probably not a good idea. I can find a hotel outside of town or something. It’s probably better that way. There’s less chance of running into Tessa.”
The table fell silent. The quiet was so deafening that Erin squirmed. Burke was staring down at his empty plate, and Erin felt sick to her stomach. She didn’t want him here. But she didn’t want him bunking at a hotel either.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Kitt frowning. Aunt Lenora stood to her feet, drawing everyone’s attention.
“You both are being ridiculous. Burke has nowhere to go, and we have an inn full of empty rooms. He’s staying here. And that’s final.”
Aunt Lenora’s announcement silenced any further protestations. Erin didn’t like it, but while it was her home, she didn’t own it and had little say about who stayed and who didn’t. Aunt Lenora had raised both Gavin and Burke in their teenage years. After losing Gavin, it would make perfect sense that the old woman might want Burke to stay.
But it didn’t change Erin’s feelings on the matter.
She stood to her feet, picked up her half-eaten plate of pancakes and carried it to the sink.
“I better get going,” she announced. “Kitt, behave for Aunt Lenora.” She didn’t really need to caution Kitt to behave, but she said it anyway.
Burke frowned. “Go where?”
Erin said nothing. She exited the room, pretending as though she hadn’t heard, and left it to Aunt Lenora to answer him if she chose.
BURKE WATCHED ERIN LEAVE, disappointed by her abrupt departure. It was obvious she didn’t want him here. The feeling was mutual. He’d never felt at home at the Moontide. But as much as he didn’t want to remain at the B&B, he knew he didn’t have the luxury of rejecting Aunt Lenora’s offer. He still had a relatively steady income from royalties of his photos, as well as a series of travel books he was contributing to. Yet he was by no means wealthy, and so he needed to get back to work at some point.
He’d pushed off any jobs in order to stay in Findlay Roads and plan the wedding. He and Tessa had agreed that he could maybe start traveling again in the autumn, after their wedding and honeymoon and after they’d settled into a marital routine.
He’d sold the boat that he’d called home for the last year and a half, which left him effectively homeless. As much as he loathed being at the Moontide for more than a night or two, it looked like he’d have to accept Aunt Lenora’s suggestion and remain there for a bit longer. He had to regroup and determine what to do next.
“I’m glad you’ve decided to stay.”
Burke looked to Aunt Lenora. She’d resumed her seat and was cutting daintily into a small stack of pancakes.
Burke hesitated. As much as he appreciated her generosity and had no choice but take her up on her offer, he still hated doing so.
“Aunt Lenora, I don’t want to put you out. Maybe Erin’s right, what if you need the room?”
Aunt Lenora snorted. “Have you taken a look at the guest register? There haven’t been any new bookings in three weeks.” The old woman slid a glance at Kitt and frowned. “My feet are cold. Kitt, would you be a dear and go fetch me my slippers?”
Kitt looked from Lenora to Burke and back again. Then, without a word, he stood and left the room. Aunt Lenora waited until he was gone before she spoke again.
“Erin tries too hard,” she suddenly declared.
Burke shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”
Aunt Lenora reached for the syrup bottle. “She’s been trying to drum up business. The local book club meets here once a month. They used to go to the library, but when they started complaining it was too drafty, she offered them use of the inn instead...for a nominal fee that includes scones and tea.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Burke said, uneasy about where the conversation was headed.
Aunt Lenora shook her head. “She quit her job, at Callahan’s.”
“I know.”
She continued shaking her head. “That young chef who owns it, Connor...he was sorry to see her go. Told her she was welcome back any time.”
Burke didn’t speak. Aunt Lenora obviously had something on her mind, and he figured he’d just have to wait for her to reach her point. He’d witnessed it a time or two in the past—when she had something to share, she rambled on with steadfast determination until she reached her conclusion.
“I worry that she spends too much of her time here. With me and Kitt. She should go out more.”
“Well, where did she go just now?”
Aunt Lenora looked sad. “To the lighthouse. She goes there to feel closer to him.”
Burke leaned back in his chair. “Him?”
“Gavin.”
“Oh.” Burke felt the familiar tug of grief...and shame. He cleared his throat. “Why the lighthouse?”
Aunt Lenora shrugged. “You’d have to ask her.”
Burke didn’t reply even as the conversation faded into silence. Aunt Lenora worked her way through her pancakes while Burke sipped his coffee. He had a feeling the old woman wasn’t finished, and his suspicions were confirmed a second later when she spoke up once more.
“You should talk to her.”
“Me? Why? What would I say?”
“Tell her not to worry so much about me, or the inn. Tell her it’s okay to go out, to be with other people, to be...happy again.”
Burke wasn’t exactly comfortable with this directive, but before he could formulate a response, Aunt Lenora switched topics.
“And how about you? Have you heard from Tessa?”
The reminder of his runaway bride pierced his pride. “No,” he admitted. “I haven’t.” He’d checked his phone before heading downstairs for breakfast. There had been several texts, expressing sympathy, including one from Harper, Tessa’s sister. But nothing from his fiancée. No texts of explanation. No voicemails saying she was sorry or offering an explanation. Only silence.
“Then you’ll stay.”
“Aunt Lenora, I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”
She ignored him.
“I can pay you, if it helps, since your bookings are down—”
“You can work for your keep.”
Aunt Lenora knew him too well. When he’d first come to live with her, at fourteen, he was already scarred by too many relatives who made him and Gavin feel like a burden. He didn’t appreciate handouts, couldn’t abide feeling indebted to others. By offering him the option to work for his room and board, she’d eliminated one of his strongest objections.
And he couldn’t share the other one with her.
“I don’t know,” he hedged, still trying to find a way out. “Maybe it would be better if I just left town. I mean, with Tessa here and all...”
Aunt Lenora made a face. “You cannot run forever.” Just then, Kitt reentered the kitchen, carrying a pair of fuzzy slippers. He took them to Aunt Lenora and without a word, placed them at her feet where she could easily slide her toes inside.
“Thank you, Kitt.” She patted his hand and met Burke’s gaze. “You know, there’s some drywall that needs replaced in the upstairs hallway. I think your uncle Burke planned to work on that this