“I know what our plan is. But…I like it here. I fit in here.”
“You burned bridges here, Easton.”
“Chief Hale? No…I think…I mean, I don’t think he carries a grudge.” He looked away as if considering something he wasn’t saying.
Fear licked at my heart like the flames that had decimated our building, our life. I swallowed. Picturing a future with Travis was one thing. Knowing he might want one with me too, if that wanting could be trusted, was another. But staying to find out? Well…that would take a certain measure of courage I just didn’t have nor could I afford to gather.
“No. We have to keep moving.”
“What happens if you stop, Haven?”
My gaze snapped to his. “What?”
“What happens when you stop moving?”
My breath came short, heart picking up speed.
Easton stood, walking to the bed where he sat on the edge next to me. “Haven, what happens?”
“It catches up to me!” I blurted. “It all catches up.” And then I’d have to start over, risk again, care again. No more excuses. No more temporary.
I wasn’t ready. Was I?
He laid his hand over mine. “It’s time to stop, Haven. You have to stop running. You’re dragging me with you, and I don’t want it anymore.”
My head swiveled his way, a ball of despair dropping inside me. “Oh, Easton,” I breathed, my face collapsing as a sob moved up my throat. I put my hands over my face. “I’m trying to protect you too!”
Easton reached over and gently removed my hands. “But you don’t have to. You already did. A thousand times over.” He turned more fully toward me, shifting closer. “Listen, I’ve been guilty too. I acted in ways that ensured I couldn’t stay anywhere even if I’d wanted to. I burned bridges so it wouldn’t hurt to leave.”
I let out a shuddery breath. “You didn’t want to come on this road trip, did you?”
He shook his head slowly. “No, but I knew you needed it and I wasn’t going to let you go it alone.” He gave me a small, weary smile. “I admit, I didn’t think we’d still be on the road two years later.” He paused, tilting his head as the smile dropped. “You sacrificed for me all your life, sis. And it was my turn. But we’ve been on the road long enough now. Let’s stay, Haven. For once, let’s stay. I like working at the firehouse. I think I might have a future there. I can see it. Can you? Let’s stay,” he repeated softly. “Even if it means facing the past.”
“I hated her, Easton.” It burst from my mouth like a grenade that had been detonated two years before and only now exploded. “I hated her,” I said, my voice choked with tears. “I kept waiting for her to be more, to do better, for us, and she never would.”
“I know,” he said. “I know, Haven. But you loved her too, and that’s the worst part. It’s time for us both to let it go now though. We have to try.”
I nodded miserably. I had loved her. Deeply. And though she couldn’t care for me, I’d tried to care for her. And it’d never mattered.
Sometimes I wondered if I had a form of PTSD.
Maybe from the fire. From seeing our mother dead—the reality of a lifetime of fearing just that.
Maybe just from our life.
The incessant struggle, the hurt, the never-ending trying that didn’t seem to amount to much. Maybe I’d thought if I could have just saved her, it all would have been worthwhile. But I couldn’t. Perhaps nobody could have. And I had to start accepting that and letting myself off the hook if I was ever going to be truly happy. If I was ever going to stop running.
“I’m afraid,” I admitted. “Anyone I hoped would love me left. Eventually, they always did.”
So how did I start trusting now?
Maybe by believing in myself.
By trusting a man I believed might be trustworthy.
Easton reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing. “I’m not leaving,” he said. “You’re stuck with me for life.”
And then my little brother opened his arms and I fell forward, face-planting into his chest and grasping the fabric of his shirt in my fist, holding on to what felt solid. Easton held me as I cried, releasing some of the long-held pain and the deeply lodged fear.
Finally.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Haven
A buzz of voices welcomed us as we pulled the door to the town hall open. A few heads turned, some smiled, some looked mildly curious as they sipped from Styrofoam cups. I took a deep breath of the air redolent with coffee and baked goods, running my hands over my thighs. “Come on,” Easton said, leading me toward the table where three large silver urns sat beside platters of cookies and baked goods.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked under my breath.
Easton picked up a donut, taking a big, sugary bite and not bothering to chew or swallow before answering, “Yesh.” He paused, gulped. “The Pelion firehouse guys will all be here. There’s the captain right over there,” he said, lifting his chin and giving a small wave to the stern-looking man near the stage. The man gave a head nod in acknowledgment. “Might as well jump right in if we’re going to join this community.”
Easton moved from one foot to the other. His tell. He was nervous. He’d never admit it but he wanted to be accepted. He’d always been the odd man out, the kid who couldn’t invite others over.
The one whose mother never showed.
The one who’d waited anyway.
He deserved this. To make friends. To be accepted.
I was doing this for him. But I was also doing this for me. My nerves felt frayed, heart quickening with both excitement—hope—and trepidation. It had been two long years, and I was about to take my first big risk.
You can do this. It’s time.
I helped myself to a cup of coffee, sipping tentatively at the scalding liquid. All the seats were taken, but Easton and I stood against the back wall, watching as the community members chatted and laughed, enjoying each other.
You can be part of this. That hope soared in my chest again, and yes, fear accompanied it, but wouldn’t that always be the case? Easton was right. I couldn’t wait for the doubt to disappear entirely because that might never happen. I had to make the choice to embrace it and lean in to what I wanted despite the worry.
I deserved to have dreams.
And how would they ever come true if I wasn’t willing to stop, face my past, and then move on, unencumbered, into my future?
And I wouldn’t be doing it alone.
My heart gave a jolt and then soared as Travis came into view, standing near the low stage, taking a stack of papers from a younger man who was also wearing a police uniform. Travis took a portion of the stack of papers off the top and handed them to a short, slender woman with a brunette bob who began handing them to the people at the end of each row to pass down to the others.
For several minutes I simply watched him in his element, listening as people passed by and said a word or two, laughing along with them, squeezing one man’s shoulder and patting him on the back as he gave Travis a grateful look and walked away.
Give us a chance, Haven.
Yes. Yes.
The man next to him—the young cop with the buzz cut—elbowed Travis and leaned in, speaking in a hurried manner. Travis froze, frowning, glancing down at the papers in his hand for several seconds, squinting, holding it away slightly, and then blinking in what looked like confusion, before his head shot up and he met my eyes. The young cop was staring at me too and even from the distance, I saw his throat move in a swallow.