“Nah, I’m just a farmer. I had an accident when I was a boy,” I said. “You know what an accident is?”
“That a ‘oh no!’”
It had been an “oh no,” alright. A chain on the tractor had snapped and ripped half my face off. It was a one-in-a-million kind of accident where my stupid head had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was lucky as hell I hadn’t lost my eye.
“Yup,” I said. “The doctors fixed me up almost as good as new. Your mummy came to the hospital every day to play board games with me, even though it was summer and she could’ve been swimming in the river with all her friends.”
The little girl beamed. “Matilda like swimming.”
“Oh, yeah?” I said. “You got some fancy goggles to wear so you can see under the water?”
Matilda’s eager nod bopped her curly pigtails. “Yeah!” She shuffled closer. “We go swimming now?”
“It’s a bit cold for swimming in the winter down here.” I reached out to tickle her side, and she peeled off in giggles. “But if you’re still on my farm come springtime, I’ll take you and your mummy to the river.”
I glanced at Erin. She was looking down at me with the biggest smile and mouthed, “Thank you.”
I ducked my head so she wouldn’t see the wave of heat winding its way up my neck to my cheeks.
Would Erin still be here come spring?
I wasn’t a praying sort of man, but I closed my eyes and whispered a silent plea to whoever was listening up there.
Please, can they stay?
6
That Fresh Start in Winter
Erin
When Callan shifted histruck into park, I flung the door open and jumped out. Frosty air filled my lungs. Blue skies and a smudge of clouds soared above me. I wriggled my toes in my sneakers. Familiar, solid ground was beneath my feet, and an ocean separated me from my problems. Running away wasn’t a long-term solution, but today, it was enough.
Callan’s hand landed on my shoulder. “Better?”
“I feel like it’s the first time I’ve been able to breathe in days,” I admitted.
“It gets easier.”
I reached around his back to pull him closer, resting my head on his shoulder. Callan said the words I needed to hear. Not “You’ll be fine” or “It’ll all work out.” He knew about trudging through hard times. Reminding me that my lowest momentwouldn’t always weigh me down was the right place for my head to be.
Callan jerked his head back at the truck. “Duty calls.” He winked before moving past me to grab the suitcases.
“Out!” a voice huffed from the car. I peeked through the back window. Matilda wriggled in the booster seat, arching against the seatbelt. “Matilda out!” She kicked her feet.
I opened the door and bent inside. “Are you excited to see where we’re staying?”
More wriggling and kicking feet. The seatbelt clicked off. Fearless and too impatient to let me help her down, Matilda clambered out of the booster seat, soaring headfirst for the dirt.
Callan dropped a suitcase, and his arm shot out. “Whoa there!” He planted Matilda safely on the ground beside me. “Wait for your mum!”
Matilda waited for no one.
She marched ahead, belly jutting out, arms swinging, her brows scrunched together as she scanned the valley. The mountains and scattered trees didn’t capture her attention, but when her eyes landed on the cottage, her palms clapped her cheeks. The whitewashed stone gleamed like a pearl in the afternoon sun, and with the chimney and pitched tin roof, the quaint little box with its narrow porch looked as if it had popped out from one of her picture books.
Matilda took off down the stepping stones.
“Til!” I cried. ‘Wait!”
