"But why had he always felt so strongly the magnetic pull of home, why had he thought so much about it and remembered it with such blazing accuracy, if it did not matter, and if this little town, and the immortal hills around it, was not the only home he had on earth? He did not know. All that he knew was that the years flow by like water, and that one day men come home again."
—Thomas Wolfe, You Can’t Go Home Again
His feet knew the road ahead like a long-lost memory, but this time, Ethan Bishop had to pause halfway to rest. The nagging ache throbbed behind his knee like a deeply ingrained splinter, slowly trying to drive him mad, but he packaged the pain into a box and shoved it down deep, along with the hot flare of shame.
He was the lucky one.
The mantra had been repeated regularly for the last sixty-two days yet still felt like words recited in a play to someone he was pretending to be. No matter. Eventually, he may believe them.
He shifted his weight and stared at the sprawling blue-and-white farmhouse hidden behind the storybook white fence and framed by the majestic Shawangunk Mountains. His heart stopped, stuttered, then began beating again. Gardiner may be a small town in upstate New York, but its beauty and quirky charm made it a favorite for visitors. He’d forgotten how long he’d been away from home. A rush of memories washed over him like a tide of warm water, reminding him of that laughing, free-spirited young kid tearing his way around the farm with big dreams that his small upstate town could never hold. After years of hard work and chasing those elusive ambitions, he thought he’d finally succeeded.
He’d been so wrong.
Gritting his teeth, he resumed walking, taking in the extensive updates with approval. His sisters had invested a large chunk of money to not only renovate the actual house but also freshen up the visual curb appeal of the bed-and-breakfast. The new ROBIN’S NEST B & B sign welcomed visitors from the gate in blinding white and robin’s-egg blue, matching the shutters and bold-blue door. As he approached the wraparound porch, he noticed the creative touches Ophelia must have spearheaded—the clay pots of colored mums, the tea cart filled with pitchers of sweet tea and sugar cookies, the wind chimes tinkling in the soft summer breeze. The rockers and footstools were charmingly mismatched in various wicker, and large coffee-table books with glossy pictures were casually thrown about.
Yes, they’d finally claimed their heritage just as he’d run from it. Mom would have been proud.
The familiar bark rose to his ears, and he turned in astonishment, dropping his bag. The black Lab tore across the lawn—ears pinned back, mouth turned up in a joyous doggy grin—and barreled into his arms.
“Wheezy!” The dog stuck a wet nose in his crotch, and a laugh exploded in the air. It took him a while to realize it had come from him, the sound rusty from disuse. Ethan ran his fingers over now whitish fur that wriggled in delight, the dog’s belly rounded with the extra weight of middle age. “I missed you, boy. God, how old are you now, buddy? Fourteen? Fifteen?”
“Sixteen. And in better shape than all of us. Welcome home, Ethan.”
He craned his neck around. Ophelia stood on the porch, her lips curved in a soft smile. She was dressed in an ankle-length floral skirt, sandals, and a yellow, gauzy tank top, showing off her willowy form. Her strawberry-blonde hair was pulled back from her face in a ponytail. She’d always reminded him of a fairy, with her pointed chin, too-large eyes, and petite build. Of course, his sister had an inner strength and thirst for life like no other he’d ever known, hidden beneath a Tinker Bell surface. Once, he’d imagined she’d be bigger than the singer Adele, with her giant voice that mesmerized anyone in her vicinity, but it seemed she’d decided to settle for running the family bed-and-breakfast.
“Tink. You look good.”
She groaned, taking the few steps down to close the distance. “Don’t call me that! It was torturous enough when we were kids—I refuse to accept it as an adult.”
He grabbed her, enjoying her laugh as he spun her around and Wheezy barked. “I can still make you fly,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “And older brothers have a responsibility to annoy their younger siblings.”
“Fine. Have I told you I put your room next to Mr. and Mrs. Alders? They’re in their seventies and celebrating their anniversary.” Her blue eyes danced. “Very loudly. Every night.”
He shuddered. “You fight dirty, Tink. No way am I staying in a house full of strangers. I told you I’m setting up in the bungalow.”
“I was hoping I’d change your mind,” she said lightly. “The bungalow doesn’t have a full working kitchen. The place is run-down and needs a bunch of updates. No one’s been in there for years.”
“Doesn’t bother me as long as there’s a bed or a couch.”
“It’s isolated. Plus, it’s a long walk to the main house.”
He narrowed his gaze, getting closer to the truth. She shifted her weight and fussed with her skirt. “You worried about something else?”
At least she didn’t lie to him. “I’m worried about leaving you alone.”
The words fell between them and lay there like broken glass. His gut clenched with familiar shame, but he ignored it, making sure to keep his voice firm. “I came back so I could be alone for a bit. Need to get my shit together. Can’t think of a better job than fixing up the bungalow and spending some time helping you out.”
She seemed to mull over his words to figure out if he was lying. Then, she nodded. “Okay. Does it hurt?”
“Not much. Just need to continue some PT.”
“Counseling?”
The corner of his lip lifted. Ever since the incident, not many people asked direct questions that may embarrass them or him. His muscles relaxed a bit, glad his sister wouldn’t treat him any differently. “Did my mandated time. If I feel like I need more, I’ll find someone.”
“Good enough for me. But be careful about telling Harper you have free time. She’ll have you working with the horses nonstop so she can rescue more.”
“Still saving the world one animal at a time?”
“She’s the Angelina Jolie of rescues and pissing off more people than I can count.”
“Where is she?”
“At the auction. She’ll be home for dinner. In the meantime, why don’t you get settled in, and I can show you around. We’ve done a lot of improvements.” She eyed the duffel bag at his feet. “Is that all you have?”
“I learned to travel light. Do we have to eat with your guests?”
She grinned. “Not tonight. But we have quite a crew for the week. I think you’re going to like them.”
“I’m not up for much social interaction, Tink. Especially with strangers. Better to keep my distance.”
Her face softened. “Understood. But now’s a good time to begin easing your way back in. You’ve always charmed everyone in your path.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “And, as Mom used to say, ‘a happy guest is a returning guest.’ Part of your job here is to make the guests happy. Better start getting used to it.”
He groaned, but she only shot him a wink and disappeared back into the house. Yeah, his sister never candy-coated anything.
Ethan stood in the hot sun, thinking about the life he’d run far away from for something bigger and better. He’d finally come full circle—back in the place he started, trying to heal all the broken pieces life had thrown at him. So fucking ironic.
As if Wheezy knew exactly what he was thinking, the dog regarded him with serious, soulful eyes.
Then he lifted his leg and peed on Ethan’s bag.
Welcome home.