I was looking forward to the six-hour drive to Martin’s childhood home in West Virginia. Not only did I have him to myself, but we had plenty of time to get to know each other better. And I wasn’t wasting any time.

“So, what kind of kid were you?” I asked, my hand resting beneath his on the center console.

“A handful. Ma used to say—” he stopped.

My heart skipped; how could I have been so thoughtless? I pulled my hand from beneath his and ran my fingers through his hair. He took a deep breath and continued, “Ma used to say that she wished I had ten kids just like me, as punishment.” He smiled at the warm memory.

“Ten?” I laughed. “Kind of a late start,” I teased him and ruffled his hair a little.

“Don’t you worry. I’m not looking to start a baseball team.” He turned and smiled at me. “Although…” he winked, “we’re gonna have ten acres of land that needs tendin’.” Martin put on his best southern drawl.

“Daddy will hire someone.” I slapped him.

We drove in silence for a while, letting the asphalt beneath the tires soothe us, changing from the flat, even land to winding mountain roads as we neared his home state.

When we’d almost reached the state line, Martin broke the silence. “I think you’ll love it in Caldwell. Everyone knows everyone. Of course, they know each other’s business, too. But that comes with the territory.” The way he said it made me wonder how long he’d been thinking about how I’d accept his birthplace.

“I’m sure I will. But hey, if not, you can always send me home.” I’d meant it as a joke, but seeing the look of shock on his face as it snapped around at me, I instantly regretted the words.

“Second thoughts?”

“Of course not. We’re going on an adventure.” I tried to change the subject, “What’s Cruz’s first name?”

Martin thought for a minute, then laughed. “I have no earthly idea.”

“Men.”

We fell back into a comfortable quiet, crossing the last state line. I stared out the window, amazed at the difference between D.C. and West Virginia. Some areas looked unkempt and worn down, but they had a rugged feel to them that I’d never found at home.

We could go for miles without seeing another house, and then, a few would pop up randomly. The cities we did find, few and far between, were still less dense than home. I marveled at how people could live so far from each other. How would I manage with no human contact?

Then I remembered I had all the human contact I needed. I ran my hand along Martin’s thigh, feeling his thick muscles tense. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing.” My fingers crept deeper into his personal space.

“I’m not a machine, woman,” he said rather loudly but with a hint of brevity in his voice.

“I’m sure with some practice…” I leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“Well, as nice as that sounds – and believe me I’m game – we should probably not do it going up a mountain.”

I removed my hand and made an overt pouting gesture. “Men,” I said again, and we both chuckled.

Later, when my back and legs couldn’t take another minute, we passed a small green sign that read ‘Caldwell 19.’ Above it was a large billboard. A cartoonish looking older man’s face covered the entire real estate of the sign, complete with a white cowboy hat and cigar. The words “Anderson for Mayor” barely squeezed in below his picture.

“Guess we need to get up on the local politics,” I said.

“What?” Martin tried to look at the sign, but we’d already passed it.

“How long have you been gone? Do you know any of the locals anymore?” I asked, realizing that I really didn’t know what I was getting myself into.

“Ma’s lived here all her life, and so had I, until the Academy. It’s what you’d expect from a small town. Hell, the high school still had a phone booth in the parking lot last time I was here.” He thought for a moment, then added, “I guess it’s been at least five years since I’ve come back. Ma came to live with me after she got sick, and the house stayed empty. I couldn’t bring myself…” he stopped.

“Man, we’re gonna have our work cut out for us,” I sighed.

“Not really. Cruz and a couple of the guys are already there, setting up the security system. I’m sure they got the brunt of it.” Martin laughed. I wondered if visions of haunted, old houses flashed through his head as they did mine.

“Poor Cruz. We owe him so much,” I observed.

“Yeah, he’s been a good kid. I was worried about bringing him on at first. Ma and his Grandmother go way back. I definitely felt the pressure to keep him safe when he went on tour with me.”

I squeezed Martin’s hand. “And you did. You’re a natural protector.”

He smiled at me. “Yeah, I’m amazing.” I slapped him again, lightly. “But Cruz has really come into his own. I gotta remind myself he’s not that twenty-something kid anymore.”

“I’m twenty-something, you know.” Did he see me as just a kid?

“You’ve been an adult your entire life, Vanessa. I can see it in your eyes.”

I turned those eyes away from him and watched the mountains outside my window. That’s why we’re here. To leave that life behind us.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long to arrive at the small, white house. As we turned on the gravel road, I was taken aback by the sprawling green fields on either side. I’d thought our house and property were big, but here, normal middle-American people had the real thing.

I smiled at the thoughts that danced through my head: sitting on the wrap-around porch with Martin, rocking on old wooden chairs, and watching the stars. Planting a garden in the back to grow my own food, and more, enough room to grow crops for an entire city. I wondered how pure and crisp the mountain waters tasted.

“You coming?” Martin asked. Somehow, he’d gotten out of the truck and made it all the way to the front steps while I was busy daydreaming.