Read Online Firefly Hollow by T. L. Haddix - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: T. L. Haddix
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Campbell-Browning property line, and to the pool of water where she felt most at home. The landscape was stark in the moonlight, monochromatic and eerily quiet. Nonetheless, it soothed her on a primitive level.
When she reached the top of the boulder where she typically sat, she hesitated. A faint rustling in the trees and brush on up the mountain had the short hairs on the back of her arms and neck standing straight up. Her hand hovered over the butt of the gun, and for the first time, she wondered if coming out had been a good idea.
Sarah stood still for several minutes, barely breathing, but she didn’t hear the rustling again. Slowly, she relaxed and dropped her arm to her side. She drew in a shaky breath, then let it out with a huff.
“You’re letting your imagination run away with you, Sarah.” She spread out her blanket and sat down. The moon was almost directly overhead, casting a new light on the pool. Sarah had never ventured out to her spot at night, and she was pleased to find it as breathtaking by moonlight as it was in the light of the day.
She stayed for over an hour, when the chill of the night finally started to penetrate her thick clothing. She was glad she’d had the foresight to bring a couple of handkerchiefs, as she’d sat and cried for most of the hour. As she left the pool, she stopped at the pool to rinse the soiled linens, using one of the wet cloths to wipe her hot face. She was still deeply anguished by the loss of her father, but the anvil of grief was finally beginning to lift. Tomorrow was going to be a challenge, and she might be right back where she’d started emotionally by the time the day was over, but progress was progress, and she’d take it where she found it.
Owen shadowed her all the way home. His heart nearly broke as he listened to her sobs. He knew what she was feeling, all too well. He’d wanted to go to her and offer her comfort, but that wasn’t really an option.
He’d heard about Ira Browning’s death. He had also heard the speculation about Sarah by the eligible, and some not so eligible, men who’d been in the hardware store earlier that day. Her attributes were discussed in lurid detail, and more than one of the local fellows were considering paying her a call. What he had not been able to discover was whether Sarah was going to be staying with her mother or going back to school in Berea.
In the three years since she’d left for college, he’d missed her more than he would have thought possible. Thus, hearing the randy bucks at the store talk about her had set his teeth on edge and put him in a snarling, black mood. He’d walked out of his house as soon as the sun went down and changed into the wolf he was most comfortable being when he was in such a state.
He hadn’t expected her to show up at the rock. That the moon was full and calling to him didn’t help. Full moons always made him more restless, and coupled with his other frustrations, Sarah’s appearance felt like something of a last straw.
Ever since he’d learned what he was, Owen’s insatiable curiosity had been turned toward collecting the tales and folklore surrounding shape shifting. He had volume upon volume of stories, fiction and non-fiction alike, and while a few of the works came close to the truth, most did not. For example, the popular belief that shifters could only change during a full moon simply wasn’t true. It had been one of the first myths Owen had taken his uncle Eli to task over.
“But the moon is there all the time, Eli. It doesn’t make sense that the full moon could affect us so much, and the rest of the time it wouldn’t.”
“You still feel the warmth of the sun, even when it’s mostly hidden behind clouds. You still see its light. It still affects the weather, right?”
“Sure, but—”
“Hang on, son. I’m not finished. So when the moon isn’t full, we know it’s there. It calls to us, pulls on us, much like it pulls on the ocean to create the
When she reached the top of the boulder where she typically sat, she hesitated. A faint rustling in the trees and brush on up the mountain had the short hairs on the back of her arms and neck standing straight up. Her hand hovered over the butt of the gun, and for the first time, she wondered if coming out had been a good idea.
Sarah stood still for several minutes, barely breathing, but she didn’t hear the rustling again. Slowly, she relaxed and dropped her arm to her side. She drew in a shaky breath, then let it out with a huff.
“You’re letting your imagination run away with you, Sarah.” She spread out her blanket and sat down. The moon was almost directly overhead, casting a new light on the pool. Sarah had never ventured out to her spot at night, and she was pleased to find it as breathtaking by moonlight as it was in the light of the day.
She stayed for over an hour, when the chill of the night finally started to penetrate her thick clothing. She was glad she’d had the foresight to bring a couple of handkerchiefs, as she’d sat and cried for most of the hour. As she left the pool, she stopped at the pool to rinse the soiled linens, using one of the wet cloths to wipe her hot face. She was still deeply anguished by the loss of her father, but the anvil of grief was finally beginning to lift. Tomorrow was going to be a challenge, and she might be right back where she’d started emotionally by the time the day was over, but progress was progress, and she’d take it where she found it.
Owen shadowed her all the way home. His heart nearly broke as he listened to her sobs. He knew what she was feeling, all too well. He’d wanted to go to her and offer her comfort, but that wasn’t really an option.
He’d heard about Ira Browning’s death. He had also heard the speculation about Sarah by the eligible, and some not so eligible, men who’d been in the hardware store earlier that day. Her attributes were discussed in lurid detail, and more than one of the local fellows were considering paying her a call. What he had not been able to discover was whether Sarah was going to be staying with her mother or going back to school in Berea.
In the three years since she’d left for college, he’d missed her more than he would have thought possible. Thus, hearing the randy bucks at the store talk about her had set his teeth on edge and put him in a snarling, black mood. He’d walked out of his house as soon as the sun went down and changed into the wolf he was most comfortable being when he was in such a state.
He hadn’t expected her to show up at the rock. That the moon was full and calling to him didn’t help. Full moons always made him more restless, and coupled with his other frustrations, Sarah’s appearance felt like something of a last straw.
Ever since he’d learned what he was, Owen’s insatiable curiosity had been turned toward collecting the tales and folklore surrounding shape shifting. He had volume upon volume of stories, fiction and non-fiction alike, and while a few of the works came close to the truth, most did not. For example, the popular belief that shifters could only change during a full moon simply wasn’t true. It had been one of the first myths Owen had taken his uncle Eli to task over.
“But the moon is there all the time, Eli. It doesn’t make sense that the full moon could affect us so much, and the rest of the time it wouldn’t.”
“You still feel the warmth of the sun, even when it’s mostly hidden behind clouds. You still see its light. It still affects the weather, right?”
“Sure, but—”
“Hang on, son. I’m not finished. So when the moon isn’t full, we know it’s there. It calls to us, pulls on us, much like it pulls on the ocean to create the
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