He brushes his lips across my forehead, stealing my breath at the gentle touch. “You’ll just have to wait and see.” He winks and walks away, leaving me in the small alcove with the memory of his lips tingling on my forehead.
Throughout the morning, my thoughts drift back to that kiss, back to his promise of a third date. It’s sometime later, however, that I realize he didn’t actually ask me out on a third date, just assumed I’d go.
Anticipation hums in my body, so much so that I stumble over my words a few times as I read to the kids. No one notices, and those who do just chalk it up to nerves, which I let go, because in the end, it’s nothing but the truth.
Arlo Larson has me completely tied up in knots, and I can’t wait for him to unravel me, to read every page in my book and know me better than I know myself.
Did I just commit to staying in Silent Springs?
CHAPTER 18
Later that week,as a lazy Sunday rolled around and the full moon reached its peak in the sky, the rumble of an engine broke me out of the haze my mind spiraled into. All week, I waited in anticipation of a third date that had yet to occur. I kept waiting for Arlo to surprise me and sweep me off my feet. Yet each time I stopped by his shop, his head was in my bug with the tablet resting on the counter, streaks of oil smeared across the top of it.
Until that engine roared during lunch.
Lark drops her sandwich on the table, her eyes lighting up and a squeal on her lips. “Is that him?” she questions, but she already knows the answer as she darts down the hall and out the door. The screen slaps against the frame like a gunshot.
There is only one person we expected this weekend, and that’s Robin. By now, we’ve learned the sound of every single delivery vehicle from the way they hit the potholes in the road and speed down a street. T hey don’t know when every single citizen of Silent Springs wouldn’t dare speed.
But I know this engine well.
“Company?” Saffron raises a brow in question while she holds a large metal bowl in one hand as her other hand whisks batter for muffins.
“Company,” I answer, bouncing in my seat, my lunch forgotten as I rush after Lark.
In the driveway, my heart melts as I find Robin, with his luggage forgotten at his feet, as he holds Lark to him, hugging her with fierce abandon. His bright green eyes find me through the frizz of her red curls that match his. With a nod, a promise, he tells me my hug is next as he holds her closer, tighter.
It’s been too long, and my heart breaks just a little at the way Lark wraps herself up in the safety of her uncle.
I missed him.
I missed his stocky frame that reminds me of the picture of our father and his flaming red hair from our mother. The smattering of freckles across the bridge of his once broken nose and those eyes of his that reflect mine. The way he would walk through storms just to get to us leaves a lump in my throat and an ache in my soul that we aren’t closer.
But when my eyes settle on the army bag at his feet, the only keepsake he retained from those days, I wonder just how long he’ll stay.
Detaching Lark from his embrace, he sets her on her feet. “Look at you, sprout! When did you get so tall?”
“I can almost look Mom in the eyes.”
“I wouldn’t say that too loudly,” he stage-whispers, “even though we all know that’s the truth.”
“Hey, you.” Though the cold bites at my thin, long-sleeved shirt, when Robin wraps me up in a hug, all I feel is his warmth.
Growing up, it was only ever Robin and me after our parents died. Though Gram was around, she worked to provide for us. He was my best friend, my therapist, my only immediate family. Yes, we had Gram, but we shared a deep loss most kids never have to experience.
His hug tightens as I recall the last time I saw him, sitting beside me as we watched Eric’s casket lower into the ground.The promising warm spring breeze was a hard contrast to just how I felt that day as Robin laced my fingers in his. He almost didn’t head back to Maine that weekend, stating that I needed him more than the resort did.
I needed him, but I never voiced that need. Instead, I reminded him of the life he chose and that, for now, he needed to keep on living for the both of us while my heart took the time it needed to mend.
For the first time in the last year, I feel more healed from that wound than ever. Though Eric’s loss still burns with pain, an anguish that may never heal, it’s eased more and more in the weeks I’ve spent here.
“I missed you,” he mutters into my hair before sputtering out the strands.
I pull back, though I don’t want to, feeling even lighter than I did before. Robin is my safe space, and no matter what I’m feeling or going through, he will always carry a part of my burden. “Hey.”
“Hey back at you.” Stepping away, he grabs his duffle and swings it over his shoulder. “So this is Silent Springs?” He gazes around at the autumn landscape.
I know what he sees though. Through his eyes, he sees the town sans snow that landed me here. Though it snowed less than three weeks ago, now the town looks as though autumn has settled all around us. The leaves flutter to the ground in an array of warm tones, though the green grass remains vibrant. Off in the distance, I can still hear the rush of the water over the rustling wind. A hidden spring feeds the town its water supply, a place I have yet to find and one I anticipate exploring.
