No matter how many video calls or birthdays passed, the empty space never got easier to see.
My brother, Cole, had lost Lila to breast cancer three years ago. Two months later, he’d left, too. The argument between him and my father had been brewing longer. Maybe since we were boys. I hadn’t heard the words that finally kicked off the fight, but by the time I’d sprinted across the field and stepped in to block the punches already flying, the damage had been done.
“Our Lord above cursed me the day you were born first,” Dad had shouted at Cole.
Life was never the same after that.
Cole had dumped a few bags in the back of his truck and disappeared in the dead of night. Dad rarely came up to the house anymore. He pottered around the fields. He nodded a hello to me and frowned at the blueberry bushes I was cultivating alongside the strawberries that had grown here for generations, but he never said much. His pride had convinced him he’d find a way to apologize to Cole at the bottom of a whisky bottle.
Mim still said, “Your brother will be back when he’s ready,” but I’d faced reality a long time ago.
Cole wasn’t coming back.
Mim’s elbow digging into my ribs dragged my attention out of the past and back to the screen. “You didn’t say hello, Cal!”
My lips stretched into some sort of smile. I nodded in acknowledgement. Being cool and funny around Erin was a lot easier over messages. How was a man supposed to remember words when those gorgeous brown eyes were staring straight at him?
“It feels like forever since we talked.” Mim shuffled over to hog more of the screen. “Where’s Til? Is she still up to say hello to her Mim?” She speared glares at Bronte and me over her shoulder. “Lord knows that precious little darlin’ is the closest I’ll ever get to havin’ my own grandbaby.”
Erin ducked her head to muffle a laugh. “She’s finally fallen asleep after readingSpot Goes to the Swimming Poolfor the third time.”
“She’s still lovin’ the pop-up books?”
“Obsessed.”
“I’m makin’ notes for Christmas.”
“So,” Bronte interrupted. “I suppose you’re calling for him?” She jerked her head in my direction.
“Yeah.” Erin’s eyes found me hiding in the background. “Can I steal you for a couple of minutes?”
I wanted her to steal me forever. “Yup” is what I said out loud, though.
Bronte snatched the tablet before Mim could get her hands on it. “Run!” She shoved it at me.
I didn’t. Holding it above my head was enough to keep it out of reach from those two. “I’m just heading somewhere quiet”—I grinned up at the screen—“and out of the earshot of mothers.”
“I won’t listen!” Mim called.
“I reckon you might try!” I shouted back.
I headed past the living room. The fussy sofas with too many pillows should’ve felt comfortable, but the room was built for a family, not just me. I rarely sat in there. Instead, I walked the long corridor to the old servants’ quarters. My room was at the end.
Erin tipped her head and gave me one of her magic smiles. “Just finished for the day?”
“Yup. I walked off the fields and into an argument.”
“Mim’s still giving Bron a hard time about buying the old sheep station?”
“Got it in one.”
“How long until the contract settles?”
“A week or so, I think.”
“Want me to have a quiet word with Mim?”
“Have a loud one if you think it’ll make any difference. She doesn’t listen to me.” I propped the tablet on the nightstand and parked my ass on the edge of the bed. “Alright, you’ve got me on my lonesome. What’s going on?”
