Wander and Roam (Wander #1) (18 page)

Sage’s eyes blink open, and he yawns. As soon as his lips close, I brush them with mine.

“What a way to wake up.” He grins. “I had the most amazing dreams last night. There was this beautiful temptress who seduced me under the moonlight.”

“Does her spell only work in the moonlight?” I run my thumb along the fragile skin between his neck and shoulder. “I wonder if it would work under the sunlight as well.”

He scoots over until a space forms between us. “Abby, I—”

With the signs of more rejection coming, it’s time to open up. “Can I try that radical honesty stuff again?”

“Are you trying to seduce me?” He props himself up on both elbows, only inches above me. “You are! First tempting me with being in the present, then your sexy talk about radical honesty.”

I ignore his jokes and sit up, crossed-legged, on his bed. “For the first time in months, maybe even a year, I feel whole again. I don’t want to isolate myself and hide away from others. Thanks to you.”

“That was all you, Abby,” he says seriously. “I didn’t make you whole. You made those changes yourself.”

“Before I met you, I was resolved to hide away with my grief. I could have done that for years or until the grief completely consumed me.” I reach for his hand, and he doesn’t pull away. “You challenged me. You reminded me that I could live again.”

“But—”

“Let me finish.” I stare right into Sage’s eyes. “You helped me heal.”

He gazes back at me. “You
have
changed. When you first came to the farm, you seemed broken. I’m
so
glad you’ve been able to rise above all that tragedy.”

“I want to pursue whatever this is between us.” I run one finger across the top of his hand. When he jerks slightly, I continue. “I know you feel the magic and the sparks just as much as I do.”

“I do, Abby, but—”

“There’s a reason you’re pulling back,” I whisper. “Tell me. Instead of shutting me out, tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

“I should.” Sage won’t even meet my eyes. “The whole time I’ve been at the farm, I’ve tried to pretend it doesn’t exist. It’s hard to start talking about something you’ve tucked away so deeply.”

Sadly, I know exactly what he means. Sage and I aren’t so different in the end.

Then it comes to me. His secret has to center on his future.

“Do you remember the day we watched the surfers?” I wait for his reaction.
Does he know where I’m heading?
“Remember how I won the favor and saved it for when I really need one?”

He slowly shakes his head.

“I’m calling in my favor, Sage.” I scoot back until I’m at the edge of his futon. “I want to know what you’re hiding from me.”

Sage bites his lip. “I keep going back and forth between what would be easier—for you, not me. Should I tell you everything or protect you by sharing nothing?”

“I want to know.”

“You deserve to know. I’m just afraid of making things worse in the end.”

What could he tell me that would be
that
bad? Why is he so worried about me?

He grimaces and rubs his temple.

“Are you okay?” I place my hand over his, so both our fingers cover his temple.

“Yeah.” He sighs. “Just a headache. They’ve been coming a lot this week.”

“I wonder if Susan has some Tylenol?”

His eyes widen. “No, we don’t need to bother her. I have some headache medicine.”

“So, about your big secret?” I hate pushing him when he’s not feeling well, but I’m so tired of not having answers.

“I’m thinking of the best way to tell you.” Sage searches through his backpack until he finds a prescription bottle. He pops open the white top and pours a single pill from the orange vial. “Would you mind if I meditated on it, and we talked tonight?”

While I’m tempted to push him to spill his secrets immediately, his request’s reasonable. Besides, it would be better to talk when both of us are at full capacity.

“Tonight?”

“Tonight. I promise.” He brushes his lips against my cheek.

W
E WALK
down to breakfast together. As we approach the covered table, the dining area sits empty. Stacks of pancakes rest upon two plates. Sage settles on one side of the table; instead of eating across from him, I sit next to him. His arm and leg brush against mine as he adjusts on the small bench.

I douse my pancakes in the fresh berries and whipping cream that Susan left then hand the containers to Sage. He waves them away and slowly slices a piece of pancake from his stack.

“Plain? What kind of health food kick is this?” I wrinkle my nose at him.

He slowly chews, still working on the first bite. “I’m not very hungry this morning.”

“You’re going to make me feel bad.” I swallow another mouthful before continuing. “I can’t resist Susan’s cooking.”

“No, I’m just… nauseous.” He pushes his plate away then rubs his temple.

“Your headache’s still bothering you?”

“Nothing I can’t work through.” He gets up, scrapes his plate, and heads toward the path. “I’m going to walk off this migraine. I’ll meet you in the orchard in an hour.”

Left to eat alone again, I take my time with breakfast. Susan had a carafe of coffee ready, and I pour a full mug of the steaming liquid. My volunteer time will be ending in two short weeks. At the very top of my list of things to miss will be Susan’s home-cooked meals. The fast food crap served at my college could never compare.

Not that I’m welcome back there.

I’ve tried to stay busy so I don’t have to think about what’s next. When I return home, right after the holidays, my parents are going to wonder why I’m not returning to school. I can’t hide it any longer. I’m done with all the deceit.

I’m finally strong enough to share how hard Robbie’s death was on me. I’m ready to start something new.

I take my last sip of coffee then set off to find Sage. The path to the orchard passes right by Susan’s house. She sits on her porch swing, rocking Zachary as he shrieks with laughter.

“Hey, little guy.” I wave to him as I pass, then watch as he swings his hand to and fro.

“Hey!” he says. “Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“Well, that’s new. He learns something every single day, it seems.” Susan watches him with an amused smile. “Heading to the orchard?”

“I’m going to collect the last of the fruit while Sage prunes the trees.”

“Don’t work too hard, Abby.” She swings Zachary once again. “I’ve noticed you put in extra hours last week.”

“No worries, I’ve enjoyed the work.” I look past Susan’s house to the view of the bay. “It’s been… healing.”

“I’ve always felt the same way about the old farm.” She smiles. “My father used to say, ‘A hard day’s work is good for the soul.’”

“I can see why you chose to stay.” I glance at the bay again. “I almost wish I didn’t have to return home in two weeks.”

“You’re ready.” Susan leans over the railing to pat my hand. “I can see the difference from when you arrived to now.”

“Thanks.” I stare at the leaves scattered along the trail, still uncomfortable with her compliments. “I’m going to look for Sage.”

The path winds past the bay then curves into a small grove of trees. I step quietly into the orchard, watching for wallabies. They gather close to the entrance. When I enter into the hollow of the orchard, fruit trees surround me. The wallabies stand alert for a moment then hop to the opposite side of the grove.

I glance around for Sage. With the amount of time I took, he should have been here long ago. The stepladder’s set up, the pruning shears lay on the ground, but Sage is nowhere to be seen.

The wallabies hop behind a cluster of cherry trees then scatter suddenly. I try to spot what startled them, but I only see a bit of blue peeking out of the grass. Not just any blue. Sage’s blue shoe.

I run across the orchard.
Please be abandoned
.

My wishes are futile, though. The shoe’s not abandoned. Instead, Sage’s entire body lies prone in the grass, shaking uncontrollably.

“Susan!” I scream as loudly as I can, hoping she’ll hear me, then fall to ground next to Sage. I place my hand on his shoulder, my trembles blending in with his body’s violent shudders. “Help! Hurry!”

I cup my palm to the exposed side of Sage’s face. “Sage, I’m here. Can you hear me?”

He doesn’t respond. His body continues to shake.

Susan bursts into the grove. “Oh, no. He’s seizing. Clear away anything he could hurt himself on.”

She pulls out her cell phone. “We need an air ambulance immediately.” Susan shares her location and other information, but I block out her words and turn back to Sage. He’s still now, but nonresponsive. Sage, normally so vibrant and full of life, lies silently upon the ground.

“Please, please, please.” My tears dot the cotton of his sky-blue T-shirt. “Sage, hang in there. Help is coming.”

“He’s stopped seizing.” Still holding the phone to her ear, Susan whispers instructions to me. “Turn him on his side. Protect his head in case he has another one.”

Another one?

Susan looks worried, but she’s not panicking. She doesn’t even seem that surprised. I mean, healthy guys don’t just go falling on the ground with convulsions.

“Abby, Sage needs our help. Place him on his side.” She mutters a few more things into the phone.

I place my hand against Sage’s shoulder once again. His firm muscles contrast with the limpness of his arm. On his side. I can do this. I need to help him. I push against his shoulder while lifting at one of his belt loops. It works. He inches up to a sideways position. I position his arm and leg so he doesn’t roll.

Susan’s listening intently, phone to her ear. “Something soft? Yes. I have something right here.”

Numbly, I take the soft bundle she hands me. Zachary’s sling. Where is Zachary?

“Place it under his head,” she directs.

I tuck the soft material under his head and neck then stroke his cheek. “Sage?” I whisper.

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t move. The familiar cocktail of panic, fear, and despair return. Something is terribly wrong.

“Abby!” Susan’s voice is sharp. She must have called me already, but it’s so hard to do anything except stare at Sage’s unmoving body.

“He
has
to be okay. I can’t lose him, too.”

Susan places her worn hands on my shoulders. She waits until I’m looking right into her eyes. “I need you to be strong. Zachary is alone at my house in his cot. He’s probably pretty distressed by now.”

All I can focus on is Sage. I try to pay attention to Susan’s words. “Zachary?”

“I have to go to the hospital with Sage. I need you to get Zachary ready and meet us at Sydney Hospital.” Susan touches my face then repeats her instructions. “I promised Sage’s mother I’d be there if anything happened.”

If anything happened? People knew
something
could happen?

“Go get Zachary. I’m calling the water taxi right now. Bob will meet you at the docks as soon as he can get out here.” Susan pulls me to my feet then turns me in the direction of her house. “Pull it together, Abby. You need to stay strong.”

Easier said than done.
How can I stay strong when I know the pain of losing someone?
She can’t expect me to turn away from Sage when he lies unresponsive on the grass.

“Get Zachary!” Susan’s sharp voice, so odd for her, forces me into motion.

As I stumble down the path, a loud whirring fills the air. I run toward it. A helicopter has just landed on the grassy clearing that overlooks the cliff.

“Which way is he?” calls a paramedic, jogging toward me with a large bag slung over his shoulder.

I point toward Susan and Sage then continue toward Susan’s.
Get Zachary. Stay strong. Get Zachary. Stay strong.
The refrain plays over and over in my mind. But the words don’t block the sharp pang of fear that radiates through my body. Sage was in terrible condition when I left him.

I left him.