When Dad and I ease apart, I’m left with an old, familiar warmth that I hadn’t realized I missed so much. Dad. Family. Home.

He smiles, and I return the gesture. “So you met Nixon, I see.”

Suddenly, I’m keenly aware of a pair of midnight eyes burning a hole right through me. I flash a casual smile in his direction. “Yes, we met.”

“I’m sure you two will get to know each other much better over the coming days.”

“And why is that?”

“You’ll be sharing the cottage.”

My heart flutters wildly. “Pardon?”

“We’re having some work done around here, and I had to put Nixon in the cottage.”

I purposely refuse to look at Nixon. “It’s no problem for me to stay in the main house then.”

“Well, actually it is because we’re having some work done on the east wing, too.”

“Then I’ll stay in your office. It’s not a problem.”

“It is for me. I won’t have my own daughter sleeping on a couch like some stranger. The cottage is big enough for both of you to have space and privacy. Nixon is staying in the master, so you’ll have your mother’s whole studio bedroom to yourself.”

I nod and smile, but say nothing. I’m thinking to myself that I’ll deal with sleeping arrangements later when a smooth voice cuts into my thoughts.

“I’ll take your bags around to the cottage, so you two can catch up.” I spare a quick glance at Nixon, who seems to be enjoying this immensely.

I can’t argue at the moment, so I simply nod my thanks. I hear him whistling as he walks away.

“Who’s home?” I ask my father as we head indoors.

“Just me. Hannah is catering a wedding in Houston, Harper is looking at real estate in Needville, and Hope’s out taking pictures of the cattle.”

“I thought Harper was looking for something closer to home?”

Dad shrugs. “She was, but she couldn’t find anything, so she’s going wider.”

“She needs to buy Tom Delaney’s store and convert it into a bar.”

“I’ve told her that, but you know how stubborn she is.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty bullheaded.”

“Just like her older sister.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not bullheaded.”

“No? Tell me again why you haven’t been back in ten years.” His tone is light, but I still feel a stab of guilt.

“It was never that simple, Dad.”

“I always knew there were things you didn’t tell me. I didn’t press you because I respected your privacy. I just hope you’ve grieved him all you needed to, and we can all be a family again.”

“We were never not a family. And it wasn’t—” I stop myself. I don’t want to get into this with my father. I never wanted him to know all the details. Jason was like a son to him. The son he never had among his four daughters. Even now, it would kill him to know everything that happened. I muster a smile and settle on, “It was a long time ago.”

“I wish he’d been a better man. Someone like Nixon.”

“I seem to have a nose for the bad ones, don’t I?”

“You were young. You went running from Jason into the arms of the first man you met. Don’t let that sour you on love. You’ll find the right one if you don’t give up.”

“I’m not giving up. I’m just focusing on me for a while. I’m twenty-nine, and I’ve never been alone long enough to figure out who I am or what I want. In fact, if you don’t mind, I’d like to stay for a while. Get back to my roots, sort of start over. Do things right. Make better choices.”

“What about the store?”

“It’s in good hands. Don’t worry. Unless you don’t want me to stay.”

“Nothing would make me happier. This is your home, sweetheart. Take all the time you need.” The smile Dad gives me falters the tiniest bit. In fact, it’s such a slight and rapid shift I have to wonder if I just imagined it.

“Mom would like us all being together again, wouldn’t she?” The pain that faded but never died rattles around my heart. “All of us right here at home, her favorite place in the world.”

My father’s eyes get misty. “She’s the only missing ingredient.”

We both fall silent, momentarily lost in our shared grief. It’s me who finally breaks that silence. “Well, I guess I’d better go get settled in. I’m sure all hell will break loose when the Heathers get back.”

Because my sisters and I all have names starting with H and because we were all so fiercely protective of one another during high school, we were dubbed the Heathers. We would fight amongst ourselves, as sisters tend to do, but we were pure hell to anyone who bothered one of us. Just ask Toby Watkins, the boy who tried to feel up Hannah when she was in the seventh grade. After we Brandt girls “Heathered” him, he couldn’t show his stained-blue face at school for a week. Through thick and thin, we stuck together.

Right up until I left the fold with wounds so deep no familial bond could heal them. Only time and space could.

I’m still lost in thought, in yesteryear, when I start across the side yard toward the cottage. It isn’t until I reach for the knob on the door that I remember who I might find behind it. Nixon.

Cautiously, I twist and step slowly inside. The interior is dark from drawn blinds, and it smells of the soap Nixon uses. “Hello?”

I pause for a reply and get none. There’s not so much as a creak of floorboards in response. I’m relieved. I can’t deal with Nixon right now. Present or not, though, Nixon manages to turn my emotions inside out when I see what he left on the small table in the foyer.

There’s a small, half-empty glass beside a bottle of tequila, and a note propped in front of them. “Couldn’t go another minute without a taste.”

I stare at the note and then at the glass for a long time before I put my lips to the rim and toss it back. I’m sure it’s my mind playing tricks on me, but I could swear I taste Nixon on my tongue after the tequila has worn off.