgown, letting her hand fall when Owen reached out to help. “Thank you. Here goes… let’s see what we get. Oooh, that’s unpleasant,” she said as the baby latched on to her nipple.

  He winced. “I didn’t realize it hurt so much. God, Sarah, I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head as she smoothed a hand over the baby’s dark hair. “It’s just for the first little bit. It helps my womb heal, and my nipples aren’t used to this, so it’s uncomfortable. We’ll be old pros in a few days.”

  The sight of his wife feeding their child overwhelmed him. Such a simple, natural thing, yet so intimate and profound.

  “I need to sketch you two,” he said in a low voice. “Once we get home, I need to put this on paper.”

  Sarah closed her eyes and leaned into his hand as he cupped her cheek. “I’ll consider that. What did my other babies say about their new sister?”

  He chuckled. “All sorts of things. John was disappointed that she isn’t a boy, and Emma wants to know if she has to share her dollies. Ben wants to meet her.”

  “My sweetest boy, he’ll dote on her. John will come around. Emma… might take some convincing.” Sarah looked up at him, her eyes weary but full of laughter. “Just as we expected.”

  “Yep. So… what do you think we should name her now that she’s here and we’ve seen her?”

  Sarah kissed his hand. “I like Rachel Mia. It’s soft but still strong. It’s a good name that will carry her through time. I know you were partial to Samantha Christine, but I don’t think it fits her.”

  “I can live with Rachel Mia. It’s a pretty name—strong, like you said. It suits her.” He touched the baby’s cheek and helped Sarah change sides. “It’s so funny how she doesn’t resemble her siblings when they were born, though I think I can see a similarity to Johnny in her.”

  “Me too.”

  Dr. Boggs came in then, and after a brief discussion, he agreed to Sarah’s terms. “I know better than to argue with you, young lady, but I am glad you’re staying here tonight. I think you need a little more rest this time around.”

  “I’ll be fully recovered by the morning,” she warned him. “You’d better be here to let me out.”

  He laughed and slapped Owen on the shoulder. “You have your hands full, sir. I’ll see you two tomorrow unless you need me before then.”

  Once he was gone, Owen looked at Sarah. “Satisfied?”

  “Absolutely.” Her eyes were heavy, and she yawned. “Your turn, Daddy. Think you can hold her while I take a nap?”

  “I’m more than happy to hold her.”

  For a long while, he sat there quietly, rocking the baby in the rocking chair, studying her sleeping face and Sarah’s.

  “Soon I’ll write your letter, little Rachel. I have to let my emotions calm first, else it won’t make any sense. My sweet daughter, I’m so glad you’re here.” He placed a careful kiss on the baby’s forehead and sighed. “What to write you, little one? Let me ponder a bit.”

  By midnight, the hospital was quiet. Rachel was tucked safely into her bassinette, and Sarah was sound asleep. Owen had closed his eyes and tried to rest, but he hadn’t been able to. The tiny lamp on the bedside table was still on, giving him enough light to see by. Deciding it was time for him to put pen to paper, he reached into his satchel and pulled out his supplies. Using Sarah’s rolling tray as a table, he closed his eyes and settled on the words he wanted to use, then he started writing.

  Sweet Rachel,

  It’s very late as I sit here in the hospital room with you and your mother. The two of you have had a busy day, and right now you’re both resting. I’m a mess, unable to sleep from all the thoughts rolling around my head, and if it wouldn’t wake you up, I’d hold you as I count my blessings.

  You’re a whopping fourteen hours old already and so beloved it would make your head spin to know. My second daughter, you’re not second place at anything other than the order of your birth. I’m overjoyed to have you here with us, and so is your mother.

  It’s a crazy, chaotic world you’ve been born into, Rachel Mia Campbell. That’s the first time since your birth I’ve written those names together, by the way. Someday, you’ll understand how significant an event that is for me.

  Regardless of what the future holds, for now I imagine you’re a bit confused. You’d gotten used to that warm, cozy place where your mother held you against her heart, and now you’re out here. An early birthday present for me, to be sure. You jumped ahead of me by a week, but that’s all right. I couldn’t ask for anything better than for you and your mother to be here, happy and healthy.

  When you come home with us, you’ll meet your brothers and sister. I expect you’ll be less awed by them than they will be by you, at least initially. We’re a close-knit little family, your mother and siblings and I, and we welcome you into our fold with open arms. You tipped our numbers into dangerous territory, you know—I’m outnumbered. True, if one splits our numbers evenly, it looks like a fair democracy. Six of us—three boys, three girls.

  The reality is that you girls have us gents outweighed and overwhelmed in every sense. Unless your mother and I try again and have another boy, I fear I am in for a giggling, girly ride as you and your sister grow up. As my nerves couldn’t handle another pregnancy, I think I’ll stick with my current odds.

  Your brothers and I will just have to hold on and build lots of forts and play with lots of soldiers and toy trucks to compensate. I’ll do my best to keep them from hiding snakes and frogs in your bed and your sister’s, but I suspect I might do better to keep Emma from being the antagonist in that respect. She has a morbid fascination with bugs and the like, much to John and Ben’s disgust. We might be in for a bit of a bumpy ride, especially if you take after her.

  I’ll let you in on a secret—just like I told Emma in her letter when she was born, I wouldn’t change a thing. I adore my daughters, both of you.

  You, Rachel Mia, look just like your mother. As the hours wore on today and some of your wrinkly appearance started to fade, the likeness became more and more apparent. That probably means, if you continue to resemble her so strongly as you grow, that you’ll have me at your mercy with just a smile. That’s something else I wouldn’t change—a man should be smitten with his children, don’t you think? I certainly am with your siblings.

  You’re getting fussy and your mother is stirring, so I’d best close for now and help the two of you. Before I go, however, I want you to know how much I love you, how I’m looking forward to getting to know you as you grow. I never thought my world would be so full of love in such a short period of time, the seven years since I’ve come to know and love your mother, and I’m glad to share that world with you. Welcome to my heart.

  With deepest love,

  Your father

  June 12, 1969:

  One

  “I think I finally got them all to sleep,” Owen said, coming downstairs for the third time in thirty minutes. “Little rug rats, they’re excited about the trip, and they won’t settle down. You’d almost think it was Christmas or something.” He wrapped Sarah in a hug.

  Tomorrow, they’d be leaving for their annual month-long vacation in Savannah, where Sarah’s mother and sister lived. Jack and Gilly and their two kids were going as well, though they wouldn’t be able to stay as long.

  She grinned. “Who was it this time, Ben or Emma?”

  “O
h, no—it was your oldest child. The twins are sound asleep, thank God. Johnny was wondering if we’d be better off flying down to Georgia. I hated to disappoint him. The boy has his head in the clouds these days. I think he wants to be a pilot this week.” He dropped a kiss on her mouth. “What else needs doing before we turn in for the evening?”

  Her answer was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Owen frowned and glanced at his watch—it was nearly nine thirty.

  “Jack and Gilly, do you suppose?” he asked as she moved to the table in the hall to answer it.

  “Probably. Hello? Oh, hi, Trent. No, he’s right here. Is everything okay?” Her eyes closed, and she braced a hand against the wall under the stairs. “Oh, no. I… here’s Owen.” She shook her head as she handed him the phone, her eyes filling with tears. “There’s been an accident.”

  Owen held his arm out for her as he accepted the receiver. “Trent?”

  For as long as he lived, he’d never forget the stunned flatness of his cousin’s voice. “Noah and Greg were in a wreck tonight. Greg’s in the hospital, but Noah… he didn’t make it.”

  “What? Oh, God. No...”

  The boys were Owen’s uncle Eli’s youngest sons, twins, just barely twenty-two. They were identical, full of mischief and sweet troublemaking, and the notion that one of them was gone was inconceivable.

  “Mom and Dad are in a pretty bad way. Can you come? Not tonight since it’s so late, but maybe tomorrow?” Trent asked.

  Sarah, who was standing next to him and listening tensely, nodded. “We’ll make it work.”

  “Of course we’ll be there,” Owen said, his voice gruff. “God, I’m so sorry. Where do you need us? At the farm or what?”

  “I imagine that’s where everyone will congregate.” Trent sighed. “I know you all were leaving tomorrow for Georgia. I’m sorry.”