Page 5 of The Inn Dilemma

While serving in the SEALs, I wasn’t the easiest to contact, but there’s always email. Looking back, I guess I can see why she left without warning. For most of her life, she was cooped up in her father’s gilded cage, unable to unleash her free spirit. Once she had the opportunity for freedom, she must have grasped it with both hands and literally ran with it.

She takes her time responding. “I don’t deserve your loyalty.” Her eyes fill with moisture, but in true Nova fashion, she wipes her eyes and blinks it away. She shakes her head as if ridding herself of the depressing conversation.

Before I can ask if her brother knows she’s home, Nova grabs my hand and drags me over to the couch, forcing me to sit down, then shoves a cookie in my mouth. I look around as I chew the freshly baked chocolate chip cookie and smile at seeing the little touches of her all around the small cabin.

“How long have you been back?” I ask.

“At the Storybook Inn or in Rocosa?”

“Both,” I answer.

She looks sheepish when she says, “The Storybook Inn, two days. In Rocosa, just over two weeks. Reese let me stay with her for a bit when I first got back.”

“Des’s sister? Weren’t you two pretty close when you were in high school?”

“Yeah. She’s been a good friend even after I left.”

I nod. “Des and Reese are loyal to the very end.” Then I remember what she said about how long she’s been back. “Two weeks? Does your brother know you’re back?” I ask.

Her cheeks turn pink. “No. I can only handle one rejection at a time.”

“What do you mean?”

She gives me a look of disbelief. “Before I left, Chris and I had some pretty heated words. I said a lot that I regret, and I think he did too. But everything he said proved to be true. I don’t expect him to forgive me either.”

Her expression is heartbreaking, and I find myself making a statement I have no way of backing up. “Chris misses you, and he’ll be thrilled to know you’re home.”

She shrugs. “Maybe he will be. Maybe he won’t. Another day or week won’t make any difference either way. Now, where have you been hiding?”

I want to challenge her more, but it’s clear she needs this change of subject. “Out camping at the edge of the property, scouting the area for anything I can legally shoot with my bow.” That’s only part of why I was out there. I was also working on rebuilding a cabin that will one day be my home.

The time in nature also brought me closer to the Creator, who continued to put a new mission on my heart. But I don’t need to lay all of that out there right now. She has enough going on at the moment.

“Did you get anything?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

Nova leans back on the couch, propping her feet onthe table, careful of the wet paint on her toes as she crosses her ankles.

“What else have you been up to since—” She looks at my glass eye, her gaze sweeping up and down the scar. She swallows. “Since coming home?”

I’m silent for a long moment. The difficult memories threaten to return at her question. But I manage to push them out of my head. That explosion could have been so much worse, and I thank God no lives were lost. Just my eye. My therapist warned me that what happened is now a part of me. I pray every day that I don’t let it become my identity.

Nova squeezes my arm. “Holt? You still with me?” The gentleness in her brown eyes and the softness of her hand on my arm does something funny to my chest.

“Yeah, just…” I trail off, swallowing the lump in my throat.

She shakes her head and pulls her hand away. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking when I asked.”

“No, no. It’s fine.” And it’s as fine as it can be for the circumstances. My therapist has helped, and of course spending time with God does too, but trying to move past the mission is something I will never fully get over. But I don’t say any of that. “I just work here with Aunt Birdie and help out around town when someone needs a handyman.”

Nova is silent for a minute, appearing to study my expression as if she’s trying to decide if that’s the whole story. It’s been years since I’ve seen her, yet she still seems to know my tells and shifts the mood and topic away from what she knows is painful for me.

She wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh, so you’re Rocosa’s Mr. Fix-It.”

I shrug. “I guess you could say that.”

“Is there finally a special lady in your life?”

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