The Way Back To Erin. Cerella Sechrist
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some syrup before returning to the stove.
“Kitt, after breakfast, it’s time for chores.”
Her son didn’t respond, nor had she expected him to. Kitt didn’t make a fuss about things like most kids. If she told him to pick up his toys, he immediately obliged. If she said he had to eat all his vegetables, he nearly licked the plate clean. While many mothers might brag about such deferential obedience, Erin found it concerning. What kind of kid didn’t balk, at least occasionally, about setting the table, putting away their clothes or brushing their teeth?
She glanced over her shoulder and caught Kitt watching Burke intently as his uncle made short work of his pancake stack. She frowned as her son practiced holding his fork the same way Burke did, his index finger spread along the length of the utensil’s spine. He tried cutting into his pancake in an imitation of Burke and then shoveled a too-large bite into his mouth.
“Slow down, Kitt. There’s plenty more here.”
Kitt didn’t acknowledge her, but he chewed his food with concentration. Burke cleared his throat, as if the admonishment had been directed at him.
“Sorry, I just forgot how good your pancakes are.”
Erin turned back to the stove. “They used to be your favorite.” She spoke the words before she thought better of them. Burke was quiet for a beat too long.
“Gavin’s, too,” he finally said.
Erin didn’t respond. After another minute, she scooped two more pancakes onto her spatula and moved to slide them onto Burke’s plate.
“Thanks,” he murmured as he reached for the syrup.
The kitchen was silent for another few minutes as Erin scraped the last of the batter from the bowl and flipped the final pancakes on the griddle. When she was finished, she joined the guys at the table. Burke was already halfway through his second stack of pancakes as she began her first.
“So...” She kept her gaze lowered as she carefully drizzled a stream of golden syrup across her plate. “How are you feeling this morning? About...everything?”
He didn’t speak a word, and Erin soon grew uncomfortable with the quiet. She looked up and found him staring off into the distance. His mouth was quirked downward, but he didn’t appear...heartbroken. Not like she thought he would.
“I don’t know. It’s a lot to process, I guess.” His gaze fell to Kitt. She slid a glance toward her son, following Burke’s eyes. “I guess if Tessa didn’t want to spend the rest of her life with me, it was better to find out now rather than later.”
Erin slipped a bite of pancake into her mouth as she contemplated this outlook. The buttery flavor of fluffy dough and blueberries melted on her tongue.
“It might have been more convenient if she’d decided that just a little sooner,” Erin said. But she didn’t really intend any malice in the words. She didn’t imagine Tessa Worth had a single selfish bone in her body. The younger woman was one of the nicest people she’d ever known.
Erin had found it hard to be jealous of Tessa’s engagement to Burke, when they both seemed so suited to each other. After all, Tessa had done what no woman before had been able to since high school—she’d anchored Burke to one location for more than six months at a time. That in itself had proved to Erin that Burke must really love Tessa.
As a traveling photojournalist, Burke had lived in dozens of places over the years, including a few exotic destinations, as he built up a successful career. He’d been published in some of the world’s bestselling publications. But he’d taken a small hiatus from his career once he moved back to town and became engaged to Tessa.
So she couldn’t quite be jealous, except for deep down, where she felt the sting of resentment. Tessa had managed to keep Burke in Findlay Roads. So why would the other woman abandon the possibility of becoming his wife? Erin found it hard to understand.
She shook her head slightly, trying to shake these thoughts from her mind.
“What will you do now?” Erin asked, both anticipating and dreading the answer.
Burke paused, fork halfway to his mouth, and stared at her. She could see the question bothered him. Perhaps he hadn’t given any thought to what came next.
“I—” he started, then stopped. Kitt looked up from his plate and focused on his uncle.
“I don’t know,” Burke admitted. “I guess...maybe I should try to talk to Tess?”
Erin frowned, uncertain about this proposed course of action. “You could try...but what if she doesn’t want to talk to you?” She was ashamed the moment the words left her month. Not so much because of how they might be received but because she spoke them for selfish reasons. She didn’t want Burke to speak with Tessa. And she felt horrible for experiencing a certain sort of gladness at the split in their relationship. She spoke again, trying to repair the suggestion. “Or, I don’t know, maybe you should give her some time?”
Burke didn’t respond. Erin poked at her pancakes, her appetite lost. There was a greater issue at hand here. Erin had invited Burke to spend the night at the B&B, at Aunt Lenora’s urging. But she had assumed it would be only that—one night. It wasn’t until the light of day that she remembered—Burke had sold the boat he’d kept berthed at the marina. That’s where he’d been living for the last year and a half since he’d returned to Findlay Roads. The plan had been for him to move in with Tessa after the wedding, so he’d sold the boat last week and had spent the last two days before the wedding staying in a hotel suite at the Delphine. But where did he plan to live now?
As if her son had read her mind, Kitt spoke up with a suggestion. “You could stay here.”
Erin raised her head sharply. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Burke did the same. She wasn’t sure which stunned her more—Kitt’s suggestion or the fact that he’d spoken at all. He kept so much to himself that Erin had grown used to his silence. The sound of his voice often startled her. It was changing, losing some of its baby lisp and becoming more enunciated. But the fact that Kitt might want Burke to keep staying at the inn was the most shocking thing of all.
“Kitt, I’m not sure—” Erin began and was quickly silenced by Aunt Lenora’s imposing voice.
“Of course he’s staying here.”
For the second time in the last sixty seconds, Erin and Burke’s heads swiveled in unison. Aunt Lenora stood in the doorway, a worn terrycloth robe wrapped around her thin frame.
“This is his home.”
It had been, long ago. But Erin had to bite her tongue to keep from pointing out how few were the times that Burke had actually stepped through the inn’s doors in the years since he’d left.
“Aunt Lenora, I can’t stay,” Burke said.
Erin’s shoulders sagged in relief, grateful that Burke knew this was no longer his home.
Aunt Lenora waved a hand in dismissal. “Of course you can. So you’ve been jilted. That’s no reason to tuck your tail between your legs and run.”
The old woman shuffled toward the table. Erin noted that Kitt was grinning and her jaw nearly dropped. Kitt’s grins were even rarer than the sound of his voice. Overcoming her shock at her son’s expression, she looked to Burke, waiting for him to shoot down Aunt Lenora’s idea. To her consternation, he seemed to be considering.
“But where would he stay?” Erin asked.
Aunt Lenora began stacking pancakes on a plate. “In the Galway Room, where else? It’s his old bedroom, after all.”
“But what if you need that room for a booking?”
Aunt Lenora took a seat at the table, her movements slow and deliberate. She arched one gray eyebrow at Erin.
Erin dropped her head from the piercing gaze. Even without using