Page 15 of Sweet Surrender

Several large houses were situated near the entrance and an array of smaller ones sat down in the valley. Back in the days of Stone Lawrence, it was expected that many of the children would stay on the farm to raise their own families and help in the labor. And families were big back then, so they needed every bit of that space.

Nowadays, most of the Lawrence family lived in the larger homes up by the wooded hillside. Zane’s grandparents had once lived in the original stone farmhouse at the top of the lane. Then Zane’s parents moved there when his brother Tag got married the first time and took over the Victorian in the shelter of the hillside.

Zane and Tripp each took a house on the edge of the woods when their parents downsized. Zane’s own house was a big blue gothic Victorian with a nice front porch and a widow’s walk. It was a majestic house and he’d appreciated it even more once the twins arrived. Of course, even the big old house overlooking the prettiest view in Vermont hadn’t been enough to keep their mom around after the boys were born.

Don’t think about it.

They headed up the front steps and Tripp threw open the door, releasing the savory scent of homemade chili.

“Boots,”Mom yelled cheerfully from the kitchen.

Tripp shook his head and chuckled, but Zane figured Mom was right for the daily reminder. Tripp was usually the first one through the door, and was liable to be so distracted by the smell of a hot lunch that he forgot to remove his muddy boots before coming in.

It had been the same when they were boys—one more thing that never changed.

Zane kicked off his boots and set them in the tray by the door next to Tripp’s, and then followed his brother down the hall to the kitchen.

When Grandma and Grandpa had lived here, the kitchen was the smallest room in the house. Though Grandma worked culinary miracles in the dark little corner, the family used to eat in shifts when Zane’s dad was growing up.

The first thing Dad had done when he and Mom decided to move in was take down a wall between the kitchen and the oldback parlor, creating a massive open space for cooking and big family dinners.

As he stepped into the bright space overlooking the hillside, Zane couldn’t help smiling at the sight of his parents murmuring to each other happily over the chili pot, and his brother, Tag, setting the table with a spring in his step, humming along as Elvis crooned “Blue Christmas” on the radio.

Last Christmas, Tag had fallen head over heels with the nicest woman, who absolutely adored his kids. They had been married in a whirlwind of joy. And lately, the grumpy Lawrence brother was, if not exactly cheerful, at least much, much less grumpy.

I guess I’m the grumpy one now,Zane thought darkly. He had always been the quiet one, as far as he knew. He shook his head and went over to the kitchen sink to wash up.

“No sneaking bites,” his mother scolded from behind him with a smile in her voice.

That was definitely Tripp trying to get into the chili. The man was always ravenous. He would eat it simmering-hot right out of the pot if she let him.

Out the window, a blue jay landed on one of the feeders Dad put up. And the brilliant blue color instantly made Zane think of Becca Hawthorne’s pretty eyes. Why was he still thinking about the new teacher?

He turned away from the window and dried his hands, frustrated with himself for obsessing about the poor woman. One thing was for certain, whatever she was doing, she wasn’t thinking about him.

His phone began to buzz in his pocket, and he headed over to the big window by the dining table, picking up the call without looking to see who it was.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Um, Mr. Lawrence,” a familiar, bell-clear voice said worriedly. “It’s Miss Hawthorne… from the elementary school.”

“Cal,” he murmured, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach.

“He’s fine,” she said quickly. “But he got a bloody nose playing kickball during recess. I’m at the nurse’s office with him now.”

He exhaled, willing his heart to stop pounding.

It was always this way with the boys. They were used to a little roughhousing on the farm. Zane’s brother, West, the town doctor, was fond of saying that if they didn’t get banged up from time to time, then they weren’t getting outside enough.

“Thanks,” he said. Suddenly, he was unable to stop trying to picture what she looked like on the other end of the phone.

There was an awkward pause, and his pulse began to speed back up again.

“Well,” she said, after a moment. “I just wanted you to know before he came home. Sorry to bother you.”

“It’s not a bother at all,” he said too brightly, immediately feeling like an idiot for it. “Call me anytime.”

He hung up, slipped the phone back in his pocket, and turned to rejoin the family.

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