“That’s heavy and so heartbreaking.” Her voice is choked. “I can’t even imagine what that must have been like, but I hate that you blame yourself.”
I shake my head, fighting off the darkness that always washes over me when I think about that time directly after my brother’s passing. Nothing felt real. The earth kept spinning, time kept ticking, but the quake that split our foundation was too deep, too widespread.
“It was like we all died a little that day. Together or apart, none of us has been the same. When Silver came along two years later, she was like a patch to a wound that would never heal. I think we all tried, some more than others. But Benson definitely struggled the most.”
Hope tightens her hold on my hand. “Where is he now? You mentioned what your other brothers are doing but not him.”
I shrug and swallow, my mind trying to remember the last time I heard from or about him. “I wish I knew. His phone is never on. He doesn’t return texts or calls. He’s a transient. Drives from city to city in his van, hikes for days on end. He hasn’t been back since the day he turned eighteen. Didn’t even finish high school.”
“He’ll be back.”
Hope’s optimism normally makes me rethink my own ideas and assumptions, but not this time. This is one problem she can’t find the light in, no matter how hard she’ll try.
“C’mon. You can’t possibly believe that. He’s been gone for nine years.”
“I do believe it, and you do too. It’s why you work so hard to keep this camp alive. It’s why you work the stables even though it’s the last thing you want to be doing. It’s why you’re trying to reinvent this place to be closer to what you all dreamed about.” She steps in front of me and places her hands on my waist, staring up into my eyes. “I see you, Anderson Bexley. I see your heart, and I see your intentions. What you’re doing is beautiful, and they’ll see it too. If you build it, they will come, isn’t that right?”
I smile at the old reference to one of our favorite movies. “You might be onto something.”
Hope returns my smile and tightens her hold around my waist, the closeness of her almost making me forget everything that happened before this point. Her gentle touch, her cozy vanilla scent, her full pouty lips close enough to devour with a simple bend of my body. What I’d done to deserve her arms around me is a mystery I never want to solve. I just want her.
“Have you thought about calling them?” she asks. “I know talking’s not your thing, but sometimes people need to hear that you love and miss them.”
“Is that what I should have done with you?” I ask, catching the widening of her eyes at the subject change. “Should I have called?” Should I have confessed how much I love you?
The sad look in her eyes breaks my heart. “You should have done a lot of things, Bexley. The point is you need to try with your brothers. They’re your family.”
“And you’re just as important to me.”
Her eyes squeeze shut, and she shakes her head. “This isn’t about me. Anyway, why are you finally telling me all this now?”
“I guess because I have nothing else to lose.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Nah, I think I’m done keeping quiet. That’s all I seem to do anymore, and you know what? It gets me nowhere. So this time, I’m going to tell it how it is, and you’re going to listen.” I bend down slightly so our foreheads are only an inch apart. “I fucked up. I hurt you. And the weight of my regret over causing that pain is my burden to bear for the rest of my fucking life. But you belong here, Hope, just as much as I do. This is your home, and I’ll make it my mission to remind you of that for as long as you’re here.”
Her eyes widen, and she takes a small step back, her breaths coming quicker. “Well, shit, Bexley. Where was that gusto last year when you could have used it?”
“I guess I needed a little inspiration.”
Hope’s surprise relaxes into a smile, and it just might be the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen her wear. It feels like the beginning of forgiveness—and maybe something more.
“How about you use that inspiration to give me feedback on these new designs?” She pulls her phone from her pocket and shakes it in front of me.
“Only if you let me make you dinner.”
“Deal.”
Chapter Ten
HOPE
Anderson flips on the switch to the cafeteria kitchen and leads me to the back of the room. There’s a long stainless-steel counter with a huge matching refrigerator to the right and a walk-in pantry beside it.
I look around at the immaculate room and laugh. “Wow, I just got hit with all the fun memories of cafeteria duty. As much as I loved this place, I do not miss that chore one single bit.”
Anderson chuckles, his focus on grabbing ingredients for whatever he’s cooking up. “Cafeteria duty isn’t all that bad.”
“Says the man who never worked a shift of it.”
His grin widens, and I can almost see the old Anderson charm that I loved getting glimpses of when he would finally let his guard down. Those moments were few and far between, but they were worth all the waiting.
“Trust me, my brothers and I worked plenty of food shifts when we were young. I paid my dues. Besides,” he says, throwing me a glance while pulling out a carton of heavy cream, “it could have been worse. I never made you shovel manure.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Wow. So generous of you.”
“My dad believed that the best leaders were ones that understood the ins and outs of everything they were asking. He might have taken that notion a bit too far at times, but I respect the principle of it.”
I hop on the counter while watching him navigate the kitchen as though he could be doing it blind. After hearing his heartbreaking story earlier, the darkness I always saw behind Anderson’s tough exterior finally started to make sense. “I might joke about cafeteria duty, but I never complained.”
His gaze settles on me. “I know.”
There’s something more to those two simple words that resembles gratitude. I can feel them in his stare, in his tone, in the way he has to suck in a breath a moment later before averting his eyes. Anderson truly is a man passionate about the simple life, and I still love that about him.
He quickens his steps around the kitchen, pulling together noodles, thawed chicken breasts, seasonings, spinach, tomatoes, and cheese. He doesn’t even stop to look at a recipe. It’s almost like he prepared for this exact moment.
“Do you still go to that bar down the road?”
He heats the stove and adds some olive oil. “You mean the Barnacle?” Anderson makes a face and smiles. “Not as much. I’ve been pretty busy. Besides, it’s not really the same without you and Silver.” He quirks a lip. “You two were always ridiculous drunks.”
I scoff at the insult. “We were giddy drunks. You only think we were ridiculous because you were always so boring.”
“If being your designated driver so you two could get sloshed every time we went out is your definition of boring, then I guess I’m guilty.”