Chapter Four
T he town sign came up out of the dark like it had been waiting for him.
ROBINSON.
Tanner kept his hand on Savannah’s back as the bus slowed.
She’d been sleeping against him for most of the ride, with her rabbit tucked under her chin.
He hadn’t slept and hadn’t stopped paying attention.
That didn’t mean the motion of the bus or the warmth didn’t make him drowsy, but he’d stayed awake.
The bus hissed to a halt at the small stop near the diner. Tanner got up first, then pulled the bags down and shifted Savannah higher on his hip. Getting off the bus, the night air hit his face, cold enough to sting after the warmth inside, and enough to bring him fully awake.
The diner sign was lit, but everything else was quiet.
There was no traffic or voices. He stood for a second and looked up and down the street.
Robinson hadn’t changed since he’d been gone.
It was the same low buildings and the same stretch of sidewalk that always looked too wide for the amount of people it saw. Even the smell seemed the same.
Savannah shifted and made a small sound, causing Tanner to tighten his grip. “Almost there,” he murmured, even though she wasn’t awake enough to understand.
Tanner started walking along the sidewalk.
He kept to the side roads, and away from the main street, not because he thought someone would be waiting, but because old habits didn’t die, even here.
The bags cut into his fingers, and he swapped hands twice, but still couldn’t get comfortable.
Savannah’s weight pulled on his shoulder, and his back ached from sitting awkwardly on the bus and from all the tension he’d been carrying for what felt like years. Maybe it had been years.
As he got closer, he slowed. The house came into view at the end of the street.
A dark shape against darker trees with the porch light off.
It was strange to notice that. Of course it would be off if the house was empty.
The windows were black and it looked empty and unlived in.
There was no glow, and no signs of life.
Tanner stopped at the edge of the overgrown yard, and for a minute, he just stood and stared.
He remembered his dad on that porch, fixing the step that had always been loose.
His mom’s voice calling from inside, telling him not to track mud inside.
The sound of the screen door slamming too hard because he’d never learned to close it gently.
He hadn’t let himself think about this part. He’d thought about safety for Savannah. He hadn’t thought about standing in front of the place where everything had ended. With Savannah’s cheek pressed to his neck, Tanner exhaled and walked up the path.
The porch boards creaked under his boots when he stepped on them. He shifted Savannah again, put the bags down, and pulled the key ring out of his pocket. His fingers were stiff from the cold and from holding the bags, and he struggled with it and Savannah.
Pushing the key into the lock, Tanner took a deep breath then turned it. He opened the door and stepped inside, dragging the bags with him and nudging the door shut with his foot.
The house smelled like dust and old wood. It wasn’t rotten. It wasn’t damp the way the apartment had been. It just smelled unused, and maybe stale, too. Like the air had been sitting for far too long.
Tanner stood in the entryway, just breathing, and letting his eyes adjust. The shapes of furniture came back to him in the dark as his eyes moved around the room. A coat rack by the door and the narrow table his mom used to put mail on.
He reached for the light switch, and nothing happened. He tried it again, and there was still nothing. “Of course,” he muttered.
Moving carefully through the house, Tanner took one step at a time, feeling his way with his free hand. The layout was in his bones. He could walk it blind when he was a kid and he knew he would remember again.
He found the kitchen and the back door. He found the drawer where his dad used to keep a small flashlight, opening it and finding it was still there. He clicked it on and aimed it at the counter. A thin layer of dust lay over it, and as he looked around he noticed dust covering more items.
Tanner swallowed and forced himself to focus on the next thing. Savannah. He carried her up the stairs toward the bedroom that had been his. The door stuck when he tried to open it, so he put his shoulder against it and gave it a gentle shove, hearing it give with a soft scrape.
His room was exactly how he’d left it, and Tanner sucked in a breath as memories threatened to overwhelm him. The bed frame was still there. The dresser. The old desk with the chipped corner. A poster he’d never taken down, that now curled at the edges. Dust covered everything.
He gently placed Savannah on the bed and pulled the blanket back. The sheets felt cold and dry and he decided not to think about how long they’d been there. Once they were settled, Tanner would wash everything.
Savannah curled onto her side without fully waking, her rabbit tucked tight to her chest. Tanner pulled the blanket over her and watched her face for a second, checking her breathing, and checking the way her mouth softened when she settled. When she had, he left the bedroom.
Grabbing the bags, Tanner went back to the bedroom.
He put the bags by the dresser and opened the one with Savannah’s things.
He pulled out her pajamas, changed her quickly with the flashlight tucked under his arm, and didn’t let himself linger on how normal it felt.
How he’d been doing this alone for years.
Once she was dressed, he put her back under the blanket and sat on the edge of the bed and held his hands out, noticing how they shook now that he was no longer moving. Or maybe they had been shaking before and he hadn’t noticed because he’d been focused on keeping Savannah safe and coming home.
Swallowing hard, Tanner clenched them, then forced them open again. He stood and went to the window and peered out into the darkness. After a minute or so, Tanner turned back toward the bed and looked at Savannah. “Okay,” he whispered. “We’re here.”
Taking his boots off, Tanner left them by the door and lay down on top of the covers at first. After a minute, he shifted under the blanket and pulled Savannah closer. She sighed and pressed into him like she always had.
He stared at the ceiling, listening to the house. The quiet was different here. It wasn’t the tense quiet of the apartment with footsteps in the hall and voices behind the walls. Here, the quiet felt safe.
Eventually, his body gave up and he fell asleep with his arm around Savannah and his face turned toward her hair.
***
In the morning, Tanner woke to a sound that didn’t belong. A floorboard. A soft creak. At first he thought it was just the house and after being away for three years he’d have to get used to it again, then the murmur of a voice reached him.
Savannah was tucked against him, still sleeping, and Tanner slid his hand over her back and felt her breathe. The voice came again, clearer this time. A woman’s voice. Low, like a whisper.
Tanner sat up slowly and reached for the flashlight, then remembered it was daylight. Pale light pushed through the curtains he hadn’t closed properly the night before. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood without making a sound.
Ignoring his racing heart, Tanner checked the door, then crossed the hallway barefoot. He paused at the top of the stairs and listened.
“I think someone’s in there,” the woman was saying. “The Fernsby place. I saw the door—” There was a pause then, “Oh!”
Tanner stepped down one stair and winced when a board creaked under his foot. The voice cut off and a chair scraped. He took the stairs slowly, one hand on the rail, and rounded the corner into the living room.
Mrs. Hemsworth stood by the kitchen doorway with a phone in her hand. Her gray hair was pulled back, and she wore a cardigan like she always had, even in summer. She looked shocked for a second, then she gave him a small smile.
“Tanner,” she murmured.
Tanner nodded. “Morning.”
She looked him up and down then glared at him. “You scared the life out of me.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Tanner murmured. His voice came out rough, so he cleared his throat. “I didn’t think anyone would—”
“You didn’t think anyone would notice the door?” Mrs. Hemsworth cut in, then she shook her head. “Never mind.”
She lifted the phone again, her eyes still on him. “No, everything is fine. My mistake,” she said into it. “Yes. I’m sure.” She nodded. “Alright. Bye.”
She hung up and watched him. Tanner didn’t move closer. He stayed where he was, leaving space between them, because he didn’t know what she’d do next. He didn’t know what he should do next.
Mrs. Hemsworth studied him properly now; her eyes locked on his. “You’re back.”
Tanner nodded. “Yeah.”
She took in his face and she asked, “Where have you been?”
“Out of town.”
She gave him a look that said she didn’t buy that for a second, but she didn’t push it. “You look tired.”
He let out a short breath. “We traveled overnight.”
“We?” she repeated. Mrs. Hemsworth’s gaze flicked past him toward the hallway. “You’re not alone.”
“No,” Tanner said.
Something in her expression changed. She’d been one of the neighbors who brought casseroles when his mom was sick. One of the people who’d stood in the yard after the funeral, whispering with the others. One of the people who’d watched him leave and never come back.
“And you just… came back,” she said, almost to herself. “You still had a key.”
Tanner didn’t answer. He stood and watched her instead.
Mrs. Hemsworth’s mouth tightened. “Does TJ know?”
Tanner blinked at that. “Why would TJ—”
“Because he’s the sheriff,” she snapped, then corrected herself with a calmer tone, “because he runs the department. If there’s someone in a house that’s been empty for years, people will call it in.”
Tanner’s heart raced. “You called it in.”
“I started to,” she told him. “The door wasn’t properly shut and I’m not stupid.” Then she looked him in the eye. “Then I saw you.”
Tanner swallowed. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”
Mrs. Hemsworth’s shoulders eased a fraction, but her eyes stayed sharp. “You always were a stubborn boy.”
“I’m not a boy.”
“No,” she agreed, and there was something in the way she said it that made his chest tighten. “You’re not.”
Silence stretched between them until Tanner heard a small sound from upstairs. A soft footstep and a little hum. Savannah. He turned his head toward the stairs before he could stop himself. The instinct was immediate.
Mrs. Hemsworth noticed and her gaze softened.
A second later, Savannah appeared at the end of the hall in her pajamas, hair sticking up in a wild tuft. She rubbed her eyes with one fist and clutched her rabbit in the other.
“Tanny,” she said, voice thick with sleep.
Tanner moved toward her at once. He crouched in front of her, hands gentle at her shoulders. “Hey, baby.”
Savannah blinked up at him, then her gaze slid to Mrs. Hemsworth. Mrs. Hemsworth didn’t move or reach out. She stayed where she was and watched, like she understood exactly how fast Tanner would react if she tried anything.
“She’s yours?” Mrs. Hemsworth asked quietly.
Tanner’s jaw tightened. “She’s my sister.”
Mrs. Hemsworth’s brows lifted. “Savannah?”
Tanner didn’t repeat himself. He just picked Savannah up and held her against his chest and Savannah immediately relaxed, her arms looping around his neck.
Mrs. Hemsworth looked from Savannah’s face back to his. “Tanner… I thought…”
“You thought I’d dump her somewhere?”
“No! I…just your parents, then…” She trailed off then asked, “How old now?”
“Three.”
Mrs. Hemsworth’s mouth parted slightly and her expression changed again. “Oh.”
Savannah shifted and whispered, “Hungry.”
Tanner pressed his lips together. “Yeah. I know.”
Mrs. Hemsworth glanced toward the kitchen. “There won’t be food in the cupboards.”
“I’ll handle it.”
She watched him for a second, then nodded. “You’ll need electricity back on too.”
“I’ll handle it,” he repeated, firmer this time.
Mrs. Hemsworth nodded again. “Alright.” She paused then asked, “Do you have papers for her?”
Tanner’s body went rigid and his hand tightened on Savannah’s back. Savannah yawned and rested her head on his shoulder like none of it mattered. Mrs. Hemsworth held his gaze, waiting for him to answer.
Tanner kept his voice flat. “She’s my sister.”
“I know that,” Mrs. Hemsworth said. “But other people will ask.”
Tanner’s stomach twisted. His first instinct was to shut the conversation down. To tell her to mind her business. He didn’t do any of that. Instead, he forced himself to say, “I’ve got what I’ve got. It’s enough.”
Mrs. Hemsworth didn’t push it any further. She nodded, but her eyes stayed serious. “Tanner, if you’re going to do this, you need to do it the right way.”
“I am,” he said.
She studied him for a second, then looked at Savannah again. Her face softened in a way Tanner didn’t expect. “She’s got your mother’s hair,” Mrs. Hemsworth murmured.
Tanner’s throat tightened and he nodded as he held Savannah close. “Yeah,” he whispered.
Mrs. Hemsworth straightened. “I’m going to go before people start noticing anything and ask questions.” She moved toward the door, then paused with her hand on the knob. “I won’t call the department,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “Not today.”
Tanner swallowed. “Thanks.”
Mrs. Hemsworth’s lips flattened. “Get groceries and the power back on, then go speak to someone who can help you.” Her gaze sharpened. “Not the kind of help that takes her away. The kind that lets you keep her.”
He nodded again, because he understood the warning and knew he had to do something at some point. Mrs. Hemsworth left, the door closing softly behind her, and Tanner stood in the quiet kitchen, listening to the house settle.
“Lady nice,” Savannah mumbled.
Tanner let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Yeah,” he said. “She is.”
Savannah pulled back enough to look at him. “Food?”
Tanner kissed the top of her head. “We’ll get food.”
He looked toward the window, toward the street, and toward the town that might be home again if he didn’t screw this up. Tightening his grip on Savannah, Tanner began to plan their day.