Making His Way Home by Kathryn Springer

was that he’d hoped his mom would feel better if she wasn’t constantly surrounded with reminders of his father. Or that it was easier to keep an eye on his younger siblings—and feed them—if he could pop in for a few minutes between his other duties.
    Cap had given in, claiming he could use the extra income, but Cole had a suspicion the retired Air Force pilot had grasped the situation. Shortly after Cole’s family moved in, Cap had given him more responsibilities. Groomed him to take over the charter business when he retired.
    Cole had done most of the remodeling himself in the evenings to make the transformation easier on his brothers and sister. He’d painted Bettina’s room her favorite shade of cotton candy pink. Roamed the aisles of local home improvement stores until he found a wallpaper border printed with bright red fire trucks for his brothers. He’d even planted some flowers in the strip of dirt between the building and the driveway.
    But no matter how hard he’d tried, there was one thing Cole hadn’t been able to duplicate.
    The life they’d had before their dad died.
    He walked over to the stone fireplace and looked at the portraits arranged above the mantel. One was an informal photograph of Grace’s entire family, including B.C., that had been taken under an apple tree in the Everseas’ backyard.
    His gaze lingered on a photograph of Grace, wearing a white mortarboard with a gold tassel and a knee-length satin gown.
    If things had gone the way they’d planned, Cole would have graduated with Mirror Lake’s senior class that day.
    He’d thought about calling Grace to congratulate her, but that was the day one of his brothers had cut his foot open on a piece of glass while playing in the parking lot. He’d ended up loading all three of his siblings into the car and driving to the E.R. Three hours and ten stitches later, Cole had realized it was too late to call Grace.
    In more ways than one.
    Any thoughts of a future together had been officially put to rest that day. There was no way he could leave his family. Not until his mom got better and his siblings were old enough to take care of themselves.
    As the days went by, and then the months, Cole had never second-guessed his decision.
    Until now.
    “Are these your nephews?” He shifted his attention to another photograph.
    “My sister Ruth’s children.” Grace smiled. “Cameron is in second grade, and Hunter started kindergarten last fall.” She came to stand beside him and the delicate scent of her perfume teased his senses. “I can’t wait to see them next month. They call every Sunday evening to get a weekly critter update.”
    “Critter update?”
    “Frogs. Toads. Crickets. Snakes. They want to know what I’ve seen and where.” Grace reached out to straighten the oval frame, but Cole recognized it for what it was. An attempt to hide the tears shimmering in her eyes.
    “I’d like to know where you saw the snakes, too,” Cole said, just to see her smile again.
    It worked.
    “They’re more afraid of you—”
    “—than you are of them,” Cole finished. “I think I’ve heard those words before.”
    “You might have heard them, but I don’t think you ever believed them.”
    Grace’s teasing comment should have lightened the moment. Instead, the air became heavy, weighted down by shared memories. Cole tried to blame it on simple nostalgia. The alternative, that time and space hadn’t completely severed the connection that existed between them, was more than a little unsettling.
    Grace hadn’t given him any indication that she was prepared to take a trip down memory lane with him.
    In fact, given the way she’d tried to let him off the hook for the competition, it didn’t appear that she wanted to go anywhere with him.
    “I’m surprised your family hasn’t talked you into moving to Boston.” Cole deliberately steered the conversation back to safer ground.
    “They’ve tried,” Grace admitted. “Mom drops a few