Chapter 2
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
TILLY
I hesitate at the door, my knuckles raised and frozen.
It’s been . . . a while since I’ve been here.
The house is the same as it was the day I left.
Other than a few safety improvements, nothing has changed.
It’s still painted a dull yellow that makes the single storey look older than it is, and the front window has the crack in the upper left corner from when an eight-year-old Ash threw a baseball at it.
The garden is the most updated part of the property, but then again, my mom’s been nursing plants for as long as I can remember. It wouldn’t surprise me if she got even more into it after I left and wasn’t here for her to baby anymore.
Dad’s truck is behind me, so I know someone’s home.
Maybe I had a feeling Mom would be at the camp office at this time and chose when to come accordingly.
At least with my dad, it will be easier to leave once I let him know I’m here.
I don’t trust that Mom wouldn’t lock me in my old bedroom and swallow the key so I couldn’t leave again.
Glancing over my shoulder at the near-empty gravel drive, I blow out a breath and knock.
Silence follows for long enough that I contemplate trying my old key. I’m reaching into my purse when I hear heavy footsteps inside, coming closer.
The door swings open, and I sink my teeth into the inside of my cheek.
Standing at well over six three, my father stares at me like he’s looking into the eyes of a ghost. The surprise in his normally controlled features is blinding, and fuck—it hurts.
Guilt sours my stomach as I try to smile and wiggle my fingers.
“Hi, Dad.”
He blinks once, twice, three times before coughing briefly. “Tilly?”
“Yep.”
“You’re home.”
I laugh, glancing down at my suitcase. The heavy bag looped over the extended handle seems to sag a bit under my attention, reminding me that I’ve packed my entire life away inside of it. Ten years of memories shoved inside of it like they never meant all that much to me.
“Can I come in?” I ask.
Dad follows my gaze, his shoulders rising just enough to give away his anxiousness. “Yeah. ’Course you can. You don’t need to ask.”
When he steps aside, I head inside, my suitcase in tow.
He clears his throat again and takes the handle from me, hauling it through the doorway with ease, as if it doesn’t weigh a million pounds.
I shut the door behind us and eye the house, taking in the familiar sight of it.
God, it even smells the same, like clean laundry and the smokiness of a campfire.
“Am I bringing this to your room?” He stares down the hall, to where my childhood bedroom waits across from his and Mom’s and beside my twin’s. “Or are you just stopping by?”
I tighten my ponytail, fidgeting. “No, you can bring it there.”
“Alright.”
He leaves without another word. I follow the soft roll of my suitcase along the slightly lifted laminate floor and do my best to avoid staring at the photos hung on the walls. Knowing my parents, they haven’t changed them out in the history of ever, let alone the last decade.
The door to my room is closed, and Dad grips the handle, hesitating for a beat.
I stop behind him and ignore the twist in my chest before he pushes it and stomps inside.
It takes everything in me not to give in to the sudden urge to dive into my bed and hide beneath the blankets for the next few weeks.
They’ve kept it made, the bedspread still zebra striped. It’s like being tossed in a time machine and dumped back out in the past. The fringe pillows are bright green and almost painful to stare at, and Christ, the lampshades on the nightstands match.
Twenty-three feels like a lifetime ago. The girl I was then has long since died, and now, I’m left with the version I rebuilt in the furthest place from here that I could find.
“How long are you here for?” Dad asks, his voice rough.
“I don’t know. A while, I think.”
A weighted pause. “You’re not wearing your ring.”
“I’m not married anymore.”
“Come here,” he orders gruffly.
I spin around and go right into his open arms. The emotions I’ve been squashing deep in my mind come flaring back with a heat that singes my inside. I suck in a sharp breath when my eyes burn, tears blurring my vision before I close them altogether.
My dad hugs me tight, keeping me squashed against his chest as I struggle, refusing to cry.
Even here, where nobody but him can see me, I won’t do it.
Not because it isn’t killing me, but because Ethan doesn’t deserve any more of my tears.
It’s been six months since we signed all of the paperwork, and God knows I’ve cried more than enough times since then.
I’m not going to taint this place with the pain he caused me.
Pressing my cheek against my dad’s soft T-shirt, I inhale and try to steady myself. “I’m okay.”
“You don’t need to be right now.”
“He doesn’t matter to me here. Not in this place.”
With an almost angry sniff, I pull away and meet Dad’s waiting eyes. They’re cautious, but I ignore that, not wanting to encourage his worry.
“When did it happen?” he asks then, seeming to understand.
“Officially, we divorced a few days ago. We’ve been separated for a while now.”
“Have you been back long?”
“I only landed in Alberta this morning.”
Moving to the wide window on the far side of my bed, I stare into the backyard. The mountains are there, towering over the cluster of trees. Only a small portion of the lake is visible from the house, but it’s still there, taunting me with memories of sand in my swimsuit and boating wipeouts.
“Your mom is at the office. She’d love to see you.”
“Where’s Ash? He wasn’t answering his phone earlier,” I ask instead of responding to his info drop.
It’s been years since I’ve seen my twin brother in person, though not for lack of trying on his part. He’d have come visit for weeks at a time if I’d let him. I didn’t, and I wear the guilt for that just as heavily as I wear the rest of it.
“Check the community centre.”
Turning from the window, I swallow my pride and meet Dad’s waiting gaze. “Are you hiring?”
“At the campground?”
“Yeah.”
“We just finished with the summer hiring. It’s always done in May, Tilly.”
I tap the windowsill, biting back a frustrated curse. “Yeah, I remember.”
“You don’t have to pay to stay here, sweetheart. This is your home.”
“It’s not that. My savings are completely tapped after the lawyer fees, and I can’t sit here and do nothing. I don’t even have a car anymore.”
“Use my truck when you need to go somewhere.”
“I’m not twenty anymore, Dad. I don’t want to have to borrow all of your things.” With a groan, I tighten my ponytail again and glance around my room. “What about Maggie’s? Is she hiring?”
“You’d have to ask, but I doubt it. With school out, she probably hired the same way we did.”
“Great.”
“You could try Cherry Peak,” he suggests.
I try and smile, but I know it looks more like a wince than anything else. “I will.”
“It’s good to have you home, Tilly.”
“Yeah, it’s nice to be here.”
For now, I’m sure. Because after all, there’s a reason I left in the first place.
My twin brother has always been addicted to nature.
We’re similar in that way, but where he chose to ride dirt bikes and quads in the bush, I chose to saddle horses and ride through the fields of Painted Sky. The Carrigan family horse ranch was where I spent most of my life. Between Painted Sky and my family’s campground, we were hardly ever inside.
It’s why I’m not surprised when I find him behind the Oak Point community centre with his head beneath a rusted old dirt bike, tweaking something with a wrench.
“What, your phone doesn’t work now?”
The wrench falls onto his chin, and he spits a wicked curse before lurching out from beneath the bike. His hand grips his chin while he whips his head to stare at me, eyes wide.
“Tilly?”
“In the flesh.”
He drops his hand and uses both of them to push himself off the ground. I eye the red mark on his chin and grin. His pace is quick as he crosses the grass to me.
“When did you get back? Shit, you look the same,” he says before yanking me into his chest and squeezing me tight. “Have you been eating?”
I hug him back, lingering longer than I did with Dad. “Is that your way of asking if I’ve lost weight?”
“No. It’s concern for the fact I can feel your spine.”
To emphasize his point, he digs his finger into my back and then pulls back, wearing a scowl. I shove his chest and roll my eyes.
“I’m fine. It’s been a rough few months, is all.”
His eyes narrow as they run over me from head to toe. It’s dramatic, but I let him do it, knowing I’ve been gone long enough for him to be doubtful. I almost wish I’d worn winter gloves despite the hot June sun when he stares at my bare finger.
“Finally,” he says.
“Finally? Really?”
He jostles a shoulder, finished with his examination. “When did it happen?”
“You know, you make it sound like I was just incapable of being married.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. I should have asked what he did instead. I’m assuming something pretty bad, considering you came back.” He pauses, rolling his lips. “Is he alive?”
My laugh comes tearing up my throat. “I didn’t kill him, Ash. Just beat him up a little.”
“So, he did do something, then. What was it?”
“Can we at least go inside and sit down first or something? You could buy me lunch, even. Welcome me home with a nice meal, considering I was just in a plane for ages.”
Ash reaches for a discarded baseball cap on the ground and slaps it on, squishing his messy blond hair. The dirt and dust on it fly off at the movement, and I bite back another laugh.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” he asks, not letting it go yet.
I sigh, shaking my head. “No. Not physically.”
His exhale comes out hard and fast. “Alright. Then yeah, we can get lunch.”
“I’ve got Dad’s truck, so I’ll drive.”
“You’ve already been home?”
“I figured I’d rip that Band-Aid off before doing anything else.”
Ash makes no move to put the bike away, so we leave it and walk around the community centre.
It’s not like anyone is going to steal it, even if it wasn’t so obviously broken.
Oak Point’s population isn’t even big enough to go on the town sign.
I doubt there’s even anyone who would volunteer to count the number, anyway.
“You saw Mom, then?”
I hesitate long enough to give him his answer.
“Of course you didn’t. You’re not going to be able to avoid her, Tilly. Dad’s probably already told her that you’re back,” he says.
“Yeah, well. She’s going to cry. It was already awkward enough with just Dad.”
I unlock the truck doors and leave Ash by the passenger side. He pulls it open and waits for me to get to the opposite side.
“You’ll have to suck it up and deal with it,” he tells me once I join him and start the engine.
Leaving the community centre, I pull onto the main road. “I know that. Trust me, Ash, I fucking know what I need to deal with being back here.”
“Alright.”
I feel his eyes on my cheek and swallow, knowing exactly what he sees. We may have been apart for a decade, but he’s my twin. There isn’t anyone on this earth who knows me as well as he does. I always hated it growing up, and I think I still do.
Maybe now more than ever.
“He’s home, you know?”
My grip on the steering wheel turns painful as I stiffen. “I figured.”
“His sentence ended two years ago.”
“I know how to count, Ash.”
“He’s been riding again. Now that his parole’s finished, he can compete—”
“I don’t want to talk about him,” I snap, the tips of my ears burning.
The sudden silence that fills the truck is painful. It’s almost worse than having information about Rowe Carrigan shoved down my throat.
“If you’re going to be here, you aren’t going to be able to hide from what you left behind, Tilly.”
An hour.
That’s how long it took for me to regret coming back.