1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Remington

Sugar Brush had shrunk in the thirteen years I’d been away. Or maybe I’d grown. Either way, it wasn’t the same. Main Street no longer seemed like it went on forever. The stout buildings had lost some of their gleam. Brick and glass showed their age. Wyoming winters didn’t go easy on anything, not even the structures built to withstand them.

I stopped at a red light and looked around at the heart of town. It belonged on a postcard. Hell, it was on postcards. Hazel’s pharmacy had displayed them on a swiveling rack. As a kid, I’d gotten into trouble for spinning it too fast a time or two. I idly wondered if that same rack was still there. Or if Hazel was. She’d been old then, and time had kept turning.

I drummed my thumbs on my wheel, my patience wearing thin as I waited for my signal to go. There were two traffic lights on this street now, but they had to be more for show than anything. A town like this barely needed one.

There were businesses I didn’t recognize, but a lot I did. Sugar Rush Bakery was new, while Joy’s Elbow Room hadn’t changed a lick. Not on the outside anyway. I’d left before I was old enough to drink, and Joy would have tossed me out on my hide if I’d tried to sneak in.

The plan had been never to return. The town held nothing for me. But now that I was here, I was hit with an urge to get out, stretch my legs, and walk the length of this street to see if it felt as different as it looked.

Another day.

Daylight was already waning, and I wanted to get to the house before the sun set. The last knock on my head was still doing a number on me and driving at night now tended to bring on headaches.

The light turned green, and I drove to the end of Main Street, navigating my way to the lone grocery store. There was a big-box store out in Cheyenne, but time was at a premium, and I didn’t need much. I’d venture farther when I had the time and inclination. For now, The Grocery Warehouse would suit me just fine.

The name was apt for the square concrete building I walked into. No frills. Metal shelves and handwritten prices. There weren’t ten types of bread. It was wheat or white around these parts, and something about not having to make a lot of choices was comforting.

I shook that thought away, replacing it with the memory of how stifling it’d been to live like this. Leaving was all I’d thought about. Making escape plans had been my source of solace.

The fluorescent lights made me flinch, and a sharp pain sliced my forehead in half. I slid my sunglasses from the neck of my T-shirt and slipped them on. I wasn’t a man who wore shades indoors, but if I wanted to get through this, it had to be done. No way I could spend any amount of time in the bright, artificial lights without trying to claw my skull off my neck.

Grabbing a cart, I made quick work of throwing essentials in. Not only did I want to get out of here, but I also wasn’t eager to run into anyone who’d recognize me. That time would come. Word filtered through Sugar Brush like summer brush fires. I just wanted a day or two to find my bearings before it happened. There would be opinions about my return—questions too. And I wasn’t looking forward to answering them.

I made it to the checkout line before taking in the people around me. The cashier, about my age, was familiar in the way most people in a town this size were. We’d probably gone to school together, but I couldn’t be sure. She was taking her time ringing up the man in front of me, and my attention diverted to the other customers in line, stopping on the woman behind me.

Her, I recognized. There was no mistaking the tall, icy blonde for anyone other than Mrs. Elena Kelly, my childhood best friend’s mom. I’d spent a lot of my days out on the Kelly ranch with Caleb, getting dirty and making trouble. His parents had been firm but not strict, and they had welcomed me into their home for countless dinners and sleepovers.

Elena Kelly’s gaze swept over me, pausing for a moment. I nodded at her, my mouth curving into a half smile.

“Good evening, Mrs. Kelly.”

She cocked her head, taking me in. There was no flare of recognition, but it’d been more than a decade since she’d seen me. I pushed my sunglasses to the top of my head, giving her a better view.

Finally, she drawled, “I’m sorry, have we met?”

“We have, ma’am. Been a while, though. I was friends with Caleb back in school.”

“Hmmm.” She gave me a long once-over, her lips pursed. She had to be in her mid fifties, but she looked ten years younger. Caleb had once told me his dad called her Elsa, after a Disney princess, and even now if someone told me she ruled over an ice kingdom, I’d believe it. “Well, you must not have been close, or you’d know I despise being called ‘ma’am and Mrs. Kelly is my mother-in-law.”

I had to clench my jaw to stop it from falling open. I didn’t know what I’d expected her to say, but it wasn’t that. I had distinct memories of this woman from my adolescence, of her laughing at how dirty Cay and I were, admonishing us for not wiping our boots on the welcome mat, taking me aside to ask if I was okay at home, and she had no recollection of me.

Reality slapped me in the face. I’d extricated myself from this town, but this town had done an even better job at exorcising me.

“Sorry, ma’a—” I stopped, correcting myself. “Elena, it’s good to see you again.”

Her icy eyes trailed over me once more, and her mouth curved into a polite if not entirely sincere, little smile.

“Caleb works on the ranch.” She flicked her perfectly manicured nails in my direction. “But I’m sure you know that already.”

I nodded. I hadn’t known but I’d figured as much. Caleb Kelly had loved his family’s ranch. His goal had always been to take over for his dad, who’d taken over for his dad, and his dad before him. It was the kind of legacy he’d been proud to continue, not one he couldn’t wait to walk away from.

“Thanks. I’ll get in touch with him while I’m in town.”

I didn’t know if I meant it. I couldn’t be sure Caleb would even welcome hearing from me after all this time. But I wasn’t going to say that to his mother.

She lifted her elegant chin. “It’s your turn.”

“Ah…” I twisted my neck to see the cashier had scanned and bagged my groceries and was now tapping her fingers, waiting for me to pay. “Thanks. I’ll see you around.”

“You’re welcome.”

Her cool politeness frosted over me as I paid my bill and followed me outside into the setting sun. Only as I got into my truck did it thaw.

I didn’t linger in the parking lot. Putting my truck into gear, I went on my way. The house was on the outskirts of town, and I was running out of daylight. It’s what I got for dragging my feet on the route to Sugar Brush, but there was almost nothing here I was looking forward to.

They said you could never go home again, but as I pulled onto the long drive leading to the house I grew up in, the same old dread pitted my stomach, just like it did back then. I could’ve been seventeen again for how little the feeling had changed.

Except it was all different now. Just an old, empty house. Nothing but echoes of my past waiting inside. Nothing to fear. Nothing to dread.

It was just a house.

Walls, floors, fixtures.

Nothing and no one else.

Just me and my memories.

I took a deep breath and climbed out, my boots hitting the dusty gravel.

This was it. It had to be done.

No way out but through.