The Way Back to Erin Read online

  Her expression held a combination of sympathy and regret, and he held up a hand to forestall whatever she might say next.

  “It’s okay. I get it. I can’t compete with a ghost—especially not Gavin’s. He was always the better brother.”

  “Burke—”

  “Don’t.” He hadn’t said it to earn her sympathy—he had no patience for pity. It was simply the truth.

  Everyone loved Gavin. He’d always had a way of making people laugh, helping them feel better about themselves. Burke counted himself lucky to have had him for an older brother. And he didn’t blame Erin for loving Gavin more than him—he never had. It was only that, even with his older brother gone, he was still competing with him.

  And he knew he could never quite measure up to Gavin, especially in death.

  * * *

  BURKE FOUND HE couldn’t stay in the house after his conversation with Erin. He grabbed his camera from his room and headed out on foot, just to walk around, distract himself, burn off some creative energy. He hadn’t touched his camera since coming to the Moontide, but as soon as he had it in his hands, he felt marginally better.

  Photography was more than just a hobby or livelihood; it was his coping mechanism. He’d started playing around with it after his parents died, when he and Gavin were being shuffled among relatives. It provided stability. Photos didn’t change. They preserved certain moments in time forever. He could hold onto a place, even if he had to leave it. He still had a piece of someone he loved, even after they were gone.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t have many photos from before his teenage years. They’d been lost in the fire that had destroyed his childhood home, as well as taken his parents’ lives. He and Gavin had been away at a sleepover that night. People said it was a mercy.

  Burke had never quite seen it that way. Not that he would have wanted to die with his parents. But neither did anything seem merciful about that tragic loss of life and home and memories stolen far too soon.

  He headed right out of the inn’s driveway for no reason other than the park was in the opposite direction, and he didn’t want to run into Aunt Lenora and Kitt. He needed some time to compose himself, to readjust his thoughts, particularly before he saw Kitt again.

  Nothing that happened between him and Erin would change how he felt about Kitt, how much he loved his nephew. But it did mean he’d have to be more careful with his expressions. He didn’t want Kitt to guess how deeply he felt about Erin. There was no point confusing the kid. He needed as much stability as he could find, and Burke’s feelings for Erin were anything but steady.

  It was a fair walk to Fallon Point overlooking the town, but despite the distance, Burke headed in that direction. His thoughts were a mire of uncertainty. He couldn’t believe he’d lost Erin a second time, just like he had years before. It made his presence at the Moontide all the more complicated. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay there. The painful memories of his teenage years at the inn, combined with Erin’s rejection, would make it even harder to be within its walls.

  So he faced the question he’d been avoiding ever since he’d realized Tessa wasn’t walking down the aisle: Where did he go now?

  Financially, he was doing fine. He’d kept up with his photography, but his direction had shifted to subjects within a hundred-mile radius rather than exotic locales. The market for these wasn’t quite as lucrative as international photos, but he’d been in the business long enough and had established enough of a reputation that he did all right. Plus, he was under contract for a series of travel guides with an international publisher. He continued to receive steady royalties from his photos that had been used in travel brochures, advertisements and campaigns, as well as other well-known publications, and his savings account was healthy thanks to the years he’d spent traveling, when the largest expenses he’d incurred had been camera equipment and accessories.

  But the question remained—what did he do now? If he stayed in Findlay Roads, he couldn’t continue living at the inn. The inn had never quite been home to him, and now, with Erin...

  He didn’t know if he could bear to see her, day in and day out, living some sort of detached existence together. Especially not after last night’s kiss.

  He forcefully steered his thoughts away from that encounter. Kissing Erin had been the single best experience of his life, not once but now twice. If he dwelt too long on it, knowing how she felt about him, he’d sink into depression.

  He paused to take a few photographs, losing himself in capturing several frames. By the time he’d finished and begun walking once more, he felt at least slightly re-centered.

  The most looming question he faced right now was whether he should even stay in Findlay Roads.

  He’d returned a year and a half ago because he’d been worried about Erin and Kitt. And because he’d never come back to say goodbye to Gavin. He hadn’t been sure how long he’d stay in town, but after he met Tessa and they began dating, it seemed like maybe this was where he was meant to be after all.

  Now, though, he wasn’t so sure. He’d been rejected, not just by one woman but two. And while he was grateful to Tessa for having the courage to break things off, he was sad about Erin. And what did this say about him? Maybe he shouldn’t be here. This town represented too much heartbreak and disappointment for him.

  But even if Erin didn’t want him around, what about Kitt? Could he really just abandon his nephew, especially after he’d managed to draw Kitt out a little more? He wasn’t sure he could. If not for Kitt, then for himself. He’d grown attached to the kid, and he couldn’t imagine not getting to see him every day.

  But seeing Kitt would mean seeing Erin, and he wasn’t sure if his wounded heart could take that on a daily basis. Then again, he’d managed to convince himself for fifteen years that he was no longer in love with her. Was there a chance he could bury those feelings again?

  He didn’t think so. He was older now, more sure of what he wanted. And what he wanted was Erin. Now that Gavin was gone...was it so wrong to admit how he felt about her?

  He reached Fallon Point and stopped to take a few breaths. He wished he had thought to bring along some water. It had been quite the hike from the Moontide to here. But it was worth it. The view was magnificent. It overlooked the entire harbor and town, including the lighthouse.

  He began taking photos as he wandered the area until he ended up heading down a lane with a For Sale sign. When he reached the end of the drive, he came upon a cute, though slightly rundown, Cape Cod house with a wraparound porch. He took a few photographs of the building since it had a quaint, charming feel to it.

  After a few clicks, he lowered his camera. The house really was a hidden jewel. It was slightly out of the way, given the overgrown lane behind him, and it needed some work. But it overlooked one of the best views he’d ever seen in Findlay Roads.

  He walked around the side of the house. Clearly, it had been uninhabited for some time. It wasn’t in severe shape, but it was definitely in need of a little TLC. The longer he looked at it, the more he felt drawn to it. Without meaning to, the thought entered his mind—Erin would love this place.

  She could even look out over the lighthouse. If things had worked out differently, maybe the two of them could have shared a life in a house like this one. The reminder of Erin’s rejection struck him anew.

  He turned and started back down the lane, leaving the charming little house behind him.

  When would he ever learn to stop hoping for things that were not meant to be?

  * * *

  THOUGH SHE TOLD herself it wasn’t because of Burke, Erin couldn’t stop herself from looking outside every ten minutes. He’d left the inn, camera in hand, shortly after their exchange, and he’d been gone for almost three hours now. Where was he? The thought of him just up and leaving left her with a strange sort of dread.

  Of course, he’d be
coming back. Though he didn’t have a lot in the way of possessions, his luggage and clothes were still here. Most of his stuff remained at Tessa’s, as far as Erin knew, but he wouldn’t just leave without saying goodbye.

  Would he?

  Maybe to her. She deserved to be snubbed after rejecting him. But Burke would never just up and leave without saying goodbye to Aunt Lenora and Kitt. Erin was sure of it.

  So even though she pretended she was just checking the weather, she consistently stepped to the window to see if she could catch Burke returning. Aunt Lenora and Kitt came home from the library, and Erin fixed lunch for the three of them...and still, Burke didn’t come back.

  Aunt Lenora asked after him, and Erin replied that he’d gone out with his camera. If the older woman had any questions about this, she kept them to herself, much to Erin’s relief. After lunch, Kitt asked if he could play outside. Aunt Lenora offered to keep an eye on him from the back porch, so Erin agreed.

  Another painstaking half hour passed with no sign of Burke. Erin was moving from room to room, tidying up because it gave her better access to peer out the windows, when she heard Aunt Lenora calling her name. Erin was on the first floor, dusting shelves in the library, when she heard it.

  Puzzled, she set aside her polish and dust rag and moved toward the window to see what the other woman needed. She had a limited view of the backyard and couldn’t see the porch where Aunt Lenora was seated. She heard her name called again, and something in Aunt Lenora’s tone elicited a sense of urgency.

  She moved swiftly toward the doors that led to the veranda and opened them to find Aunt Lenora partway down the steps toward the lawn, her gaze focused on something several yards away.

  Erin followed her gaze and felt her heart catch in her chest. Kitt stood in the yard, several steps away from the gazebo, and faced a large, scruffy-looking dog.

  “Kitt!”

  But her son ignored her, his attention focused solely on the animal. Erin moved across the porch and past Aunt Lenora down the steps, heading toward Kitt automatically. The dog saw her coming and reacted with a low, warning growl.

  Erin stopped, her heart hammering in her chest.

  “Kitt, come here,” she pleaded.

  “It’s okay, Mom,” he replied. “He’s hurt.”

  Erin didn’t bother looking for any wounds on the dog. All she wanted was for Kitt to be safe in her arms.

  “Kitt,” Aunt Lenora spoke from behind her, “go to your mother.”

  She knew Aunt Lenora was thinking the same thoughts as her. A little over a year ago, a stray dog had attacked a child in the town nearest Findlay Roads. The boy had been a few years older than Kitt, and he’d required several surgeries to correct the damage the dog’s bites had inflicted. Erin shuddered at the memory, remembering how she’d ached for the boy’s mother, thinking how traumatized she’d have been if that had happened to Kitt. And now, a similar nightmare faced her.

  She tried to calm herself and look at the situation logically. Even if Kitt came to her, there was a chance the dog would lunge at him before he made it to her side. She tried taking another step forward, but the dog shifted his eyes in her direction. She froze, even though the dog didn’t react.

  Where had he come from? His coat was shabby, a tangle of fur and thorns. She could see what Kitt meant about it him being hurt. He held his front left leg up off the ground, balancing his weight on his other three limbs. She couldn’t be sure, but it looked as though there was blood matted into his fur, though it could be mud. Even if the dog was injured, didn’t that just make it more of a threat?

  “Aunt Lenora,” she spoke without turning. “Call animal control.”

  Before she could turn to see if Aunt Lenora was doing as she asked, Kitt took a step toward the dog. Erin’s breath caught, and her stomach dropped.

  “Kitt! Don’t!”

  CHAPTER TEN

  BURKE’S HAND WAS on the front door of the inn, preparing to head inside, when he heard Erin yell out Kitt’s name. He moved into action immediately, leaping over the porch railing and running around the side of the house toward the backyard.

  He raced onto the scene in time to see Erin grabbing Kitt from behind, tugging him toward her and away from the mangy animal he recognized as the perceived threat. It took him a matter of seconds to make it to their side, placing himself between Kitt and Erin and the dog. The animal backed up with a snarl and tensed, as though ready to spring.

  “Take Kitt inside,” Burke commanded and was surprised to hear his nephew protest.

  “No! He’s hurt!”

  “Kitt, come on,” Erin entreated.

  Kitt must have been struggling against his mom, but Burke didn’t take the time to turn and look at them. He kept his eyes on the dog, assessing, and realized Kitt was right.

  “Aunt Lenora! Did you call animal control?” Erin asked. From the range of her voice, Burke realized she’d managed to pull Kitt a couple of yards back.

  He spared a glance behind him and saw that Aunt Lenora was still on the porch steps, her hand grasping the railing for support. As he suspected, Erin was closer to the porch now than to him and the dog.

  “Wait,” he called over his shoulder. “Hold off on that, Aunt Lenora.”

  “What do you mean, ‘wait’?” Erin said. “He could be rabid for all we know!”

  “I don’t think so. I think he’s frightened.”

  “That makes two of us,” she retorted.

  Burke kept his movements slow and deliberate as he moved toward the wounded dog. He couldn’t quite tell how badly the animal was hurt. His fur was matted with mud...maybe blood, too...and he suspected that leg might be broken from the way he avoided putting weight on it.

  “Hey there, buddy...”

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Having a look. I want to see how badly he’s hurt.”

  “Burke—” She stopped, and when she spoke again, her voice was softer. “Please be careful.”

  Her tone pained him. It sounded almost as if she cared what happened to him. Well, maybe she did. She didn’t have to be in love with him to worry about his well-being.

  He gave a short nod to acknowledge that he’d heard her and then approached the dog. The animal growled again, softer this time, and tried to take a step back. He nearly stumbled and then righted himself, trotting awkwardly a couple feet away. Burke looked for some form of identification, but he didn’t see a collar. He wondered what had happened, whether the dog had been hit by a car and how long he’d been wandering around like this.

  Burke crouched down, trying to appear as harmless as possible.

  “What happened, huh? Looks like you got yourself into some trouble. You on your own?”

  The dog didn’t come any closer, but at the sound of Burke’s friendly tone, his tail gave a couple of swishes.

  “When was the last time you ate, fella? You hungry?”

  The dog whined and took two small steps in Burke’s direction. Burke considered this positive progress, but he heard Erin’s gasp even from a distance.

  “Burke,” she hissed loudly. “Let’s just call animal control.”

  Burke raised a hand to hold her off. The dog limped around in a circle and whimpered.

  “She’s right, you know,” he said. “Calling animal control would probably be the best thing.”

  The dog looked forlornly at Burke, silently begging.

  “But if no one claims you, in the end, they’re likely to put you down.” He sighed. “I’d hate to see that happen. But you’re not really helping me out here.” He gestured behind him, keeping his voice low and gentle. “See that lady there? Her name’s Erin. And she’s a pretty kindhearted soul but not when there’s a risk to her son. That’s him there. His name’s Kitt.”

  The dog looked over Burke’s shoulder and then back at him. It wa
s uncanny, but the way the dog stared at him so intently, Burke could almost believe he understood.

  “So, here’s the thing. If you think you can win Erin over, we could maybe take you inside and get you fed. But if you’re going to play it all shy-like, we’ll have to get animal control out here to claim you.”

  Burke stayed kneeling, eyes focused on the dog. Beneath the layers of mud and tangled fur, he had a feeling the animal was a credit to his breed. Chesapeake Bay retriever, if Burke had to make a guess. Or maybe just a golden retriever, once all the dirt was washed off of him.

  Burke held out a hand, expecting the dog to bolt, but to his surprise, the retriever hobbled one step closer to him.

  “Don’t let him get away, Uncle Burke!” Kitt cried.

  The retriever heard the command and gave a soft, gentle woof in response.

  “That’s my nephew, Kitt. He’s a good kid. I bet you’d like him.” Burke still had his arm extended. “What do you say? How about you let me take a look at that leg?”

  The dog huffed, as if in acceptance, and then took a few stumbling steps toward him, nudging Burke’s finger with his nose.

  “Well, hey there.” Burke ran his palm over the retriever’s head and scratched behind his ears. He moved slowly, bringing his other hand around to feel for a collar buried in the fur or some other form of identification. But there was nothing. The dog’s tail wagged furiously, but he had to occasionally do a little skip to keep himself balanced on only three legs.

  Erin called out, “Burke Daniels, don’t you even think about it. We are not taking that dog inside.”

  “Of course not,” Burke agreed and then looked over his shoulder at her. Her back posture was rigid with determination, her jaw tight. She was beautiful when she was irritated.

  The unbidden thought caused him to look back down.

  “I’m taking him to the animal clinic on Highland Avenue.”