Page 102 of A Soldier's Return

Sage hugged her back. “You’re very welcome. I’ll see you in the morning, okay? Don’t forget your raincoat. We’re in for some nice Oregon sunshine. That means rain, by the way.”

Chloe giggled, then slipped her hand in her father’s.

Though Anna and Conan stayed in her apartment, Sage followed them outside. The rain had nearly stopped and only a light drizzle fell.

On the porch, she stopped, feeling as awkward as if they’d been on a date. That stunning, gentle kiss in her apartment seemed to shimmer through her mind and she couldn’t seem to think of anything but his warm mouth and his strong, hard arms around her.

Though Chloe ran ahead and climbed into the back seat of the Jag, Eben paused and met her gaze, the recessed porch lights reflecting in his eyes. He grabbed her hand, his fingers enfolded around hers. “Thank you again for taking Chloe later than you planned, and for dinner and everything.”

“You’re very welcome. She was no trouble.”

“Only because you’re amazing with her.”

Sage shook her head, slipping her hand from his, needing the safety of physical distance from him even as her emotions seemed to tug her ever nearer. “I find her a joy. I told you that.”

“I’ll be ready in the morning to run with Conan.”

“I promise, I won’t hold you to that. I was joking.”

“I’m looking forward to it. This morning was wonderful and I’d love a repeat. The, uh, run I meant.”

She was certain if the light had been brighter she would have seen faint color on his features. Somehow his discomfort over their unexpected kiss charmed her beyond measure.

She didn’t need to spend more time with him or with Chloe. Both of them were already sneaking their way into her heart. More time would only make their departure that much more difficult. She already dreaded thinking about when they left Cannon Beach.

“Don’t count on it,” she answered. “If I’m lucky, my furry alarm clock will sleep in tomorrow.”

“I’ll be waiting if he doesn’t.”

Without another word, he turned and hurried down the steps into the drizzle.

Chapter Eight

Long after the car drove away, headlights reflecting on the wet streets, Sage stood on the porch of Brambleberry House, hugging her arms to her against the evening chill and worrying.

She had to find it in her heart to push them both away. That was the only solution. Her emotions were too battered right now, raw and aching from Abigail’s death.

She wasn’t strong enough to sustain another devastating loss. That’s what it would be, she feared, if she let them inside any farther. She was afraid she would find it entirely too easy to fall for both of them. Already she was halfway to being in love with Chloe, with her sweet eyes and her quirky sense of humor and her desperate eagerness to please.

She sighed as an owl called somewhere in the distance, then Sage opened the door into the house.

She expected Anna to be cloistered in Abigail’s apartment by the time she returned. Instead, she found her waiting in the foyer, one hand absently rubbing Conan’s head. She looked softer, somehow, more approachable—perhaps because she’d changed out of her work clothes while Sage, Eben and Chloe had been upstairs having dinner.

She should have invited Anna to join them, she thought, ashamed of herself for not thinking of it.

“Thank you for the whole doll thing,” she said. “It seemed to be a big hit with Chloe.”

“I probably should have talked to you first about giving her one before I suggested it to her. I know what you said the other day about the collection staying together. Technically, they belong to both of us and they’re not really mine to give away.”

Would she ever escape the complexities of that blasted will? “Despite what you might think, I honestly don’t want to hoard all of Abigail’s things forever, to freeze everything in the house just as it is and never alter so much as a nail hole.”

“I know you don’t,” Anna said stiffly. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression I thought otherwise.”

Sage sighed. “I’m sorry to be short with you. This is all so awkward, isn’t it?”

Anna was quiet for a moment. “I know you loved Abigail deeply and she felt the same way about you. There was an unbreakable bond between the two of you. Everyone could see it. I understand how painful her death is for you. Believe me, I understand. Maybe you loved her longer but... I loved her, too. I miss her.”

Guilt lodged in her throat at her weeks of coldness toward Anna, at her ridiculous resentment—as if it were Anna’s fault they found themselves in this tangled arrangement.

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