“Of course it isn’t.” I leaned my head against the seat and stared at the car ceiling.
“Then what are you really afraid of?”
“That I won’t be able to go back to Sacramento,” I whispered, thinking of the culinary certificate I’d earned right before I’d lost my job.
“I’ve said this before—” He shot me a smug glance for emphasis. “look at it as a temporary summer job.”
Ezra had said something like that before, but I had blown it off. I heaved out a breath. He was right. I hated it when he was right. Still, as I accepted it, the horrible sense of being in prison eased a little for the first time since the letter had come from the attorney.
“Haven’t Mom and Dad waited long enough for their dream to come true?” he asked, his voice soft. “Let’s help them and just enjoy this summer together.”
I heard the word “last” even though he didn’t say it—our last summer together.
And there it hung in the air, the ultimate reason I hated this amazing thing that had happened to us. Two months ago Dad had inherited hundreds of acres, including a castle. I should be happy for him. But an inheritance shouldn’t pull our family in different directions. In Sacramento we’d had a good life. After a few lean years, Dad’s business had taken off again. We had friends there, a support group. Some of us had plans.
For more than a year, my best friend Taylor and I had talked about opening our own dessert boutique. Then the letter from the attorney had come, and I’d been the rope in a tug-of-war, pulled back and forth: stay with the family I loved or pursue my dream.
It hadn’t been hard for Ezra. Two years ago he’d barely blinked at turning down a scholarship to Berkeley. He’d said he’d rather get his computer science degree online than make a three-hour commute round trip, and he sure didn’t want to live in the Bay Area. It was too far from family.
I sighed again. Too far from family. I’d always counted on them being nearby.
“Here,” I said. “Let her rest on me, so you can work on your assignment.”
“Thanks.” Ezra eased his arm out from behind Mellie.
With care, I shifted her. Up front, Mom said something to the boys, and they all laughed. Our eyes met when she checked the rearview mirror, and she winked. She looked so happy.
My parents had talked for years about buying a big house and turning it into a bed and breakfast. Dad’s building skills and Mom’s organizing and killer decorating skills? Perfect combo. Inheriting the castle really was a dream come true for them.
I needed to stop fighting my decision. Like Ezra had said, there hadn’t been much of a decision once I’d lost my job. It took money to open a dessert boutique. I might as well work for my father in Washington as for a stranger in Sacramento.
Our last summer together. I reached across Mellie and gave Ezra’s shoulder a little push.
“That’s better.” He grinned.
Up ahead, Dad slowed the large moving truck.
“Do you think we’re here?” I whispered, but Ezra only shrugged. I peered into the heavily wooded area that surrounded us, hoping to see something besides trees. The forest made giant green and brown walls on both sides of the highway. If the road had been any narrower, the effect would have been claustrophobic.
“Look.” Ezra pointed to a side lane the truck ahead was turning onto.
A quaint, carved-stone sign stood on the shoulder of the road, almost overwhelmed by the growth. A corner had broken off, giving it a feel of antiquity and welcome. It stated only the name of the village—Wildstone, and the distance—two miles.
“Check it out.” Eli and Joel had taken notice and plastered their faces against the windows. “Sick!” They pointed to another, newer sign just beyond the inviting stone one.
Keep Out. Private Property.
“That’s a little ominous,” I said.
“I’d say curious, not ominous.” Ezra shot his big brother “behave” look. Like the extra ten minutes he’d been alive made him all knowing or something.
“Fine.” I should stop seeing bad omens in everything. I gave Mellie a gentle shake. “Wake up, sleepyhead. I think we’re almost there.”
“Where?” Mellie jerked upright, her head darting back and forth between the windows. “There’s only trees.”
“Only a mile or so to go.” Ezra pointed to a map he had on his laptop.
As we drove on, at first only more forest surrounded us. Then the tree tunnel opened to show a large, roundish valley with snowcapped Mt. Baker as a distant backdrop. My breath caught at the beauty of the view. Mellie squealed, and the boys sat speechless for a second before pelting Mom with questions.
