Chapter 33: The Log Cabin

It was awkward going to see Sawyer, but Stephanie was determined to make things right. She had a brother, and he was legally an heir to the family fortune. It was disturbing to know that she was adopted—the daughter of a monk. It wasn’t about the money. It was about skeletons in the closet that had been hidden away for too long. Hedy had always told her that the sins of the fathers—would carry on from generation to generation if not set right.

 Sawyer was felling trees near her old cabin, and she could hear the ax hitting its mark—the sound echoing through the valley as she drove her SUV along the cow path. 

 Anger had made her pick up the phone and call Thomas this morning. He had sounded pained, but she couldn’t muster up sympathy to make him feel better. It was over and they both knew it. She’d been curt and precise.

“I hope you’ll be happy,” she said. “Now I need to talk to Sawyer.”

“He’s at the old cabin on your land, felling trees. Maybe Daniel didn’t tell you. I take care of the property for Daniel.”

“I need to pay you,” Stephanie said curtly. “I also owe you for boarding Thunder. Send me an invoice.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I want to do it.”

“This is business, Thomas. I pay my own way.”

“Don’t treat me like this, Stephanie. You don’t know what happened.”

“I think I do,” she said bitterly.

“I need to talk to you, Stephanie,” he said with a firm voice. “There are rumors circulating that are not true.”

Stephanie slammed down the phone.

Stephanie was pleasantly surprised when she arrived at the cabin. It was neat and clean. It puzzled her when she put a bottle of water in the refrigerator, and found what looked to be a rabbit, cut up and marinating in brine, and a six-pack of beer. She guessed it was Sawyer’s. 

She found some sassafras herbs in the cupboard and made a cup of tea. The first taste was bitter, but she swallowed it. Then she trudged out to the side of the house and waved, trying to get Sawyer’s attention. 

Sawyer saw her and waved back. She gestured for him to come to the house.

Stephanie thought, his look uncertain as he neared.

“I hope you don’t mind—Emily gave me permission to stay here while I’m felling trees. She said no one has stayed here since your grandmother died.”

“Stay as long as you like,” Stephanie said with a smile. “Thomas told me you were here. We need to talk.”

“I’m starved. Can we do it over dinner? I’m frying up a rabbit for dinner.”

“Sure, what can I do?”

“Maybe you could flour the rabbit while I shower,” Sawyer said. “I’ve been felling trees since five a.m.”

Stephanie quickly floured the rabbit and once she it started browning in a cast iron skillet, she went outside and picked wild flowers. After arranging the bouquet in a white pitcher, she lit a candle. Then went down to the cellar and found a bottle of red wine.

“Smells mighty homey,” Sawyer said as he strode into the kitchen, his dark hair wet, smelling fresh of Ivory soap.

“Setting the mood,” Stephanie said. 

“For what?” Sawyer asked, raising his brows.

“It’s just what girls do when they’re about to have dinner with someone special,” she said, feeling a flutter of anxiety creeping in. He was too good looking, standing there all fresh, his muscles bulging through his t-shirt. She was staring. She dropped her eyes, reminding herself she was back with Richard. What was she thinking?

“It’s only rabbit, Steph. Nothing fancy,” Sawyer said, going to the stove and turning the rabbit with a fork.

“I like rabbit,” she said, swirling her glass of wine. “My grandmother used to fix it.”

Sawyer popped a beer and took a swig. “You’re not making a move on me, are you? To be honest, I saw you last night with Richard in the lawn.”

Stephanie was taken aback. “What do you mean? How much did you see?”

“I saw it all. I was behind the oak tree.”

“Behind the oak tree?”

“Yes, the lion dropped you not more than a foot from me. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The sorceress told me that a witch from another kingdom said that you’d be coming back on a lion’s back. I didn’t believe her until I saw it for myself.”

Stephanie’s heart was thundering. The lion had dropped her next to Sawyer—not Richard. Richard had been in the house. Did she dare tell him?

“What’s this about anyway?” Sawyer asked. “If it’s about the letter—I want you to burn it. I don’t want your father to know that I’m his son. It’s water over the dam.”

Their attention was drawn to a shuffling sound and when she looked up, her father stood in the doorway.

Stephanie tried to regain her composure as Daniel pulled out a worn wooden chair and sat down next to Sawyer. “Looks cozy,” he said, his dark eyes hard. “Flowers, wine. Would you like to explain what you’re doing here with an accused murderer?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll be going,” Sawyer said as he hung his head and stood up. “This wasn’t planned. I was felling trees for Thomas Shrock, and Emily told me I could stay here for a few days while I’m working.”

Daniel nodded, “Sit down,” he ordered. “I overheard something that I don’t understand. What’s this about a letter, and you being Stephanie’s brother? Are you an impostor?”

“I should go,” Sawyer said, his voice shaky. “It was nothing.”

Stephanie could not hold back any longer. She went to her purse, pulled out the letter, and handed it to her father. “This will explain everything.”

Daniel was pensive when he read the letter; his face grew stark white. “My God, he said in a choked voice. “How could this be?” He shook his head and stared hard at Sawyer. “I didn’t know about you. Believe me.”

“It’s okay,” Sawyer said. “My mother saved the money you gave her, but my grandmother had to use some of it to pay my fine when I was in jail. I have it. You can have it back.”

“No,” Daniel said, filled with emotion, color returning to his face. “I’m so sorry, son. I’m afraid I let everyone down.” He put his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands. “I know what you’re going to think; Susan was a Mennonite. It makes me look like a bigot. Susan has haunted me since it happened. She didn’t leave because of the cultural differences—she left because I was married. We both knew she couldn’t stay. Marguerite was in Charleston because we weren’t getting along…” He glanced at Stephanie. “Do you think badly of me?”

“I’m over the shock,” she said honestly.

Though some color had returned to his face, he was visibly upset, and looked frail; it was hard for her to see him that way. She’d always held him on a pedestal, and it was difficult watching her too perfect father whose sins had come back to haunt him, suffer.

“How long have you two known each other?” Daniel asked, his dark eyes darting back and forth between the two of them with hints of suspicion.

“A few weeks,” Stephanie said, aware of how it must look to him. She was eager to ease his mind. “I met Sawyer the night of the exorcism at Thomas Shrock’s. He saved my life.”

Daniel gazed at Sawyer. “I will be eternally grateful. And I’m going to make everything up to you, son. We’ve lost a lot of time. We’ll never get those years back, but I’m going to do the right thing by you. I need to figure out where to start. Do you need anything, son? Money?”

“No, I own a horse ranch, he replied. “I have more than enough. You’re not obligated to me. We can pretend like this never happened. I didn’t want you to know, but Stephanie took the letter. I found it hidden in my grandmother’s quilt.” Sawyer stopped abruptly; afraid he was incriminating himself. And he also feared he would get Stephanie in trouble.

The thin line between Daniel’s brow and his down turned mouth told Stephanie that Daniel was still in a bit of shock. She worried he might need medication for his heart.

“I have to go,” he said. “But tomorrow the wheels are going to turn. You’re going to get what’s rightfully yours, Sawyer. I’m bringing you into the family. I’m going to tell Marguerite.”

His eyes scanned Sawyer as if he was seeing him for the first time. “You look just like me. You even have a dimple in your chin. My father and my grandfather had it, too. I could never deny you. I don’t know why I didn’t see it when you were brought before me at the courthouse.” He paused. “We’ll go shopping for clothes, get you a haircut.”

Stephanie watched as Sawyer’s expression turned from cowed to fearful. She wondered if her father’s words had stung his pride. She caught the faint tone of anxiety in his voice when he said, “Sir, I’m a Mennonite. It’s too late to change me. I can never be English.”

“I understand,” Daniel said. “We’ll buy Mennonite clothes. But I hope you’ll agree to a haircut.”

Stephanie felt immense relief when Daniel rose to leave. Sawyer had not been able to avoid the big hug and kiss on the cheek that Daniel gave him before he left. They waved to Daniel from the porch as he drove away, and he waved back.

They ate the rabbit, both in shock about what had just happened. Things were different now. Their lives would never be the same. Sawyer was Daniel’s natural son, his rightful heir, and she was adopted, the natural daughter of a monk and an opera singer.

It was dusk, and darkness was approaching. “Let’s take a walk down by the creek. Get some air,” Sawyer said. They walked alongside each other. There was a faint scent of honeysuckle in the air, and it was cool.

“How do you feel?” she asked softly. She was afraid Sawyer would feel guilty and worry that she would blame him for what had happened after the exorcism.

He turned toward Stephanie and put his arms around her, his lips brushing her forehead. His arms tightened around her. “I still have feelings for you. And they are not brotherly.” He took her hand and led her to a mossy rock by the creek. They sat down, and Sawyer took her hand. “I love you.”

“Things are different now,” Stephanie said. “You’ll be part of the family. I’m sure my father would not have left us alone if he thought we had an attraction to each other. You’re his son. And even if I am adopted, you’re my brother. It wouldn’t be right. We have to start thinking of each other differently.”

“I don’t think I can.” He drew her close and kissed her. It was a sweet tender kiss, but not at all brotherly. 

Stephanie’s heart pounded. “We can’t act on our feelings. Let’s go back to the house and talk.”

The moon was above the trees, and she could see the glow of the candles through the windows as they walked hand in hand back to the house. 

They talked all night—until the light of dawn seeped into the bedroom. “I have to go,” she murmured. “Daddy knows I’ve been gone all night. He calls me every night. I’ll tell him we had a lot to talk about.”

“Well, we did,” he said his dark eyes dancing. 

Stephanie’s expression was dreamy. “I didn’t expect it to turn out like this. Do you think we’ll ever find a balance? I am your sister, you know. Adopted. But still your sister. And you are Judge’s natural son. You’re a Stratford.”

“That’s not the way I see it. I’m Sawyer Rhodes, a Mennonite. No one will ever take my name away from me. I like who I am. I would never take away my years with my grandmother and my mother, and pretend like it never existed.”

“Exactly. You are Sawyer Rhodes and I am Stephanie Stratford. And I cannot allow myself to feel guilt. We were brought together for a reason—though I don’t know what it is. All I know is that I don’t want to give you up—just because you’re Judge’s son.”

He kissed her passionately. “When will I see you again?”

“I don’t know. We must be discreet.”