Write Me Home

by Crystal Walton

  Embers

  His fight with Jenni still smoldered in Ethan’s stomach as he coasted into Nonna’s driveway. He’d lost track of how long he’d been driving. Hours, maybe. Not that it’d made any difference. His anger might’ve faded, but all it left was emptiness.

  He gave the door a quick rap before letting himself in. Lady’s yapping rivaled an entire alarm system. Man, some days he’d love to stuff that dog inside a fire hydrant.

  “If you didn’t bring my espresso maker with you, you can stay outside,” Nonna called.

  Through anything, he could always count on her to make him smile. He shooed Lady back from the door and toed his boots off in the entryway. “I think your espresso days are over, Nonna.”

  She waved a wooden spoon at him as soon as he rounded the kitchen corner. “We’ll see whose days are about to be over if you don’t bring that machine back.”

  Laughing, he crossed the linoleum to kiss her. “I’m twice your size, and you still kinda scare me.”

  She patted his cheeks. “That’s because you’re a smart boy.” Her gaze paraded down his damp clothes. “Get caught in the rain?”

  “Something like that.” He opened the fridge, stared blankly inside, and shut it. What was he even looking for? Comfort food? After going all day on just one sandwich, he was past the point of being hungry, anyway. His stomach was numb. Same as the rest of him. He turned and practically tripped over Lady.

  “Leaky roofs at the camp?” Nonna asked.

  “Among other things.” He plopped onto the nearest chair and caught her knowing glance. “What?”

  “You tell me.”

  He blew out a breath. “Nothing to tell.”

  “Mm hmm.” She turned on the burner under a teapot and withdrew a mug and a jar of honey from the cabinet. “You need a cup of hot lemon water before you catch a cold.”

  Wasn’t he supposed to be the one taking care of her? He rose from the chair, but she held a hand up behind her. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Shaking his head, he sat down again and rubbed his feet over Lady’s back. Maybe he should forget the camp and talk Nonna into letting him stay here instead. He picked at a loose thread on the embroidered placemat in front of him. “Ever wonder if what you’re doing is pointless?”

  “All assignments feel like that at some point along the way.” She squeezed the lemon and stirred a spoonful of honey into the mug, releasing hints of citrus and intuition into the air.

  “Assignment?”

  She tossed the lemon into the trashcan, shuffled over, and handed him the mug. “You don’t think you’re at that camp for no reason, do you?”

  He blinked. “I’m sorry, are you trying to say I’m meant to be there?”

  She tapped his face again. “Like I said. Smart boy.”

  She couldn’t be serious. “If you mean some sort of retribution, then you might be right.”

  Easing onto the seat across from him, she laughed. “Quite the contrary, dear. I mean restoration.”

  “Of the grounds?”

  She clinked her spoon against the top of her own mug and set it on a napkin. “And perhaps more.”

  He breathed in the lemon-scented vapors as he took a sip. Her tonic soothed as intended, but her words left him unsettled. “It’s kind of hard to restore something that wants to stay broken.”

  Another telling gaze found his. “You don’t say.”

  This wasn’t about him. “You haven’t met Cassidy. She doesn’t want or need my help. Trust me.”

  “Oh, I doubt that.” She wobbled to her feet.

  Ethan rose, caught her elbow, and helped her around the chair.

  She made her way to a canister near the microwave and came right back with two pieces of homemade biscotti. “Even if that were true, helping isn’t about receiving as much as it’s about giving. You know that.”

  After as many times as she’d drilled that adage into his head growing up, he’d better know it. Wasn’t as easy to live, though. He dunked the biscotti and munched into it.

  “God has a reason for you to be there, Ethan. You hold on to that, if nothing else.”

  He tried not to snort. “Yeah, well, if putting up with Cassidy McAdams is my reward, then God has a real sense of humor.”

  She patted her leg. “The best I’ve ever known.”

  Her warm laughter made it hard not to join her. But even the distraction and comfort of being with her couldn’t put out the embers Jenni had stoked today.

  What about his assignment to protect Izzy? How could God entrust him with anything else after that failure?

  The weight pressed on his shoulders and pulled his head down. “I miss Izzy, Nonna.” So much that the pain of losing her burned through the dull ache of remorse until he had nothing left to numb it with.

  “Me too, sweetheart.” She circled the table and held him tight. “Me too.”

  His sister wasn’t the only one he’d lost that night. Ten years of saving other people’s lives, and he still hadn’t saved his own.

  Nonna stroked his back. Held in the closest thing he knew to a mother’s embrace, the little boy inside him almost came undone.

  She lifted her cheek from his head and patted the weathered skin under her eyes. “Now then, about that espresso maker.”

  He cracked a grin. “Nonna.”

  “Okay, okay. But promise me you’ll at least bring me a gelato next time.”

  He squeezed her hand on his way up. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Lady trotted behind them down the hall. Ethan gave her ears a good scratch and opened the door to nightfall. He must’ve been out longer than he’d thought. He snapped on the porch light. “Ti amo, Nonna.”

  “Ti amo.” She kissed his cheeks. “Be careful driving home.”

  Home. He’d be lucky if he still had one after running off all day without a word. He started his Jeep and tightened his fingers around the gearshift. Only one way to find out.

  A mile down the road, he cranked the heat. The earlier rain had brought in a cold front behind it. His headlights tunneled through the steam rising off the pavement. The storm had passed, but he had a feeling a certain redheaded one was waiting to strike next.

  At the camp, he crept into his usual parking spot, closed his door as quietly as possible, and peered up at the dark windows in the main building. Maybe he’d luck out and get to sneak inside. His clothes might’ve dried a while ago, but a hot shower was calling him.

  Wind ripped down the mountain with a blustery exclamation point and shook water from the trees onto his head. Rubbing his arms, he turned and caught a glimpse of a light flickering through the mess hall’s windows. Cassidy was probably using the fireplace. On a night this chilly, he didn’t blame her. It’d almost be as good as a hot shower if it didn’t come along with having to face her reprimand.

  He glanced back at the deck, his body pulling him in one direction, his thoughts in another. He let out a gruff exhale. “Fine.” No use putting it off. He opened the side door and peeked into the quiet room.

  The cat flinched in the middle of the floor. Ears flattened, he released a low growl as Ethan started toward him.

  “Shh. Don’t tell me you’re gonna start acting like a watchdog now.”

  Jax darted under a chair and stared him down with glow-in-the-dark eyes. Better than getting a death stare from the other pair of piercing green eyes in this place. Was it crazy that he wished they were hers instead?

  At the end of the room, an almost-burned-out fire waved in front of a loveseat she must’ve dragged in from another room. The flames cast a glow over Cassidy, curled up with a plush blanket drooping off her shoulder and a book pitched over her stomach. Redeeming Love. Grinning, he shook his head. Her tough girl routine was crumbling by the second.

  The cat jumped up to the couch arm. Ethan steeled himself for an incoming hiss. Instead, Jax purred and looked up at him as though waiting for Ethan to pet him. Seriously? He extended an arm and
rubbed Jax’s head with the very tip of his pointer finger. Jax kneaded his paws back and forth against the couch arm. “There ya go. Nice kitty,” he whispered. “No waking Cassidy.”

  A stinging sensation climbed up his chest and throat. He spun, buried his face in his elbow, and held in a sneeze as best he could. Turning, he glared at the cat. “Yeah. That’s from you, big guy.”

  At least he hadn’t woken Cass. Talk about a sound sleeper. What else did she keep hidden under that shell of hers? Would she ever let him get close enough to find out?

  He covered her shoulder with the blanket and lifted the book. A letter slipped out to the floor. His gaze rebounded from it to Cassidy, but she still didn’t move. The city’s logo stood out as he picked it up. This must’ve been what that worker had dropped off today. He glanced at Cass again. Would she want him to know?

  Curiosity getting the better of him, he opened the flap and scanned the three-part letter. An inspection? No way they’d pass yet. They needed more time. This better not be Mom’s way of taking an interest, as Deputy Harris had called it.

  The veins on top of his hands throbbed. He shoved the notice back in the book and set it on the couch to stop himself from hurling it into the fire. No wonder Cassidy was on edge. The girl couldn’t catch a break. He cringed at how he’d reacted earlier. Like she didn’t have enough to deal with already without his storming off like an immature teenager this afternoon. He shouldn’t take things so personally.

  Yeah, right. When had he ever not made things personal? All or nothing. React first, think later. Maybe that was the real reason he’d driven Jenni to choose someone else.

  Burying his frustration, he knelt beside Cass and brushed a loose curl as soft as the blanket off her cheek. Relaxed and peaceful. No tension lines. What he’d give to see her this at ease all the time.

  His conversation with Nonna burrowed into him and drove him back on his heels. Was this what she’d meant about an assignment? Getting Cassidy to let her guard down?

  He rose, backed away. Nonna didn’t know what that’d mean. He couldn’t open Cass’s heart while keeping his closed.

  Thoughts churned as he stoked the kindling and added three logs to the fire. A shadow flickered outside the window. He jerked around toward a rustling noise echoing from the deck.

  His gaze flew to Cassidy, pulse jacking. He might not be able to protect her heart, but he’d protect her home. Shoulders squared, he swiped the fire poker and slinked out front.

  Sandy’s bark jolted Cass up from the loveseat. She gripped the top edge, pulled herself up, and waited for the empty hall to come into focus. Ti was still out when she’d fallen asleep. She’d probably just gotten in. Yawning, Cass folded the blanket over the end of the couch and rubbed her arms. The fire crackled and invited her closer to its warmth.

  Something zipped past the window. She whirled around. “Ti?”

  No answer.

  She clutched her elbows and froze, all senses heightened. The fire popped again. Heat spread up her body. Outside, something clawed against the shingled siding. Backing into the stone fireplace, she groped around for the fire poker, grabbed the shovel instead, and brought it to her chest. “Ti?” she whispered this time.

  The clawing intensified, closing in all around her. Heart pounding, she dropped the shovel and sprinted to the kitchen, where she fumbled around for the flashlight hanging above the counter. She pushed the button. Once. Twice. “Come on.” She hit it against her palm.

  A crash rang from the deck. She opened drawer after drawer. With all her lists, how did she forget to pick up batteries? And where was Ethan?

  She shoved the last drawer in, spun away from the counter, and calmed herself. It didn’t matter that Ethan was gone. If someone were on her property, she’d take care of it. It was time people knew this wasn’t an abandoned camp to vandalize for kicks.

  She marched down the hall, still gripping the flashlight. At least it’d work as a weapon if she needed it. Sandy’s barks grew louder. She crept across the last few feet leading to the door and flipped on the outside light, but the deck stayed dark. Drawing in a breath, she nudged the screen open and almost stepped onto a pile of broken glass in front of it.

  Sandy chased two animals into the woods along the edge of the field. Footsteps closed in from behind her. Her pulse skipped. She raised the flashlight and whirled around.

  Someone grabbed her arms. “Whoa. It’s okay.”

  She flailed against him, trying to break free.

  His hold tightened. “Cassidy, calm down. It’s just me. Sandy and I ran off the raccoons. No one’s gonna hurt you.”

  Ethan’s reassuring voice rushed over her, but panic kept surging. “What are you doing out here? You left.” She winced at how much hurt came through those two words.

  “I’m sorry.” He let go. “When I got back, I heard a noise on the roof and climbed the fire escape to check it out. Looks like someone dumped garbage up there. The raccoons were having a field day.”

  “Garbage?”

  He nodded. “They’ll be back if we don’t clear it, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. I’ll get up there in the morning.”

  Garbage on the roof to draw raccoons. That seemed a little farfetched. Did the kids around here think this was some kind of joke? They had no idea what was at stake, what this was costing her. “Who’s doing this, Ethan?”

  “I don’t know.” He rested a hand to her cheek. “But we’re going to stop them.”

  The fear still tearing across her muscles dwindled at his touch. She rested a palm to the front of his shirt, wanting to draw near, wanting him to be right. “What if we can’t?”

  He curved an arm around her back and pulled her close. “I won’t let that happen.”

  Enclosed in a promise she wished more than anything she could trust, she closed her eyes and pressed tighter. His whiskers rubbed against her hair as she nestled her face beneath his neck. The scent of the mountain clung to him. Strength, hard work, passion. It all wrapped around her in layers of yearning she thought she’d forgotten how to feel—desires she knew better than to give a hold.

  What was she doing?

  She pushed away. “It’s, um . . . It’s going to be an early morning.” She backed up toward the door, tucking her hair behind her ears. “We should both get to bed.”

  He blinked but didn’t move. His confused expression launched her inside and down the hall. In the safety of her bedroom, she hunched against the door and craned her neck to the ceiling. Get a grip, Cass. She tapped her head behind her. Business. Just. Business. If someone really was attacking the camp, how could she be thinking of anything else?

  chapter ten

  Brooding

  What little sleep Cassidy had gotten last night made facing today even more exhausting. How could she expect Ethan to respect her as his boss after practically melting in his arms last night?

  She banged her chisel against a stubborn strip of paint on the deck’s railing slat. Working alongside him all morning in silence had only exacerbated the problem. At least, for her. He was probably avoiding it because he sensed she’d felt something.

  She grabbed the strip of paint and yanked it off with her hands. She shouldn’t have let him see her that vulnerable. The frustration of it all grumbled with her empty stomach.

  From the driveway, Sandy alternated between jumping and crouching as he followed Ethan’s movement back and forth across the deck. He might’ve been a good watchdog last night, but he was gonna get a muzzle today if he didn’t stop barking louder than the sander.

  She tossed her fleece pullover into the corner and exhaled as a breeze ran over her damp skin. It was crazy how much the temperature swung in a matter of hours. By afternoon, Ti’s bath of choice was always more than a little tempting. Especially today. Maybe the freezing creek water would shock some sense into her. Lord knew she needed to get a grip. They had an inspection to prep for.

  Ethan turned off the sander and rearranged the Adirondack
chairs before starting on the next section. Sweat beaded on his temples and soaked through his navy blue T-shirt.

  He had to be exhausted. After clearing the garbage off the roof first thing and checking for any damage, he’d been slaving away on the deck nonstop.

  Sandy darted a glance toward the tree line. Ears and tail raised, he sniffed the air and took off, probably to chase some innocent squirrel.

  Ti blew through the screen door, pinching a pair of rubber gloves off. “If I never see the inside of an oven again, I won’t mind.”

  Cass lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “Might as well make it a first and last experience all at once.”

  “Like you can talk.” She shook the wet gloves over Cass’s head while sauntering across the deck. “Not sure all that scrubbing did much good. You should just buy a new one.”

  If only it were that easy. Cass twisted her hair off her neck. “Unfortunately, the oven has to stay. A new range is all I can afford right now.”

  “Well, maybe we can . . . Eww. What’s that smell?”

  Ethan walked over and whiffed. “Skunk.” He took one look at Ti’s scrunched nose and laughed. “Welcome to life in the mountains.”

  She tossed her head back. “Don’t remind me.” She leaned her elbows beside an empty planter on the rail. “Please tell me they at least have some good coffee joints in the mountains.”

  Cass wouldn’t mind a latte herself right now. Especially if it came with a chocolate muffin. Or twenty.

  “We’ve got a few.” He strolled back over to the sander. “Even ones with real life baristas.”

  Ti grabbed a paint stick off the rail and flicked it at him. “Hey, a town without a Starbucks is a little shady. I’m just sayin’.”

  “Well, small town America might just introduce you to this thing called mom-and-pop shops.” Grinning, he wiped his face across his sleeve. “You should check out my friend’s café down off Jamison Street. Amy’s sort of . . . eccentric. I think you’ll like her.”

  Cass wedged the chisel under another piece of splintered wood. Amy. Jenni. How many girlfriends did he have around this place?