The Way Back To Erin. Cerella Sechrist

thought of Gavin, his older brother, who had lived in this house, the same as he had, during high school. And after Burke had moved on, Gavin stayed, marrying Erin and making his home here at the inn, in between his stints of army deployment.

      For a fleeting moment, Burke wondered if maybe Gavin was here with him, if his spirit still walked the halls of the B&B. But he knew better. Wherever his brother was, it wasn’t here.

      Still unnerved by the sense that someone was in the room with him, he opened his eyes. His nephew, Kitt, sat at the end of the bed, his blue eyes intent on Burke. He smiled at the little boy. Kitt ducked his head and didn’t smile back.

      It bothered Burke. He’d only met the kid once before he’d moved back to town. Gavin’s son had been all of three years old at the time, but Burke remembered him as a round-faced, smiling child. That little boy had slight resemblance to the one before him now. This Kitt was subdued, his face already losing its cherubic roundness. He was far too serious for a six-year-old.

      Then again, Burke could relate. His and Gavin’s parents had died in the fire that had destroyed their home when Burke was ten years old. After that, he’d also lost his ability to laugh. It was Gavin who had kept him afloat, Gavin who had remained optimistic despite years of being shuffled from one family member to another. Burke had survived only because of his older brother.

      But Kitt had no older brother. The thought pained Burke, both in his grief for Gavin and sympathy for his nephew.

      “What’s up, little man?”

      Kitt shrugged and scooted farther down the bed. Burke couldn’t quite make out his nephew’s expression, both from his lowered head and because of morning shadows in the room.

      Burke didn’t press him to respond. He remembered his own childhood, the dual experience of self-inflicted isolation and the longing for someone to care.

      He glanced around the room. This had once been his bedroom, long ago. But after years of being absent, Aunt Lenora had converted it into the Galway Room. He found he liked the changes. He hadn’t had many mementos growing up. When he’d lived here, the room had been sparse, the way he preferred it. But now it had a homey, lived-in quality that made him homesick in a contradictory sort of way.

      “Is your mom around?” He didn’t know why he asked the question, other than the fact that thinking about his years in this house always led his thoughts to Erin.

      Kitt gave a half nod and wiggled off the bed. Burke thought maybe he intended to leave, but he only moved a few feet away and settled on the floor.

      Burke sat up and rubbed the pads of his fingers against his eyes, trying to focus. He sniffed the air and smelled the tantalizing aroma of coffee. At first, he thought maybe the inn was entertaining guests today, but then he remembered that Aunt Lenora had closed the B&B this weekend in order to attend the wedding without distractions.

      “Have you had breakfast yet?” Burke asked Kitt. The little boy shook his head, though he still didn’t look up.

      Burke sighed, wishing there was some way to draw his nephew out of his uncommunicative shell. Then, to his surprise, Kitt spoke up.

      “Mom’s making blueberry pancakes. She said they’re your favorite.”

      Burke was startled, not only by the sound of Kitt’s voice but also that Erin had remembered, after so many years, that blueberry pancakes were his favorite breakfast food.

      “She’s right. I love blueberry pancakes.”

      “So did my dad.”

      This soft announcement, barely whispered into the stillness, gave Burke pause. “Yeah, I had to eat fast whenever our mom made them when we were kids.”

      He hadn’t thought about that in years, family breakfasts gathered at the table. Those days had passed lifetimes ago. And to remember them brought more pain than pleasure. But he noticed that Kitt had lifted his head to watch him after this statement.

      His little face was as somber as ever, but he looked curious now. “What else did he used to do when you were kids?”

      Burke experienced a tug of grief. He didn’t allow himself to go back to these days. His childhood had been a precious, beautiful thing, and then it had been his greatest source of pain. But he hated to refuse the rare question from his nephew, so instead, he changed the subject.

      “Tell you what? How about we go get some of those blueberry pancakes, and we can talk about what it was like growing up with your dad some other time?”

      Kitt hesitated but then seemed to decide this was a fair offer. He nodded his head and stood to his feet, padding toward the door. Burke swung his legs over the bed and quickly realized he was still wearing his dress shirt and tux pants from the day before. He frowned, but a glance around the room revealed no other clothing. He’d have to find out what happened to the luggage he’d planned to take on the honeymoon.

      And then he supposed he’d have to make time to collect the belongings he’d moved into Tessa’s house over the last couple of weeks. He wondered if she’d be there.

      It was strange. Though he felt regret and disappointment in Tessa’s defection, he wasn’t experiencing the heartache he should have felt at the loss of his fiancée. Shouldn’t he be more devastated? Unable to sleep or eat?

      But he’d just woken from hours of uninterrupted slumber, and his stomach was rumbling loudly, prompting him toward the blueberry pancakes. Of course, he was sad about Tessa as well as feeling the sting of rejection. But heartsick? No, he didn’t think he felt quite that badly.

      He wasn’t sure what this said about him, nor his relationship with his former fiancée. Maybe he was still in a state of denial, numb to the reality of what had not taken place.

      Or maybe Tessa had seen something he hadn’t and broken things off because she realized he didn’t love her as well as he should.

      * * *

      ERIN LICKED A stray splatter of pancake batter from her knuckle and then focused on pouring more of the thick liquid into the skillet. She reached for the container of blueberries, sprinkled a few juicy orbs onto the wet dough and waited.

      “Are they ready soon, Mom?”

      Erin jumped at the sound of Kitt’s voice. She hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen. But then, he moved like a ghost these days. Just the sound of his voice was a rare and precious thing.

      “Almost. Did you wake up your uncle?”

      “He did.”

      Burke’s voice startled her more than Kitt’s had. But then, it had been a long time since there’d been a man in the inn’s kitchen. Not since Gavin...

      “Do I smell coffee?”

      She turned her attention back to the pancakes and gestured in the direction of the coffeepot. Burke passed by her, stirring the air. The hairs on her arm stood on end from his proximity. The reaction left her uneasy. She’d spent years learning to temper her emotions where Burke was concerned. She was not prepared to give up that hard-won control just because he had spent one night at the inn.

      It didn’t help, though, that he looked a little like James Bond in his rumpled tux.

      Erin resolutely kept her back to Burke as she finished cooking the pancake and put it on a plate. From the corner of her eye, she saw Kitt find a seat at the table. There was a large dining room off the kitchen for guests at the B&B, but this smaller table was reserved for family meals.

      She sensed more than saw Burke carry a mug of coffee to the table and sit.

      “Where’s Aunt Lenora?” he asked.

      “Lenny’s sleeping,” Kitt said, using his nickname for the old woman.

      “Yesterday took a lot out of her,” Erin explained.

      Burke didn’t say anything as Erin poured more batter on the griddle and then