“And does he care for you, too?”
“Yes.”
“So …?”
“He’s not the kind of man I want to marry.” Fresh tears flooded her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “He’s a wanderer, with no home and no job.”
“But you love him anyway.”
And that was the problem, Sara thought. She did love him.
Chapter 30
Travis woke with the setting of the sun. Knowing that Ronan had gone home left him with a peculiar emptiness inside, which he thought was almighty strange considering there was no love lost between them. And yet … it had felt right to be with his sire. It was a feeling he intended to examine more closely at some other time. Right now, he needed to see Sara, to know she was safe.
He had spent the night in the hospital morgue. Located in the basement, it had escaped the worst of the fire. He washed in one of the sinks, then willed himself to Winona’s house.
At his knock, she answered the door. “Come on in, Travis.”
He puzzled over the blank expression on her face as he followed her into the living room.
Overstreet sat on the sofa wearing the same impassive expression.
Travis was about to ask what was wrong, but it wasn’t necessary. Without asking, he knew that Sara wasn’t in the house. Nor was she anywhere in town.
“She went home,” Carl said. “I drove her to the airport this morning. Lucky for me, when the vamps were burning everything, they missed my truck.”
Travis dropped into an easy chair covered in a blue-and-brown plaid. “Did she leave anything for me? A note? A message?”
Overstreet shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
Travis nodded. When he’d left Sara last night, he had fully intended to walk out of her life and never look back. They had no future together. Apparently, she had come to the same conclusion. He couldn’t blame her for leaving town. There was nothing for her here now. No doubt she had gone back home to settle down with Dilmount or whatever the hell his name was.
Jealousy rose inside him like bile, leaving a nasty taste in his mouth and the urge to kill any other man who would dare touch her.
“Travis?” Carl shot a worried glance at Winona as a wave of preternatural power flooded the room. “Hey, Travis? You okay?”
Hands clenched, he nodded. She was better off without him. He wished he could say he was better off without her, but he feared that, without her sweet influence in his life, he might someday become the kind of remorseless monster he had once hunted.
Sara spent her first two days at home shopping for new clothes, shoes, a handbag, and a new cell phone. She went to the DMV and reported that her driver’s license had been lost and requested a new one, then spent two hours on the phone with the company she had leased her car from trying to explain what had happened to it. They seemed reluctant to believe someone had set it on fire but said they would send someone to pick it up. She learned her house in Susandale had belonged to the vampire community, so she didn’t have to worry about notifying anyone about its loss.
She spent her evenings at home with her mom and dad.
Her parents didn’t waste any time spreading the word that their daughter was home again. By the end of the week, her mother had put together a welcome home party for the following Saturday night and invited all of Sara’s friends. It wasn’t something she was looking forward to. Her mother seemed to think a party was just what Sara needed to chase the blues away. She huffed a sigh. Why couldn’t her mother understand that she just wanted some time alone?
Time to think.
Time to forget.
It was only at night, when Sara was alone in her room, that she let herself think about Travis, remembering the color of his eyes, the sound of his voice, the way it had felt so right to be in his arms, the touch of his lips on hers. She hadn’t known him very long, or very well. How could she miss him so desperately when so much of their time together had been anything but normal?
Going to her bedroom window, she stared out into the darkness. Had Travis stayed in Susandale? Had she done the right thing in leaving him without a word? Would saying goodbye have made it easier for both of them?
Harder?
Or just impossible?
Saturday night came all too soon. The backyard looked like a fairyland. Colorful paper lanterns were strung around the yard. Her mother had hired her favorite caterer, along with a DJ. Round tables covered with crisp white linen cloths had been set up on the patio. A long table held drinks – everything from lemonade and soda, to mixed drinks and champagne. Another table held finger foods and desserts—individual pies, cupcakes, cream puffs, strawberry tarts, various meats and cheese.
Sara stood in front of the mirror in her room, trying to summon a modicum of excitement and failing badly. She brushed her hair, applied a bit of blush and her lipstick, took a deep breath and went downstairs to help greet her guests.
Travis stood in the deep shadows in a far corner of Sara’s backyard. Perhaps fifty people of various ages milled around the covered patio. Dinner was over and couples danced on the patio, or clustered in small groups, talking and laughing.
But he had eyes only for Sara. Wearing a yellow and white sundress, her hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders, she looked more beautiful than ever.
