Not too far from the house James stopped them and turned back around.
He dropped her hand and sighed out long.
That feeling was back, just as it always was when he was here.
And that was what James wanted to explain to Rose, for whatever reason.
“I was standing about right here when my mom called out to me that it was time to leave,” he said. “Dad had just packed the last of my things I’d left behind and my aunt was helping my foster family tie up loose ends.Iwas out here, running around, because I was never really big on saying bye to a place. And honestly, I think I was still nervous I’d be left behind again.”
James felt Rose’s gaze on him, but he kept his stare locked onto the memory. He pointed to the back porch.
“But then Mom came out there and said it was time to go home. And she didn’t move until I ran all the way from here to there.” James looked at the distance between him and that porch. If there was ever one stretch of land he knew better than the rest, this small run was it. “My life changed in that next house—the house I ended up growing up in—butthisis where my little world actually changed. It’s the first time I felt like I was running toward something worth running for. Sowhen I saw it was up for sale, I came back here with Dad to check it out. And wouldn’t you know it, all I had to do was stand right here and that feeling came right on back.”
He gave out a self-deprecating laugh.
“So I bought the house for this one piece of land as a gift to that scared and anxious seven-year-old. We made it! It was scary and stressful sometimes, but we made it all the same.”
James knew it sounded cheesy, like some kind of movie that had a lot of crying and sharing of feelings, but it was all true.
Standing in the field and looking back at the house in the distance, lights on and warm against the approaching night, was a comfort. Plain and true.
A comfort he had never shared with anyone before, he realized.
Finally, he looked over at Rose.
She was facing the house now. Her hair was cute, held up in a messy bun at the nape of her neck. James bet she might tease him for his dramatic take on the dirt and grass they were standing on. However, Rose was frowning. Even in profile, it was pronounced.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Her voice was nothing but agitation.
“You brought me—the lady who already got your workplace blown up—to a placethisspecial and irreplaceable?” She whirled around to face him. Her hands went right to her hips like she was a teacher scolding a disappointing student. “Are you kidding me? Thanks for the pressure there, Mr. Keller!”
For a second, James worried that she was seriously mad. But then she rolled her eyes at him.
“Now I’m going to be worried about protecting you, me and an entire house,” she continued.
James couldn’t help but smile at how exasperated she sounded, especially when she started to walk back to the house, still complaining.
“I thought it was just some silly old house you got because the housing market is horrible,” she continued. “Butnoooo. It’s so sentimental that it made my heart squeeze. Ugh. Now I definitely need to find Damon as soon as possible.”
James’s smile softened as he watched the little Little stomp her way back toward the house with fake outrage.
He waited until she was a few steps away. Like he always did, James imagined his seven-year-old self running ahead, stomach knotted up in barely suppressed excitement.
That didn’t change as he started to walk now.
This time, though, there was definitely something different.
This time he had someone to follow.
* * *
THERE WAS NOnews from Liam, Detective Williams, or anyone else in the next few hours. It made Rose more anxious than if there had been something to report on, bad or not. Instead, she whittled the time away by pacing James’s living room, being told by James not to pace in his living room, and by going back to pacing in James’s living room.
He put the TV on and managed to sidetrack her fora while but eventually Rose decided she needed something stronger than idle chatter.
So she took a bath.
