Along the Broken Road by Heather Burch Page A

that had to come out. Her and the fact he needed to change her mind about things she’d been resigned to for a long time.
    Charlee stood. “Let’s go home.”
    Ian swallowed. She’d chosen the word, home , specifically. He already knew her well enough to know that. Home was the safe place. Home was where you worked out your problems. Home was . . . it wasn’t his home and it would never be. But that was okay. He appreciated the gesture. Ian painted on a smile. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

    Charlee stood at the kitchen window staring out over the hub. Wynona and Wilma were placing a row of white lights around the umbrella of one of the round tables. The new lights gave a soft glow to the space. Charlee loved it. She loved the hub and the platform where four round patio tables anchored the dance floor. The dance floor was what Wynona had dubbed the large square space, and it really did resemble a dance floor. Of course, it had never been used for that purpose since she’d opened the retreat. Charlee grinned as she watched Wilma and Wynona string lights on the other tables. Tiki torches in full flame also helped illuminate the space and kept the bugs and mosquitoes to a minimum. Along with the whimsical decorations of a hundred artists who’d left their mark, the dinner space looked magical. This was one of her favorite times of the day because it was her opportunity to recharge, relax, and just enjoy. It was the one time of day she felt most connected to the purpose of Marilee Retreat. It was when she was just another artist, not the proprietor. Not the fixer of things, not the redeemer of lost items or the smoother of arguments.
    Behind her, standing at the long stainless steel counter, King Edward continued fixing his spaghetti and tuna. “What do you think of the soldier?” she asked as she turned to face him.
    He pursed his mouth and shrugged.
    The smell filling the kitchen was slightly nauseating. Charlee chewed her cheek and thought about her new hire. “Seems kind of sad to me.” He’d proven himself on the water heater, no question. If she was honest with herself—which she’d already decided not to be—she enjoyed his company. He reminded her of her brothers, only Carlisle was not as stiff and seemed less neurotic. Easy to talk to. In fact, she’d almost told him about Richard. At the thought of his name, the nausea increased. Richard, her epic mistake. He’d sailed into Charlee’s life and swept her off her feet. He’d acted interested in her artwork, the retreat, every detail of her life. It all seemed to fascinate Richard. For once, Charlee had felt like the center of someone’s attention. Until she found him at the Neon Moon with a redhead. That night, she learned his real intentions where Charlee was concerned. It wrecked her. And she wasn’t one to recover quickly.
    “I’m not certain the soldier isn’t an ax murder.”
    Charlee chuckled, letting the tension of Richard’s betrayal go. She had more immediate things to ponder. Like Carlisle. “Well, we don’t know for sure. I tried to call Jeremiah about him, but never got through.”
    “Jeremiah is in North Carolina, right?”
    “Yes. He’s on a hunting trip for another week, then he’ll be back at base.” It helped knowing at least one of her brothers was on American soil. Now, if she could just get the other three home. “As far as your thoughts, I’m pretty sure Ian isn’t an ax murderer.”
    “We’ll all end up dead like those kids in the horror flicks.”
    Charlee spun and leaned her weight against the sink. “Don’t be so dramatic. Ian’s my hire. My responsibility. You’re not going to die a Hollywood death and as far as who I put to work on my property, it’s none of my brother’s business. I don’t have to call him. Get his approval.”
    “Hate to tell you, but you had already decided that when you first met Ian.” King Edward grunted as he came toward her. “Char Char Baby. Can you hold the strainer since