Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I set my fork down, pancakes forgotten because the lead ball in my stomach has quelled my hunger.
“Last I heard, she’s still in Zurich,” Wade says to Joe before stuffing a forkful of omelet into his mouth. He chews and then looks at me. “Right, Trey? I mean… we haven’t seen her in years.”
“Far as I know,” I mutter, sipping my coffee. Just the mention of her name sends a ripple through me. Old memories stir—sweet, painful and everything in between—images of Holland laughing, riding, smiling down at me…
I force the reflections away and set my cup down. I pick up my fork, resolute to finish my breakfast. “Kat and Abby have kept in contact with her through Facebook although they say she doesn’t ever really post, so it’s hard to know what she’s doing.”
“Once she got out of Shelbyville, she didn’t look back, did she?” Joe muses with a chuckle. “Probably best for her. Wasn’t no future for her here.”
Wade nods. “Yeah… guess she was destined for bigger things. But still, I imagine she’ll be back for the funeral. Lyle was her father, after all.”
I’m not so sure about that. She had zero relationship with her alcoholic father and a not much better one with her doormat of a mother.
But I find myself silently hoping she does. I’m not sure what I’d say, or even if she’d want to see me, but part of me needs to know how she’s been doing. I mean, the entire Blackburn family will gather round her in support. We’ll all be at the funeral and she’ll be welcomed back with open arms. I’m sure she’ll be glad to see her somewhat adoptive family, given the amount of time she spent on our farm.
Well, she’ll want to see most of us.
I’m sure I’m the exception to that.
Joe turns to talk to the man next to him and Wade leans toward me. “It’s weird to think Holland may come into town. I mean… it’s been what? Eleven years?”
“Yeah,” I say vaguely, staring into my coffee.
“Hey Trey,” my brother says, and I turn to look at him. “Remember that time after I graduated high school and I had the biggest crush on Holland? But then she left and never came back.”
The corner of my mouth pulls up in a smile. “Yeah… I remember.”
Wade shakes his head, his eyes warm with fond memories. “She was definitely the one that got away.”
Yes, she was.
CHAPTER 2
Holland
It’s been nearly eighteen hours since I left Zurich, with layovers that felt longer each time. The exhaustion clings to me like a second skin, the desire for a hot shower and a decent meal growing with every minute. Luckily the process to pick up my rental car was fairly easy and the exit out of the city was well before rush hour, so traffic isn’t bad.
My mind drifts as I take in the lush green expanse of the Kentucky hills welcoming me home. It’s been so long and though I now live in one of the most beautiful places on earth, I can’t deny that the rolling pastures and neatly fenced horse farms tighten my chest with nostalgia. Despite having left all this behind years ago, a lump forms in my throat as the familiar beauty tugs at something deep within. I haven’t missed it, not consciously, but there’s an undeniable pull now that I’m back.
My phone rings through the car’s Bluetooth, the screen flashing a Zurich number. It’s Annika, one of my team members back at Global Strategies Ltd., where I work as a senior business consultant. “Holland, sorry for the early call, but we’ve got a slight hiccup with the Milan project.” Her voice is crisp, tinged with urgency. She’s a Brit who just moved to Zurich last year.
I switch to autopilot, the business part of my brain kicking in despite the jet lag. “What’s the issue?”
“There’s a discrepancy in the projected budgets versus the actuals. The variance is outside acceptable limits, and the client is questioning our oversight.”
“Run a full audit on last quarter’s entries,” I suggest, navigating the winding roads that lead deeper into Shelby County. “Flag any outliers for review and schedule a Zoom meeting for us to go over everything. I’ll make myself available anytime tomorrow.”
“Will do. Cheers, Holland.”
Annika disconnects without another sentiment and I love her for it. She’s the most efficient assistant I’ve ever had and I’m not sure I would have actually come home if it weren’t for my confidence that she will keep my office running while I’m gone.
I settle back into the car’s silence, broken only by the soft hum of the engine when I accelerate. I don’t bother with music, wanting to drink in every green blade of grass and inch of blue sky before me. I want to lie under a sprawling shade tree, and it’s then that I realize I’m driving past Blackburn Farms.