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Chapter 1

It had been way too long. And maybe not long enough. Zach’s truck growled past the city limit sign, Edenburg, Pop: 763, and he caught a hint of those butterflies he’d been expecting for the past three days. He sighed. It was a complicated sound of relief, trepidation, and regret. Both soothing and bracing.

In the passenger seat, Jasper lifted her mottled head to blink at him. She knew that sound was different somehow. Zach scratched her jaw. “We’re home, girl. Let’s hope we’re welcome.”

She purred.

Zach pulled off the highway and instantly recognized the curves of almost-germinated dirt that guided visitors into Edenburg. Keshel’s farmland, a mixed bag of grains, stretched for a mile.

Motel 8. It was the only place for someone not from ’round here to crash for the night. There were only four rooms and as far as Zach knew, they’d never been occupied all at once. His truck crackled over loose stone. Jasper jumped to the dashboard and flicked her ears around.

The motel wasn’t anything to write home about. Generally, Edenburg was the home people were writing to. It still could use a coat of paint around the gutters but it stood. Zach tapped the window at the front desk and waited.

Mrs. Amelia shuffled out of the back, smacking a piece of gum like she was still sixteen. She approached the dusty window and blew a bubble. “’Lo there, son. Where are you headed?”

Zach smiled a little. He honestly thought she’d be gone. “Right here, Mrs. A. Thought I’d retrace some old ground.”

At the first sound of his voice, Mrs. Amelia squinted at the glass like she could shoot lasers. “Zachariah?”

“Yes’m.”

“Well, I’ll be.” She shuffled back away from the glass. It took a few seconds but she popped the side door open and stepped into the sunlight. She held onto the doorknob. “Zachariah Benjamin Andrews, I never. You’re quite a sight.”

“It’s great to see you,” Zach agreed. “I can’t believe you’re still running this place.”

“Keeps me from sleeping in. It’s not good for you.” She waved him closer, “What are you—no, it’s Mason, isn’t it?”

“I got a call. His mother died?”

“Bless her. Owen’s doing his best to help. Mason didn’t tell us you were coming.”

And that was the crux of it really. He hadn’t even spoken to the man for nearly as long as he’d been gone. “He doesn’t know.”

“Foolish. And you think you’re sleeping here. Where’s your head? Back at university?” She pried the keys from his hand with more strength than he expected and made for the driver side door with deliberate steps.

“Wait, Mrs. A, I can’t just show up on his doorstep and expect he’ll put me up.”

“’Course not.” She got the door open without appearing to need any help at all. “That’d be rude. You’re coming with me, boy.” She slammed the door closed, greeted his cat like they’d known each other for years, and started his truck. “You riding with me or walkin’ home?”

Zach started for his own passenger door. “Going where?” he muttered.

Jasper jumped to his lap. Mrs. A threw rocks around the parking lot and handled his stick shift like a pro. Zach couldn’t remember if she’d ever owned a car.

“You did all right at that big school in Tidewater, didn’t you?”

“Yes’m. Degreed in business and another in accounting later-on.”

“And why aren’t you coming back with a lady on your arm?”

Zach sucked his teeth. Not a lot seemed to have changed out here. Had people’s opinions? “I’m not into women, Mrs. A.”

She clucked. “That’s right, I forgot. Why haven’t you got a man, then?”

He cocked his head at her. “I haven’t managed to catch the right one.” Wasn’t that the understatement of his life?

Mrs. Amelia pulled neatly into her driveway and tossed the keys back to Zach. “Help me outta this bus you call a truck.”

It really wasn’t that big, but next to the oldest woman in town it was downright massive. Zach offered his extended arm to Jasper, who walked up to his shoulders. He helped Mrs. Amelia down to the ground. “I really didn’t want to impose on—”

“Stop it. You can’t stay at the motel. There’s no one there to check you in.” She propped the screen door open with a potted fern. “Now pull out some of those bags of yours and take the blue room. I’ll get you some sheets.”

Zach’s phone buzzed. He saw a text from Baliey.

Condo sale is final. Just traded paperwork. You’ll see the deposit when the bank clears it in about a week.

Jasper jumped to the ground and trotted through Mrs. Amelia’s open front door. That was that, he supposed. He didn’t have a home to go back to. No turning around, now. Zach really hoped he wouldn’t need the bridge he’d just burned.

He texted Baliey.

Thanks, just reached town. Here goes nothin’.

Zach’s truck was packed with less than he had expected to take. He’d left his library of hardbacks to Baliey and sold just about everything else with the condo. He had almost two weeks’ worth of clothes, a few mementoes, and Jasper’s things. It all fit into two bags and a crate. The sum-total of his life for the past ten years.

He carted his things into the blue room as directed. A fresh set of sheets was folded on the corner chair. He found Jasper inspecting every corner of the kitchen while Amelia prepared something on the stove. “I’ll have supper up in a minute. You moved in?”

“Well enough.” Zach set up Jasper’s litter pan next to the trash and wrangled her off the dining room table. He dropped her in the pan. She kicked litter off her paws and went back to inspecting kitchen corners.

“She looks like a little leopard.”

“Her name is Jasper. She’ll answer to it if you don’t try it too often. Very smart.”

“How did you get her?”

“She found me at a cafe corner. She stole half my tuna sandwich. I gave her the rest.”

“You couldn’t find anyone to take her while you visited?”

“I wasn’t sure how long I’d be out here.”

Amelia hummed and stirred her skillet.

Zach took a seat at the table. Jasper jumped up on the table and tasted the decorative palm frond in the center vase. She rolled her orange eyes at Zach. “It’s not supposed to taste good. It’s fake.” Jasper abandoned the table. Zach asked Amelia, “Where is Mason living, now?”

“Same property. He’s done a lot of good work with it.”

“I wanted to drive by and see him tonight.”

“You can. He might be out hunting, though. He is most afternoons. Here, eat up.”

Zach racked his brain over dinner for what he should say, but after three days he still had nothing. What does one say to a man he hasn’t seen in a decade? A man he still loved more than life beyond this small town?