Page 1 of No Place Like Home
Chapter 1
Rowan
Twelve years of my life had been spent in a uniform, waking at the ass-crack of dawn to do PT, traveling to all parts of the globe to support peace—now, with the sign of a pen, it was over, and I was on Interstate 40 heading east toward Tennessee—toward home.
My phone rang through the speakers of my Jeep Wrangler as I inched my way closer to the Tennessee state line. One glance at the caller ID told me it was Trevor, my best friend since middle school. I clicked the answer button just as someone cut me off on the highway. “Son of a bitch, what the fucking hell?” I yelled out the window.
Trevor’s laugh filled the interior. “Damn, Rowan. I’m guessing you’re having a good drive?”
“Oh yeah. It’s been nothing but a party,” I said as I swerved into the left lane and sped up to pass a white minivan. “Been a pretty simple drive until now, but this traffic fucking sucks.” I laid on the horn as another car swerved into my lane. “Has everyone lost their fucking mind and does no one work anymore?” I sighed as theWelcome to Tennesseesign loomed over the road. “At least I’m finally in Tennessee. Only a couple hours left.” I had planned on making a career out of the military, staying in until I could retire, but the past couple years things had become less fun. I found that I suddenly wanted to settle down, and Orlinda Valley called to me.
I chuckled. I hadn’t been home in five years. I’ve been avoiding it like the plague—for no other reason except I use to hate it. Now here I am, heading back to the past. No job, no plans, just hope for the future.
“Tennessee’s the place to be in the fall. You came at the perfect time.”
Trevor’s voice jarred me back to our conversation. “I don’t know if I agree with that. But, anyway, you didn’t tell anyone I’m coming in this early, did you?”
“Nope. Hold on.”
I heard Trevor’s voice move away from the phone speaker, talking to someone else. He was probably serving customers at Jerry’s Pub in our hometown of Orlinda Valley, where he was bartender and part owner. It had been an old hole-in-the-wall bar for as long as I could remember, and when Jerry, the past owner, finally had enough, he sold it to a group of firefighters itching to do something fun and different. Trevor was one of those firefighters, now living both his dreams of saving the town from the occasional fire and owning a bar. From what I’d been told, they’d turned Jerry’s Pub into a thriving business, and now it’s the popular place to be.
“All right,” Trevor said, returning to the call. “So, have you decided where you’re going to crash?”
“Since you can’t promise your couch to your best friend who’s been off keeping your sorry ass safe, I asked Kai when we talked lastnight if I could stay with them. But they’re still under construction, so they don’t have space.”
“I still can’t believe they didn’t ask you to be in the wedding.”
“Fuck that. It’s a wedding, the guy doesn’t know me at all, and I didn’t know when I’d be able to get home. Anyway, he told me I could stay at Kora’s since she’s no longer using her place. As long as Mom doesn’t come over to check on things, I should be good until I’m ready to make my presence known.”
Kora was my cousin, and we were as close as siblings. She and Kai met a little over a year ago and were getting married in two weeks. I was glad she finally found someone to spend her life with. From what I knew about Kai, the man who drove into town one day and right into her heart, he was every bit the man she deserved.
“You know this wouldn’t be such a big deal if you’d’ve come home more often.”
“Yeah, whatever. Doesn’t matter now. I’m home for good.”
“Home and unemployed. You know Bryson’s going to love your irresponsible attitude,” Trevor said.
I shook my head as I passed a semi. I was the youngest of three boys. Bryson was the middle brother. He was loud, obnoxious, and always the life of the party. Jamison was the oldest. A widower and single father, he was serious and loved by all.
Twelve years ago, I turned my back on multiple scholarship offers to play football, because I couldn’t imagine spending four more years in school when I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. Not to mention, I needed to get away from home, and away from the knowledge that I was the only McKendry brother without a plan. The Army had been my out. It was the one thing Bryson andJamison hadn’t pursued, and something I could do on my own that would make my parents proud.
“I don’t give a fuck what Bryson thinks. Even if I found a cure for cancer, he’d have issues with something. I don’t live my life for his praise anymore.” I hit the gas to speed past a semi as we started an uphill climb, but it was all for nothing. As I crested the hill and turned a curve, I saw nothing but a sea of red brake lights, and I slowed to a crawl. “Shit. Traffic is stopped dead. Fuck me. Look, I’ll talk to you tonight. If I ever get home.”
“Sounds good. Stop by the pub when you’re ready to get out. I’ll be here.”
The line went dead. I clicked the end call button and turned up the classic rock channel. I might have grown up near Nashville and enjoyed country music, but one thing I got out of the military was that when you needed mindless music to keep your thoughts from wandering too far, rock ’n’ roll was the only way to go.
Even though the music was loud, the windows were down, and we were going a whopping ten miles an hour, my mind did wander. I probably should have at least let my mother know I was going to be home early, but I knew she’d make a big deal out of it and then get excited about me mending bridges with Bryson and all that shit, and I didn’t want to go there yet. I hadn’t even told Summer, my closest friend aside from Trevor. We talked every week—hell, sometimes multiple times each week. She was going to be pissed when she saw me. She hated surprises.
As the traffic crawled along, I thought back to the first time I truly met Summer. It was a hot and humid June day when we were in middle school. Trevor and I kayaked down the Red River and banked our kayaks at the “swimming hole”, the place where the riverwidened and became deeper. A rope hung from a limb of a large tree that grew out over the bank of the river, and people could jump from a small rock ledge and swing into the water. It was a great place to relax in the sun on the shore, wade in the shallows, or swim past the drop-off, and it was always crowded with local kids taking advantage of the long, humid summer days.
Kora and her best friend, Darlene—now my sister-in-law, married to Bryson—were there with a girl named Summer, whom I’d seen with them many times but had never really talked to before. Near as I could tell, Summer was trying to kill fish—though she insisted she was “skipping rocks”. Either way, she sucked at it.
I walked up next to her, picked up a nice flat rock, leveled it to the ground and let it soar. It hit the water and skipped off the top five times before finally going under. “You’re a fucking show off,” were the first words I remember her saying to me. I had never heard the f-bomb out of a girl’s mouth before and was shocked into a stupor. I instantly realized her language was one hundred percentSummer, and that I had found my newest best friend. The rest of the day was spent tossing around the football, rowing around in Trevor’s and my kayaks, and trying to teach Summer how to skip rocks. She never could get the hang of it. By the time I left for the Army after graduation, she was still unsuccessful, and there were fewer fish in the river because of her attempts.
It was almost five o’clock by the time I took the ramp off the interstate toward Orlinda Valley. The country breeze whipped through my hair as I tapped my hand in rhythm to the music blaring from my speakers. I turned down a back road to take an alternate way to Kora’s, because I wasn’t ready to drive through downtown yet. I was sure I’d see someone walking or driving who would recognizeme, even in this Jeep, and it wouldn’t take long for word to get back to my mother that I was home. I was already risking being seen by my mother staying at Kora’s, since Kora’s five-acre property was adjacent to my family’s land. My mother had sold her the lot years ago, and she had lived there until recently when she moved in with Kai.
I turned off the road onto the gravel driveway, and the tiny brick ranch house came into view. It was the house my parents had lived in when they were first married, on the twenty-five acres of farmland they’d bought along the Red River. Once their family grew, they built a bigger house on the adjacent property, and Mom lived there still.
