The Way Back to Erin

by Cerella Sechrist

  Involuntarily, he thought of Erin. Her loss had been different than his own but no less painful. And he’d never once heard her speak with regret about her time with Gavin. She wasn’t bitter. Sad, of course. And reluctant to move on, perhaps. But he had a feeling, if he asked her if she’d trade her time with Gavin, knowing she’d lose him, that the answer would be a resounding no. And he realized that he wouldn’t want her to. She may have chosen Gavin over him, but maybe that was because God knew that Gavin only had a limited time on earth. So he had deserved the best of everything while he was here.

  But Erin...she had become stuck, just as Burke had. She was mired in her mourning, living in a past that no longer existed. Maybe it was time for them both to find their way out of the dark and look to the days ahead. It wasn’t a betrayal of those they’d lost. If anything, it was a way to honor their loved ones whose lives had been cut short.

  Now was the time for him to embrace the loved ones he still had and stop grieving those he had lost. And maybe, just maybe, he could convince Erin it was time for her to stop grieving, too.

  * * *

  DESPITE ERIN’S BEST EFFORTS, the open house had been a failure. The musicians had left early, grumbling as they packed up their equipment about the event being “a waste of time.” The bakery staff was apologetic, even though none of it had been their fault. Even after setting up a fan in the wake of the band’s departure, the cool air had failed to save the wedding cakes from melting into a deflated lump of sugar. They salvaged what they could and distributed it to be eaten, but Erin refused. She didn’t think her stomach could handle eating anything—it was too twisted into knots. The only group that seemed to benefit from the open house had been the bridal boutique. They’d booked multiple consultations and handed out all their fliers.

  Connor and Harper sent most of their staff home while they remained to assist with the cleanup. Erin felt terrible about having dragged them through this event with her. They’d been generous enough to provide the food, and Connor was paying his employees out of his own pocket for helping out. And it had been a disaster. Not to mention the fact that she was exhausted.

  But more than that, she was soul sick. While losing the inn had been a harsh possibility two weeks ago, now it felt even more like a stark reality. Aunt Lenora was going to get rid of this place, her home, her sanctuary. This thought, coupled with the utter failure of the open house, nearly caused her to burst into tears.

  She held it together for as long as she could, thanking people for coming as they left, expressing her gratitude to everyone who had stuck it out. By the time Harper and Connor had finished up in the kitchen and packed away all their serving platters and sent their crew home, the day had slid into evening. She was physically drained, depressed and ready to lock the door against any more people. For the first time, she was relieved the inn had no guests. She wanted to pretend this day had never happened. That way none of this would be real.

  Connor must have read her expression because he pulled her into his arms for a warm hug. They were both sticky with sweat, but she didn’t mind. She needed the support.

  “We can try again,” he offered. “When the weather turns cooler.”

  She pulled back and forced herself to smile. “Yeah, maybe.” She didn’t want to sound pessimistic, but she didn’t have that much time. And Connor surely knew that. She appreciated that he wanted to help, but Allan wouldn’t wait until summer’s end for an answer. And Aunt Lenora likely wouldn’t want to delay her decision that long either. She had already pushed him off for the past two weeks to give Erin her chance at the open house. She’d had her shot to bring things right. And she’d failed.

  “I appreciate all your h-help.” Her voice trembled with the tears so near the surface. Connor looked at her with sympathy.

  “I know what it’s like to lose a place you love, that you gave your heart to and poured your soul into.”

  She nodded. Connor had lost his first restaurant and nearly the second one that had been his father’s. And he’d still managed to rise from the ashes. Now, Callahan’s was not only a wildly successful restaurant in Findlay Roads, but there was talk of opening a second location in D.C. Connor had thrived, despite the adversity he’d faced.

  But Erin didn’t know if she could do the same. The inn had never been hers. And it wasn’t as if she wanted to start over with some other B&B. She simply didn’t want to lose this place.

  Harper stepped up and nudged her husband aside so she could give Erin a hug of her own. “Call me if you want any help to finish the cleanup tomorrow.”

  “That’s okay. You’ve helped out a ton already,” Erin said. In fact, she’d probably prefer to be alone tomorrow, licking her wounds.

  “I don’t mind,” Harper insisted.

  Erin didn’t want to argue. She just wanted to be alone.

  “I’ll call if I need you.”

  She exchanged goodbyes with her friends and then saw them out the door. Next, she made sure Kitt was in bed. Aunt Lenora had taken charge of him as the night wore on, seeing to it that he ate dinner and took a bath before bedtime.

  Erin peeked in his bedroom, not wanting to disturb him, and saw Aunt Lenora dozing in the rocker by his bed while Kitt breathed deeply beneath the covers. Scout was sprawled out along the foot of the bed, one paw resting protectively on Kitt’s leg. She relaxed slightly. She still had Kitt. No matter what life might take away, if she had her son, there was still some promise to the future.

  The question was...what did the future look like? Aunt Lenora had made it clear that she intended to see that Erin and Kitt were provided for. Erin found this unnecessary. Erin was trying to save most of Gavin’s life insurance money for Kitt’s college fund, but enough could be spared to buy a small house for the two of them. Property values in Findlay Roads had increased exponentially in recent years, but she was sure she could find something reasonable.

  With a sigh, she eased the door closed. She considered dragging herself to her room and simply falling into bed, but she wanted to make sure the inn was closed up tight for the night. She hadn’t seen Burke since they’d wrapped up most of the cleanup. She assumed he’d headed to bed, given the late hour. Or maybe he’d even gone out. There was no reason he should just hang around the inn, especially since the old building made him uncomfortable.

  She moved slowly down the staircase, savoring the quiet, except for the creaks and groans of the settling house. She checked the front entry and the side one, tidying up a bit as she moved from room to room. When she reached the back door, she found it unlocked and frowned.

  A single light illuminated the veranda. She eased open the door and stuck her head outside. The temperature had dropped only a few scant degrees since the sun had gone down, and humidity was still thick in the air. She felt smothered by it. But then the heat was forgotten as she caught sight of Burke sitting on one of the porch chairs and looking out into the night.

  His profile arrested her attention, with the sharp slope of his clean-shaven jaw and the way his hair fell over his temple. Her heart fluttered at the sight, but she ignored it, more interested in why he looked so pensive. It was as if he was lost in some distant memory. She hesitated and then gathered the nerve to slip onto the porch and join him.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  BURKE DIDN’T HEAR Erin come outside, so he was startled when she first took the seat beside him. She didn’t say anything at first, and neither did he. He was content with that. There was a lot on his mind, a lot to consider. Ever since his conversation with Neal, his mind had been retracing memories, trying to recall what else he might have forgotten over the years.

  He’d escaped to the back porch about an hour ago, needing the quiet to manage his concentration. And while he couldn’t say he’d been able to pull up any more memories, he’d relived the ones that had surfaced.

  He couldn’t imagine how he had forgotten that summ
er, or why Aunt Lenora hadn’t brought it up. Perhaps she thought it would wound him further, but in truth, he’d found it healing. All those families he had witnessed over the years—all those times he’d been miserable and overcome with jealousy for what they had and he didn’t...but he’d had those things, once. Yes, they’d been taken from him. But he’d had them.

  Love wasn’t less precious when it was lost. Perhaps it was more precious because it had been fleeting. His time with his family, short though it had been, had created the foundation for who he was and wanted to be. It was those memories that should have defined him, not what he had lost. It had been a lesson that was a long time coming, but he finally understood.

  And with that understanding came a clarity he had never known.

  He loved Erin. He had always loved her. And he wanted to believe that she loved him, too. They were both wounded and felt a deep obligation to be faithful to Gavin’s memory. But perhaps they had both lost sight of who Gavin was and what he would have wanted for them. It certainly wouldn’t have been his wish to see them live without love. Would he have begrudged them a lifetime together, when his own time had been cut short?

  Burke didn’t think so. His brother had spent such a large part of his life caring for others—from their childhood when he’d watched out for Burke and tried to walk him through his grief and loss, to providing for and promising himself to Erin and even to protecting his country. That was who Gavin was. And maybe, just maybe, to deny themselves happiness was in itself dishonoring all that Gavin had lived for.

  He turned to Erin then and said the thing that was foremost in his mind.

  “I love you.”

  It was a bold declaration, but he didn’t know how else to say it. He wanted to be bold. He wanted to live life without letting his fear of loss rule him. He had spent too many years building walls, holding himself back from relationships because he was so certain that if he loved something, he would lose it. It was a theory he’d seen proven true over and over—from his parents to his love for Erin to his brother. Every person he’d loved had left him, in some way or another. But that was just life. If he wasn’t willing to live it, then of course, death couldn’t hurt him.

  But he also wouldn’t experience all the things that made death such a threat.

  Erin’s eyes were wide. She looked as if she’d been jerked awake unexpectedly. He took the opportunity to lean in, gather her face in his hands and kiss her soundly on the lips. She remained frozen for several heartbeats while his mouth explored hers, and then she pushed him away, somewhat violently, and scrambled to her feet.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Erin, I’m in love with you. I don’t want to deny it any more. I can’t. I have loved you since I was seventeen years old. Some days, I buried it so deeply that I was convinced I was free of it. I lived for years like that, believing my feelings for you had been the result of teenage hormones. But that was just a lie I told myself to ease the heartache of missing you. That’s why I left Findlay Roads. And that’s why I so rarely came back while you were married to Gavin. Because seeing you brought the truth painfully close to the surface—I was in love with my brother’s wife.” He swallowed. “But Gavin’s not here anymore. I would give anything to bring him back, I swear. But I can’t say it means I don’t love you. Because I do.”

  She was still wide-eyed. “What about Tessa?”

  He shook his head. “I care about her. But I’m not sure I ever loved her. She was safe. Sweet. There were no risks with Tessa. That was the point. I had less to fear where she was concerned. But with you...I’d risk everything if it was for you. Because it’s always been you.”

  She took a step back. “Burke. Don’t. We can’t. I’m married to Gavin.”

  “Gavin’s gone, Erin.” The words still pained him. He suspected that they always would. “But you and me...” He pointed a finger at her and then at himself. “We are still here.”

  She shook her head, but he could tell she was thinking about what he’d said. He stood but didn’t move toward her.

  “Do you love me?”

  The question drew her gaze back to his, her green eyes growing wider. “Wh-what?”

  “Do you love me?” he repeated. “Because if you do...that’s all that matters.”

  “I have Kitt to think about.”

  “I adore Kitt. And I believe he’s pretty fond of me, too. My first choice would always be to have Gavin raise him. But if Gavin can’t do it, then I’d like to step into that gap and be his dad.”

  She stared at him. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying? You run, Burke. It’s what you do. You protect yourself by not getting too attached and by staying away. You feel sorry for us, I get that. But I’m not going to let you talk me into some relationship just because you have a misguided sense of duty.”

  Anger flared at her words. “Duty? Why would you think this is about duty?”

  “Because Gavin was your brother, and you weren’t here when we needed you, and now you think you can make up for that by saying you love me.” Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke. “You’re right, love is a risk. But you’re a bigger risk than most where it’s concerned.”

  He tried to remain patient, but her words struck him in an almost painful way. “You know me better than that. Don’t try to mask your own issues by hiding behind mine.”

  “My issues?”

  He gave a short nod.

  “How dare you turn this around on me!”

  “But it is on you, Erin,” he threw back. “Because no one can force you to let go. You have to do that for yourself.”

  “Let go of what?”

  “Of this!” He gestured toward the inn’s back door. “Of the Moontide, of Gavin, of this little cocoon you’ve created for yourself to avoid getting your heart broken again.”

  Her jaw had dropped, and he felt a twinge of remorse but not enough to stop. He’d held back so much with Erin for so long. For fifteen years. He didn’t think he had it in him to keep silent any longer.

  “Holding on to the Moontide won’t bring Gavin back. And it’s no way to live your life. You have to move forward. You can’t hold on to this place just because of what it represents.”

  Her eyes flared to life. “That’s so easy for you to say when you hate this place. You ran away because you couldn’t handle your grief, and now you’re accusing me of holding on to mine?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t hate this place. I never did. And I didn’t run because I couldn’t handle the grief. I left here when I turned eighteen for you.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “What do you mean, for me?”

  “Because I loved you, and you chose my brother. That’s why. And if I couldn’t have you, I wasn’t going to stay here and watch the two of you in love. Or worse, be tempted by you every day he was gone on a deployment.”

  Her cheeks grew red, but he continued, taking several steps forward and causing her to take two back.

  “I love you. And I want to marry you. But I won’t live in my brother’s shadow or have his ghost in my bed. And by living at the Moontide, that’s exactly what would happen. I don’t hate this place. In some ways, I’m kind of fond of it. But it’s never quite felt like my home.”

  He drew a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and then went down on one knee. “I want to create a new home and new memories. With you. With Kitt. I want to put down roots and leave the past behind.”

  Erin’s hand went to her mouth as she stared down at him.

  “I know how much you loved Gavin—how much you still love him. I love him, too. I would never do anything to dishonor his memory. But I won’t live my life as some sort of punishment for the loved ones I’ve lost. I’ve done that for too long. I want to start living. For myself. For you and for Kitt. And I want you to have that, too.”

  He stopped an
d took a breath. “What do you say?”

  She stepped back, putting distance between them.

  “No,” she breathed, dropping her hand back to her side. “No, I can’t.”

  He was disappointed, but he couldn’t say he was all that surprised. After all, he’d heard those words from Erin before. “Why not?”

  I love you. Choose me.

  That’s what he had asked her, so many years ago along the shores of the Chesapeake. And her response had been the same then as now.

  “I’m sorry...but I can’t.”

  He released a breath of defeat and then stood.

  “Fifteen years ago, you said no because of Gavin.”

  He bowed his head.

  “Fifteen years later, and Gavin’s dead. But you’re still saying no because of him.”

  He didn’t wait to see if she had a response. Instead, he brushed by her and headed back inside.

  * * *

  BURKE HAD A good idea of what was coming when Aunt Lenora said she needed to speak to him the next morning. Kitt and Erin were still in bed, but Burke had been unable to sleep after all that had occurred the night before. He’d gone into the kitchen to make himself some coffee and discovered Aunt Lenora had beat him to it. She poured him a cup and then said, “It’s time you and I had a talk.”

  They settled themselves at the kitchen table, a sealed container of Erin’s homemade croissants between them, though he had no appetite at the moment. Aunt Lenora wasn’t one for preambles. She wasted no time in telling him what was on her mind.

  “I’m selling.”

  Burke leaned back in his seat and eyed her with consideration. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  She studied him with the same concentration he was bestowing on her. “I would not have expected you to ask me that, given your feelings for this place.”

  He frowned. The words shamed him somehow, though he wasn’t quite sure why. “It’s just that you and the Moontide have always gone hand in hand. I guess, given your history, I’m surprised you’d actually go through with selling it.”