Broken Hero

I don’t have time for Lucy Rhodes.

I’m a former Marine, a ranch owner, and if my sister’s to be believed, a hermit. Since I returned to my small home town, I’ve spent every waking moment turning my family’s ranch into a hotel. The absolute last thing I need is a blonde complication.

But then little Lucy Rhodes comes to town for the summer. She’s running from demons of her own, and somehow, she runs straight into me.

She awakens something in me that I thought gone.

She’s young and beautiful, sure, but it’s more than that. She doesn’t look at me like I’m damaged. She listens when I speak, and when she opens up to me, I know I want to spend my life protecting her.

But as we grow closer, one thing feels inevitable… I’m going to let her down somehow, just like I’ve let everyone in this town down. I don’t know how to be the man she deserves.

I’m not the man I once was.

****

Lucy

“Next stop, Claremont!”

I watch through the window as the town rolls into view. Two-story houses and tree-lined streets, an iron-wrought lamppost on every street corner. I haven’t been back here for years-not since I was a teenager. But it looks just like I remember. Just as small, just as cute, and just as empty.

I shoulder my heavy bag and make my way off the bus. Everything I own is in it; my whole life. In the span of a few weeks, I’ve gone from a woman with a boyfriend, friends, a job, and an apartment, to a woman with nothing. It’s not an attractive look for a woman who’s nearly twenty-five. The only part I can focus on for the moment is the no job part. I need to find one, ASAP.

“Luce!”

I spot my aunt and uncle immediately-they’re the only ones waiting by the desolate bus stop. My throat closes as I see them. Auntie Claire is as rosy-cheeked as ever, wrapped snugly in one of her rainbow-colored ponchos. Uncle Phil is waving so vigorously that the watch on his arm is twisting with every movement. Oh, how I’ve missed them.

Claire laughs when I tell her. “We’ve missed you too, sweetie. And we’re so happy you’re back.”

Her drawl is achingly familiar and more pronounced than my own. Nearly six years away in the big city does that to you, not to mention a boyfriend who used to mock it when he’d been drinking. I had tried to fit in real fast after that.

Uncle Phil hoists my bag into the back of their small van, and we’re off through the quiet little town.

“Claremont looks pretty much the same.”

Phil snorts from the driver’s seat. “Don’t let appearances fool you. The old pharmacy on Fourth Street and Maple has closed. It went right out of business.”

“And there’s a new bird-watching society visiting,” Claire adds. “There is some sort of warbler in these parts, hasn’t been seen for a hundred years, and it’s thrown the Ornithological Society into a tizzy.”

Phil taps the steering wheel. “A sparrow. It was a sparrow.”

“Oh yes, that’s right. It was a sparrow.”

I grin. “Wow, that’s quite a discovery.”

“It was featured in National Geographic,” Phil says proudly.

“Are you hungry, dear? You must be hungry.”

“A little. It was a long bus ride.”

“Just as well, then. Let’s drop off your things at the studio and then we’ll grab something to eat. How about Ricky’s? Do you still remember that old place?”

I lean in between the front seats. “How could anyone who has ever spent a day in Claremont forget about Ricky’s?”

Phil chuckles. “Quite right.”

“Is it still the town hotspot?”

“Oh, even more,” Claire says. “They’ve expanded the menu. You’ll see.”

Phil parks the van outside the bakery. The hand-carved wooden sign is still as beautiful as it was the last time I saw it, nearly five years ago. By the Rhode. It took me a while to figure out the pun when I was a kid. Located right by Main Street, owned and operated by Claire and Phil Rhodes… Typical of Uncle Phil’s humor, and the kind of inside joke only people in this town would appreciate.

The window displays are full of cookies. There are sugar cookies decorated with colorful icing, cupcakes with elaborate frosting, and of course-their signature chocolate chip cookies. They’re massive and always stuffed with whatever Auntie Claire fancied that day. Peanut butter cups… coconut flakes… toffee… pieces of candied apple. They’re legendary.

“I’ve missed this place.”

“And it’s missed you.” Phil grins. “Come on, Luce. You have to check out the studio.”

The bakery smells the same; sugar and flour, vanilla and chocolate. It’s the apple of my aunt and uncle’s eye and the beating heart of this town. The morning rush for my uncle’s donuts-he only makes them once a week-is out of this world.

Claire leads the way up the narrow stairs at the back. “We finished this just a month ago. You’ll be the first to stay here. Isn’t it perfect? A Rhodes girl actually staying in By the Rhode… fancy that!”

“Thanks again for helping me out like this. I honestly don’t know what I’d-”

Claire cuts me off. “Sweetie, don’t you worry about a thing. That’s what family is for. Besides, your uncle and I are just so happy to have you here with us for a while. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need.”

My throat tightens again. She’s so like my mother in that moment, the same almond-shaped eyes, the same kind smile. There’s some grey in her hair now, a few wrinkles around the eyes, but if anything, it’s only made her more beautiful. I spent some of the best summers of my life here, in this small town, with her-far away from my own loving but busy parents.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

She squeezes my arm. “Come now, honey. Let’s get you settled so we can go get some food.”

The small attic is hardly recognizable. The dusty corners where I remember playing with my cousins, chasing them around bags of flour and old sieves, are gone. It’s a transformation worthy of an HGTV show. There’s even white-stained shiplap on the walls. I know of at least one interior design specialist who would be very proud.

Claire sits down on the small sofa. “What do you think, Luce?”

“It’s perfect. It’s so pretty. Did you and Phil really do all this?”

“We had some help, of course. Gavin from the hardware store helped with the railing over there, and Oliver kindly donated some wood from last year’s batch of trees, when they cleared areas of the ranch. And-”

I laugh. “Okay, okay. I remember this ‘it takes a village’ mentality. If I let you continue, you’ll be citing the woman at the grocery store for her invaluable services.”

Claire smiles. “It does take a village. I know that a ton of them will be happy to see you again.”Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

“Auntie, I imagine half of them don’t even remember me.”

“Of course they do! Phil and I talk about you all the time, so they could hardly forget, even if they wanted to.”