He didn’t feel at home anywhere...except with her
Fifteen years ago, Erin crushed Burke Daniels by choosing his brother over him. Now, after being left at the altar by his fiancée, Burke’s back in Findlay Roads trying to put his life back together—and falling for his now-widowed sister-in-law all over again.
He skipped town when Erin broke his heart. But after bonding with her son—his nephew—and realizing he still loves her, Burke doesn’t know how he can ever leave Erin again. Even if she tells him he has to...
“Why did you come back to Findlay Roads at all? You missed Gavin’s funeral. And then six months later you showed up here, as if nothing had changed.”
“That is not fair,” he snapped, rising to his feet. “Everything had changed.”
“Not for you! You’d barely been home in years—”
“I lost my brother!” He cut her off. “My best friend! You think you’re the only one who has grief to manage? You’re not alone in this, Erin. You’re not the only one who misses him.”
“But don’t you see?” she murmured, the words raspy. “You’d already left years ago. You had all this time and distance already. How can you possibly know what it felt like to lose him, without a choice?”
“But I do know.” Burke’s words sounded hard to his own ears. “You forget that I lost both my parents without a choice. And then my brother, too.”
Erin’s jaw clenched, and he could tell she was holding back what she wanted to say. He knew the expression well.
When she finally spoke, she said nothing more about Gavin but rather warned him, “Just don’t get so close to Kitt that you break his heart when you leave.”
With that, she turned on her heel and headed back inside, leaving him to wonder just whose heart she was really worried about him breaking.
Dear Reader,
Grief is a tricky thing. It has no timetable. It will catch you unawares, lulling you into a false sense of security one hour, only to strike you savagely with the reminders of your loss in the next.
Grief is no stranger to the characters in The Way Back to Erin. With the death of her husband, Erin has had to dig her way through the years that have passed, remaining strong for herself and Gavin’s son, Kitt. When she faces the threat of losing the Moontide Inn, which has been her home and safe haven for years, her grief is rekindled. Her struggle to reconcile her shattered dreams with the return of Burke, a love she laid to rest many years ago, is at the heart of this story.
When my editors suggested the title to me, something settled in my spirit. The Way Back to Erin encompasses so much of what this book is about. Not only is Burke finding his way home and back to Erin after his own losses, but Erin is finding her way back to herself, defining who she is without Gavin, who was the foundation of her existence for so long. What she learns is this:
Grief will tie you up, cut you deep and hold you down. But it will not keep you there forever.
For whatever you have personally lost, I am sorry. And I hope that sooner rather than later, you find your way back home.
If you’d like to share your story with me, I would love to hear from you. Contact me through my website at cerellasechrist.com, online via Facebook or Twitter, or by mail at PO Box 614, Red Lion, PA 17356.
Cerella Sechrist
The Way Back to Erin
Cerella Sechrist
Cerella Sechrist lives in York, Pennsylvania, with two precocious pugs, Darcy and Charlotte, named after Jane Austen literary characters. Inspired by her childhood love of stories, she was ten years old when she decided she wanted to become an author. As a former barista, Cerella is a coffee snob who can spend hours discussing the finer points of a good Italian roast. She’s been known to post too many pug photos on both Instagram and Pinterest. You can see for yourself by finding her online at cerellasechrist.com.
Books by Cerella Sechrist
Harlequin Heartwarming
A Song for Rory
Harper’s Wish
The Paris Connection
Gentle Persuasion
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To Haley Sechrist: sister-in-law, fellow barista, “buffet buddy,” TV fan, cake lover and general partner in crime (remember to hide the evidence, especially when it involves cookie crumbs!)
Thanks for all the coffee, conversations, tears and laughter. But especially for being family.
Acknowledgments
Much gratitude to editor extraordinaire Karen Reid as well as Victoria Curran and the rest of the Harlequin Heartwarming team for all their hard work and support. You all have shaped Findlay Roads into the best little fictional town in Maryland.
Special thanks to my fellow Heartwarming authors, who are some of the most supportive and encouraging people I have ever met, with extra kudos to my blog partner, Loree Lough, for the phone chats, brainstorming sessions and support, and to Kate James for her patience, organization and general superwoman skills.
You all warm my heart.
Additional thanks to fellow author Lisa Lawmaster Hess for our Starbucks writing sessions and helping my characters find their way through this story.
Finally, to my family and friends, who always provide me with the best character fodder.
I love you all.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT FROM HIGH COUNTRY COP BY CYNTHIA THOMASON
CHAPTER ONE
WHEN THE CLOUDS first rolled in, Burke had felt disappointment. Thirty minutes later, he wondered if the weather had known what was coming well before he did and had conspired to provide an appropriate backdrop to the day.
As he stood there with the June rain pouring down, soaking through his tuxedo and slipping down the back of his neck, he shivered. The guests had retreated, taking shelter in the tent where the reception was to be held. He felt like he should take charge, make an announcement, tell them to go ahead and enjoy the dinner that had already been bought and paid for. But his father-in-law...no. He brought that thought up short.
Allan Worth would not be his father-in-law after all. Not since Tessa had failed to show up, disappearing from the Delphine Resort where their wedding was being held.
She was gone, as completely as the sun. The rain pelted his face, but he stubbornly remained outside, welcoming the hammer of the elements. It soothed his disappointment, his embarrassment, his confusion.
Tessa didn’t want to marry him. Or so the note in his clenched fist claimed. It was a paltry offering with no excuses. Just two simple lines.
I can’t marry you. I’m sorry.
Burke raised his eyes and looked toward the portico of the hotel where his and Tessa’s closest family members and friends congregated. Paige, Tessa’s oldest sister, was gesturing wildly. Though he couldn’t read her lips, they
were moving at a fast clip, probably worrying more over the blow to the family’s reputation that a runaway bride would deliver rather than the fact that Tessa had disappeared. Harper, Tessa’s other sister, had her arms wrapped around their mother and was staring at her cell phone screen, as though willing it to ring.
Allan Worth was nowhere to be seen. Tessa’s father was likely doing damage control among the guests, apologizing for the inconvenience, offering refreshments. Like Burke should be doing. But he didn’t have the strength to face the expressions filled with sympathy, the strange condolences for someone who hadn’t died yet had disappeared just the same.
He shifted his gaze from the small crowd on the portico and caught sight of Molly Callahan, Tessa’s niece by marriage, playing tag with several other children, oblivious to how the rain stained their fine dress clothes. His lips tugged upward at the sight, and he wished he could abandon his dark mood and join them.
He searched the group of children for his nephew, Kitt, and wasn’t surprised when he didn’t see the little boy among them. Ever since his father’s death two years before, Kitt had become a very serious child. Running through the rain wasn’t something he’d take part in.
Burke moved his eyes back to the portico and found his nephew seated at Great-Aunt Lenora’s feet, the old woman’s hand absently stroking his hair. She leaned down and said something to the boy, but he didn’t respond.
Burke’s heart twisted anew. Not for his own loss but for his nephew’s. Would Kitt never laugh again?
Then again...would he? Between his brother’s death almost two years ago and now Tessa’s defection, he didn’t think there was much to smile about these days. His eyes continued to scan the group gathered on the portico, the kids scattered around the lawn, and the guests huddled in the tent, drawing into the center to avoid the rain that was blowing in through the open flaps.
It wasn’t until he saw her approaching that he realized he’d been looking for her in particular.
Erin. His brother’s widow, braving the downpour to get to him. Funny that no one else had bothered.
When she reached his side, she held out an umbrella, and he almost—but not quite—laughed at the sight. She’d picked her way across the grass, letting the deluge soak her, and hadn’t opened the umbrella. What good would it be to either of them now?
“Aunt Lenora says you should come in out of the rain.”
He could only blink in reply. Erin took a step closer.
“Burke, I’m sorry. But she’s not coming back. There’s no point in standing out here, waiting for her.”
“I’d rather be out here than in there—” he gestured toward the tent “—where they can all stare at me.”
Erin took his hand, the warmth of her fingers startling him. His own were chilled straight through to the bone.
“No one’s staring, Burke. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Her words penetrated, and he laughed, an empty, bitter sound. “I’ve just been stood up by my fiancée on my wedding day, which was already ruined by this freak rainstorm. I kind of think I have something to be embarrassed about.”
Erin’s eyes sparked. “Well, I imagine standing out here in the rain like an idiot only makes it worse.”
His jaw sagged. “You know, most people would be feeling sorry for me right about now.”
She sighed. “I do feel sorry for you, Burke. But I don’t pity you. Tessa’s not a cruel woman. If she didn’t want to marry you, then I suspect she had a good reason. Now, are you coming in out of the rain or not?”
He swallowed, shifting his gaze from Erin and to the arbor that had looked so festive and fresh only an hour earlier. Now, the boughs of greenery were sagging, dripping water in rivulets down the white columns. The flowers had lost quite a few petals, beaten from their stems by the rain and littering the ground in a soggy mess.
“I have nowhere to go,” he said, more to himself than to Erin. He’d lived for so long without a home that he hadn’t realized how much he was looking forward to finally settling down.
All of his possessions were boxed up in Tessa’s garage. He was supposed to move in with her after their honeymoon. He felt a pang at the realization that he wouldn’t have a home after all.
“You can stay at the Moontide,” Erin told him. “Aunt Lenora already said so.”
“I can’t stay at the inn,” he replied, almost defensively.
Erin frowned. She was a mess, the rain having washed her mascara in black lines down her cheeks. He felt a twinge of guilt that she was standing out here, in the rain with him, when no one else had bothered.
“Why not?” she demanded.
He couldn’t explain it to her, couldn’t give voice to his feelings on the subject. There were so many reasons for him to stay away from the bed-and-breakfast. Despite the fact that it had been his permanent home for four years as a teenager, he had never felt like he belonged there. And even less so now, knowing it was the house where Erin and Gavin had made their home, even though his brother had been deployed in the army for much of that time. Maybe it shouldn’t have mattered, given that the inn was over two centuries old and had housed hundreds, maybe thousands, of guests during its lifetime. What was one more?
But it wasn’t that simple. Not for him.
While this internal argument ensued, Erin’s fingers tightened on his, the heat of her skin briefly bringing some feeling back into his own.
“It’s either the inn, or we ask Allan to put you up in the Delphine.”
This snapped some sense back into him. “I am not going to ask my fiancée’s father to put me up at the resort he owns after she ditched me.” He coughed. “Ex-fiancée,” he corrected.
Erin frowned. “You said it yourself, you have nowhere to go.”
He closed his eyes at the reminder. How had he ended up here? Just an hour ago, he’d had everything he ever wanted—he’d been about to become a husband, hopefully within the next year or two, a father, and he’d finally felt a sense of belonging. At peace. Settled.
But now all his dreams had washed away with the coming of the rain...and Tessa’s desertion.
The Delphine and the Moontide were the only two hotels in town. The Lodge had boarded up its doors last year. So he could either drive an hour outside of town and use his credit card to put himself up at a motel on the outskirts until he could figure out his next move, or he could go begging Allan Worth for a free room at the Delphine.
He was sure his father-in-law—correction, his ex-fiancée’s dad—would have let him stay in the suite he and Tessa were meant to have for their wedding night, but no way did he want to set foot in that room now. Nor did he want to stay at the Delphine at all, where the staff and Tessa’s family could take note and whisper about him behind his back.
That only left the Moontide.
Erin stood there patiently, letting him sort through his options before she spoke up once more.
“It would make Aunt Lenora happy,” she pointed out. “She’s always said that the years you lived there were some of her happiest.”
He hadn’t lived at the Moontide since he was eighteen years old. Other than a handful of visits, he hadn’t spent any length of time at the bed-and-breakfast since he and Gavin had lived there as teenagers.
“She’s missed having you under her roof,” Erin added.
He swallowed, not daring to voice the question that rose unbidden.
And you, Erin? Did you ever miss me?
He quashed the thought as quickly as it came. There was no point in thinking along these lines. He had spent several long years burying that question as deeply as he could. The only reason it surfaced now, he told himself, was because he was feeling vulnerable and betrayed. But he would not even consider the subject because it no longer mattered.
His heart protested, whispering, It does matter. It’s always mattered
.
But he ignored his heart’s cry and tugged his hand free of Erin’s.
“All right. If Lenora has a room to spare, I’ll come to the Moontide.”
Erin looked at him so intently that he shifted away from her.
“But only tonight, Erin. Just until I get things sorted out.”
Erin didn’t argue with him, and no matter how hard he tried to bury the feeling, part of him wished she would.
* * *
THE UNEXPECTED STORM had blown over, but it left behind a few threadbare clouds and an unseasonal chill in the summer air. Erin laid out Kitt’s long-sleeved pajamas and left him to dress for bed before checking in on Burke.
Her brother-in-law had collapsed onto the bed in the Galway Room, one of the Moontide’s middle-size bedrooms, as soon as they had returned home from the Delphine.
As she peeked inside the door he’d left ajar, she could see he hadn’t moved from where she’d left him, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest told her he’d fallen into a sound sleep. She moved into the room and opened the armoire, pulling out one of the family afghans, knitted years ago by Aunt Lenora’s grandmother.
She buried her face briefly into the soft, worn cotton, inhaling the scents of lavender and cedar from the armoire’s interior before she unfolded it and stepped toward the bed. She draped the blanket over Burke’s sleeping form, arranging it carefully, the same as she did for Kitt when he fell asleep on the couch while reading.
She lingered in the room, tidying up small details like centering the pair of porcelain songbird figurines sitting slightly askew on the fireplace mantel, pushing the ceramic pitcher and basin on the bedside table away from the edge and tugging a stray cobweb free of the wooden desk chair.
At one time, Aunt Lenora kept a girl on the payroll to come in twice a week for detailed cleaning of the rooms at the B&B. But in the last year, the inn’s revenue had dropped so much that she’d been forced to try to clean the rooms herself. At eighty-nine, scrubbing floors and washing windows had taxed the older woman to her limits. When Erin had come upon her one day, leaning on the wardrobe in the Killarney Suite and heaving for breath, she had known it was time to take over.
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