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A chance.
It was only for a second, and barely visible, but Branch saw the flash of desire that broke through her hard façade. It was the desire to let go of the pain and heartache and unhappiness that had remained in Port Landon with her when Branch hadn’t. He wasn’t naive enough to believe it meant she still loved him after all the years and all the turmoil that had passed by, but it was a chance. A miniscule sliver, maybe, but a chance, nonetheless. He would take it.
Seeing Kait seemed to light a fire in him, somehow. Not just one that burned in his chest and reminded him of who she had once been to him – and who he’d been to her – but also a fire that encouraged him to do something. Make a plan. Get things sorted. Grandma Addie wouldn’t want him sitting alone in this big old house ruminating over days gone by and holding on to all the tangible things that didn’t matter in the greater scheme of things. She had been a woman who had loved love. She knew the value of loving someone and being loved, and she made no bones about telling him, even as a kid, that the stuff we accumulated over the course of our lives meant nothing in comparison to the relationships we made. That was where we truly prospered, she said, not in the collection of money and things, but in the accumulation of memories and experiences with those we loved and cherished.
It turned out he had been listening to all those late-night lectures she’d given, after all.
First things first. After his impromptu trip to the diner to seek out coffee, Branch hit up the grocery store and restocked the fridge. He was going to be around for the next month, so he needed to start acting like it. Food, cleaning products, and a copy of this week’s Port Landon Ledger. He needed some updated information on this town, even if the town wasn’t as willing to glean updated information on him. Planning to read through the paper that night, he tossed it near Grandpa Duke’s armchair. The man had been gone four years, but it would always be his chair to Branch.
His burst of renewed energy came to a crashing halt when he bravely swung the attic ladder down from the ceiling and slid the latches into place to secure it. One look at the piles of boxes and totes amongst the mysterious piles covered in dusty sheets and Branch wished he’d never popped his head into the attic in the first place. Cobwebs hung in long, thick linear patterns, and dust floated through the air in a speckled pattern where the sun’s rays struggled to shine through the grime-coated window at the other end of the room.
‘It’s just stuff, right, Grandma?’ he muttered, scanning the mess. ‘A whole lot of stuff.’ He could almost hear her throaty chuckle and see the deep crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes as they squinted, glinting with amusement at his reaction to the mountains of boxes.
Not for the first time, he wished she was there. He wished anyone was there. Knowing he had help to sort through this would certainly ease the burden a bit. And the loneliness.
Maybe it was better to start off smaller, take on the task of sorting through his grandfather’s magazine racks downstairs instead. He could tackle this hoard of antiques and mementos another day.
Then, he saw it.
‘No way.’ Being careful where he stepped in case of weakened floorboards or unseen hazards, Branch crawled up into the attic and made his way across the dimly lit room. The obstacle course of piles and sheet-covered furniture left him panting in the stale air by the time he reached it, but as he ran his palm over the metal backboard of the basketball net, a different sense of nostalgia hit him like a lethal ocean wave.
Port Landon was home, he reminded himself, his fingers tangling in the frayed net. Even if it isn’t now, it was. Once. He had a life here, then. Family. Friends. All of which he had essentially hidden from each time he swooped into town under the shadowed veil of night-time and left just as quickly as he showed up. But there had been more to his childhood and teenage years than the fateful debacle that turned his name into a curse word amongst the community.
Branch wiped a hefty coat of dust from the basketball net and awkwardly managed to get it down the attic stairs without breaking it or his neck. Suddenly, he knew exactly where to start when it came to getting things sorted.
Branch had to keep reminding himself that more than a decade had passed. Somehow, Port Landon looked exactly the same as he remembered. The postcard-like beauty surrounded him everywhere he turned. The tiny town was cloaked under a thick blanket of snow, with Christmas lights and decorations accenting every wrought iron streetlamp or porch railing. The sight was picturesque and festive, reminding him that he was just as much a part of it as the town was a part of him.
It might have felt different to him, but it looked like the same small town he grew up in and reeled him in the way only a hometown could do.
Perhaps that meant it was him who had changed instead, viewing it with warier, pessimistic eyes.
As he pulled up in front of it, Branch took in the brick bungalow with slight trepidation. He had spent many evenings and weekends in this yard. He’d probably logged just as many hours and weeks and years at the Forresters’ house as he had at his grandparents’ if he added them up. The house matched his memory of it. The Christmas lights were even strung across the eaves and down the columns on either side of the front step the same way they had been decorated when he was a kid.
It’s me that’s different, he reminded himself. And it was him that had chosen not to contact his friends after he left. He hoped Jason’s parents still owned the house, and that they would be forgiving enough to at least tell him where Jason lived now. Whether Jason was in town or not, Branch had left his grandparents’ house five minutes ago vowing to make contact with one of his old friends. If it had to be via phone, he would call, but Branch was determined to try to track him down.
The driveway was newly plowed, and a blue Dodge Ram sat in the driveway. Branch was half expecting to see Jason’s mom’s old silver Corolla sitting beside it, but, of course, that car was probably in a scrapyard somewhere by now.
Snow covered the lawn, and the windowsills had inches of ice packed into the corners. A shovel was propped up beside the front door, at the ready. Holding his breath, Branch grabbed the brass door knocker and slapped it down a few times, the sound loud and obnoxious in the chilly silence of the residential street.
The door opened quickly enough that Branch wondered if the man who opened it had been standing on the other side, waiting for him.
The wide eyes that greeted him confirmed that wasn’t the case.
‘Sterling, is that you?’
Jason Forrester was no longer the lanky teenager waiting to grow into his gangly limbs and deep voice. The man could have been a linebacker with those broad shoulders and his thick, muscular build. His close-cropped black hair and dark eyes revealed his identity, though. From the nose up, Branch would have recognized his childhood friend anywhere.
‘I could ask you the same thing, Jay.’
‘Well, I’ll be.’ The hug he wrapped Branch in was strong and sincere. Whatever reservations Branch had about coming here, they were laid to rest in an instant. ‘Come on in. It’s too cold to be standing out there.’
The interior of the house came as a shock to him. As Branch shuffled out of his coat and boots at the entryway, he took in the neutral colors on the walls and the leather couch and loveseat in the living room. From his vantage point, he could see through to the kitchen, now lined with modern white cupboards and a small pub-style table and chairs. It was a stark contrast to the melamine and aluminum he remembered. So, some things did change in Port Landon, then.
‘You still living here with your mom and dad?’ The question was out of his mouth before Branch fully thought it through. If Jason was offended, he didn’t show it as he pulled two colas from the fridge and offered him one.
‘I can tell it isn’t just me you haven’t spoken to since we were teenagers,’ he laughed. ‘I bought the place from my parents when they moved into North Springs.’
‘Wow, never thought your parents would leave Port Landon.’
Jason gestured toward the leather couch. ‘Mom has glaucoma and can’t drive anymore, so they bought an apartment there. Closer to more amenities.’ He lowered himself onto the loveseat. ‘I never thought you’d show back up here. Especially on my doorstep.’
‘I should’ve paid you a visit long before now,’ Branch admitted, sheepish. ‘I’m sorry, Jay.’
Jason regarded his soda can absently. ‘Word got around you were in town a few times over the years,’ he explained. ‘And I knew you were here for Grandma Addie’s funeral, but by then I didn’t know if you wanted to see any of us or not.’
She was Grandma Addie to everyone, and Branch’s grandmother would have gladly taken in every one of his friends as honorary grandchildren if she had the chance. Which only made Branch’s chest tighten more. ‘That’s why you weren’t at the funeral. Because you didn’t think I would want you there?’ His friend didn’t have to answer. The truth shadowed his gaze.
‘We didn’t want to make it harder for you.’
He’d spent those few days in a grief-stricken haze, but Branch remembered vividly wishing he had friends left to stand beside him as he said his final goodbyes to the woman who’d raised him like a son. It made so much sense now that he was sitting here, face to face with the man who had been his friend for more years than he realized. A man who’d been his friend even when Branch thought he didn’t have any friends left.
‘I’m sorry I made you think you shouldn’t come to the funeral,’ Branch choked out. Clearing his voice, he set the soda down, fearful he would drop it. ‘She would’ve wanted you there,’ he added. ‘I wanted you there. I’m sorry, Jay.’
Jason nodded. He knew that. He had always been the level-headed and forgiving one in their group. ‘I got to see her over the years. She was aware that she was family in my eyes, too. I’ve got no regrets, man.’
Of course he didn’t. Jason Forrester had lived by the motto that life was too short to regret the past and dwell on what couldn’t be changed. Branch had always wished he was a little more like his friend. Probably now more than ever.
‘You can’t say the same.’ It wasn’t a question, but Jason wasn’t reprimanding him or judging him, either.
‘Nah, I suppose I can’t,’ Branch replied. ‘Looking back on it all now, I know I could have handled it all differently. But when everyone started to turn against me—’
‘No one turned against you,’ Jason cut in. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. ‘At least, not everyone. I’ll bet that’s how it felt, but everyone didn’t turn against you after the accident. Kait did. But to you, Kait was everyone back then.’
‘Things were never going to be the same for me here after that,’ Branch explained. ‘It didn’t matter what was true and what wasn’t. I was always going to be the kid that hit one of Port Landon’s own with my truck.’
Jason sighed, letting his head sag slightly. ‘Man, you were eighteen and you weren’t paying attention. And frankly, the guy’s still walking around town acting like he’s king of the world, so I really think you need to give yourself a break. It was what, ten years ago?’
‘Eleven.’ It had been an accident, pure and simple. A fleeting moment of preoccupation, too concerned about getting an intoxicated schoolmate home, too caught up in his own thoughts to fully take in his surroundings. Nothing would have ever led Branch to purposely use his vehicle as a weapon, though. Nothing. ‘I was stone cold sober, man. I have no idea what he was doing behind my pickup, but I did not hit him on purpose, and I was not drunk.’
‘I believed you then, and I believe you now.’ Jason took a long drink from his soda and set it down on the coffee table. ‘If it’s forgiveness you’re looking for from me, there’s nothing for me to forgive you for. Maybe you should try forgiving yourself for a change.’
Branch didn’t know if that was possible, but knowing he had a friend now, after all these years, went a long way in helping him feel better about being back in town. ‘So, we’re good, you and I?’
A slow grin spread across his friend’s face. ‘We’ve been good all this time. All you had to do was show up so I could tell you.’ Jason picked his soda can up and held it out toward Branch, humor alight in his eyes. ‘Next time things go south around here, do me a favor and don’t run north. Deal?’
Branch couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. ‘Deal. So, you know I work up north, then. In Canada.’
‘Grandma Addie went on and on about it. She didn’t like that you were gone for such long periods of time or that the area was remote as all get out, but she was sure to let everybody know that you were some hotshot engineer in northern Canada.’
That sounded about right. Leave it to his grandmother to make a remote area in the most northern part of Alberta sound glamorous. It was anything but, and far enough north that the best way to access it was by airplane, but he was paid well for his time. The two-weeks-on, two-weeks-off schedule wasn’t for the faint of heart, but the seclusion had been exactly what he’d been looking for when he left.
‘It’s a good gig,’ he replied, nodding. ‘And they’ve been good about giving me some time off to deal with Grandma Addie’s place.’
‘So, you’re here for a while?’
‘Until the end of the month.’
‘You’ll be around for Christmas. It’ll almost be like old times,’ Jason laughed.
Almost. Branch caught that part. Because this time there was no Grandma Addie to pull off the festivities and be the glue that held them together. This time, it was just Branch, with a ticking time clock that reminded him he would be leaving again in a matter of weeks. This time, he didn’t know if he would be coming back to Port Landon.
He sunk back into the couch cushions, getting comfortable. ‘Never took you for a holiday kind of guy.’
His friend shrugged. ‘I’m more of a Halloween kind of man, myself, but there isn’t a person in their right mind who’s going to turn down the homemade food that comes once folks start getting that Christmas spirit.’
A laugh erupted from Branch, and he shook his head. He missed this. Having someone to talk to. About nothing. About everything. In a way, it was as though no time had passed at all since they had last seen each other. An easy silence ensued, and he could feel the tension subsiding in his shoulders.
‘I saw her, you know.’ Branch didn’t realize he was smiling until Jason’s eyebrows arched. ‘At the diner.’
‘I don’t see a black eye, so neither of the Davenport women punched you first and asked questions later.’ Jason pressed his lips together.
‘Janna works there, too, now?’ Kait’s older sister hadn’t liked him before the accident. Afterward, her dislike turned into full-fledged disgust. ‘I didn’t see her, just Kait.’
‘Imagine that, you only seeing Kait in a room full of people,’ Jason joked. ‘Some things never change.’
‘It wasn’t like that,’ he argued, leaning forward to match his friend’s stance. ‘Things were different, obviously. But they were the same between us, too, if that makes sense.’ He raised his head and met Jason’s eyes squarely. ‘I don’t think it’s over, Jay.’
Jason’s eyes bulged and he let out a long breath. ‘Eleven years, Branch. Remember that. What in the world makes you think it’s not over?’
He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was something in the way Kait had tried so hard – too hard – to be defiant and distant. She was trying and failing, just like he was trying and failing to keep from loving her all over again. ‘Call it a gut feeling.’
Jason was obviously attempting to make him see how outlandish his train of thought was. ‘You haven’t seen her since you were a teenager, and you’re telling me, after one glimpse, you think she’ll take you back?’
‘I think there’s too much between us not to at least try.’
‘You always were a hard-headed one,’ Jason snickered. ‘Especially when it came to her.’
‘Like you said, she didn’t punch me or send her older sister after me, so I’ve got a thread of hope to hold on to.’ Branch downed the last of his soda, unable to hide his smirk.
‘That isn’t a thread of hope, man, that’s just proof of what I said earlier.’
Branch’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘What do you mean?’
Jason stood, taking the empty can from him. ‘Even Kait’s forgiven you for hitting Zach with your truck. It’s time for you to forgive yourself and move forward.’
Chapter 5
Kait
‘I don’t believe a thing that comes out of his mouth, Kait.’
‘I know.’ She huffed out a sigh. ‘You’ve said so five times since you sat down.’
Kait finished adding up the bill in front of her and pushed the calculator back under the counter. Using it as an excuse for a moment’s reprieve, she placed it into a vinyl check holder along with a couple of after-dinner mints and headed to the table by the window to drop it off, leaving Zach sitting at the counter to cool down.
She knew he wasn’t thrilled to know Branch was back in town. She couldn’t blame him considering their sordid past. She wasn’t even sure why she had mentioned speaking with him yesterday. Branch Sterling had never been Zach’s favorite topic of conversation, unless he was belittling him or reminding Kait of what he’d done to her. And what he’d done to him.
Like she could ever forget. Vivid recollections of the months that followed the accident were never far from her mind. She might not have been the one behind the steering wheel, but Kait harbored acidic guilt just the same. She hadn’t even been at the party that night, and she certainly hadn’t witnessed the event that left Zach with a fractured leg and countless bruises. It didn’t matter. She would never forget Zach’s emotional retelling of what should have been an innocent celebration of their upcoming graduation, his words so clear that her memory played tricks on her sometimes, as though she was plagued by her own memories and not the recounting of someone else’s.
The heated exchange between Branch and Zach. The way Branch had slammed the passenger door of his truck, so frustrated and final before he climbed into the driver’s seat. Before he revved the engine and threw the truck in reverse …
She could see it all so clearly even though she had never seen it at all. Each time she thought of it, her mind struggled to pair Branch’s face with the man who got into that driver’s seat. It just wasn’t the Branch Sterling she’d known, or the Branch Sterling she’d loved.
And still, it had happened. Which was why Kait had remained by Zach’s side and helped him in every way she could, from physiotherapy to mundane errands, to the point of fatigue and burnout. She couldn’t do enough for him after seeing what her love for Branch had ultimately put him through.
Still, after vowing to be there for Zach and see him through his recovery, there was one thing she would never be able to do for him despite her best efforts. With all their time together and close proximity while he healed, Zach’s feelings for Kait only flourished. And while she wanted to feel as strongly for him as he did for her, that overpowering sense of love and companionship never bloomed. A year passed by before they attempted to formally date, and it took two more for her to admit it to herself, but Kait would never be capable of loving Zach the way he deserved to be loved.
‘I’ll bet he knew you were here at the diner all along,’ he suggested before Kait could even make it back around the counter. ‘Next, he’ll be saying the stars aligned and the heavens opened, revealing his path to you.’
She offered him a levelled stare. ‘You’re being dramatic.’
‘The guy hit me with a truck after warning me to stay away from you. Doesn’t get any more dramatic than that.’
Fighting back the urge to cringe, Kait focused on reorganizing the menus instead of having to meet his gaze. ‘I know, Zach.’ It’s the gazillionth time you’ve mentioned that to me, too. ‘I just think it’s time to stop being so angry, you know? Years have passed. He seems … different.’ She didn’t know how to explain it. There was something in Branch’s eyes that not only proved he wasn’t feigning his utter surprise at the sight of her, but also hinted of a maturity far beyond the mere decade that spanned between their teenage years and now.
Branch Sterling wasn’t even thirty yet, but he had lost everything and everyone who had meant something to him at one point in his young life or another. Some losses were the result of his teenage antics, but most were tragic, painful, crushing blows that the average person wouldn’t survive unscathed individually, let alone combined. And yet, he was here, back in town, and facing every demon he had.
She wondered if she was one of them.
Zach scoffed. ‘Come on, you know better. He isn’t different. You just want him to be.’ She turned and glared at him, causing Zach to reach out a hand and grip her fingers in his. ‘I don’t mean that as a bad thing,’ he added in a softer tone. ‘It’s your nature. You see the good in everyone. You’re a nurturer, and you always want to help. But, Kait, some people can’t be helped.’
It was a strange feeling to have someone conjure up defeat and molten determination in her at the same time. Defeat, because she would never get through to Zach and his pent-up rage where Branch was concerned, but also determination, because she wanted desperately for Branch to prove him wrong.
‘It’s been eleven years.’ She sounded wilted and weak, and the words came out on a sigh.
‘It has,’ he replied, ‘And we’ve moved on from all things revolving around Branch Sterling. By the end of the month, we can go back to our lives and pretend like he was never here at all.’
Slowly, Kait withdrew her hand from his. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at him, and she certainly didn’t agree with him.
Something strong and undeniable pulsed within her, something she had once thought dormant. And that something told her, now that Branch was back in town, things were never going to be the same again.
Kait was disappointed that Janna and their coworker, Eve, had finished decorating the Christmas tree during the morning shift. Even the sparkly red and green garlands had been meticulously strung across the front of the counter and around the trim of the main door. She didn’t dare touch the box of remaining Christmas decorations that had been shoved under the counter by her feet with a handwritten sign in Janna’s recognizable scrawl that read Don’t touch! Her sister’s need for control knew no bounds.
It left Kait with little left to occupy herself once Natasha, the other waitress who rounded out their four-person waitstaff team extraordinaire, had left for the evening. The clock hadn’t even struck seven o’clock yet. There was still more than an hour to go before she could lock the doors, finish cleaning the front of the restaurant, and head home to the three-bedroom house she rented with Janna and her twins.
Kait didn’t do idle well. Sitting down, relaxing, giving herself a moment to breathe … that only resulted in letting her thoughts take over and leaving her with more frustration than resolution. It was better that she remained occupied, doing even the most repetitive, mundane tasks in order to keep her body moving and her mind busy. At the diner, that meant unnecessary cleaning and reorganizing. At home, well, there was never any chance of quiet time with a pair of two-year-old twin boys around.
On second thought, maybe she should take the opportunity of a five-minute break for what it was. A gift.
Her one and only table, a couple with a young boy, gave her a thumbs-up from across the room after she held up the coffee pot in askance, so Kait went ahead and poured herself a full cup. Coffee in the evening – a recipe for a poor night’s sleep if she ever heard one.