Write Me Home

by Crystal Walton

  “You need to let your hair down. Pretend you’re an eighth grader again.”

  Her arms came undone. “What?”

  The main building passed on his left. “Think about it. You’re going to be running a camp for kids. It might be helpful to see things from their perspective.”

  There were those fierce hazel eyes again. Was he digging his own grave?

  He swung his arms out. “Take a look around you. This place is full of memories, right? Why not relive them? Be a kid again.”

  She stopped under the pine trees behind the building. “I’m not a child, Ethan.”

  He retraced the steps he’d taken and edged so close, her soft inhale almost drew him even closer. “Maybe it’s time you remember how to be one.” A current he hadn’t expected held him in place, her face right beneath his. Did she have any idea how gripping those hazel eyes were?

  Ti coughed, and he stepped back before he risked losing his room. Staring at the roots by his feet, he kneaded his shoulder blade and cleared his throat. “What are some of your favorite memories from here?”

  “Climbing trees,” Ti answered for her.

  Ethan looked up. “Really?”

  “She was the fastest climber at camp. Even beat the boys.”

  He smirked. This he had to see.

  Ti swung around the trunk beside them and pointed up. “Her initials are carved at the top of this one.”

  Shielding his eyes, he craned his neck beneath the massive pine.

  Cassidy blew it off. “That was over a decade ago.”

  Obviously not long enough to lose the pride in her tone. “So, you’re saying you can’t beat me to the top right now?” She made taunting her too easy.

  Her lashes fluttered off the bait. “We have work to do.”

  “Oh, c’mon. I’ll even give you a head start.”

  She cocked her head. “What are we, like twelve?”

  He rubbed his hands together. “One . . .”

  “Ethan, we don’t have time to play around all day.”

  “Two . . .”

  She stood her ground. “I’m not racing you.”

  “Thre—” A solid shove to his chest sent him stumbling backward down the hill. By the time he caught his balance, she’d already scaled at least five branches.

  Ti stood against the trunk, laughing. “You did offer a head start.”

  Shaking his head, he hustled up to the base and leaped for the closest branch. “So, that’s how you won all those times?” he called up to her. “Cheater.”

  Pine needles falling into his face were her only response. He stretched and climbed. Wind picked up the higher he went. He might’ve had strength, but she definitely had speed. And experience.

  Above him, she dangled her legs off a branch, claiming her throne on top of the world. “Guess it hasn’t been that long since I’ve been up here.”

  “I knew you had it in you.” He ducked around a series of smaller branches and pulled himself up to one beside her.

  She returned his smile but kept her focus on the bark while running her fingers over the carvings. “I didn’t expect to see these ever again.”

  “You mean scaling to the top of a pine tree wasn’t in your plans?”

  She plucked a pinecone and flicked it at him. “Nothing you make me do is in my plans.”

  He caught the cone and laughed. “Oh, make you do, huh? I’m pretty sure your fist hit my chest all on its own down there.”

  “Well, you instigated.”

  No denying that. But he’d do it all over again. In a heartbeat, if it meant getting to see her up here, red curls blowing in the breeze, face alive in the sunlight. Where was the camera when he needed it most?

  He rubbed the patches of sap glued to his skin and turned his palms toward her. “Penance?”

  She brushed her thumb over his hand. An unguarded smile blazed back at him with almost more intensity than the sensation of her touch.

  “I know a secret for getting that off, but I’m not sure you’ve earned it.”

  Scowling, he extended his scratched-up arms. “Do these count?”

  “Baby.” She smirked while brandishing her own battle scars.

  Pain taken in stride. If those scratches stung anywhere near as much as his did, she hid it well. Was that what she’d been doing this whole time? Hiding? He slipped a hand under her arm and brought it toward him. “Looks pretty bad.”

  “I hear there’s a medic on the grounds.” She laughed. Genuinely.

  The sound curled around him. “That’s nice.”

  “What?”

  “Hearing you laugh. You should try it more often.”

  She drew her arm to her lap and locked her eyes on it as if her gaze would bring supernatural healing.

  “Relax, boss. I’m just an employee making an observation.” He lowered his head under hers until he met her gaze. “Or a friend.”

  She lifted her chin but looked out across the top of the tree line. Away from him. The pressure she carried on her shoulders was all but crushing her. He’d seen it since day one. Why couldn’t she see he was trying to help?

  “Cassidy, renovating the camp is a big undertaking.”

  Her back stiffened. Even covered in sap and feathers, she upheld a level of dignity like no one he’d ever met.

  “I’m not saying you’re incapable.”

  Her chin drooped. “And what exactly are you saying?”

  Nothing right, apparently. He scooted forward on the branch and straightened his jeans. After finding a small opening in her armor today, he didn’t want it to close again. “It’s easy to get so driven by a goal that we lose ourselves in the process. Forget why we even started.” He ran his fingers down the bark. “Sometimes, we have to take a step back from it all and just be, you know?”

  Vulnerability practically bled through her soft eyes. “What if we lost who we were a long time ago?”

  He swallowed, fighting the need to pull her into his arms and heal whatever hurts she carried. “Then we find someone who can remind us.”

  She flinched as gravel crunched under tires rolling up the driveway. They both peered down. One glimpse of a blue Saab approaching was enough to turn Ethan’s blood cold.

  What was he doing here? Ethan balled his fists, about to climb down and use them. Except that’d mean ending a moment with Cass he wasn’t ready to let go of yet. Not that he had a choice. The look on her face made it clear it was already gone.

  chapter seven

  Slammed

  Nick Ashton. Just the thought of his name made Ethan cringe. What did he think he was doing, showing up here?

  Cassidy strode toward the car, plucking feathers off as she went. Behind her, Ethan didn’t bother with his. As soon as Nick’s face came into view, the feathers would probably burn off his skin on their own.

  Nick stepped out from the driver’s side as Cassidy approached. “Well, don’t you look . . . ?”

  “Ridiculous?” She tried to shake a stubborn feather from her fingers.

  He steadied her wrist and pulled it off. “I was going to say adorable.”

  Eyes rolling, Ethan barely choked back a few words he wanted to say himself. He was already gagging on the guy’s cologne. Jeez, did he take a bath in it or something? He could’ve gotten a secondhand buzz standing five feet away from the guy. What he’d do for a fire hose right now. . .

  Cass rubbed a thumb over her palm. “How’d you know where to find me?”

  Nick shrugged. “Small town.”

  They shared a laugh. “Speaking of which.” He ducked into the car and withdrew a bouquet of yellow flowers. “Only seemed fair for one windflower to be among others.”

  Windflower? Please tell me she’s not buying into whatever load of crap this loser’s dishing out. And how did they even know each other?

  Nick removed another feather from her curls.

  Okay, that was enough. Ethan circled the hood and took up post beside her.

  Nick lowered his arm and g
ave him a curt nod. “Ethan.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Cassidy looked between them. “You two know each other?”

  Unfortunately. “I’m from here, remember? I think the question fits you better.” He cringed at how that came out. What was with the jealous boyfriend routine? They weren’t dating. Heck, they were hardly friends. But this wasn’t about them. It was about Nick.

  Enough heat radiated off her to burn a hole through the overcast skyline. “Excuse me?”

  With his fists still clenched, he didn’t back down. He’d probably pay for his insubordination later, but he didn’t care. Not while Flower Boy looked at her like a petal he could hold in the palm of his hand.

  Nick fiddled with his keys. “Well, I’m sure you both have a lot to do. I’m actually on my way to check on some work myself. Just stopped by to remind you of my offer.”

  “What offer?” Ethan hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

  Like it mattered. They both ignored him.

  Nick leaned against the frame above his door. “Still got that number?”

  She nodded.

  He smiled while climbing into his Saab. “Guess I’ll see you around, then.” He reversed and revved his engine on the way out.

  All these years, and he was still overcompensating.

  Ethan coughed and waved away the exhaust. Though, he had a feeling whatever reprimand was about to leave Cassidy’s mouth might be harder to swallow. Instead, she trotted up the stairs and through the door with the flowers in hand.

  Ti flittered onto the scene. How much had she seen?

  She grinned. “Bold.”

  “Is that what you call it?” He stretched out his neck. “I was thinking more along the lines of a glutton for punishment.”

  “That, too.”

  Behind them, Cassidy pushed through the screen door on her way back out. He squared his feet, bracing for impact.

  Ti wedged between them and averted the imminent collision. “You guys gotta see these pics.” She scrolled through the takes on her camera. “Aren’t they classic?” She elbowed Cassidy. “Reminds me of that pillow war between cabin two and three in eighth grade. Remember? Well, minus the feathers.” She laughed, and remarkably, so did Cassidy.

  “I whipped you then, too,” Cass said, shoulders relaxing.

  “Wha?” Ti shoved her with the lens. “You wish, girl.”

  Ethan mouthed “Thank you” to Ti from behind Cassidy. He’d take the diversion. However temporary it might be. He slipped into the mess hall and kept his hand on the door until it retracted into its frame without a sound.

  Inside the empty hall, his stomach growled on cue. He kicked himself for not remembering to pick up groceries when he’d checked on Nonna last night. He’d have to scrounge. It wasn’t much different from living with Sanders and Briggs. Empty fridges meant getting creative, and he could certainly use any kind of distraction right about now.

  He swung around the open doorway, hopped up the step leading into the kitchen, and stopped short. Nick’s flowers garnished the center of the table. He almost checked for a card but traipsed toward the fridge instead. Wasn’t his business.

  Yet even across the room, the fragrance still gagged him. He stood in front of the refrigerator’s cool draft, waiting for it to knock his body temperature down at least a notch.

  Pointless. He swiped a can of Coke from inside the door and dragged it across his forehead.

  The cat scampered in and stopped at the sight of him, back arched.

  “Perfect timing, bro.” What was one more thing to set him off today?

  The fur ball rubbed his cheek against the corner of the wall. He had a thing for marking his territory, didn’t he? Maybe he wasn’t the only one. Jax meandered closer, curious eyes scoping out the counter. Ethan raised his empty hands. Glaring at him, the cat rolled backward and proceeded to lick his rear.

  Ethan laughed. “The feeling’s mutual, buddy. I assure you.”

  He loaded his arms with the ingredients for a sandwich and skimmed the countertop for a place to set them down. No paper towels? He dumped the food onto the gritty surface. A little dirt never hurt anyone. Assuming it was dirt and not something worse. He waved it off. Ignorance was bliss.

  He hooked a finger around a drawer handle and tugged it open. Empty. Same as the next two. No silverware either? He glanced at the unscrewed mayo jar, rolled a piece of bread into a cylinder, and dipped it in. Creative.

  While leaning back on one elbow, he stopped mid-bite and pulled a feather out of the sandwich. The scene from earlier replayed in his mind. The carefree look on Cassidy’s face. Her genuine laugher. The glimpse of vulnerability she’d shared . . . until Jerkwad showed up.

  She’d been here less than a week, and Nick already found a way to sink his claws into her. Looking back, he wasn’t surprised that Nick had duped Jenni. But Cassidy? She was too smart to fall for his charm. He’d warn her if she’d actually trust him. The thought ended in a snort. That obviously wasn’t happening.

  He tore off a bite of his sandwich and glowered at the flowers again. If pastrami didn’t mask their scent, nothing would. He needed to get out of this kitchen and back to the canteen, where he could swing a hammer. He returned the food to the fridge and strode to the door with his sandwich. Maybe outside, he could stomach it.

  With the girls still out front, he backed up, left through the opposite exit, and plodded to the garage. He wasn’t a coward. Okay, maybe he was. But Cassidy didn’t exactly exude self-control right now, and he was on the fringes of losing his own. He kicked through a pile of pine needles. Besides, he was just the handyman.

  Ti adjusted her giant sunhat. “What’s up with the suit?”

  Cass rolled her eyes. “He has a name.”

  “I bet he does. Let me guess. Chump Somebody.”

  “What’s with the attitude?” Cass toyed with a strip of paint peeling off the deck’s railing. “He’s just a guy I met at the florist’s yesterday.”

  Ti angled her head. “So, then he brings you a bouquet the next day?”

  She didn’t expect her to get it. “He appreciates flowers, too. It’s not a big deal.”

  “It’s kind of creepy. That’s what it is. Unlike what Ethan did for you today, which was thoughtful.”

  “You mean tampering with evidence and creating a huge mess that’s going to pull him away from the real work I need him to be doing?” She climbed the steps. “Real thoughtful.”

  “Okay, first of all, I took pictures when I first found it. Evidence saved.” Ti matched Cass’s strides. “And second of all, he was trying to lighten your stress level. Help you laugh.”

  Cass turned. “I don’t need to laugh, Ti. I need to get a camp up to code ASAP.”

  “You don’t know what you need.” She huffed back down the stairs.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Into town.” Ti spun in the gravel and walked backward toward her smart car. “Off to meet my prince in a flower shop.”

  Why did everything with her have to be so dramatic?

  From around the corner of the building, Ethan trekked toward the canteen with some tools over his shoulder. Back to the work Cass had assigned him.

  Her earlier remarks stung with regret. Images of the pillow fight and tree climbing replayed over the ones in front of her. He’d stirred up memories today. Awakened things she’d forgotten how to feel.

  The mixed emotions of it all slammed into her doubts about being here. She shoved them down and hustled toward the other set of cabins on the far side of the grounds. If they were damaged, too, she just might lose it. Now that she had to pay off those taxes, she barely had the money to cover basic maintenance repairs. Forget major renovations. She couldn’t handle anything else going wrong.

  At the door, she drew in a breath, turned the key, and pushed it open. An undisturbed view bounced back to her. Thank God. It wasn’t only an issue of money or time. This cabin used to feel like home for her. A place where she�
��d found escape.

  She drifted across the wooden floor, dragging her hand along the bunks until she came to one in the middle. Please let the same acceptance she’d found here as a kid meet her now. She slipped out of her sandals and curled her legs onto the flimsy mattress.

  Thoughts churned against the stillness. Maybe Ti was right. Ethan—a stranger without any connection to the place—seemed better suited to inherit the camp. It was more than his skills. It was like this vivacious love of life anchored him no matter where he landed. And the way he’d talked about running the camp from a child’s perspective . . . It’d be effortless for him. The way Grandpa would’ve wanted it.

  Ethan had no idea she planned to sell. Would he think less of her if he did? Would Grandpa? After today, part of her wanted to keep it, but how could she abandon Mom when she was counting on her? Dad had done a sufficient job of that already. She couldn’t turn on her, too.

  Staring at the bottom of the top bunk, she brushed her fingers across names carved into the wood. Someone had to keep the camp’s legacy going. It just couldn’t be her.

  She reached beneath the bed, pulled out the guitar she’d stashed there the night she first arrived, and drew it into her lap. And as softly as she could, she strummed until the music hedged back the tears she couldn’t afford to shed.

  chapter eight

  Empty

  Ethan held a beam to the canteen wall and steadied a level against it. Windflower? Who called a girl a windflower? He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and refocused on the level.

  Sweating for the last two hours hadn’t drained his irritation. He shouldn’t be letting Nick get to him. He’d written the guy off almost nine years ago. The loser could do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted. It wasn’t Ethan’s concern anymore.

  He traded the level for his nail gun. Two pops shuddered throughout the shack and pounded against his already-throbbing temples. He squatted and shot another two rounds in the base. Cassidy never asked for his input. If she wanted to walk into the lion’s den, fine. Her call. He was here for Nonna. Nothing else.

  Cassidy’s Passat slowed around the curve and pulled into her parking spot. Ethan used the front of his T-shirt to dry his face. She’d left not long after Nick had. Where’d she been for two hours? The possibility soured in his stomach. He shouldn’t care. But as soon as those hazel eyes found his, logic fell to the ground alongside the discarded nails.