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“You’re welcome.” Watching her eat the pancakes with obvious pleasure satisfied something deep inside me. I liked taking care of this woman. The years had done nothing to lessen my feelings when it came to her.
The fact that I’d never felt anything similar with anyone else was also telling. Nineteen was too young to understand what I was giving up and that I’d never find it with anyone else. In order to move forward, I’d need to deal with our past, and I wasn’t sure that was possible.
CHAPTER 3
FIONA
After breakfast, I headed to my dad’s house. I couldn’t avoid it for much longer. He’d expected me to stay with him. But I couldn’t stay in that house. I’d barely been back in all the years since Mom died.
I worried the memories would be too much. That I’d feel the acute loss when she wasn’t standing in the kitchen next to Daphne baking cookies.
With every mile I traveled in the rental car, I felt my nerves pick up. How would my family greet me? Would they be irritated that I’d stayed away for so long?
I wasn’t ready to talk about what happened or why I was here. But it was too much to hope that my brothers would stay out of my business.
The only way to shut them out was to move hundreds of miles away and rarely come home. I parked the car in front of the main house.
The house looked like it could use a fresh coat of paint. I knew Dad resisted Teddy’s efforts to do any major repairs or make changes to the property.
Dad sat in the rocking chair on the front porch waiting for me.
“Daddy.” Warmth flooded through my chest as I leaned down to hug him.
He held me tight. “It’s good to have you back.”
“It’s good to be back,” I said as I straightened, catching the unshed tears in his eyes.
Dad stood. “It’s chilly. Come inside. I’ll make you some coffee.”
“That would be great.” I followed him inside, bracing myself for the familiar smells and the memories.
The house was exactly the same as when I was a kid. The same framed photographs hung on the wall, ending with my high school graduation picture. After that, no one bothered to print pictures and hang them. The kitchen sported the dated cabinets and cracked countertops. “Have you thought about renovating?”
Dad shook his head. “The farm barely earns enough to pay for itself. The boys deserve to earn money for their efforts too.”
My lips twitched. “Those boys are in their twenties and thirties now.”
“I’ll always think of you as my little girl.”
I rolled my eyes. “I haven’t been little in a long time.”
Dad sighed as he moved around the kitchen. “You haven’t needed me for longer than that.”
“I know it feels like that at times, but I’ll always need you.”
Dad raised a brow. “What about your brothers?”
I chuckled. “I could do without them.”
The door opened, and Jameson walked in. “Who can you do without?”
“You,” I teased, the mood lightening with him entering the room.
“You know you love me,” Jameson said as he hugged me. When he pulled back, he asked, “What’s for breakfast, old man?”
“You come for breakfast and expect Dad to cook for you?” I was interested in their dynamic now that Jameson was an adult but still living in the apartment above the garage.
Jameson winked. “You can cook for me too.”
