CHAPTER THREE
SARAH WASN’T SURPRISED to walk from the Jetway and have her eyes drawn immediately to John, who was leaning against a pillar, looking far more relaxed than he had the last time they’d been together. Then again, this time she wasn’t shouting at him. At least not yet. And certainly not in public. If there was one thing a year in Japan had taught her, it was to publicly mute her emotions and energy. That self-control allowed her to walk right past him, as if he were invisible. An invisible person who could, unfortunately, speak.
“Where are your parents?” he asked, walking easily along beside her as if the worst day of her life had never happened.
She could refuse to respond. But that would seem petty. And also make him think he still possessed the power to affect her in any way. “They don’t know I’m coming home. I’ve been in Tokyo, teaching at the university.”
“You always wanted to teach. Though I don’t remember Tokyo being part of the plan.”
“The opportunity came up, and I thought it would be a challenge.”
“Was it?”
“In many ways. But rewarding.”
“That’s the best kind of challenge.”
“As for my parents, I wanted to surprise them for their anniversary.”
“That’ll be the best present you could give them.”
“I hope they think so.” She’d also brought gifts.
“There’s nothing that’ll mean as much to them as having their girl back home,” he said. “So, will you be returning to Japan?”
“I’ve been accepted for a PhD spot at Oxford.” Returning to Austenland. There were times when it occurred to her that life had become entwined with the author. Maybe she should write her doctoral thesis on Jane and Sarah.
“Good for you.” He sounded as if he meant it. Which she took to mean that he’d put all those years of angsty yet glorious romance behind him and moved on. They could have been two strangers who’d just met on the plane. Or acquaintances who’d happened to grow up in the same small town and bumped into each other while traveling. “Your parents must be over-the-moon proud of you.”
“They seemed pleased.” Not that they’d expected anything else. Somehow, when she hadn’t been looking, her entire life had been mapped out. She knew she’d thrown them a curveball when she’d decided to take a break from her own studies to teach for a year, but they were still envisioning her as the head of the English department at some prestigious college. Other families might consider great wealth as a sign of their child’s success. For Sarah’s parents, education had always been their daughter’s path to a life better than their own.
“I’m assuming you’ve got luggage to collect.”
“I do. Don’t you?”
“Nope. You learn to travel light in Nepal.”
“You’ve been in Nepal?” She couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d told her that he’d been circling the earth in a space capsule.
“Yep. Two years on a Peace Corps gig.”
She had to force herself not to ask if he’d planned on joining the Peace Corps the day he’d broken up with her. Because that would show she cared. Which, dammit, she did.
“That sounds interesting.” Talk about your understatements. “I assumed you’d have been working at your family’s bank.” The bank that dated back to the early 1900s and had probably financed most of the buildings in Honeymoon Harbor. Including her parents’ home and boats.
“My father assumed the same thing. As for Nepal, it was definitely interesting.” He smiled down at her, and she was momentarily distracted by his mouth, which had once caused such bliss and havoc on her body, and his summer-sky-blue eyes. She’d always found her own—a hazel color never quite deciding to go all the way to a deep, rich brown—pitifully boring in comparison. “Life-changing, as a matter of fact.”
As intriguing as that sounded, again, Sarah refused to ask.
“The reason I asked about your luggage is that I didn’t give my family any ETA because I’ve been traveling for over thirty hours now, and I figured with delays, like landslides blocking the road, which are a fairly usual occurrence, it might take two or three days longer. I told them I’d get there when I get there. So now I’m off to rent a car. Want to ride along?”
She stopped in her tracks. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Maybe because renting two cars when we’re both going to the same place is a waste of money? And because you look a little tired to be driving?”
She felt like a zombie. And feared she looked that way, too, while he could have posed for a Gap ad. Not that she cared how she appeared to him.
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“Also,” he pressed his case, “I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly rolling in bucks right now.”
“Neither am I,” she admitted. She’d been paid a good wage, but Tokyo had proved an extremely expensive city. “I’d want to split the cost.”
“Not necessary,” he said as passengers separated to move around the roadblock they were creating. “I received what they call a settle-back-in-home payment. I can cover it.”
So he was staying in Honeymoon Harbor. While she was going back to England. Their paths were simply crossing for a short time, like ships in the night. She could handle this.
“I’d be renting it anyway, so it’s no big deal. Why don’t I go arrange for the car while you get your luggage, and we can meet up at the Hertz counter.”
She was too tired to argue. “Fine.” Ending the conversation, she took off, following the signs to the baggage claim.
* * *
HE WAS WAITING for her, keys in hand, when she finally arrived at the car-rental counter wheeling a suitcase the size of a dorm refrigerator. “It’s not all clothes,” she said, feeling defensive, considering that he’d managed to live two years in Nepal out of a single backpack.
He lifted a brow. “Did I say anything?”
“No. But compared to yours, it’s gargantuan.”
“I didn’t realize it was a competition.”
“It’s not.” She dragged a hand through her travel-tangled hair. “Sorry.” How ironic was it that she was apologizing to him? “I’m tired and a bit cranky.” And hungry, since her breakfast had consisted of a gooey yellow glob that appeared to be scrambled eggs gone very wrong and a biscuit that nearly broke a tooth when she attempted to bite into it.
“Don’t worry about it. Traveling’s never as glamorous as it looks on all those flashy airline and cruise brochures. So, do you want to do the roundabout drive? Or the ferry? This time of day, with freeway traffic, it’s probably about the same amount of time.”
“You’re driving,” she said. “Why don’t you choose?”
“Because I want you to be happy.”
“Too bad you didn’t feel that way two years ago,” she shot back. Before he’d shattered her heart into a million pieces. So much for keeping her cool. Sarah held up a hand. “Ignore that. I’m over it. Really.”
“If that’s true, that makes one of us,” he surprised her by saying.
“I don’t want to talk about that day. It’s in the past. Bygones.”
“We’re going to have to talk about it.” He picked up her suitcase as if it didn’t weigh a ton. Which it didn’t, but certainly felt like it. “But you’re right. Now’s not the time. How about taking the ferry? It’s a great view coming into town, and the fresh salt air will clear both our heads.”
It was also more romantic, Sarah thought, but did not say. How many times had they sneaked out of town on the ferry to be together? Sometimes they’d just ride back and forth, holding hands as they walked around the deck. Other times they’d shared stolen kisses in the front seat of his car parked below deck. One memorable day they’d taken a ferry from Port Angeles across the strait to Victoria, where they spent the day strolling through the fifty-five acres of the stunning, century-old Butchart Gardens. While some guys might not be all that thrilled looking at flowers and plants, along with his major in business, John had minored in agriculture and horticulture.
“That sounds lovely,” she admitted reluctantly.
“The ferry it is.” Putting his hand on her back to keep them together as they wove their way through the crush of passengers lined up for cars, and heading past the shuttle vans and cabs, Sarah tried not to acknowledge how good, how right it felt to be touched by him.
Dangerous thinking, she reminded herself as he stopped in front of a beige Ford sedan.
“I have a confession to make,” he said as he made his way out of the airport and onto I-5. “I was going to wait until later, but I might as well get it out of the way.”
“What’s that?” Was she finally going to learn the truth about that day? Even though she’d insisted that she didn’t want to discuss it ever again?
“Mike told me you were in Japan.”
“Why would your brother have any interest in where I was?”
“Because when I left for Nepal, I asked him to keep track of you.”
“Why?”
“Because you were always on my mind. My entire time in the Himalayas. Every day. And every night when I dreamed of you. And yes, I also regretted what I’d done, for reasons that seemed to make sense at the time. I could have handled it better. Which is why I’m warning you that we’re going to talk about it. I just wanted you to know.”
Since there was nothing Sarah’s jet-lagged mind could think to say to that, she didn’t respond. Just drank in the sight of the tall, shaggy Douglas firs lining the highway and wondered how her parents would react to her desire to make a sea change in her life.
And even more important, how she’d deal with not just John Mannion’s reappearance in her life, but his surprising declaration.