The Country Guesthouse (Sullivan's Crossing #5)(31)

He grinned. “Very good, that’s how it feels.” He walked into the kitchen, grabbed Noah and lifted him. “Come on, cowboy, let’s get you situated. Hannah will get all your back seat stuff. Do you have to go to the bathroom?”

“I went.”

Owen settled Noah into his seat and kissed him on the cheeks. “Thank you for visiting me. Please visit me again soon. I’ll miss you so I’ll call you.”

“’Kay.”

Owen took the things Hannah carried and put them within Noah’s reach. She came back a second later with her small bag and her purse. She hugged him again and slid into the car. “Have a wonderful time in your travels, Owen.”

“Thank you. Be very safe and careful.”

“Of course. You, too.”

He closed the door and she pulled out of her space by the house and drove down the road. She gave the horn a little toot and heard Romeo bark. And she thought, Thank God we don’t have to face goodbye anymore. She checked the rearview mirror and saw that Noah had tear streaks down his cheeks. “You okay, buddy?” she asked.

He nodded. “I wish I didn’t have to go away from everyone I like.”

She felt the dampness of her own cheeks and decided it was best just to say nothing. They were entitled to a little cry. She drove toward Leadville.

  Owen had another cup of coffee on the porch. Romeo kept putting his big head in Owen’s lap. “We’re bachelors again, Romeo,” he said, scratching Romeo’s ears. “We’ll be fine.”

After all, he’d been fine for years. He had no one to answer to, he’d developed some wonderful pictures and collections and it was time he focused on that again.

He’d also liked their company. He’d been so surprised. You’d think in ten years he’d have met someone that made him feel connected again, but no. It wasn’t until Hannah and Noah. Either they were special or he was just ready and they were in his crosshairs.

He hadn’t wanted them to leave. Of course he couldn’t make them stay. He’d offered. He’d said, Stay longer. Take your time. You have family leave. You can sit and think. Had he said, Please don’t go? Probably not. Owen was always hesitant to push his affection or, worse, his needs on another person. Had he told her she was beautiful? He supposed not since he was a little shy. Shy and sometimes uncertain. And he hadn’t told her he’d been a father. Telling anyone about that part of his life always sent him into a panic. He could see the horrified look in the eyes of the person he told. Because it was horrifying! Not only could other people not imagine how anyone could survive that, Owen had trouble imagining that himself.

He should have told Hannah there was a reason why he picked up on Noah’s vulnerability. Their losses fit together like puzzle pieces. Not just Noah—Hannah, as well. She’d lost so much and yet managed that with such grace and strength. She was clearly struggling to figure out what her life with Noah should look like, feel like.

Ach, he was a lamebrain! Would he ever learn to tell people how he felt? Sheila used to tell him, Just say how you feel! That’s all you have to do!

He rinsed the dishes, wiped the table where Noah had slopped, looked in the refrigerator to see so much good food was left that he was certain he wouldn’t be able to eat. He went to the bedroom. She’d stripped the bed even though he told her not to bother. He picked up a pillow and held it to his nose. Oh God. How long could he preserve the scent of her?

He went back outside and sat on the porch.

What if I tell her how I feel and she falls for it, gives me a chance, and in due time she discovers I’m a dark, quiet, solitary person and she can’t live like that? What if it’s only a year and she can’t take me and my preoccupation and silence?

“I don’t know, Owen,” he said aloud, answering his own question. “Do you still get the year with her?” Because right now a year seemed like enough time to learn to be more open, more loving and emotionally available.

I’m such an idiot, he thought. He pulled out his cell phone and called her.

“Owen, I’m fine,” she said. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he said. “Where are you?”

“I’m almost to Leadville.”

“There’s a rest stop and park right before you get to town. Pull over. I’m coming.”

“Why? Why are you coming?”

“I have to tell you something! Will you wait for me? It’s very important.”

“Well...sure...but are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I’m only fifteen minutes behind you.” He disconnected.

He shuffled Romeo into the house but he had to stop and put down water for him. “Behave. I’ll be gone an hour.”

He jumped into his truck and began to drive. When he saw the speed he was going, he eased off the gas. Dying would be inconvenient. He practiced what he would say when he caught up with her and everything sounded so stupid, he had to stop. She was going to think he’d lost his mind and if she ever had a reason to run back to Minneapolis, his lunacy would be it.

Then he began to rehearse how he would behave when she explained she just couldn’t stay with him—she had things to do, things to put in place so she could be a single, working mother. He would say, “Okay, but I had to try.”