River's End (9781426761140) (2 page)

Sarah just sniffed.

Anna looked into her eyes again. “This is your home, too, Sarah. This is your river. Clark and I . . . and Hazel . . . and your mother . . . we all love you.”

Sarah still seemed unsure.

“Please, trust me, Sarah,” Anna said quietly. She was desperately trying to think of a plan to ease Sarah back into their world. Her old room in the house might feel too confining, too close to the rest of them. Plus, Anna knew Lauren was already in the kitchen working on breakfast. And since the summer season had just begun, the inn was full. But then Anna remembered that Hazel's cabin, the same cabin that once belonged to Anna's grandmother was unoccupied right now. Hazel was touring in Asia and wouldn't be home for a couple of weeks.

“I know,” Anna told her. “You'll stay in The Oyster.”

“Grandma Pearl's cabin?”

Anna smiled as she hooked her arm into Sarah's. “That's right. And that would make Grandma Pearl very happy!”

Some of the guests were milling around the grounds now. Some said hello and some just looked curiously at her and Sarah. She knew that Sarah looked like someone who had stepped out of a different world, almost as if she'd been living in a different era, and she knew that Sarah probably had a story to tell. And Anna certainly had plenty of questions. But not right now.

“You look tired,” Anna said as she opened the door and led Sarah into the sweet little cabin.

“I am.” Sarah went over to the table by the window that faced the river and, running a finger over the grain of the pine, looked out with a wistful expression.

“I want you to make yourself at home,” Anna told her. “If you like, I won't even tell your mother that you're here yet. You can have a shower, and I'll bring you down some breakfast and some clothes and things. You'll eat and you'll rest and then we'll talk.” She stroked Sarah's tangled hair. “Okay?”

Sarah just looked at her. Her eyes reminded Anna of a frightened doe.

Anna put both her hands on Sarah's cheeks, once again peering into those troubled dark eyes. “You are
home
, darling. This river and this inn and even this old cabin . . . they all belong to you just as much as they belong to me. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”

Sarah still looked unsure, but at least she nodded.

Anna hugged her again. “You are
home
, Sarah. At long last, you are home.” She kissed Sarah's cheek then promised to return quickly with some food. And then, feeling as if she had wings on her feet, Anna ran up to the house, with each step wondering how she would share this good news.

Anna tried to compose herself as she went up the stairs to the house. Then, halfway up, she realized it would be impossible to keep this wonderful news from Lauren. For one thing, she couldn't wipe the deliriously happy expression off her face, and besides that she felt like laughing and singing and dancing. So she turned around and went off in search of Clark. She found him at the pump house, working on a leaking pipe.

“Oh, Clark!” she exclaimed as she threw her arms around him.

“What's wrong?” He peered at her with concern.

“Nothing's wrong. Everything's right.” She quickly explained about Sarah.

“That's fantastic!” He hugged her tightly. “How is she?”

Anna's smile faded. “She looks beat up.”

He frowned. “Someone has abused her?”

“No . . . not like that. She just looks skinny and scared and—oh, that's right!” She bit her lip. “I need to get some food and clothes out to her.”

“What? Where is she?”

“I put her in your mom's cabin. Hazel won't be home until the end of the month, I thought she wouldn't mind.”

“Of course, she won't mind. She'll be as delighted as anyone to hear that Sarah is safe.”

“But Sarah doesn't want Lauren to know yet.” Anna glanced up at the house. “And I promised.”

“Well, you won't be able to keep that secret for long, you know.”

“I know.” She smiled again. “Oh, Clark, I'm so relieved—so glad to see her. And did you know—it's her birthday today.”

He grinned. “Then we'll slaughter the fatted calf. The prodigal granddaughter has come home. It's time to have a feast!”

“Speaking of feasting, I need to get her something to eat. I just hope Lauren doesn't figure me out.” She kissed Clark on the cheek. “This is a great day!” Then she turned and hurried back to the house, trying to concoct a plan to prevent arousing Lauren's suspicion.

To Anna's relief, Lauren was busy taking care of guests, and the house was bustling with activity. Anna managed to get a plate of food without Lauren batting an eyelash. “I'm taking this to a guest who doesn't feel up to coming to the house,” Anna explained. And, really, it wasn't untrue. Although Sarah was so much more than just a guest. Anna carried the food to her room, where she hurried to gather up a few pieces of clothing—something clean for Sarah to put on after her shower. Then, with the clothing tucked beneath an arm and the warm plate of breakfast in hand, she hurried back out.

The sound of water running told Anna that Sarah was still in the shower as she let herself into the little cabin. She turned the oven on low, setting the plate of food inside to stay warm. Then she opened the windows to allow some fresh air inside. Hazel hadn't stayed here since last summer. But following her Asian journey—a trip to celebrate her recent retirement from teaching—she planned to live here full time. While Hazel was in her early eighties, she still seemed younger, but Anna knew
she was slowing down. She also knew that Hazel loved this little cabin, and even if it was convenient for Sarah—for the time being—it would have to be temporary.

Still, Anna moved some of Hazel's personal things out of the way, trying to make the little cabin seem as welcoming as possible to Sarah. She even ducked outside and picked some of the wildflowers growing nearby and was just putting the vase on the wooden kitchen table when Sarah emerged from the tiny bathroom addition that Clark had built for his mother so many years ago.

“Oh!” Sarah seemed surprised, securing the soronglike towel more tightly about her as her long dark hair dripped down over her bare shoulders. Anna cringed inwardly to see Sarah's grayish skin stretched tautly over her collarbone. She looked emaciated.

“I didn't mean to startle you,” Anna said gently. “I put some breakfast in the stove for you and was just airing this room out and straightening up a bit. Hazel hasn't stayed here since last August.” Now Anna prattled on about how Hazel had recently retired from teaching at the university, and how she was now on a tour of some Asian countries.

“That sounds interesting.” Sarah's voice sounded flat and nearly void of emotion.

Anna pointed to the clothes she'd set on the chair. “I know that dress will be too big for you, but it's clean and comfortable. There are some other things, too.”

“Thank you.” Still Sarah just stood there, warily watching, almost as if she wished Anna would leave.

“I thought we could talk,” Anna said. “Why don't you get dressed and I'll make us some coffee and—”

“I don't drink coffee.”

“Tea then?” Anna suggested.

“Only if it's herbal.”

“Oh . . .” Anna nodded as she turned to open the cupboard near the stove. “Well, I'm sure Hazel must have some chamomile here somewhere.”

Sarah took the clothes to the bedroom with her, and Anna busied herself making tea. For some reason, she felt like she was treading on eggshells here, like one wrong word, one misstep, and Sarah might take off running like a scared rabbit. And so, as she waited for the water to heat, Anna prayed. She prayed for Sarah as well as for the rest of them. She prayed that this unexpected reunion would go as smoothly as possible—and that no one's feelings would be hurt. Especially Lauren's and Sarah's.

Lauren had made so many mistakes with Sarah. Even she could admit this now. But her excuse was that she'd been young, too young . . . a child parenting a child. In many ways Sarah had been more mature than her mother. Still, Lauren had started to grow up after her marriage to Donald had dis-integrated. She'd put aside many of her old self-centered ways, but although she was close to forty, she sometimes still acted in a somewhat childish way. However, Anna was patient with her. And sometimes she even blamed herself for some of Lauren's narcissistic tendencies. Perhaps if she hadn't abdicated some of Lauren's upbringing to Eunice it would have gone better.

Still, Anna knew it did no good to dwell in the past. Better to learn from your mistakes and move forward . . . trying not to make them again. The teakettle whistled, and Anna turned off the propane, filled the teapot with hot water, rinsed it around (as Babette had taught her to do long ago), then poured in the loose leaves and filled it again. Not for the first time, Anna was acutely aware of how so many parts of her life had been influenced by the women who had gone before her. How thankful she was for them.

Sarah emerged from the bedroom with her hair wrapped in a towel. Barefoot and wearing Anna's faded blue housedress, which hung on her like a sack, Sarah stood there in the doorway with a guarded expression, her arms folded across her front in a protected sort of way.

“Tea is ready,” Anna said cheerfully. She used a dishtowel to remove the warm plate from the oven. “And here is some breakfast. Your favorite.” She set the plate of hotcakes, eggs, and bacon on the table with a smile.

Sarah made a slightly disgusted look. “Bacon?”

“You used to love—”

“I do not eat the flesh of my fellow creatures.”

“Oh . . .” Anna plucked the strips of crispy bacon from the plate, tossing them from hand to hand as they cooled. Then she removed a saucer from the dish cupboard and, placing the bacon on it, set it down at the table opposite Sarah's place. “Then I'll just have that.” She hadn't eaten breakfast yet. No sense to waste good food. She pulled out the chair and sat down, waiting for Sarah to follow her lead.

Sarah almost seemed to turn up her nose as she gingerly sat down across from Anna and picked up her fork, and although she seemed uneasy, it wasn't long before she was gobbling up the food. She was obviously hungry. Half-starved from what Anna could see.

Anna watched furtively as she nibbled at the bacon, wishing she'd thought to bring down more food. Poor Sarah looked like she hadn't eaten in days . . . maybe even weeks. “Can I get you some more?” she offered finally.

“No.” Sarah firmly shook her head. “That's plenty.”

Anna nodded. “All right . . .” Still she felt uneasy, wondering why this was so difficult. How was it possible that sweet Sarah had changed so completely . . . grown so distant . . . almost to the point of hostility?

“You know our ancestors nearly starved when they were relocated to the reservation up north,” she said absently. Really, she was simply trying to think of something innocuous to say. Something safe and removed from whatever was actually transpiring in this room right now. “Your great-grandmother, Pearl, the one who built this cabin, used to tell me how hard it was for them to find food in those days.” She sadly shook her head. “Some of the men were shot for going out in search of shellfish and berries, just hoping to feed their families. If you can imagine.”

“The white men have always hated us.”

Anna frowned. “Well, that's not entirely true.”

Sarah glared at her through those dark eyes. “How can you say that?”

“Because I've known many good white men, including my own father.” She smiled. “In fact, I'm married to one.”

Sarah pushed her empty plate to the center of the table.

“I believe that fear and ignorance were the biggest problems in those days,” Anna continued. “Fear and ignorance usually lead to intolerance. That was the white man's biggest shortcoming. And, to be fair, it can be anyone's downfall. When we fall into fear, allowing ourselves to believe falsehoods about others, we eventually learn to hate.” She looked evenly at Sarah now. “But when we embrace one another's differences, when we make ourselves open to really understanding one another, then it's not so difficult to love.” She smiled. “With God's help.”

Sarah studied Anna closely, as if trying to take this in. But then she shook her head. “Some people aren't worthy of our love.”

“Really . . . ?” Anna waited.

“Some people need to be purged from our lives.”

“Purged?” Anna considered this. “And how exactly does one do this?”

“By removing themselves.”

Anna simply nodded. “Is that what you did?”

“I guess so.”

Anna took in a slow breath. “Is that how you see me, Sarah? As someone you needed to purge from your life?”

Sarah's eyebrows shot up. “Oh, no, Grandma, not you. But my mother and father—they were toxic.”

“Toxic?” Anna blinked.

“Poison. They were slowly but surely killing me.”

“Oh, Sarah,” Anna exclaimed. “I'm so sorry you felt that way. I wish you would've come to me . . . instead of running away.”

“How could I come to you?” Sarah demanded. “My mother was here with you. I had nowhere to go.”

“And that's why you left with Zane?”

“Zane . . .” Sarah slowly shook her head. “I almost forgot about him.”

“You mean you weren't with him this whole time?”

“Oh, no. Zane and I parted ways early on. He wanted to stay stoned and follow the Grateful Dead all over the country. That wasn't what I was looking for.”

“What were you looking for?”

“Peace . . . inner peace.” She sighed sadly.

“And did you find it?”

Sarah looked out the window with a longing expression. “I thought I did . . . at first.”