“Finn’s out in the barn. He just let the horses out and was going to clean their stalls.” Noah walks past me and over to my car. “Are your bags in the trunk?”
I nod, turning to walk over with him. The apartment I had a short-term lease on was fully furnished, so I managed to pack all my things in my car to come home. “We can get them later.”
“Nonsense,” he says, waving his hand as he pops open the trunk. “We’ll take them inside and get you settled in now.”
A smile tugs on my lips and I’m glad that Noah let the conversation about vet school go. “Okay,” I nod, walking over to take one of my duffle bags he’s holding out. He grabs both suitcases, setting them down on the gravel, and reaches for my last bag and hands it to me. There are a few boxes in the back seat, but they’re mostly books, trinkets, and decorations from around the small apartment I was living in.
Noah leads the way into the farmhouse and we both kick off our shoes in the entryway before heading upstairs. Finn and Noah have been living here since our parents bought a place along the coast. I’m not sure what either of their plans are, if theyplan on living here together forever, but I’m glad they’re both here right now.
Being home with my family is exactly what my soul needs.
I follow my brother into my childhood bedroom and it’s exactly as I left it. The walls are a soft green with white trim. My queen-sized bed sits across the room with a fluffy white down comforter and bright white pillows to match. There are a few horse pictures on my walls, along with a shelf of trophies and a few ribbons. Most of them were stored under my bed.
Bending over, I lift the bed skirt and check beneath, a smile tugging on my lips as I see the plastic container filled to the brim with ribbons from horse shows growing up.
“Is this okay?” Noah asks as he sets my suitcases down by my closet doors. “I can run out and grab the rest of your things.”
“We can get the rest later,” I say, smiling at my brother as he lingers in the doorway. “I don’t really feel like unpacking right now anyway.”
A smile tugs on his lips. “Coffee instead?”
“You read my mind.”
I leave all my things in my room and follow Noah down into the kitchen. The aroma of freshly made coffee wafts around us. He walks over to the coffee maker, lifting the pot as he turns back to me.
“Grab three mugs,” he says, dipping his chin. “Finn will probably be in soon.”
“Should I go out and get him?”
Noah shrugs as I pull out three mismatched mugs from the cabinet and set them down in front of him. “If you want.”
Finn is the oldest of the three of us. He’s 28, Noah is 26, and I’m the baby of the family at 23. Noah and I both went to college, but Finn opted out and learned the ropes here, taking over the farm when he was twenty-four.
Noah left the Hollow with a full ride baseball scholarship and ended up playing major league for a few years. I don’t know if the pressure were too much, or what it was exactly, but his mental health suffered while he was playing. He refuses to talk to anyone about it, except for his therapist, and he seems happy now.
Tapping maple trees for sap and making sugar from it wasn’t really what I planned on doing with my life. It’s our family business, but our parents never expected me to become a sugar-maker when they knew I had big dreams of becoming a veterinarian.
My dreams are still there, but they're just on hold, temporarily.
It’s kind of hard to become a veterinarian when you don’t get accepted into vet school.
Noah hands me a mug and steam rises from within its perimeter. I lift it closer to my face, inhaling the rich scent. “It smells so good.”
“The beans are from Sweet Grounds,” he says as he passes me the carton of creamer from the fridge. “Finn won’t drink any of the bullshit store brands.”
A chuckle vibrates in my chest, and I pour at least three servings worth of creamer into my coffee. It turns a light caramel color when I stir it, just the way I like it. “I’m not surprised, honestly.”
“You didn’t tell him you were coming either, did you?”
I shake my head, then take a sip. “I’d imagine he probably knows I’m here now, though.”
Noah huffs out a chuckle and rolls his eyes as he takes the creamer from me. He pours some into his mug and the one for Finn before popping it back into the fridge. “Come on, let’s go see,” he says, slinging his tattooed arm over my shoulder ashe pulls me toward the front of the house. He releases me just inside the foyer to grab his jacket and shrug it on.
We both pull on our dirty boots, grab our coffees, and head out onto the front porch. The cold early-November air swirls around us, kicking up fallen leaves as we walk down the steps and across the yard toward the barn. Just as the soles of our boots hit the gravel, the doors to the barn slide open and Finn’s dog comes darting directly to us.
He stops at Noah first, his tail wagging so hard, his whole body moves with it. Then he comes to me. I crouch down, using one arm to push against his massive, wiggling body to keep him down while I pet him with my free hand. “Calm down, Otto,” I laugh as he laps at the side of my face.
“Look what the cat dragged in.”
