Page 35 of Hometown Girl

Her older brother looked the part of a rugged outdoorsmen, like he’d just stepped off the pages of an Eddie Bauer catalog. In fact, he fit so well in the great outdoors, Beth couldn’t understand how or why he’d chosen to make a life in the city. He didn’t care as much as she did what people thought of him, so what was it? Why was he so intent on staying away from Willow Grove?

“I’ll look around and let you know what I think.”

“And you’ll help me come up with a plan?”

Ben met her gaze. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

She frowned. “No. That’s not at all what you said.”

“I’ll let you know. Just give me some space, you nutball.” He walked away, pretending to be annoyed. At least Beth thought he was pretending.

As he disappeared behind the old barn, she did a slow turn around the property. What if this was another bad investment? What if this time, instead of being purposely swindled by a slick-talking salesman, she was accidentally swindled by a well-intentioned sister?

Beth had managed to save back up a little—enough to match Molly’s investment, but not much more. What would she tell her siblings when they asked why she couldn’t put more toward their new pet project? She certainly couldn’t tell them the truth.

People bustled around the yard, hauling branches and piling garbage into the dumpster, all working diligently for the promise of something none of them could really deliver—pockets of peace in the middle of a much too busy life.

And it was all Beth could do not to wonder if she’d just sunk the last of her little nest egg into a project doomed before it started.

Chapter Ten

Outside, Drew watched as people gathered rakes and hoes and trash cans from their cars, each moving purposefully toward whatever task they’d been assigned.

He’d slipped out without a job, not quite ready to sign on to anything until he saw the old place for himself.

Fairwind had changed. Twenty years, what did he expect? Behind the main barn, he could see the roofs of the outbuildings, outlined by trees whose leaves had filled out nicely for spring. He walked the same path he’d walked so many times as a boy, only this time he walked it alone.

All those years ago, Jess had been right on his heels.

“Keep an eye on her, Drew,” his dad had called after them. Drew had waved to let them know he’d heard. Of course he’d keep an eye on her; they weren’t interested in anyone else on the farm—and he needed Jess to remind him where the best fishing spots were.

That’s how they’d spent their days. Fishing in the lake. Catching grasshoppers. Hide-and-seek. Bonfires. Everything had seemed so simple back then, like something straight out of a fifties television show.

Drew’s family stayed in the guest rooms inside the farmhouse, which didn’t look so old and worn back then. For him, it was a treat—their own little getaway. And while his parents and Jess’s parents did boring grown-up things during the day, he and Jess had played the summer days away in the fields and outbuildings—basking in the sun, fishing, hiding in the corn, dreaming in the rafters.

Drew rounded a bend, and a small red barn appeared in a clearing up ahead. He paused for a minute, willing himself to breathe.

He stopped. This was so stupid. What did he think he was going to find? Evidence? Would he just walk in and replay the entire event with stark mental clarity—all the missing parts from his dream neatly filled in and ready for a police report?

There was a reason he hadn’t been back in all these years. The whole idea of it—his even being here—was absurd.

And yet, here he was.

He wanted the nightmares to stop. Wanted to get her face—the sound of her laughter—out of his mind.

Drew pushed the door open and stared inside the dark space. In a flash, he was ten again, hiding in the loft, the smell of hay and earth filling his nostrils. He could almost hear her voice cut through the black.

“Drew, no fair. You know I don’t like this barn.”

He did know. It was why he’d hidden there. She’d always had an unnatural fear of the outbuildings on the property, but especially the small red barn. As if she knew, as if something inside her had warned her to stay away.

And he’d been the one to lead her straight into it.

If he’d just hidden somewhere else—by the lake, up in the giant oak tree, in the bakery cooler—that day wouldn’t have happened.

He closed his eyes. Felt the wet as it ran down his cheeks. It was a mistake, his being here, but he was frozen in place.

The sound of the car door echoed through the hollowness of his memory in the empty barn. The shadow slipped across the darkness. Drew’s heart raced as he called out to her.

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