Authors: Hope Denney,Linda Au
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Gothic, #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Romance
She folded the paper and handed it down to Myra.
“When you see him, give this message to him. I don’t care if you read it. You won’t understand it. No one will but Sawyer.”
“I love you, Somerset. Send a telegram when you get there safely.”
Somerset dug her heels into the horse’s side and took off for Tuscaloosa. She had to get away from her mistakes, away from the impending funeral, away from the hurt she inflicted. She needed solitude to figure out who she was and what she wanted. She wanted the easy freedom of a relaxed town where no one would recognize her if she took care to be discreet.
As she rode on the dirt lanes and country paths toward town, she gazed at the tall pines on either side of the road. The spiky needles were as green as Sawyer Russell’s eyes.
The thought should have made her nervous or sad, but it was a natural comparison. Sawyer was home and when he found out she left, he would come after her.
She didn’t know what she would say to him. The words in her apology didn’t matter as much as the fact that she would be glad to look upon his face once more, the same way one is glad to see the face of long-gone loved one in a dream, even if all he did was upbraid her when he arrived.
The fact that he returned was hope that some things could be set right. The promise of better times was all she needed to sustain her until a better day arrived. They could talk on the river without the loud hustle of Orchard Rest as a spectator. They could ruminate and blame and apologize without half of Orchard Rest asking the outcome. They might walk away friends.
Somerset smiled as the horse leapt to evade a pine branch and then again over a hole in the road.
She found it in her heart to forgive Blanche, who lacked as a mother but was turning out to be sweet and complex. She loved her new sister. She understood Joseph to his core, and, despite his pain, she envied anyone knowing themselves to such a finite point. She would reach that point with herself.
And Sawyer. Poor, misunderstood, serious Sawyer.
Sawyer had come home.
The expectation of a resolution made her want to turn the horse and head home, but she resolved to press forward, to stay away from the influence and noise.
Sawyer would come for her.