all mine.” They both watched as Clem stretched, then wandered towards the sounds. Allie’s eyes widened just a bit when she saw her limp away.
“What happened to her leg?” she asked, stalling for time.
“Hit by a car a few months back. Doc Harrison, the vet, called me to see if I wanted her because her owner didn’t any more. After I saw what had happened, I guess I just couldn’t let her be put down.'
“You were always nice like that,” she said, trying to relax. She looked past him towards the house. “You did a wonderful job restoring it. It looks perfect, just like I knew it would some day.”
He turned his head in the same direction as hers while he wondered about the small talk and what she was holding back.
“Thanks, that’s nice of you. It was quite a project, though. I don’t know if I would do it again.”
“Of course you would,” she said. She knew exactly how he felt about this place. But then she knew how he felt about everything- or at least she had a long time ago.
And with that she realized they were strangers now. Fourteen years apart was a long time. Too long.
“What is it, Allie?” He turned to her, but she continued to stare at the house.
“I’m being rather silly, aren’t I?” she asked, trying to smile.
“What do you mean?”
“This whole thing. Showing up out of the blue, not knowing what I want to say. You must think I’m crazy.”
“You’re not crazy,” he said gently. He reached for her hand, and she let him hold it as they stood next to one another. He went on:
“Even though I don’t know why, I can see this is hard for you. Why don’t we go for a walk?”
“Like we used to?”
“Why not? I think we both could use one.”
She hesitated and looked to his front door. “Do you need to tell anyone?”
He shook his head. “There’s no one to tell. It’s just me and Clem.”
Even though she had asked, she had suspected there wouldn’t be anyone else, and inside she didn’t know how to feel about that. But it did make what she wanted to say a little harder. It would have been easier if there was someone else.
They started towards the river and turned onto a path near the bank. She let go of his hand and walked on with just enough distance between them so that they couldn’t accidentally touch.
He looked at her. She was still pretty, with thick hair and soft eyes, and she moved so gracefully that it seemed as though she were gliding. He’d seen beautiful women before, women who caught his eye, but to his mind they usually lacked the traits he found most desirable. Traits like intelligence, confidence, strength of spirit, passion, traits that inspired others to greatness, traits he aspired to himself.
Allie had those traits, he knew, and as they walked now he sensed them once again lingering beneath the surface. “A living poem” had always been the words that came to mind when he tried to describe her to others.
“How long have you been back here?” she asked as the path gave way to a small grass hill.
“Since last December. I worked up north for a while, then spent the last three years in Europe.”
She looked at him with questions in her eyes. “The war?”
He nodded and she went on.
“I thought you might be there. I’m glad you made it out okay.”
“Me too,” he said.
“Are you glad to be back home?”
“Yeah. My roots are here. This is where I’m supposed to be.” He paused. “But what about you?” He asked the question softly, suspecting the worst.
It was a long moment before she answered. “I’m engaged.”
He looked down when she said it, suddenly feeling just a bit weaker. So that was it. That’s what she needed to tell him.
“Congratulations,” he finally said, wondering how convincing he sounded. “When’s the big day?”
“Three weeks. Lon wanted a November wedding.”
“Lon?”
“Lon Hammond Junior. My fiance”
He nodded. The Hammonds were one of the most powerful and influential families in the state. Cotton money. Unlike that of his own father, the death of Lon Hammond Senior had made the front page of the newspaper.
“I’ve heard of them. His father built quite a business. Did Lon take over for him?”
She shook her head. “No, he’s a lawyer. He has his own practice.”
“With his name, he must be busy.”
“He is. He works a lot.”
He thought he heard something in her tone, and the next question came automatically. “Does he treat you well?”
She didn’t answer right away, as if she were considering the question for the first time. Then: “Yes. He’s a good man, Noah. You’d like him.”
Her voice was distant when she answered, or at least he thought it was. Noah wondered if it was just his mind playing tricks on him.
“How’s your daddy doing?” she asked.
Noah took a couple of steps before answering. “He passed on earlier this year, right after I got back.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
He nodded, and they walked on in silence.
They reached the top of the hill and stopped. The oak tree was in the distance, with the sun glowing orange behind it. Allie could feel his eyes on her as she stared in that direction.
“A lot of memories there, Allie.”
She smiled. “I know. I saw it when I came in. Do you remember the day we spent there?”
“Yes,” he answered, volunteering no more.
“Do you ever think about it?”
'Sometimes,” he said. “Usually when I’m working out this way.
It sits on my property now.”
'You bought it?”
I just couldn’t bear to see it turned into kitchen cabinets.”
She laughed under her breath, feeling strangely pleased about that. “Do you still read poetry?
He nodded. “Yeah. I never stopped. I guess it’s in my blood.”
“Do you know, you’re the only poet I’ve ever met.”
“I’m no poet. I read, but I can’t write a verse. I’ve tried.”
“You’re still a poet, Noah Taylor Calhoun.” Her voice softened.
“I still think about it a lot. It was the first time anyone ever read poetry to me. In fact, it’s the only time.”
Her comment made both of them drift back and remember as they slowly circled back to the house, following a new path that passed near the dock.
As the sun dropped a little lower and the sky turned orange, he asked: 'So, how long are you staying?”
“I don’t know. Not long. Maybe until tomorrow or the next day.”
'Is your flanc6 here on business?” She shook her head. “No, he’s still in Raleigh.”
Noah raised his eyebrows. “Does he know you’re here?”
She shook her head again and answered slowly. “No. I told him I was looking for antiques. He wouldn’t understand my coming here.”
Noah was a little surprised. It was one thing to come and visit, but it was an entirely different matter to hide the truth from her fiance.
The gravel crunched beneath their feet as they walked. He asked: “Allie, do you love him?”
She answered automatically. “Yes, I love him.”
The words hurt. But again he thought he heard something in her tone, as if she were saying it to convince herself. He stopped and gently took her shoulders in his hands, making her face him. The fading sunlight reflected
