“It’s the only way I’ll know,” TJ admitted. “If I go and I can’t stop thinking about her, then maybe that’s my answer.”
His brothers fell silent. Even the horses seemed to slow their breathing.
“Remember the story Mom likes to tell about how Dad left for college?” Ethan asked. “He thought he was just stretching his wings. Until he came back six months later and realized what home really was.” Ethan shrugged. “Maybe you forgot what home is supposed to feel like. It’s about people, TJ. Not places.”
TJ smiled. “Maybe.”
Caleb shook his head. “Just don’t wait too long to figure it out, TJ. Sometimes when you leave, the world doesn’t wait for you to come back. Remember that.”
His words settled heavily in TJ’s chest. He knew Caleb wasn’t trying to lecture him. Just give him a warning.
By the time they rode back to the barn, the mist had burned away and the sun shone bright against the pastures. TJ and his brothers unsaddled their horses in silence, brushed them down, and started to put the tack away.
Ethan came up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder. “Whatever you decide, just don’t run from it. Love is scary.”
“I won’t,” TJ said, voice low.
When his brothers headed for the house, TJ stayed behind. He looked toward the hills, then in the direction of the town that had somehow gotten under his skin. Sure, he’d been born and raised here, but it had never affected him like this.
He left the barn and looked at the road that led away from the ranch. If he was ever going to understand what Clear Creek and Lila really meant to him, he’d have to leave both behind. He needed to know if his wanderlust was truly gone.
But were his brothers right? In doing so, would he lose the one thing causing this internal struggle in the first place? TJ had no idea. He’d built a life away from Clear Creek. Could he let that go? He looked toward the town again, shook his head, then headed for the house.
Was he being reckless, making the decision to go home to Cornwall? But he didn’t want to just toss everything away because he thought he was in love. He’d always been in love with his research and job, but Lila had done something to him he couldn’t describe.
The world was brighter with her in it. She made him laugh, and he liked it when she got riled up. She was adorable in a frantic sort of way.
He smiled at the thought and reached the house. Thankfully his brothers would stay quiet about their recent discussion. The last thing he needed was for his mother to try and convince him he was in love.
Besides, he’d have to return to Cornwall anyway to take care of things, even if he’d already decided to stay.
At least once he was back, and his feelings for Lila and home faded, then he hadn’t wasted any time.
Chapter Eighteen
The week crept by. Every morning, Lila told herself not to look at the door. TJ wasn’t coming in. Maybe not ever.
She hadn’t heard a word from him since the day of the infamous pie contest. One minute he’d been standing in Pleasant Beans, grinning that lopsided grin of his and teasing her about health codes… and the next? Nothing. Silence.
No call. No text. Not even a word passed through Grandma and the others.
She’d even tried calling the Jones Ranch late one evening while the shop was quiet. She hung up before anyone could answer. What would she say?Hi! It’s Lila! Just wondering if the man I’m falling hard for vanished off the face of the earth?
Instead, she stayed busy.
Lila wiped the counters twice as often as needed. She arranged the mugs by color, re-alphabetized the tea cannisters, and deep-cleaned the pastry case until it gleamed like new. The others noticed, of course. Especially when she started wiping down the cannisters. She’d ordered them when she found out how much TJ adored tea.
“Lands sakes!” Grandma muttered one morning as Lila polished the same tin for the third time. “You’re going to scrub a hole clean through that cannister if you keep that up!”
“I’m fine,” Lila lied quickly.
“Uh-huh.” Grandma’s stern look said she wasn’t convinced.
Across the room, Irene and Polly exchanged a glance over their knitting. They sat with a small group of women at a table, each with a coffee, happily clicking their needles. Paddy joined them. He shook his head and leaned toward Polly.
“Poor lass,” he said softly. “She’s got the look.”
“What look?” Polly asked.
