Page 86 of Sometimes You Stay

He attempted to drum up some excitement about the day, but as he pulled on his Henley and his fleece vest, he couldn’t find more than his usual obligatory motivation. The animals would be hungry, and they’d need fresh water. They were his responsibility—even if he’d rather stay in bed and pull the covers over his head and pretend that his heart wasn’t still trying to find its new rhythm.

He stamped his feet into his boots by the back door and trudged across the yard. Joe followed him, though maybehe could sense his master’s lethargy because he kept his distance, more than a few paces back.

Suddenly Joe shot past him, racing for the barn and barking at the closed door. His feet skittered, and his hind parts wiggled a strange dance.

“Joe? What’s up?”

But the dog only gave a low, needy woof. And then again, as though to make sure that Finn understood the urgency.

It was probably a skunk or a fox or something. “Calm down. It’s fine.” But when he reached the barn door, it was unlocked. Only a handful of people knew he even locked his barn—let alone where the key was stashed in a small hidey-hole in the barn wall. And he didn’t think his parents or Justin had made the trip to care for his animals.

His heart hammered against his ribs. He had definitely locked the barn the night before.

“Joe,” he hissed, wrestling the dog behind his leg. “Get out of the way.” Of what, he wasn’t exactly sure. But he wouldn’t let Joe be in the direct line of whatever fire might come. Or be the first to stumble upon whatever was inside.

Sliding the door open a crack, he poked his head around it. The light inside cast a yellow glow over the kennels and pens. And a big former milk cow wandered around the middle of the floor.

“Roberta?” He spoke her name as though she would explain how she had gotten loose and why she was roaming around the barn, one big brown eye focused on the Fab Four, who all stood on hind legs, faces pressed against the fence.

“I had to let her out so I could muck her stall.”

The familiar voice was like a long-forgotten hymn, filling him up and stealing his breath in one note.

“Cretia,” he breathed as he raced in the direction of her voice, stopping short of tumbling into the wheelbarrow containing the remnants of Roberta’s pen. Inside, the woman who had filled so many of his thoughts the last few days and long before that leaned against the wooden handle of his rake, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Cretia?” He said her name again to make sure that it was really her, that she was truly back. “How did you ... Where did you ... Why...?” He couldn’t complete any of his thoughts when she smiled at him like that, coy and flirty and joyful.

“I flew back last night. Marie had said if I ever needed a place to stay on the island, she’d be offended if I didn’t stay with her. Then this morning, I had an epiphany, and I had to come to the barn.”

He took a small step toward her, longing to close the distance between them for good. “An epiphany, huh? Sounds important.”

“I figured out why Roberta didn’t like me.”

“What?” Cretia was back. His heart was full again. And she wanted to talk about an ornery cow?

“She couldn’t see me. I kept sneaking up on her blind side, and she didn’t know I was a friend. The whole time I was away, I kept thinking that something had to be wrong. There was no way that every other animal in this barn liked me except her. So I came over this morning to show her I’m on her side.”

“You came back to the island because of my cow?”

“Well...” Cretia shrugged, her face fighting a smile that he could have seen coming from across the harbor. “Among other things. But Roberta was a key factor.”

As her shoulders shook with silent laughter, he realized what she was wearing—the yellow plaid flannel that he’d wrapped around her once upon a time. She’d rolled up the sleeves to her elbows and tied the hem in a cute bow. But he still knew it as his own.

“What is this?” He tugged at the collar of the shirt.

“I found it in the tack room. And I have a limited wardrobe. Plus, I didn’t want to get my clothes dirty. I figured if you’d shared once, maybe you’d be willing to share again. Besides, maybe Roberta would think I was you long enough to let me show her I’m a friend.”

So reasonable. So ridiculous. So Cretia.

“Sweet cinnamon rolls, I’ve missed you.” The words came out on a sigh as he charged into the stall, walking her back until she dropped the rake. When she ran into the wooden wall, he captured her face in his hands.

She bit her lower lip as he smoothed down her hair, twisting his fingers into its loose waves. “I missed you too, Finn.”

He barely heard her as his own words came out in a deluge. “I should have begged you to stay. I should have told you I’d give up anything to keep you here. Even if it’s not forever. Even if it’s just a place you come back to between trips. I don’t want to clip your wings. I’m not trying to fence you in, but I need you.”

Despite a sudden lump in his throat, he pressed on. “I need your laughter. And I need your creativity. And I need your kindness. And your stubbornness too. And I needyou. All of you. I should have told you that before you left. I’m so sorry. I was just ... I thought I needed to let you go, but I don’t think I can. I was trying so hard to do this whole thing alone. To do life alone. But I can’t. And I don’t want to.”

“Finn.”

---