The Way Back To Erin
Cerella Sechrist
He didn't feel at home anywhere…except with herFifteen years ago, Erin crushed Burke Daniels by choosing his brother over him. Now, after being left at the altar by his fiancée, Burke’s back in Findlay Falls trying to put his life back together—and falling for his now-widowed sister-in-law all over again.He skipped town when Erin broke his heart. But after bonding with her son—his nephew—and realizing he still loves her, Burke doesn’t know how he can ever leave Erin again. Even if she tells him he has to…
He didn’t feel at home anywhere...except with her
Fifteen years ago, Erin crushed Burke Daniels by choosing his brother over him. Now, after being left at the altar by his fiancée, Burke’s back in Findlay Roads trying to put his life back together—and falling for his now-widowed sister-in-law all over again.
He skipped town when Erin broke his heart. But after bonding with her son—his nephew—and realizing he still loves her, Burke doesn’t know how he can ever leave Erin again. Even if she tells him he has to...
CERELLA SECHRIST lives in York, Pennsylvania, with two precocious pugs, Darcy and Charlotte, named after Jane Austen literary characters. Inspired by her childhood love of stories, she was ten years old when she decided she wanted to become an author. As a former barista, Cerella is a coffee snob who can spend hours discussing the finer points of a good Italian roast. She’s been known to post too many pug photos on both Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/cerellasechrist/) and Pinterest (https://www.pinterest.ca/cerellasechrist/). You can see for yourself by finding her online at cerellasechrist.com (http://www.cerellasechrist.com).
Also By Cerella Sechrist (#ud202ade5-d063-59e8-b4a5-985d137fa226)
A Song for Rory
Harper’s Wish
The Paris Connection
Gentle Persuasion
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Way Back to Erin
Cerella Sechrist
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08088-0
THE WAY BACK TO ERIN
© 2018 Cerella Delbaugh Sechrist
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“Why did you come back to Findlay Roads at all? You missed Gavin’s funeral. And then six months later you showed up here, as if nothing had changed.”
“That is not fair,” he snapped, rising to his feet. “Everything had changed.”
“Not for you! You’d barely been home in years—”
“I lost my brother!” He cut her off. “My best friend! You think you’re the only one who has grief to manage? You’re not alone in this, Erin. You’re not the only one who misses him.”
“But don’t you see?” she murmured, the words raspy. “You’d already left years ago. You had all this time and distance already. How can you possibly know what it felt like to lose him, without a choice?”
“But I do know.” Burke’s words sounded hard to his own ears. “You forget that I lost both my parents without a choice. And then my brother, too.”
Erin’s jaw clenched, and he could tell she was holding back what she wanted to say. He knew the expression well.
When she finally spoke, she said nothing more about Gavin but rather warned him, “Just don’t get so close to Kitt that you break his heart when you leave.”
With that, she turned on her heel and headed back inside, leaving him to wonder just whose heart she was really worried about him breaking.
Dear Reader (#ud202ade5-d063-59e8-b4a5-985d137fa226),
Grief is a tricky thing. It has no timetable. It will catch you unawares, lulling you into a false sense of security one hour, only to strike you savagely with the reminders of your loss in the next.
Grief is no stranger to the characters in The Way Back to Erin. With the death of her husband, Erin has had to dig her way through the years that have passed, remaining strong for herself and Gavin’s son, Kitt. When she faces the threat of losing the Moontide Inn, which has been her home and safe haven for years, her grief is rekindled. Her struggle to reconcile her shattered dreams with the return of Burke, a love she laid to rest many years ago, is at the heart of this story.
When my editors suggested the title to me, something settled in my spirit. The Way Back to Erin encompasses so much of what this book is about. Not only is Burke finding his way home and back to Erin after his own losses, but Erin is finding her way back to herself, defining who she is without Gavin, who was the foundation of her existence for so long. What she learns is this:
Grief will tie you up, cut you deep and hold you down. But it will not keep you there forever.
For whatever you have personally lost, I am sorry. And I hope that sooner rather than later, you find your way back home.
If you’d like to share your story with me, I would love to hear from you. Contact me through my website at cerellasechrist.com (http://www.cerellasechrist.com), online via Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/thecerellalife) or Twitter (https://twitter.com/cerellasechrist), or by mail at PO Box 614, Red Lion, PA 17356.
Cerella Sechrist
To Haley Sechrist: sister-in-law, fellow barista, “buffet buddy,” TV fan, cake lover and general partner in crime (remember to hide the evidence, especially when it involves cookie crumbs!)
Thanks for all the coffee, conversations, tears and laughter. But especially for being family.
Acknowledgments
Much gratitude to editor extraordinaire Karen Reid as well as Victoria Curran and the rest of the Harlequin Heartwarming team for all their hard work and support. You all have shaped Findlay Roads into the best little fictional town in Maryland.
Special thanks to my fellow Heartwarming authors, who are some of the most supportive and encouraging people I have ever met, with extra kudos to my blog partner, Loree Lough, for the phone chats, brainstorming sessions and support, and to Kate James for her patience, organization and general superwoman skills.
You all warm my heart.
Additional thanks to fellow author Lisa Lawmaster Hess for our Starbucks writing sessions and helping my characters find their way through this story.
Finally, to my family and friends, who always provide me with the best character fodder.
I love you all.
Contents
Cover (#u4b94d26f-276b-570e-b15e-74172e16868b)
Back Cover Text (#u5da6d5e8-bc87-5f9f-a17c-51d9db42a930)
About the Author (#ud5b17ae4-39a1-5b6a-ab55-ad937d1054e8)
Booklist (#u71ad3deb-a5f2-52d8-ad4d-a3f2ace7e2c2)
Title Page (#u2c467848-9844-5d72-9a95-61911394124e)
Copyright (#ue6e9f21d-b58a-5a87-b303-1cd9f2ee870f)
Introduction (#ud3ad196c-fdae-5c56-83ed-cf63667982df)
Dear Reader (#u87fc1476-31e4-5e8f-9f2c-02e5e91a6516)
Dedication (#u60bece3f-7978-52a6-9f91-21adf06e10b0)
CHAPTER ONE (#u37b4a812-bfe9-5654-9fd7-b88e2341679b)
CHAPTER TWO (#u87851f15-77eb-5806-8f41-bab04ebcf634)
CHAPTER THREE (#u390f55bc-209a-5c0c-b61d-b00c400c02d3)
CHAPTER FOUR (#uf0690bf0-d71f-5ab4-8750-67bc46a1b394)
CHAPTER FIVE (#u4fa6f40a-cf8e-5a20-b6a8-774abff2ab95)
CHAPTER SIX (#u131f29af-c537-5e8c-a067-0dbe6176cf62)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ud202ade5-d063-59e8-b4a5-985d137fa226)
WHEN THE CLOUDS first rolled in, Burke had felt disappointment. Thirty minutes later, he wondered if the weather had known what was coming well before he did and had conspired to provide an appropriate backdrop to the day.
As he stood there with the June rain pouring down, soaking through his tuxedo and slipping down the back of his neck, he shivered. The guests had retreated, taking shelter in the tent where the reception was to be held. He felt like he should take charge, make an announcement, tell them to go ahead and enjoy the dinner that had already been bought and paid for. But his father-in-law...no. He brought that thought up short.
Allan Worth would not be his father-in-law after all. Not since Tessa had failed to show up, disappearing from the Delphine Resort where their wedding was being held.
She was gone, as completely as the sun. The rain pelted his face, but he stubbornly remained outside, welcoming the hammer of the elements. It soothed his disappointment, his embarrassment, his confusion.
Tessa didn’t want to marry him. Or so the note in his clenched fist claimed. It was a paltry offering with no excuses. Just two simple lines.
I can’t marry you. I’m sorry.
Burke raised his eyes and looked toward the portico of the hotel where his and Tessa’s closest family members and friends congregated. Paige, Tessa’s oldest sister, was gesturing wildly. Though he couldn’t read her lips, they were moving at a fast clip, probably worrying more over the blow to the family’s reputation that a runaway bride would deliver rather than the fact that Tessa had disappeared. Harper, Tessa’s other sister, had her arms wrapped around their mother and was staring at her cell phone screen, as though willing it to ring.
Allan Worth was nowhere to be seen. Tessa’s father was likely doing damage control among the guests, apologizing for the inconvenience, offering refreshments. Like Burke should be doing. But he didn’t have the strength to face the expressions filled with sympathy, the strange condolences for someone who hadn’t died yet had disappeared just the same.
He shifted his gaze from the small crowd on the portico and caught sight of Molly Callahan, Tessa’s niece by marriage, playing tag with several other children, oblivious to how the rain stained their fine dress clothes. His lips tugged upward at the sight, and he wished he could abandon his dark mood and join them.
He searched the group of children for his nephew, Kitt, and wasn’t surprised when he didn’t see the little boy among them. Ever since his father’s death two years before, Kitt had become a very serious child. Running through the rain wasn’t something he’d take part in.
Burke moved his eyes back to the portico and found his nephew seated at Great-Aunt Lenora’s feet, the old woman’s hand absently stroking his hair. She leaned down and said something to the boy, but he didn’t respond.
Burke’s heart twisted anew. Not for his own loss but for his nephew’s. Would Kitt never laugh again?
Then again...would he? Between his brother’s death almost two years ago and now Tessa’s defection, he didn’t think there was much to smile about these days. His eyes continued to scan the group gathered on the portico, the kids scattered around the lawn, and the guests huddled in the tent, drawing into the center to avoid the rain that was blowing in through the open flaps.
It wasn’t until he saw her approaching that he realized he’d been looking for her in particular.
Erin. His brother’s widow, braving the downpour to get to him. Funny that no one else had bothered.
When she reached his side, she held out an umbrella, and he almost—but not quite—laughed at the sight. She’d picked her way across the grass, letting the deluge soak her, and hadn’t opened the umbrella. What good would it be to either of them now?
“Aunt Lenora says you should come in out of the rain.”
He could only blink in reply. Erin took a step closer.
“Burke, I’m sorry. But she’s not coming back. There’s no point in standing out here, waiting for her.”
“I’d rather be out here than in there—” he gestured toward the tent “—where they can all stare at me.”
Erin took his hand, the warmth of her fingers startling him. His own were chilled straight through to the bone.
“No one’s staring, Burke. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Her words penetrated, and he laughed, an empty, bitter sound. “I’ve just been stood up by my fiancée on my wedding day, which was already ruined by this freak rainstorm. I kind of think I have something to be embarrassed about.”
Erin’s eyes sparked. “Well, I imagine standing out here in the rain like an idiot only makes it worse.”
His jaw sagged. “You know, most people would be feeling sorry for me right about now.”
She sighed. “I do feel sorry for you, Burke. But I don’t pity you. Tessa’s not a cruel woman. If she didn’t want to marry you, then I suspect she had a good reason. Now, are you coming in out of the rain or not?”
He swallowed, shifting his gaze from Erin and to the arbor that had looked so festive and fresh only an hour earlier. Now, the boughs of greenery were sagging, dripping water in rivulets down the white columns. The flowers had lost quite a few petals, beaten from their stems by the rain and littering the ground in a soggy mess.
“I have nowhere to go,” he said, more to himself than to Erin. He’d lived for so long without a home that he hadn’t realized how much he was looking forward to finally settling down.
All of his possessions were boxed up in Tessa’s garage. He was supposed to move in with her after their honeymoon. He felt a pang at the realization that he wouldn’t have a home after all.
“You can stay at the Moontide,” Erin told him. “Aunt Lenora already said so.”
“I can’t stay at the inn,” he replied, almost defensively.
Erin frowned. She was a mess, the rain having washed her mascara in black lines down her cheeks. He felt a twinge of guilt that she was standing out here, in the rain with him, when no one else had bothered.
“Why not?” she demanded.
He couldn’t explain it to her, couldn’t give voice to his feelings on the subject. There were so many reasons for him to stay away from the bed-and-breakfast. Despite the fact that it had been his permanent home for four years as a teenager, he had never felt like he belonged there. And even less so now, knowing it was the house where Erin and Gavin had made their home, even though his brother had been deployed in the army for much of that time. Maybe it shouldn’t have mattered, given that the inn was over two centuries old and had housed hundreds, maybe thousands, of guests during its lifetime. What was one more?
But it wasn’t that simple. Not for him.
While this internal argument ensued, Erin’s fingers tightened on his, the heat of her skin briefly bringing some feeling back into his own.
“It’s either the inn, or we ask Allan to put you up in the Delphine.”
This snapped some sense back into him. “I am not going to ask my fiancée’s father to put me up at the resort he owns after she ditched me.” He coughed. “Ex-fiancée,” he corrected.
Erin frowned. “You said it yourself, you have nowhere to go.”
He closed his eyes at the reminder. How had he ended up here? Just an hour ago, he’d had everything he ever wanted—he’d been about to become a husband, hopefully within the next year or two, a father, and he’d finally felt a sense of belonging. At peace. Settled.
But now all his dreams had washed away with the coming of the rain...and Tessa’s desertion.
The Delphine and the Moontide were the only two hotels in town. The Lodge had boarded up its doors last year. So he could either drive an hour outside of town and use his credit card to put himself up at a motel on the outskirts until he could figure out his next move, or he could go begging Allan Worth for a free room at the Delphine.
He was sure his father-in-law—correction, his ex-fiancée’s dad—would have let him stay in the suite he and Tessa were meant to have for their wedding night, but no way did he want to set foot in that room now. Nor did he want to stay at the Delphine at all, where the staff and Tessa’s family could take note and whisper about him behind his back.
That only left the Moontide.
Erin stood there patiently, letting him sort through his options before she spoke up once more.
“It would make Aunt Lenora happy,” she pointed out. “She’s always said that the years you lived there were some of her happiest.”
He hadn’t lived at the Moontide since he was eighteen years old. Other than a handful of visits, he hadn’t spent any length of time at the bed-and-breakfast since he and Gavin had lived there as teenagers.
“She’s missed having you under her roof,” Erin added.
He swallowed, not daring to voice the question that rose unbidden.
And you, Erin? Did you ever miss me?
He quashed the thought as quickly as it came. There was no point in thinking along these lines. He had spent several long years burying that question as deeply as he could. The only reason it surfaced now, he told himself, was because he was feeling vulnerable and betrayed. But he would not even consider the subject because it no longer mattered.
His heart protested, whispering, It does matter. It’s always mattered.
But he ignored his heart’s cry and tugged his hand free of Erin’s.
“All right. If Lenora has a room to spare, I’ll come to the Moontide.”
Erin looked at him so intently that he shifted away from her.
“But only tonight, Erin. Just until I get things sorted out.”
Erin didn’t argue with him, and no matter how hard he tried to bury the feeling, part of him wished she would.
* * *
THE UNEXPECTED STORM had blown over, but it left behind a few threadbare clouds and an unseasonal chill in the summer air. Erin laid out Kitt’s long-sleeved pajamas and left him to dress for bed before checking in on Burke.
Her brother-in-law had collapsed onto the bed in the Galway Room, one of the Moontide’s middle-size bedrooms, as soon as they had returned home from the Delphine.
As she peeked inside the door he’d left ajar, she could see he hadn’t moved from where she’d left him, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest told her he’d fallen into a sound sleep. She moved into the room and opened the armoire, pulling out one of the family afghans, knitted years ago by Aunt Lenora’s grandmother.
She buried her face briefly into the soft, worn cotton, inhaling the scents of lavender and cedar from the armoire’s interior before she unfolded it and stepped toward the bed. She draped the blanket over Burke’s sleeping form, arranging it carefully, the same as she did for Kitt when he fell asleep on the couch while reading.
She lingered in the room, tidying up small details like centering the pair of porcelain songbird figurines sitting slightly askew on the fireplace mantel, pushing the ceramic pitcher and basin on the bedside table away from the edge and tugging a stray cobweb free of the wooden desk chair.
At one time, Aunt Lenora kept a girl on the payroll to come in twice a week for detailed cleaning of the rooms at the B&B. But in the last year, the inn’s revenue had dropped so much that she’d been forced to try to clean the rooms herself. At eighty-nine, scrubbing floors and washing windows had taxed the older woman to her limits. When Erin had come upon her one day, leaning on the wardrobe in the Killarney Suite and heaving for breath, she had known it was time to take over.
The next day, she’d given Connor her two-week notice at the restaurant and began working at the inn full-time. She booked the reservations (though there were fewer than there once had been), made the morning breakfast (and lamented how much food was wasted), kept up with the piles of laundry that a B&B generated and cleaned the rooms, all while raising Kitt on her own and keeping an eye on Aunt Lenora.
The older woman had reluctantly given over much of the B&B’s maintenance to Erin, but that didn’t mean she’d retired. On any given day, Aunt Lenora could be found outside in the garden, tending to vegetables and flowers or crawling up into the attic to go through the expansive mementos stored in its rafters.
Erin had found her there just last week, after hours of searching. She’d fallen asleep in the attic’s drafty environment, curled up in a pile of blankets with her arms wrapped around an album. After waking Aunt Lenora, Erin returned to the attic to restore order and found the album lying open.
It was a scrapbook of Gavin’s life with pressed clippings of his high school wrestling career, a copy of his graduation program, the Findlay Roads Courier’s article about his time in the army and then, at the back, his obituary.
Erin hadn’t needed to read the words. She knew each one by heart.
Sergeant Gavin Daniels passed into eternal rest this past week at the age of thirty-two.
She and Aunt Lenora had decided to leave the specific details of his passing out of the paper, for Kitt’s sake more than anything. It had been bad enough that her son had lost his father. She wanted to shelter him as much as possible from the senselessness of Gavin’s death by a drunk driver.
The obituary had gone on to list Gavin’s various accomplishments in the army before detailing what Erin considered the most important part of his life’s summation.
Gavin leaves behind his wife, Erin, and his son, Kitt, as well as a great-aunt, Lenora, and a brother, Burke, along with many friends who will forever miss his spirit, laughter and kindness.
In the stifling air of the attic, Erin had started to cry, and even now, recalling the words, she had to blink back tears. That final statement had been truer than she might have known. She missed Gavin more with each passing day.
Her grief was cut short as Burke groaned in his sleep, and Erin turned back toward him. His face was lined with emotion, his brow furrowed in slumber.
She bit her lip, her feelings a tangled mess. On the one hand, she felt sympathy for the way the day had gone. He and Tessa had seemed like the perfect couple. She was petite and blonde, cute and sweet, and a lovely foil to Burke’s tall, muscular physique, brown hair and blue eyes. They were easy around each other. Burke would often drape an arm around Tessa’s shoulders as she leaned into him. The sight had always pierced Erin with a pang of envy, and she told herself it was the residual grief of losing Gavin.
But after today, she was forced to admit she wasn’t so sure that was the only reason. Because at the root of her jumbled emotions about this day, there was one she hadn’t expected to feel.
Relief.
She was relieved that Tessa had fled, pleased that she wasn’t going to be Burke’s wife. And that feeling frightened her. She had buried whatever she once felt for Burke. She’d convinced herself her feelings for him were long dead. She had loved Gavin, had married him, borne him a son, had been faithful during his years deployed overseas with the army and had grieved him every single day since his death.
And yet...she couldn’t ignore how her heart had thumped with joy when it became apparent that Tessa had bolted.
Burke stirred, curling his fingers into the afghan she’d placed over him. She felt herself flush as she watched him.
She shouldn’t have felt relief. She shouldn’t have been happy about what he’d lost. She shouldn’t be feeling anything for Burke at all, except to think of him as Kitt’s uncle, her brother-in-law. She had loved Gavin. She still missed Gavin.
But as Burke sighed in slumber, she felt that same rush of relief once more. Biting her lip in frustration, she quickly turned and hurried from the room, down the hall and refused to look back.
CHAPTER TWO (#ud202ade5-d063-59e8-b4a5-985d137fa226)
BURKE SURFACED FROM sleep slowly, some elusive memory chasing him toward wakefulness. He kept his eyes closed, trying to orient himself. The bed beneath him was soft, much more comfortable than the flimsy mattress he was used to on the boat.
That’s when he remembered. He’d sold the boat, the most permanent home he’d had in the last fifteen years, because he’d planned to move in with Tessa after the wedding.
But there had been no wedding. And he no longer had a place to call home. He was surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment at this realization. He’d never settled before in his adult life. Moving back to Findlay Roads and buying the boat had been the closest he’d come to putting down roots. He’d convinced himself that roots were overrated, and he’d done his best ever since his high school graduation to stay on the move, never lingering too long, never growing attached. Because he knew what happened when you grew attached to things.
Tessa was proof of that.
Why had she bailed on their wedding yesterday? He thought back on the last few weeks, leading up to their big day. She’d been distracted and perhaps a little moody, which was unusual—Tessa was one of the sweetest people he’d ever known. She was kind and encouraging, warm and welcoming. But he’d chalked it all up to stress over planning the wedding. Now he realized that she must have been having doubts, feeling the pressure of committing to him. And clearly she’d decided a lifetime as his wife was not for her.
He felt a pang of disappointment at the thought. He could have loved Tessa for the rest of his life. He did love Tessa, he quickly amended. But now there’d be no forever for them.
As he wallowed in this realization, he eventually began to prickle with awareness. The room around him was silent, but he sensed sunlight filtering through the windows. He had yet to open his eyes, blocking out reality for as long as he could. But he began to feel there was someone in the room with him.
He thought of Gavin, his older brother, who had lived in this house, the same as he had, during high school. And after Burke had moved on, Gavin stayed, marrying Erin and making his home here at the inn, in between his stints of army deployment.
For a fleeting moment, Burke wondered if maybe Gavin was here with him, if his spirit still walked the halls of the B&B. But he knew better. Wherever his brother was, it wasn’t here.
Still unnerved by the sense that someone was in the room with him, he opened his eyes. His nephew, Kitt, sat at the end of the bed, his blue eyes intent on Burke. He smiled at the little boy. Kitt ducked his head and didn’t smile back.
It bothered Burke. He’d only met the kid once before he’d moved back to town. Gavin’s son had been all of three years old at the time, but Burke remembered him as a round-faced, smiling child. That little boy had slight resemblance to the one before him now. This Kitt was subdued, his face already losing its cherubic roundness. He was far too serious for a six-year-old.
Then again, Burke could relate. His and Gavin’s parents had died in the fire that had destroyed their home when Burke was ten years old. After that, he’d also lost his ability to laugh. It was Gavin who had kept him afloat, Gavin who had remained optimistic despite years of being shuffled from one family member to another. Burke had survived only because of his older brother.
But Kitt had no older brother. The thought pained Burke, both in his grief for Gavin and sympathy for his nephew.
“What’s up, little man?”
Kitt shrugged and scooted farther down the bed. Burke couldn’t quite make out his nephew’s expression, both from his lowered head and because of morning shadows in the room.
Burke didn’t press him to respond. He remembered his own childhood, the dual experience of self-inflicted isolation and the longing for someone to care.
He glanced around the room. This had once been his bedroom, long ago. But after years of being absent, Aunt Lenora had converted it into the Galway Room. He found he liked the changes. He hadn’t had many mementos growing up. When he’d lived here, the room had been sparse, the way he preferred it. But now it had a homey, lived-in quality that made him homesick in a contradictory sort of way.
“Is your mom around?” He didn’t know why he asked the question, other than the fact that thinking about his years in this house always led his thoughts to Erin.
Kitt gave a half nod and wiggled off the bed. Burke thought maybe he intended to leave, but he only moved a few feet away and settled on the floor.
Burke sat up and rubbed the pads of his fingers against his eyes, trying to focus. He sniffed the air and smelled the tantalizing aroma of coffee. At first, he thought maybe the inn was entertaining guests today, but then he remembered that Aunt Lenora had closed the B&B this weekend in order to attend the wedding without distractions.
“Have you had breakfast yet?” Burke asked Kitt. The little boy shook his head, though he still didn’t look up.
Burke sighed, wishing there was some way to draw his nephew out of his uncommunicative shell. Then, to his surprise, Kitt spoke up.
“Mom’s making blueberry pancakes. She said they’re your favorite.”
Burke was startled, not only by the sound of Kitt’s voice but also that Erin had remembered, after so many years, that blueberry pancakes were his favorite breakfast food.
“She’s right. I love blueberry pancakes.”
“So did my dad.”
This soft announcement, barely whispered into the stillness, gave Burke pause. “Yeah, I had to eat fast whenever our mom made them when we were kids.”
He hadn’t thought about that in years, family breakfasts gathered at the table. Those days had passed lifetimes ago. And to remember them brought more pain than pleasure. But he noticed that Kitt had lifted his head to watch him after this statement.
His little face was as somber as ever, but he looked curious now. “What else did he used to do when you were kids?”
Burke experienced a tug of grief. He didn’t allow himself to go back to these days. His childhood had been a precious, beautiful thing, and then it had been his greatest source of pain. But he hated to refuse the rare question from his nephew, so instead, he changed the subject.
“Tell you what? How about we go get some of those blueberry pancakes, and we can talk about what it was like growing up with your dad some other time?”
Kitt hesitated but then seemed to decide this was a fair offer. He nodded his head and stood to his feet, padding toward the door. Burke swung his legs over the bed and quickly realized he was still wearing his dress shirt and tux pants from the day before. He frowned, but a glance around the room revealed no other clothing. He’d have to find out what happened to the luggage he’d planned to take on the honeymoon.
And then he supposed he’d have to make time to collect the belongings he’d moved into Tessa’s house over the last couple of weeks. He wondered if she’d be there.
It was strange. Though he felt regret and disappointment in Tessa’s defection, he wasn’t experiencing the heartache he should have felt at the loss of his fiancée. Shouldn’t he be more devastated? Unable to sleep or eat?
But he’d just woken from hours of uninterrupted slumber, and his stomach was rumbling loudly, prompting him toward the blueberry pancakes. Of course, he was sad about Tessa as well as feeling the sting of rejection. But heartsick? No, he didn’t think he felt quite that badly.
He wasn’t sure what this said about him, nor his relationship with his former fiancée. Maybe he was still in a state of denial, numb to the reality of what had not taken place.
Or maybe Tessa had seen something he hadn’t and broken things off because she realized he didn’t love her as well as he should.
* * *
ERIN LICKED A stray splatter of pancake batter from her knuckle and then focused on pouring more of the thick liquid into the skillet. She reached for the container of blueberries, sprinkled a few juicy orbs onto the wet dough and waited.
“Are they ready soon, Mom?”
Erin jumped at the sound of Kitt’s voice. She hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen. But then, he moved like a ghost these days. Just the sound of his voice was a rare and precious thing.
“Almost. Did you wake up your uncle?”
“He did.”
Burke’s voice startled her more than Kitt’s had. But then, it had been a long time since there’d been a man in the inn’s kitchen. Not since Gavin...
“Do I smell coffee?”
She turned her attention back to the pancakes and gestured in the direction of the coffeepot. Burke passed by her, stirring the air. The hairs on her arm stood on end from his proximity. The reaction left her uneasy. She’d spent years learning to temper her emotions where Burke was concerned. She was not prepared to give up that hard-won control just because he had spent one night at the inn.
It didn’t help, though, that he looked a little like James Bond in his rumpled tux.
Erin resolutely kept her back to Burke as she finished cooking the pancake and put it on a plate. From the corner of her eye, she saw Kitt find a seat at the table. There was a large dining room off the kitchen for guests at the B&B, but this smaller table was reserved for family meals.
She sensed more than saw Burke carry a mug of coffee to the table and sit.
“Where’s Aunt Lenora?” he asked.
“Lenny’s sleeping,” Kitt said, using his nickname for the old woman.
“Yesterday took a lot out of her,” Erin explained.
Burke didn’t say anything as Erin poured more batter on the griddle and then carried the platter of finished pancakes to the table. Burke reached for one of the plates she’d laid out earlier and stabbed a pancake, serving Kitt first and then taking three for himself. She moved to the pantry and retrieved some syrup before returning to the stove.
“Kitt, after breakfast, it’s time for chores.”
Her son didn’t respond, nor had she expected him to. Kitt didn’t make a fuss about things like most kids. If she told him to pick up his toys, he immediately obliged. If she said he had to eat all his vegetables, he nearly licked the plate clean. While many mothers might brag about such deferential obedience, Erin found it concerning. What kind of kid didn’t balk, at least occasionally, about setting the table, putting away their clothes or brushing their teeth?
She glanced over her shoulder and caught Kitt watching Burke intently as his uncle made short work of his pancake stack. She frowned as her son practiced holding his fork the same way Burke did, his index finger spread along the length of the utensil’s spine. He tried cutting into his pancake in an imitation of Burke and then shoveled a too-large bite into his mouth.
“Slow down, Kitt. There’s plenty more here.”
Kitt didn’t acknowledge her, but he chewed his food with concentration. Burke cleared his throat, as if the admonishment had been directed at him.
“Sorry, I just forgot how good your pancakes are.”
Erin turned back to the stove. “They used to be your favorite.” She spoke the words before she thought better of them. Burke was quiet for a beat too long.
“Gavin’s, too,” he finally said.
Erin didn’t respond. After another minute, she scooped two more pancakes onto her spatula and moved to slide them onto Burke’s plate.
“Thanks,” he murmured as he reached for the syrup.
The kitchen was silent for another few minutes as Erin scraped the last of the batter from the bowl and flipped the final pancakes on the griddle. When she was finished, she joined the guys at the table. Burke was already halfway through his second stack of pancakes as she began her first.
“So...” She kept her gaze lowered as she carefully drizzled a stream of golden syrup across her plate. “How are you feeling this morning? About...everything?”
He didn’t speak a word, and Erin soon grew uncomfortable with the quiet. She looked up and found him staring off into the distance. His mouth was quirked downward, but he didn’t appear...heartbroken. Not like she thought he would.
“I don’t know. It’s a lot to process, I guess.” His gaze fell to Kitt. She slid a glance toward her son, following Burke’s eyes. “I guess if Tessa didn’t want to spend the rest of her life with me, it was better to find out now rather than later.”
Erin slipped a bite of pancake into her mouth as she contemplated this outlook. The buttery flavor of fluffy dough and blueberries melted on her tongue.
“It might have been more convenient if she’d decided that just a little sooner,” Erin said. But she didn’t really intend any malice in the words. She didn’t imagine Tessa Worth had a single selfish bone in her body. The younger woman was one of the nicest people she’d ever known.
Erin had found it hard to be jealous of Tessa’s engagement to Burke, when they both seemed so suited to each other. After all, Tessa had done what no woman before had been able to since high school—she’d anchored Burke to one location for more than six months at a time. That in itself had proved to Erin that Burke must really love Tessa.
As a traveling photojournalist, Burke had lived in dozens of places over the years, including a few exotic destinations, as he built up a successful career. He’d been published in some of the world’s bestselling publications. But he’d taken a small hiatus from his career once he moved back to town and became engaged to Tessa.
So she couldn’t quite be jealous, except for deep down, where she felt the sting of resentment. Tessa had managed to keep Burke in Findlay Roads. So why would the other woman abandon the possibility of becoming his wife? Erin found it hard to understand.
She shook her head slightly, trying to shake these thoughts from her mind.
“What will you do now?” Erin asked, both anticipating and dreading the answer.
Burke paused, fork halfway to his mouth, and stared at her. She could see the question bothered him. Perhaps he hadn’t given any thought to what came next.
“I—” he started, then stopped. Kitt looked up from his plate and focused on his uncle.
“I don’t know,” Burke admitted. “I guess...maybe I should try to talk to Tess?”
Erin frowned, uncertain about this proposed course of action. “You could try...but what if she doesn’t want to talk to you?” She was ashamed the moment the words left her month. Not so much because of how they might be received but because she spoke them for selfish reasons. She didn’t want Burke to speak with Tessa. And she felt horrible for experiencing a certain sort of gladness at the split in their relationship. She spoke again, trying to repair the suggestion. “Or, I don’t know, maybe you should give her some time?”
Burke didn’t respond. Erin poked at her pancakes, her appetite lost. There was a greater issue at hand here. Erin had invited Burke to spend the night at the B&B, at Aunt Lenora’s urging. But she had assumed it would be only that—one night. It wasn’t until the light of day that she remembered—Burke had sold the boat he’d kept berthed at the marina. That’s where he’d been living for the last year and a half since he’d returned to Findlay Roads. The plan had been for him to move in with Tessa after the wedding, so he’d sold the boat last week and had spent the last two days before the wedding staying in a hotel suite at the Delphine. But where did he plan to live now?
As if her son had read her mind, Kitt spoke up with a suggestion. “You could stay here.”
Erin raised her head sharply. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Burke did the same. She wasn’t sure which stunned her more—Kitt’s suggestion or the fact that he’d spoken at all. He kept so much to himself that Erin had grown used to his silence. The sound of his voice often startled her. It was changing, losing some of its baby lisp and becoming more enunciated. But the fact that Kitt might want Burke to keep staying at the inn was the most shocking thing of all.
“Kitt, I’m not sure—” Erin began and was quickly silenced by Aunt Lenora’s imposing voice.
“Of course he’s staying here.”
For the second time in the last sixty seconds, Erin and Burke’s heads swiveled in unison. Aunt Lenora stood in the doorway, a worn terrycloth robe wrapped around her thin frame.
“This is his home.”
It had been, long ago. But Erin had to bite her tongue to keep from pointing out how few were the times that Burke had actually stepped through the inn’s doors in the years since he’d left.
“Aunt Lenora, I can’t stay,” Burke said.
Erin’s shoulders sagged in relief, grateful that Burke knew this was no longer his home.
Aunt Lenora waved a hand in dismissal. “Of course you can. So you’ve been jilted. That’s no reason to tuck your tail between your legs and run.”
The old woman shuffled toward the table. Erin noted that Kitt was grinning and her jaw nearly dropped. Kitt’s grins were even rarer than the sound of his voice. Overcoming her shock at her son’s expression, she looked to Burke, waiting for him to shoot down Aunt Lenora’s idea. To her consternation, he seemed to be considering.
“But where would he stay?” Erin asked.
Aunt Lenora began stacking pancakes on a plate. “In the Galway Room, where else? It’s his old bedroom, after all.”
“But what if you need that room for a booking?”
Aunt Lenora took a seat at the table, her movements slow and deliberate. She arched one gray eyebrow at Erin.
Erin dropped her head from the piercing gaze. Even without using words, Aunt Lenora made her point. The inn’s business had dropped dramatically in the last year, ever since the Delphine resort had opened up nearby. While summer was usually the Moontide’s busiest season, they had fewer than half the stays on the books than they normally did, and the autumn and winter months had been stagnant.
Tourism, especially in the summer months, made up a large portion of the town’s economy. Last year, Findlay Roads had been busier than ever. The Delphine had been booked solid nearly all summer long, and tellingly, most of the business the Moontide had snagged had come from couples and families who were unable to get a room at the resort. This summer wasn’t shaping up to be any better. It was unlikely the inn was suddenly going to have a flood of bookings, so there was no need to worry about Burke taking up one of the rooms.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Erin said in a desperate attempt to sway the way things were going.
Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at her, and she fought a blush of embarrassment. She didn’t want to seem inhospitable, but the last thing she needed was Burke living in such close proximity, under the same roof as her.
“I—I mean, it’s just that, Burke has a lot to figure out now, and I’m sure he needs his space and, well...and...” She ran out of steam, floundering.
“No, Erin’s right.”
She relaxed once more as Burke spoke.
“It’s probably not a good idea. I can find a hotel outside of town or something. It’s probably better that way. There’s less chance of running into Tessa.”
The table fell silent. The quiet was so deafening that Erin squirmed. Burke was staring down at his empty plate, and Erin felt sick to her stomach. She didn’t want him here. But she didn’t want him bunking at a hotel either.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Kitt frowning. Aunt Lenora stood to her feet, drawing everyone’s attention.
“You both are being ridiculous. Burke has nowhere to go, and we have an inn full of empty rooms. He’s staying here. And that’s final.”
Aunt Lenora’s announcement silenced any further protestations. Erin didn’t like it, but while it was her home, she didn’t own it and had little say about who stayed and who didn’t. Aunt Lenora had raised both Gavin and Burke in their teenage years. After losing Gavin, it would make perfect sense that the old woman might want Burke to stay.
But it didn’t change Erin’s feelings on the matter.
She stood to her feet, picked up her half-eaten plate of pancakes and carried it to the sink.
“I better get going,” she announced. “Kitt, behave for Aunt Lenora.” She didn’t really need to caution Kitt to behave, but she said it anyway.
Burke frowned. “Go where?”
Erin said nothing. She exited the room, pretending as though she hadn’t heard, and left it to Aunt Lenora to answer him if she chose.
CHAPTER THREE (#ud202ade5-d063-59e8-b4a5-985d137fa226)
BURKE WATCHED ERIN LEAVE, disappointed by her abrupt departure. It was obvious she didn’t want him here. The feeling was mutual. He’d never felt at home at the Moontide. But as much as he didn’t want to remain at the B&B, he knew he didn’t have the luxury of rejecting Aunt Lenora’s offer. He still had a relatively steady income from royalties of his photos, as well as a series of travel books he was contributing to. Yet he was by no means wealthy, and so he needed to get back to work at some point.
He’d pushed off any jobs in order to stay in Findlay Roads and plan the wedding. He and Tessa had agreed that he could maybe start traveling again in the autumn, after their wedding and honeymoon and after they’d settled into a marital routine.
He’d sold the boat that he’d called home for the last year and a half, which left him effectively homeless. As much as he loathed being at the Moontide for more than a night or two, it looked like he’d have to accept Aunt Lenora’s suggestion and remain there for a bit longer. He had to regroup and determine what to do next.
“I’m glad you’ve decided to stay.”
Burke looked to Aunt Lenora. She’d resumed her seat and was cutting daintily into a small stack of pancakes.
Burke hesitated. As much as he appreciated her generosity and had no choice but take her up on her offer, he still hated doing so.
“Aunt Lenora, I don’t want to put you out. Maybe Erin’s right, what if you need the room?”
Aunt Lenora snorted. “Have you taken a look at the guest register? There haven’t been any new bookings in three weeks.” The old woman slid a glance at Kitt and frowned. “My feet are cold. Kitt, would you be a dear and go fetch me my slippers?”
Kitt looked from Lenora to Burke and back again. Then, without a word, he stood and left the room. Aunt Lenora waited until he was gone before she spoke again.
“Erin tries too hard,” she suddenly declared.
Burke shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”
Aunt Lenora reached for the syrup bottle. “She’s been trying to drum up business. The local book club meets here once a month. They used to go to the library, but when they started complaining it was too drafty, she offered them use of the inn instead...for a nominal fee that includes scones and tea.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Burke said, uneasy about where the conversation was headed.
Aunt Lenora shook her head. “She quit her job, at Callahan’s.”
“I know.”
She continued shaking her head. “That young chef who owns it, Connor...he was sorry to see her go. Told her she was welcome back any time.”
Burke didn’t speak. Aunt Lenora obviously had something on her mind, and he figured he’d just have to wait for her to reach her point. He’d witnessed it a time or two in the past—when she had something to share, she rambled on with steadfast determination until she reached her conclusion.
“I worry that she spends too much of her time here. With me and Kitt. She should go out more.”
“Well, where did she go just now?”
Aunt Lenora looked sad. “To the lighthouse. She goes there to feel closer to him.”
Burke leaned back in his chair. “Him?”
“Gavin.”
“Oh.” Burke felt the familiar tug of grief...and shame. He cleared his throat. “Why the lighthouse?”
Aunt Lenora shrugged. “You’d have to ask her.”
Burke didn’t reply even as the conversation faded into silence. Aunt Lenora worked her way through her pancakes while Burke sipped his coffee. He had a feeling the old woman wasn’t finished, and his suspicions were confirmed a second later when she spoke up once more.
“You should talk to her.”
“Me? Why? What would I say?”
“Tell her not to worry so much about me, or the inn. Tell her it’s okay to go out, to be with other people, to be...happy again.”
Burke wasn’t exactly comfortable with this directive, but before he could formulate a response, Aunt Lenora switched topics.
“And how about you? Have you heard from Tessa?”
The reminder of his runaway bride pierced his pride. “No,” he admitted. “I haven’t.” He’d checked his phone before heading downstairs for breakfast. There had been several texts, expressing sympathy, including one from Harper, Tessa’s sister. But nothing from his fiancée. No texts of explanation. No voicemails saying she was sorry or offering an explanation. Only silence.
“Then you’ll stay.”
“Aunt Lenora, I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”
She ignored him.
“I can pay you, if it helps, since your bookings are down—”
“You can work for your keep.”
Aunt Lenora knew him too well. When he’d first come to live with her, at fourteen, he was already scarred by too many relatives who made him and Gavin feel like a burden. He didn’t appreciate handouts, couldn’t abide feeling indebted to others. By offering him the option to work for his room and board, she’d eliminated one of his strongest objections.
And he couldn’t share the other one with her.
“I don’t know,” he hedged, still trying to find a way out. “Maybe it would be better if I just left town. I mean, with Tessa here and all...”
Aunt Lenora made a face. “You cannot run forever.” Just then, Kitt reentered the kitchen, carrying a pair of fuzzy slippers. He took them to Aunt Lenora and without a word, placed them at her feet where she could easily slide her toes inside.
“Thank you, Kitt.” She patted his hand and met Burke’s gaze. “You know, there’s some drywall that needs replaced in the upstairs hallway. I think your uncle Burke planned to work on that this afternoon. Perhaps you could help him?”
The little boy’s gaze flitted to Burke, his eyes lighting with joy. There was no way he could say no to Aunt Lenora, or Kitt, now.
But he couldn’t stay forever. His conscience would never allow it.
* * *
THE BREEZE OFF the bay whipped the flag that sat next to the lighthouse. Erin listened to the fabric snapping in the wind and imagined it was Gavin, his spirit reminding her he was nearby. She wasn’t sure she believed that, but sometimes, just the thought of him watching over her was enough to get her through the day.
She shifted, settling more comfortably on the bench that offered a magnificent view of the water, and started her weekly conversation.
“So, you’ll never believe what happened yesterday. Tessa stood Burke up at their wedding.”
It had felt strange, at first, speaking aloud when she was all by herself. She refrained if there were others nearby, but she’d learned that during this particular time of the day, on Sunday mornings, the lighthouse grounds were usually pretty empty. So this had became her time, the time she spent with Gavin.
“Burke stayed at the inn last night. Aunt Lenora insisted.” Erin bit her lip, uncertain how much of her thoughts she wanted to voice aloud. “And now she’s invited him to stay for as long as he needs, until he can figure things out. I wish she hadn’t. I don’t want him living there. He’s never liked the Moontide.” She felt a ripple of guilt for such uncharitable thoughts. “I know he doesn’t have anywhere else to go, but it just seems...wrong, somehow. To have him there when you’re...not.”
She sighed and paused in her one-sided conversation to watch a seagull swoop down over the water.
She didn’t know how to express it. Or rather, didn’t want to speak aloud the real reasons Burke’s presence made her uneasy. She might have been talking to the air, but on some level, a small part of her believed Gavin could hear her. And she wasn’t willing to share her secret with him. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.
“Sometimes, I think I’m a terrible person,” she whispered into the wind. “Burke just lost the woman he loves, and now he has nowhere to live. It makes sense for him to stay at the Moontide.”
But his presence is a reminder of my guilt.
She cleared her throat and fell silent as she noticed an older couple shuffling along the brick path that wrapped around the lighthouse. They were both hunched over slightly, their arms threaded tightly together as they moved along.
Her heart ached. That was supposed to have been her and Gavin, growing old together, spending Sunday mornings walking beside the lighthouse. That had been the plan. There had never been any question that Findlay Roads was where they’d make their home after Gavin was finished with the army. It was here that they both had found peace after years of moving around the country—her as a military brat before her mom had settled her in Findlay Roads while she was still in the middle of high school and Gavin being shuffled between family members after his parents’ death. They’d wanted to raise Kitt there, to have him know the stability and relationships they had missed as a child.
So much for that, Erin thought bitterly. All because one person had one drink too many and decided he wasn’t too drunk to drive. It was no consolation that the man responsible for taking Gavin’s life was serving a five-year prison sentence for vehicular homicide.
Erin didn’t want revenge for what had happened. She wanted Gavin back. And nothing in the world could make up for the ocean of tears she’d cried nor the sadness that still resided in her son’s eyes.
“It should be you,” she spoke aloud, now that the older couple had moved beyond earshot. “It should be you, living at the Moontide. Not Burke.”
But deep down she wondered if this was fate’s way of punishing her for the past.
* * *
BURKE USED A utility knife to cut carefully into the drywall surrounding the crack Aunt Lenora had pointed out in one of the upstairs bedrooms. He felt Kitt at his side, though the little boy didn’t say a word. But he huddled close, and Burke sensed the child’s gaze fastened on his movements. He finished cutting and pulled away the drywall paper to begin chipping at the compound underneath. Kitt leaned in so close that Burke could feel the little boy’s breath on his chin.
“You want to give it a try?”
Kitt jerked back in surprise at being addressed.
“It’s not hard,” Burke assured. “Watch.” He demonstrated how to use a drywall knife to scrape off any loose debris then held the handle toward Kitt.
The little boy took it and edged in closer, tongue tucked between his lips, as he awkwardly tackled the repair Burke had started. His attempts to scrape the loose compound free resulted in a few more nicks to the wall.
“Here, like this.” Burke took the smaller hand in his and helped guide the blade along the wall, loosening a spray of debris.
“There you go.” He removed his hand and let Kitt have another try.
The little boy moved slower this time but with more precision and after another minute, Burke moved away to get the drywall compound for the next step in the process. By the time he sat back down on the bedroom floor, Kitt had done a decent job of clearing the surface.
“Not bad,” he declared. “Maybe we should go into business. Daniels and Daniels Drywalling. It has a nice ring to it.”
Kitt didn’t say anything, but the grin he flashed was the biggest Burke had seen yet from his nephew.
Burke continued the repairs and made short work of applying compound and sanding down the wall.
“There we go. All that’s left is to paint.”
“How’d you learn to do that?” It was the first Kitt had spoken since they’d come upstairs together.
He shrugged in response. “I don’t know. I just picked it up somewhere, I guess.” He cocked his head. “Did you ever help your dad around the house?”
Kitt didn’t respond but lowered his head. Burke winced. Kitt had only been four years old when Gavin had died. Not old enough to have participated in too many projects around the inn. And given how Gavin had been deployed in the army for months at a time only reminded Burke just how much Kitt had been shortchanged in his relationship with his father.
“I probably picked it up from your dad, actually. He was always good at this kind of thing.”
Kitt’s head lifted. He followed Burke as they moved into the hall, where Aunt Lenora had mentioned there was another crack that needed to be repaired.
“He could fix anything,” Burke went on. “He was like the resident handyman here at the inn when we were teens.” Burke paused, remembering. “Actually, I’d forgotten that. Your dad and I both had chores when we lived here. I usually had to mow the lawn and rake leaves in the fall. But Gavin, he got all the repair jobs because he was so good at it. I mean, this house is old. So things were always breaking, and Gavin would fix them right up.”
“How old?”
“Hmm?” Burke asked distractedly as he searched for the crack Aunt Lenora had mentioned. He found it relatively easily. She, or perhaps Erin, had positioned a small table in front of the worst part to hide it. But it was still visible if you stood a few feet back. He put down the drywall tools and lifted the table out of the way.
“How old is the Moontide?” Kitt asked.
“Oh, way old. From before the 1800s. It was built several years after the end of the Revolutionary War, I think. I remember once this guy came to stay here for a weekend, and he kept talking at breakfast about the archeology of houses like this, how they survived attacks during the War of 1812 and stuff, when the British were trying to take the Bay.”
Burke turned and caught Kitt’s befuddled expression. He grinned.
“Let me put it this way. This inn has been standing for well over two hundred years.”
Kitt’s eyes grew round at this number. “Two hundred years?” he breathed.
“Yep.”
Burke examined the six-inch gash in the wall, wondering how it had happened and then decided it didn’t matter. Aunt Lenora had grumbled often enough about how the more careless guests at the inn treated the house. People didn’t worry about damages when they’d be gone by the end of the week. Although, with a house as old as the Moontide, repairs had to be expected. A building didn’t get to be around this long without its fair share of aches and pains.
“It looks like this one is going to take some work. You want to help me cut out the wall?”
What little boy didn’t like the chance to do a little demolition?
But Kitt hesitated.
“You’re going to cut the wall?”
Burke laughed. “In this case, it’s okay. It’s kind of like...we have to make this part—” he pointed at the crack “—worse before we can make it better.”
He tugged the utility knife free of his pocket and handed it to Kitt.
“You want to take a shot at it?”
Kitt stared at his hand for a long moment before reaching for the handle.
Burke squatted down next to him and pointed two inches left of the wall’s gash.
“We’re going to start here.” He held Kitt’s hand steady and helped him press into the wall.
And then he heard Erin’s voice, shrill and sharp.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
CHAPTER FOUR (#ud202ade5-d063-59e8-b4a5-985d137fa226)
ERIN FELT HER cheeks warm with anger at the sight of her six-year-old son holding a utility knife in his tiny hands. The sound of her voice caused Kitt to let go of the plastic handle and pull back, leaving the incriminating object in Burke’s hand.
“Hey,” Burke greeted her, his tone belying his confused expression. “What’s up?”
“What’s up?” She experienced another swell of ire and moved forward to pluck the utility knife from Burke’s hand, careful to avoid the sharp end. Belatedly, she realized it had a safety mechanism that prevented the blade from remaining out. It was securely sheathed beneath a plastic guard. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
She was not about to let this offense go. “What do you think you’re doing, giving a knife to a child?”
Burke blinked, his lips parting in surprise. “I was right here. Nothing was going to happen.”
“He’s six years old, Burke. You can’t let him play with a knife.”
“He wasn’t playing,” Burke defended. “We were patching drywall.”
Erin’s lips pursed. This was why it was a bad idea for Burke to live at the inn. He just didn’t understand. He hadn’t been around kids enough. He didn’t know what was acceptable and what wasn’t. He wasn’t Kitt’s father—
She drew this thought up short. Of course Burke wasn’t Kitt’s father. But he was his uncle. And in truth, Erin couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Kitt interact with anyone the way he’d been interacting with Burke a moment ago. Some of her anger deflated.
Some. But not all.
“You have to be more responsible, Burke. If you plan to live here—”
“Whoa. Hold on.” Burke held up a hand. “This is temporary, Erin. I’m not planning to stay here long. Just until I can figure out what’s next.”
These words should have relieved her. But she experienced a pang of disappointment instead.
Kitt stood to his feet then, turned and hurried away, his tiny footfalls echoing through the upstairs hall as he headed downstairs. She sighed.
“What did I say?” Burke asked, confusion evident in his tone.
Erin didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure what Kitt’s abrupt departure meant. Maybe her and Burke’s disagreement had bothered him. He wasn’t used to hearing Erin raise her voice. He rarely gave her reason to.
“I should talk to him,” she said and headed toward the stairs.
“Erin, wait.”
She halted, her heartbeat picking up speed as Burke came up behind her.
“Are we...good?”
She tensed at the question, too aware of how closely Burke stood. She could see every dark fleck in his eyes, and the way his lashes started out dark and then lightened toward the tips. Gavin’s eyelashes had been a dark brown the whole way through. She swallowed.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Burke shifted from one foot to the other, the action moving him just slightly away from her. It was all she could do to keep from leaning in his direction to bring him closer again.
He scratched the back of his head, looking uncomfortable.
“I just meant...I don’t want it to be weird for you, with me staying here. I know it’s where you and Gavin—”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She crossed her arms over her chest, willing Burke to drop the conversation. She didn’t want to think about what his words meant. She didn’t want to relive a past that needed to stay buried.
Burke stopped talking when she interrupted him, but his eyes were intent on hers. She blinked, refusing to look away. Refusing to back down. She would pretend as though his presence didn’t affect her, that none of it touched her. She was a master of denying her emotions.
She’d had to be or her grief would have pulled her under a long time ago.
She stared him down until his features smoothed out, understanding darkening his eyes.
“Okay then.”
She gave a short nod and made to move past him. He blocked her way for a moment longer.
“This is only temporary, Erin. I promise.”
She didn’t react, and after another few seconds, he stepped aside to let her pass. As she brushed by him, she schooled her features to a blank slate so he couldn’t see the turmoil inside her.
* * *
AFTER HIS ENCOUNTER with Erin, Burke finished up a few more of the drywall repairs on the second floor. His chores eventually led him to the large windows overlooking the Moontide’s expansive backyard. He paused to stare out the window, admiring the gazebo that had been the showcase for so many weddings over the years.
When he and Tessa had first begun planning their wedding, she had suggested the Moontide as the venue. He had been adamant in his refusal, and when Allan had proposed holding the wedding at the Delphine, Burke had pushed Tessa in that direction. She’d broached the subject of the Moontide only once, asking why he seemed to have such bitter memories of the only real home he’d known after his parents’ death.
He’d been sharp in his response, snapping something about the Moontide and all it represented for him—family vacations that he’d lost, memories that had been stolen before they were made. Tessa, with her typical sweetness, had not taken his tone to heart but rather wrapped her arms around him and replied, “Then we’ll create new memories, enough for two lifetimes, to make up for the ones you never had.”
Her goodness shamed him. She’d been understanding, far more than she should have been, especially because his answer to her was only part of the truth. The Moontide represented not only the childhood that had been taken from him...but the woman he’d once loved.
Even though she’d chosen his brother over him.
He ground his teeth, conflicting emotions assaulting him. He missed Tessa. If she were here now, she’d find a way to lift his spirits without pushing him to share what had soured his mood. Tessa had a way of knowing when he just needed her to wrap her arms around him without speaking a word. He would miss having that in his life.
Thinking of Tessa prompted him to pull his phone out of his back pocket and check the screen. No missed calls. No new texts. A couple of email alerts but nothing urgent. He clicked into the screen and began typing a new message.
Tess, are you...
He stopped and deleted the last two words and started again.
Tess, I’m sorry for...
He stopped a second time but continued to stare at the screen until the light dimmed and the phone went dark. He’d just lost the woman who was supposed to be his wife. Shouldn’t he have something to say to her?
With a sigh, he pocketed the phone and looked out over the backyard once more. As his gaze swept the overgrown lawn, his eyes caught on a flicker of movement behind one of the white oak trees. He looked closer and noticed a small foot, moving back and forth, nearly hidden from view but just barely visible with the movement.
Even from this distance, he recognized Kitt’s sneaker. His nephew must have fled outside after he’d left him and Erin earlier.
Burke stood there for another minute, waiting to see if the little boy made any moves to come inside. When he didn’t, Burke decided he’d earned a break from his repairs and headed for the stairs so he could step outside and check on his nephew.
* * *
BURKE FOUND KITT in the same position he’d witnessed from the second floor windows. The little boy was hidden behind the trunk of one of the Moontide’s ancient oaks, his foot moving back and forth to the silent rhythm that had betrayed his position. He had a book in his lap, but he wasn’t reading. The day was warming up, with only a smattering of clouds in the sky. The rain from yesterday had dried up, and the ground was dry as Burke sat down beside his nephew.
“Hey,” he greeted.
Kitt didn’t respond, didn’t so much as look at Burke.
“I wanted to thank you for your help this morning,” Burke continued, unfazed by Kitt’s silence. “Why’d you run off? We were only halfway done with the drywall repairs.”
Kitt still said nothing. His silence was nearly palpable, his sadness even more so.
“Did your leaving have something to do with...your mom and me?”
Though Kitt didn’t speak, he shifted noticeably.
“Sorry, little man. Your mom and I, we...well, she had a good point. I should have been more careful with that knife.”
“It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have touched it. Mom always tells me not to touch knives.”
The words came in such a rush that Burke suspected Kitt had been holding them in ever since Erin had confronted him earlier that morning.
“I didn’t mean to get you in trouble,” Kitt mumbled, his voice so low that Burke had to lean in close to hear him. He smiled at Kitt’s concern.
“Who, me? Don’t worry about it. Your mom won’t stay mad for long.”
He didn’t know about that last part. There was a time when Erin wouldn’t have stayed mad at him. But a lot had changed since then, an ocean of silence and distance. It occurred to him, however, that maybe Erin needed him more than she let on. Not because of the friendship they’d once shared but because of what she’d lost.
What they’d all lost. Gavin.
If anyone knew what a grounding force Gavin had been, it was Burke. His older brother had held him up after the death of their parents. He’d stepped into the gap of loss and filled it as best he could. Though death had brought instability and grief, Gavin had been the one constant to see Burke through the hard times. Burke had taken that for granted, not only as a child but into adulthood. He’d been selfish in keeping his distance, assuming Gavin would always be there.
But in the end, the brother he’d idolized had been a mere mortal when death came calling. He sniffed, his eyes filling at the thought. He blinked away the tears, refusing to let Kitt see him cry. When his vision cleared, he saw his nephew was watching him.
“You think that’s true? About Mom not staying mad?”
He forced a grin. “Are you kidding? How can she stay mad at two of the most handsome guys in Findlay Roads?” He nudged Kitt, trying to draw a laugh. The most he got was the ghost of a smile.
They sat in silence for another couple of minutes. Kitt didn’t seem uncomfortable, but the sadness that constantly surrounded him lingered in the air between them. Burke tried to think of something else to say, words that could draw Kitt out of his shell.
“You asked me this morning about your dad, and stuff he did when we were kids.”
It wasn’t Burke’s first choice of conversation, but he found himself desperate to lighten Kitt’s mood. If that meant talking about the past, well, then, he’d give it a try.
“He loved to make people laugh,” Burke began, “and he could be a shameless prankster. For years, I thought he liked eating bugs.”
Kitt’s brows furrowed together. “Why?”
“Because he’d pretend to see a bug, like a fly or whatever, and he’d act like he swatted it or stomped on it to kill it, then he’d reach down, pick it up and pop it in his mouth.”
Kitt’s eyes went wide. “He really ate bugs?”
Burke smiled. “No. He usually had something else in his hand, like a raisin or a piece of food that just looked like a bug. And that’s what he’d eat. But he was so tricky with the sleight of hand that I didn’t catch on for a long time that he wasn’t really eating bugs.”
“What’s sleight of hand?” Kitt asked.
“Like when a magician pulls a quarter from your ear, but he didn’t really find it in your ear—it was in his hand all along.”
Kitt narrowed his eyes. “Show me.”
Burke laughed. “I don’t have a quarter on me just now, but I promise I’ll show you later.”
Kitt seemed satisfied with this. “So, what else?”
“What else?”
“What else did my dad used to do?”
“Oh, right. Um, well, a couple of times a year, he’d wake me up early on a Saturday and tell me we had to go to school.”
“But Saturday is a no-school day,” Kitt pointed out.
“I know, but your dad would always try to convince me it was a special day. Once, he said it was because we have snow days sometimes so we had to go to school on Saturdays to make up for it. I bought into it, and I’d end up dressed and ready to go before my mom finally realized what was going on and told me I could go back to bed. I was usually wide awake by then, which was exactly what Gavin wanted. Then he’d rope me into playing ball or riding our bikes or whatever.”
Burke fell silent, remembering how he’d felt, flying along on his bike beside his big brother. Once he was grown, he learned that most older brothers considered their siblings pests. Not Gavin. He’d always treated Burke like his best friend, even more so after their parents were gone. A painful lump lodged itself in his throat. He should have spent more time with his brother while he had the chance. Now he’d never have the opportunity again.
“Did you get mad at him?”
“Hmm?” Burke had to reorient himself to understand Kitt’s question.
“Did you get mad at him? For playing tricks on you?”
Burke thought about it. “Not really,” he softly admitted. “It might sound weird, but all his teasing made me feel, I don’t know, special. Like he did that stuff because he wanted to make me laugh. I don’t know how to explain it.”
Burke tried to find the right words so he could explain to Kitt that was just how his dad was. There was no malice in Gavin’s pranks. He did those things to lift people’s spirits. His brother had been one of the most bighearted people he’d ever known.
“No one laughs anymore, now that he’s gone,” Kitt said.
The words were like an arrow, straight through Burke’s heart. “It’s hard, losing someone you love. Your dad and I lost both our mom and dad. We were older than you when it happened though. It takes time, but I promise, Kitt, you will learn to laugh again.”
Kitt didn’t look convinced. “What about my mom?”
“Your mom?”
“Yeah, will she learn to laugh again, too?”
Burke frowned. He hadn’t noticed it, but now that Kitt brought it up, he realized Erin’s laughter had been a rare thing in the last year and a half that he’d been back in Findlay Roads. If Gavin had been here, that would have been his top priority.
Making Erin laugh again.
“One day, she will, Kitt. I promise.”
But nearly two whole years had passed since Gavin’s death. How long would it take for Erin to laugh again?
* * *
BURKE WAITED UNTIL after dinner to approach Erin. He volunteered to do the dishes while Aunt Lenora took Kitt into the living room. Erin helped finish tidying up a few things and then disappeared. Burke took his time, rinsing off dishes and loading them into the dishwasher, then wiping down the counters and table. When he felt everything was sufficiently in order, he went in search of Erin.
He found her curled up in an armchair on the inn’s veranda, staring out at the backyard. She didn’t even look up as he took the seat next to her.
He sat in silence, listening to the chirp of crickets and the distant sounds of the nearby bay. The air was tinged with damp, and there was the faint scent of burning wood in the air, probably from someone’s bonfire. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering many evenings much like this one, with him and Erin sitting in companionable silence. But then he remembered how long gone those days were, and he opened his eyes.
“I’m sorry about earlier today, letting Kitt handle the utility knife.”
She didn’t speak, but he caught the faintest shift in her posture, a flicker of interest at his apology.
“You were right, I need to be more careful.”
She relaxed, some of the stiffness leaving her shoulders, but she didn’t look at him. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Burke let silence fall for a few minutes before speaking again.
“You know, he said something to me today. Kitt did, I mean.”
She cocked her head in his direction without shifting to face him.
“He asked me if you were ever going to laugh again,” Burke said.
This statement finally drew her full attention. She turned to look at him.
“I didn’t realize it until he asked me that, but he’s right. You never laugh anymore.”
Erin winced. “There’s no timetable for grief. I can’t just will myself to laugh again.”
“I know, I know,” Burke hastened to reassure her, noting her slightly bitter tone. “But Aunt Lenora is concerned, too. She said you don’t get out enough.”
“What? Am I supposed to play the part of the merry widow?”
She was even more prickly than usual tonight. He wondered what had put her in such a foul mood. Maybe it was him. He knew she wasn’t comfortable with him staying here.
“Erin, I’m not trying to be critical. You’ve lost a lot, and no one expects you to just shake that off and be happy again. But for Kitt’s sake—” It was the wrong thing to say, and he knew it the instant the words left his mouth.
She stood to her feet with sharp, abrupt movements and stepped past where he was sitting. “Don’t tell me how to raise my son. You barely know him.”
“But I’d like to know him.”
That brought her up short. She froze, halfway to the inn’s back door, but she didn’t turn around.
“I know I wasn’t around much, after he was born, but now that I’m here—”
She whirled on her heel, eyes sparking. “And why are you here?”
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Why are you here, Burke?”
He felt a prickle of irritation. Did she want him to relive the humiliation of his failed wedding from the day before?
“You know why. I had nowhere to go, after Tessa...left.”
She made a quick, impatient gesture with her hand, dismissing this explanation. “Not now. Why did you come back to Findlay Roads at all? You missed Gavin’s funeral. You sent an impersonal card to us and wrote only one sentence. One. So sorry for your loss. And then, six months later, you show up here, as if nothing had changed.”
“That is not fair,” he snapped, rising to his feet. “Everything had changed.”
“Not for you! You’d barely been home in years—”
“I lost my brother!” he cut her off. “I lost my best friend! You think you’re the only one who has grief to manage? You’re not alone in this, Erin. You’re not the only one who misses him.”
He could see her jaw working, teeth grinding beneath the skin. He couldn’t tell if she was searching for words or simply trying to contain her emotions.
“But don’t you see?” she murmured, her voice raspy. “You’d left years ago, you had all this time and distance already. How can you possibly know what it felt like to lose him, without a choice?”
Burke’s tone turned cool, the words low but hard. “But I do know. You forget that I lost both my parents without a choice. And then my brother, too. Without a choice.”
Erin’s jaw clenched tight, and he could tell she was holding back the things she wanted to say. He knew the expression well. It had haunted him for a long time. It was the same countenance she’d worn over the years, during the handful of times he’d come back to town. It was part of the reason he visited so little—it was a look he hated because it only emphasized the distance that had grown between them when they had once been so close.
When she finally spoke, she said nothing more about Gavin but rather warned, “Just don’t get so close to Kitt that you break his heart when you leave.”
With that, she turned on her heel and headed back inside, leaving him to wonder just whose heart she was really worried about him breaking.
CHAPTER FIVE (#ud202ade5-d063-59e8-b4a5-985d137fa226)
THE FIGHT WITH Burke stayed with Erin for days. She spent Sunday night tossing and turning, following their heated exchange, and after running a few errands the next morning, she spent the entire drive back to the B&B voicing her frustration to her car’s empty interior. She cleaned the inn’s bedrooms with unnecessary force, carefully checking the hall before moving on to another room so she didn’t run into Burke as he emerged from the Galway Room.
When she was finally forced to face him as they all sat down to dinner on Monday evening, she kept her tone polite but cool and didn’t engage him in conversation. Aunt Lenora carried the dinnertime dialogue anyway, chattering more than she had in months, about the weather, the influx of summer tourists, local news and the repairs Burke had undertaken on the inn. She praised her great-nephew for the work he’d done, and while Erin knew she should have added her appreciation, she couldn’t bring herself to speak up. She was too busy fuming.
It bothered her that she was still so angry, especially by Wednesday when she didn’t understand why she couldn’t let go of her frustration with her brother-in-law. Why did she care what Burke thought? True, they had once been friends...more perhaps...but those days were long past, and she had convinced herself years ago that none of it had mattered.
Then why did Burke’s presence unnerve her so? And why was she reliving their argument, at least a dozen times a day?
The Moontide had guests arriving on Thursday, and Erin was putting final touches on the upstairs bedrooms when she ran into Burke in the hall.
He’d been working tirelessly all week, doing minor repairs and updates to the house. The Moontide had been around for a long time, and while it had undergone extensive renovations over the years, it had been too long since some necessary upkeep had been done. Erin was impressed with how much Burke had accomplished over the last five days since he’d come to stay. She suspected he was keeping busy to take his mind off his failed wedding, but a small part of her wondered if he was working to avoid her as much as she was trying to avoid him.
When they stumbled across each other in the hall—quite literally, since Erin tripped over the edge of a loose piece of carpet—she fell right into his arms, as he tried to keep her from falling.
“Hey, sorry, I was just getting ready to fix that carpet.”
She was too aware of his arms around her, one hand on her back, the heat of his palm seeping through her shirt and into her skin. She pulled away and righted herself.
“It’s fine.”
She turned to go, and she might have pretended not to hear him calling her name, if his voice hadn’t taken on such a pleading tone.
“Erin.”
She paused, willing herself to keep moving forward. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say. And yet...she did.
“Can we talk?”
She should have told him no. She should have said they had nothing to talk about. He would move on soon enough—there was no point in putting her faith in Burke. He’d already proven it was a lost cause.
But no matter the reasons, she couldn’t convince herself to walk away from him. She turned.
“Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
Her agreement must have surprised him because he looked unexpectedly flustered. A small smile stole its way onto her mouth. It was gratifying to put Burke off his guard. Her tiny grin must have soothed his uneasiness because his shoulders relaxed.
“I thought we could talk about what happened on Sunday night.”
“All right,” she agreed. “So talk.”
He drew a deep breath, some of the tension stealing back into his shoulders.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he said, “for the funeral. And I’m sorry for how long it took me to come back, after Gavin died. It was self-serving and wrong and...” He sighed. “I just couldn’t deal. I couldn’t come back here. As long as I stayed away, nothing had changed. Gavin was still alive. I knew that the minute I set foot in Findlay Roads, I’d know he was really gone. I’d sense it. And then, I’d have to learn to accept it.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “It took you six months. Six months. I needed you here.”
Saying those words triggered some sort of release. Months of pent-up emotion suddenly found their way to the surface, and she began to weep.
“I was alone, Burke. You were the only one—” her breath hitched on a sob “—who could have understood what losing him did to me.”
He didn’t say anything, and she feared she’d pushed him too far. But she couldn’t see through the blur of her own tears. She wouldn’t blame him if he thought her selfish. It had been nearly two years since Gavin’s death, while it had been less than a week since Tessa had left him at the altar. Not the same in terms of grief, but she knew he still had to be smarting from the rejection.
Before she could open her mouth to apologize, she found herself back in his arms. He wrapped them so tightly around her that for a minute, she lost her concentration and couldn’t remember what had set her crying in the first place.
Within seconds, it came back to her and the stability of Burke’s embrace released another flood of tears. This was what she had needed, two years ago. Someone to hold her, to remind her she was not as alone in the world as she felt. She needed some essence of Gavin, some small thread to cling to. It was why she had often gone into Kitt’s room at night, long after he’d fallen into a restless sleep, and wrapped her arms tightly around him. Kitt was a piece of Gavin, an anchor to keep her tethered to this life, no matter how much she might want to drift away.
On some level, she had known it was wrong to wish for Burke during those dark days. Her emotions had been a torment of guilt for wanting him there and anger that he hadn’t come back.
Even now, the sharp claws of shame dug into her, but she couldn’t pull away. His hand stroked her back in slow, soothing movements, and she felt some tension drain out of her. It felt good to be held like this, to feel so safe and secure. She let her head rest against his chest, counting the steady beats of his heart as the crown of her head brushed against his jaw.
She didn’t know how long they stood like that. Far longer than what was appropriate, she knew, but she didn’t want him to let her go. She finally shifted, trying to turn her head to look at him, and her lips came in perilously close contact to his. He froze, and so did she, only a breath apart.
She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to remember what it was like to be loved, wanted. Her eyes slid closed, and she willed herself to walk away from him. But she couldn’t.
“Erin?”
The sound of Aunt Lenora’s voice broke the spell. Erin and Burke jumped apart at the same time.
“Erin, where did you put the welcome packets for the guests?”
She couldn’t look at Burke. “They’re in the bottom right desk drawer in the foyer,” she called down the stairs.
Aunt Lenora didn’t respond, and Erin presumed she’d shuffled off to search the desk for the preassembled packets Erin kept on hand for new arrivals.
“Thank you,” she finally managed.
Burke’s tone was puzzled. “For what?”
She finally looked at him. He was stone-cold serious, his blue eyes almost gray. His T-shirt was damp with her tears, dark smudges marring the pale blue color. He had Gavin’s lips. When she realized that’s where her gaze had wandered, she jerked her eyes away from his mouth.
“For being here.”
“You don’t think I’m too late?” he asked, his voice soft.
She wasn’t entirely sure what he meant. Too late for what? To say goodbye to Gavin? To be here for her, Aunt Lenora and Kitt? Or was there something even deeper to his question?
“You’re here now. That’s what counts.”
She was torn between wanting to hear what he might say next and avoiding questions that she couldn’t answer. She turned to go and then stopped.
“Gavin would be glad.”
And then she hurried down the stairs to see if Aunt Lenora needed any help.
* * *
ERIN WAS KNEE-DEEP in a stack of invoices and receipts that needed filing but had been unable to maintain her focus that entire Friday morning. After the roller coaster of emotions from the last week, she had yet to regain her equilibrium. First, her fight with Burke, her outrage over the next several days and then yesterday, his apology where she’d ended up in his arms...
She shook her head, realizing she’d been staring at the same sheet of paper for...six minutes, a quick glance at the clock confirmed. She had tried to make excuses to herself, reasons why she had experienced the insane desire to be kissed by Burke the day before. It was just a reflex, a reminder of the past, a call to her youth.
She and Burke had been so close that summer Gavin had been away, and they’d shared one unbelievable kiss. Her body had reacted in similar fashion to what she had experienced back then. That was all. She was not attracted to Burke.
She could not be attracted to Burke. He was recovering from a failed wedding, a lost fiancée. And she was—or had been—married to his brother. It didn’t matter that she was a widow now. Falling for Burke felt like a betrayal of Gavin.
She was simply thankful, she decided, relieved that she and Burke had made some sort of amends and grateful for how he’d managed to draw Kitt out over the last week. As a result of her gratitude, she’d felt...something. That was only natural...wasn’t it?
She forced herself to file a few invoices, making a conscious effort to clear her mind from thoughts of Burke. But within minutes, she was staring blankly at her desk once more, remembering the feel of his hand stroking her back as she’d cried. When was the last time she’d been held by someone, been comforted? For so long now, she’d tried to be the strong one—for Aunt Lenora, for Kitt, trying to keep the inn afloat and stick to routines. Kitt’s counselor had said routines were important.
But since Burke had come to stay at the inn, their routines had been shattered, and Kitt was happier than she’d seen him in a very long time. Maybe routines weren’t all they were cracked up to be. Maybe she needed to shake things up once in a while.
Or maybe it wasn’t the routines or lack thereof. Maybe it was just Burke. She’d missed him, all these years, she realized. She’d missed having him as her friend, the person she’d always been able to share her deepest, darkest secrets with. She’d missed that. She’d missed him.
“Trying to stare a hole through that desk?”
She jumped at the sound of his voice, turning her attention from the paperwork to see him leaning against the doorframe to the inn’s office. His hair fell across his forehead, and her heart gave a little jerk in response. There was nothing particularly inappropriate in the way he grinned at her, but the feel of his eyes on her caused her to flame in embarrassment just the same. With a considerable amount of effort, she forced her gaze away from Burke and down to the paperwork in front of her.
“Just trying to make ends meet,” she said and then immediately regretted her choice of words. The inn’s struggle wasn’t something she wanted to burden him with. He’d made it clear, in the years of his absence, that he wanted nothing to do with the inn. A part of her feared that if she troubled him with the inn’s situation, it would cause him to flee. Which was strange because she had told herself repeatedly that she didn’t care whether Burke stayed in Findlay Roads or left again.
“You spend too much time scowling over those accounts,” he said, stepping fully into the room.
Her frown only deepened at his words. When had Burke noticed the amount of time she spent reviewing the inn’s financial statements? The idea that he’d been observing her made her feel a little uneasy but mostly, secretly thrilled. She quashed the emotion.
“Well, you know what they say—it’s a dirty job and all that.”
Burke arched an eyebrow. “But why are you the one doing it?”
The tone of his voice, somehow disapproving, made her raise her head.
“What do you mean? Who else is going to do it?”
Again, she’d voiced more than she intended. Burke didn’t need to know just how much of the inn’s responsibilities she’d taken on in the last few years, nor did she want him aware of just how deeply the business was sinking into the red.
“Well, can’t you hire someone to take care of the office stuff?”
She snorted, a gut reaction she failed to check in time. “Um, no.” She looked back at her desk and straightened her spine. “I mean, it’s fine. I don’t mind doing it.”
Not entirely the truth—the details of office work had never been her thing, but she loved the inn and was determined to bring things back on an even keel. With Aunt Lenora getting older and Gavin gone, it was up to her to keep the business afloat. It had been her and Gavin’s dream—to run the B&B, make it their home, raise their children there together and grow old surrounded by its walls.
The inn had a rich history of families who had lived in it—from the time it was first built after the Revolutionary War, surviving the attack by the British on Findlay Roads during the War of 1812, serving as a spot on the Underground Railroad before the Civil War and sheltering generations of families up until the present day. The inn was old, but it was still alive with voices from the past.
Erin ran a hand across the worn, wooden surface of her desk. She couldn’t remember its provenance, but she knew Gavin had told her it had belonged to a great-great-great-someone-or-other. Erin might have preferred to be in the kitchen of the B&B instead of the office, but she loved every square inch of this place.
Her attention shifted from the desk’s surface to its edge as Burke came over and leaned against it.
“It’s past lunchtime. When was the last time you took a break?”
She glanced at the clock and felt a stab of shock. How had it gotten so late? She swept a glance across her desk. And how had she gotten so little accomplished in that amount of time?
“I ate this morning, after the guests did.”
Burke arched an eyebrow. “Wasn’t that at like seven or eight o’clock?”
As if in reply, Erin’s stomach issued an audible growl. Burke laughed.
“I guess that answers that. Come on. It’s time you ate something.”
Erin hesitated. “I have too much to do. I’ll just make a sandwich and eat at my desk.”
“I don’t think so.” His tone was playful but also firm. “You need a break.”
“I’ll be fine,” she hedged.
Burke shook his head. “Erin, you do know you’re not good to any of us if you don’t take care of yourself first, don’t you?”
The words warmed her, a feeling of belonging settling on her spirit. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had tried to take care of her. In the months after Gavin’s death, there had been plenty of phone calls, cards, flowers and visits... But it had been almost two long years since his passing. In that time, everyone else had moved on, even if she still felt stuck in limbo. For so much of her marriage, Gavin had been deployed overseas. There were still some days when she woke up and started her day, not even thinking about the fact that Gavin wasn’t just away—that he was never coming back.
“It’s a beautiful day,” Burke pressed. “Kitt and I packed a picnic lunch, but it’s way too much food for just the two of us.”
She felt the tug of temptation. “What about Aunt Lenora?”
“Kitt and I took her to the community center for the afternoon. Then we ran errands, picked up some stuff for the picnic.”
Erin checked the clock again. Maybe if she stepped away she could clear her head. Although that seemed unlikely given that Burke was a large part of her mental distraction, and here she was, thinking of joining him for a picnic.
“Come on,” Burke coaxed. “I promise it’ll be worth your while.”
She pretended to narrow her eyes with suspicion. “I’m not sure what your game is, Daniels, but I’ll play along.” She pushed back from the desk and ignored a stab of guilt. She was only taking a quick lunch break. She’d make up the hours later tonight, after she put Kitt to bed and prepped the morning’s breakfast.
Besides, she was starving, and she remembered that Burke always packed the most creative picnic baskets. A surge of giddiness swept away any lingering doubts. It had been years since she’d been on a picnic. What could an hour away from the inn hurt?
CHAPTER SIX (#ud202ade5-d063-59e8-b4a5-985d137fa226)
WHEN THEY ARRIVED at the park, Burke led the way, carrying the inn’s battered picnic basket in one hand and a worn, blue-checkered blanket in the other. The weather had provided the perfect excuse to lure Erin outside—the day was mild for June, with the temperature hovering in the mid-seventies, the sun shining brightly and a faint breeze coming in off the Bay to keep things comfortable, even in direct sunlight. The park was busy, but not nearly as hectic as it would be over the weekend if the weather stayed this nice.
It was one of those days that almost made him forget why he ever left Findlay Roads. Though he’d traveled the world, on a day like today, it felt like the best place on earth was right here by the Chesapeake.
Kitt kept pace beside him, and though his nephew didn’t speak, Burke sensed their outing excited the little boy. Burke stopped walking when they reached the lighthouse and then felt a twinge of hesitation when he saw the expression on Erin’s face. She paled and tucked her lower lip between her teeth.
“Is everything okay?”
“Um...yeah. Sure. Of course.” It was too many reassurances, and he thought about calling her out on it. But then she grabbed the blanket out of his hands and began spreading it on the grass, and he decided to let it go.
Even though they weren’t the only ones with the idea to take advantage of the beautiful day by heading to the park, there was no one in their immediate vicinity. A couple of guys were throwing a Frisbee back and forth nearby, a family was circling the lighthouse (likely visitors doing the town’s walking tour) and a couple was spread out on the grass a few hundred yards away.
He helped Erin straighten the blanket and then placed the picnic basket on the fabric’s edge. Kitt was busy studying an ant mound he’d found in the grass as Erin settled herself on the blanket. She reached for the picnic basket, but Burke grabbed her wrist before she could make contact. He was suddenly in tune with her pulse, jumping erratically beneath her skin, and felt her skin warm beneath his touch. He released her as though burned and cleared his throat.
“Sorry, but not yet.”
Erin pulled her hand back into her lap and kept her head lowered. He saw the telltale hint of a blush staining her cheeks and was embarrassed that he’d gotten things off to such an awkward start. He decided the only way to break the rising tension was to push forward with his plan.
“So, do you remember how, on your eighteenth birthday, you were all bummed because Gavin was deployed, and you thought everyone else had forgotten it?”
Her head lifted, her cheeks returning to a normal hue. “Yeah.” A faint smile ghosted her lips. “My mom was out of town visiting friends, and Dad never called from wherever he was stationed. I was pretty grumpy that whole weekend.”
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