Page 4 of Hero Next Door
There hadn’t exactly been a lot of time or opportunity for social calls—which meant I hadn’t had any chance of running into my father or Gordon. No risk of them seeing me and trying to knock down everything I’d built since I ran away.
But now...
Now Scarlett had left me her house and all the land around it, and there were papers there that I had to sign. A house I had to look in on. Land I had to make a decision about. There was no way I could keep it, that was for damn sure. No way I’d ever want to live there—or even spend time there.
The house might hold fond memories for me, but the town itself...
No. I’d escaped the place once. I didn’t plan on letting it get its hooks into me again. But that didn’t change the fact that right now, I had to go. To retrieve those papers, if nothing else, and to see what shape the house was in.
To figure out how quickly I could sell it. Figure out how much it might be worth.
Well, maybe I could get in and get out without anyone knowing. Maybe I could stay with Avery and Jackson, tell them I didn’t want anyone knowing I was in town, and run out to see Butterfly Glen without even going into Arberry.
Maybe...
I snorted. Arberry was a small town where everyone knew everyone and one person’s business was everyone’s business. I wouldn’t even be able to set foot in the area without people knowing about it, no matter where I was staying.
Which meant, I guessed, that I’d just have to get back out again before I saw anyone I didn’t want to see. Got into any situations that would keep me too long... or make things more complicated than they were already going to be.
CHAPTER3
Dev
God, this land was beautiful.
I mean put-your-hand-on-your-heart-and-thank-God-you’d-been-so-blessed sort of beautiful. Not even joking. And on mornings like this, when the mist was rising from the ground and melting up into the sunlight beating down on it, the grass greener than it had any right to be and the trees just starting to dress their branches in leaves and blossoms after a winter of hiding from the cold…
It took my breath away. And I didn’t say that sort of thing easily. In fact, I didn’t think I’d ever said that about anything before.
See, I wasn’t really the kind of guy who got impressed easily. I’d been a lot of places, known a lot of people, seen a lot of things. Been all the way out to the Iraq with the Marines, seen and done things I never would have dreamt, and grown up in a town that was constantly amazing me with the open arms it presented to a kid who was only half-American. And none of it had ever really turned my head.
This view, though…
This never failed to make my head spin with its beauty. And spring was my favorite season here. All green shoots and flowers just starting to turn their faces to the world, moist earth and new calves and chilly mornings that bloomed into bright, beautiful days.
“Lord above, boy, you must not have gotten enough sleep last night,” I groaned, shaking my head at the maudlin thoughts and taking another sip of coffee.
Well. Calling it ‘coffee’ was generous, I supposed. It had a whole lot more cream and sugar in it than it did coffee. But my mom had taught me to drink it sweet, and I’d never been willing to let go of the habit.
It felt too much like letting go of a piece of her.
She would have laughed to hear me going on and on about the land, though. She would have laughed knowing that I owned land at all, and asked me how the hell I’d pulled that off and who I’d held up to get it done.
The truth, of course, was simpler than that. Or at least more straightforward. I hadn’t had to hold anyone up. Mr. and Mrs. Wheating, parents to my best friend, had owned the ranch before me. They’d run it successfully for years and even extended out into a horse breeding operation, and had made quite a name for themselves.
Then Mr. Wheating had been diagnosed with cancer and everything had gone directly to hell. The medical bills, the expense of running the ranch itself, the fact that Mr. Wheating couldn’t manage it on his own anymore and Connor himself had never been built for ranching…
They’d been in trouble. They’d been about to lose the farm and everything that went with it until Connor had said something to me and I’d realized that this right here—this ranch—had been the answer to the questions I’d been asking myself for years. As a half-White, half-Indian kid, I’d never really fit in here, though no one had ever made me feel like an outsider. I’d known enough to know who I was—and who I wasn’t—and I hadn’t need anyone to tell me that I wasn’t the same as everyone else.
When we graduated from high school, I’d immediately signed up for the Marines, anxious to find my place in the world. I’d been sent overseas soon after that, and had spent four years counting the seconds until I could go home again.
I’d seen and done things I never wanted to think about again. And then I’d come home and remembered that I didn’t quite fit here, either.
Until the Wheatings needed to sell their ranch, and everything had fallen into place.
I’d put all the money I’d saved into the purchase and known I had done the right thing by the overwhelming relief I’d seen on their faces when we signed the papers. Those two had practically raised me, and making them so happy, saving them from the fate they’d seen coming for them…
It had been everything.
