Page 5 of Echoes of You

My lips twitched. Grae had been on a mission to clean up her foul language since the birth of Lawson’s first son. The result was the creation of some creative non-curse words. “It’s good to see you.”

She let out a squeal and did a ridiculous happy dance. “I’m so happy you’re back. Wren’s going to be, too. We have to get together for a girls’ night ASAP.”

“I’d love that. Just give me a few days to get settled.”

Grae crossed to me and extended the keys. “Here you go. Do you want me to stick around and help you clean?” Her nose scrunched. “It’s going to need it.”

I chuckled. “That’s okay. I can handle it.”

“What about cleaning supplies and groceries?”

“I stopped at a Target on my drive and got all the essentials to tide me over for at least a few days. But thank you.”

“Well, my number’s the same. Text me if you need anything at all. And you have to come to family dinner on Sunday.”

My heart cracked. How many family dinners had I gone to at the Hartleys’? Too many to count. “If I’m settled by then, I’d love to.”

Grae studied me, her gaze boring into mine as if she were trying to see all the secrets I’d buried deep. She started to speak and then shook her head. “It’s good to have you back, Maddie. We missed you.”

My heart squeezed. “I missed you, too.”

“I’ll let you get settled. But, remember, text me.”

“I will.”

Grae climbed into her SUV and headed down the driveway.

I took my first full breath since hearing her voice. On my exhale, I tried to let the tension bleed out of my body. But it was as if my muscles had grown so used to it that they didn’t want to let go. Everything in me was still braced for attack.

I rolled my shoulders back and started toward the door. The front steps creaked as I climbed them, and the railing looked as if it might topple over if I put any pressure on it. When I opened the screen door, the hinges squeaked with a high-pitched sound that would’ve made any dog howl. I mentally added WD-40 to the list of things I needed to buy. Maybe Jordan would give me a discount on rent if I fixed up a few things around here.

Stepping inside, I sneezed. The coating of dust was thick. And I didn’t want to think about what might be below it. I was sure the layers of dirt and grime had all but petrified. Still, beneath all of that, the bones of this place were gorgeous.

Typically, these older cabins had tiny rooms and a lack of light, but whoever had designed this place had been ahead of their time. The sun shone through large windows that looked out on the forest, and the entire living area was open and airy. While dated, the place had a good-sized kitchen with an island, a dining room with an old-school picnic table, and a living room with a massive fireplace. What it didn’t have was a couch.

I winced. Jordan had told me the cabin lacked furniture. He’d had a bed delivered for the primary bedroom, but I’d have to scrounge up the rest.

I could do that. There was a secondhand store in town that supported Habitat for Humanity. I could probably find a cheap couch there. With the dining table and a bed, that was all I’d need.

Moving through the space, I quickly checked out the four bedrooms and three bathrooms. They were all spacious, and the bedrooms had the same large windows as the living space. Once I’d thoroughly cleaned, this place could be a real home.

A bubble of excitement coursed through me. I could make this place whatever I wanted it to be. No bowing to someone else’s dictates or worrying over whether changes would set another person off. It was all mine.

I grinned and headed back to my SUV. Opening the hatch, I pulled out bags of cleaning supplies. My ribs ached with the movement, but I ignored them. I’d pop a couple of Tylenol and ibuprofen before I got to work.

Wandering through the cabin, I opened every window and door. The fresh pine air wafted in and cleared away the worst of the stale smell. Then, I got to work.

I lost myself in systematically dusting every surface, working from the top down. Sneezing attacks hit me every few minutes, but I didn’t care. Cleaning the space that would be my home was a meditation of sorts. Calming. Peaceful.

But I was so distracted by the process that I didn’t even hear someone enter. Not until a familiar, deep voice cut through the space. One I hadn’t heard in person for far too long. One that made my soul ache.

“Hey, Mads.”

I nearly broke then. I hadn’t when Adam had thrown me into a wall. Not when he’d slammed his foot into my ribs. Not when I’d crawled to the bedroom and locked myself inside. Not when he’d left me alone to:“Think about what I’d done.”Not when I’d packed up everything that would fit in my SUV while in so much pain I’d worried I’d pass out. Not when I drove all the way across the country alone and terrified.

But hearing Nash’s voice? I nearly broke then.

Because I’d loved Nash Hartley for as long as I could remember. Cedar Ridge was just a place. But Nash would always be home.

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