His grandfather’s wizened gaze, cloudy with age, slipped to Campbell, as listless and relaxed as his guidance, but Campbell wasn’t fooled. Razor-sharp and with intent. Advice with teeth. “Do what you haven’t really done, even though you’re sitting here. Comehome.”
“John Nelson?—”
“I don’t want to move to Atlanta or watch this land leave the family, and deep down, neither do you. But I’m also not going to fight you, because my time for decision-making and family management is over.” He took a slow sip. “That’s why I signed everything over to you when your dad passed.”
Campbell wondered how many times his heart could break. Every day since coming back, he’dfeltso much.
Too much.
Watching Kit try on new clothes, flashing a lovable, goofy metal smile. Watching John Nelson struggle to climb the stairs to his bedroom each night, gripping a banister everyone in the family had once glided down as a child. Watching Fontana in the mill, eyes wide with wonder as she stared through that stupid glass ceiling.
His favorite room in the entire, rambling place—if he’d had the guts to tell her.
Which he hadn’t.
Campbell was considering changing all their lives to keep his steady. Keep the familyshipsteady. And he was the captain now, right? In charge of everything.
Coming back to Promise and making a life here was an impossible wish.
A fantasy.
John Nelson circled his hands around his mug, linked his fingers, and squeezed. “I made so many mistakes with you and your cousins. Heck, how did I know what poor parents my sons would make? Miriam and I raised them to be good men…but something got lost along the way. Your father, Vietnam messed him up. Anger issues the moment he stepped off that transport. William?” He shrugged and clicked his tongue against his teeth. “There, I don’t know. He never cared a lick about being a father, plain and simple. Hard thing when you have three sons.”
“We don’t have to go over this again,” he whispered, truly wishing they wouldn’t.
“Maybe I want to, Campbell Loman, maybe Ineedto. I should have stepped in more often, but no one wants parenting advice from their father. Now all my grandkids are off somewhere. Run off. Justin comes into town every once and a while for the gallery, and I suspect he wants to come home, but the rest of you—” He snapped his fingers.
Campbell had no answers and instead returned his gaze to the fields.
“You’re so conflicted about your legacy, your place here. Twisted up inside. Always have been. Celia just blew the lid off and lit the fuse. Maybe it’s harder for you because Justin, Dallas, Will only have bad memories, not the land”—he gestured again with his mug—“this house. The mill, which you think is a noose around your neck. One your mama tightens from the grave.”
He wanted to disagree, but conflicted summed it up nicely.
Promise—this land, this house, the mill—had always made him want to reach,take, then push away with fierce fury. Contradictory wants, contradictory needs. Fifteen years had passed, and nothing had changed.
Coveting this place the way he did, soul-deep, still made him sick to his stomach.
He loved andhatedin equal measure.
“I talked to my lawyer about drawing up papers to sell Fontana the studio and an acre of land surrounding it. That magical Eden of hers.” Campbell stared into his mug, hoping his face betrayed little. “If you’re okay with it. I know how much she’s paying in rent. The mortgage will come in about even. I ran the numbers every way I could think of.”
John Nelson came out of his slouch. “That so?”
Campbell nudged his glasses higher. His two-hours-sleep eyeballs couldn’t handle contacts today. “I’d give it to her seeing as it isn’t worth much, but that would start a war I’m not prepared to fight. One IknowI can’t win.”
“Stubborn, that girl.”
Her breathless little moans over the phone last night blew through his senses, warming him to his bones. “Very.”
“So you don’t have the heart to kick her off what’s basically become her land.”
Campbell finished his coffee, tilted the mug, and watched a lone, russet drop land on the marble step. “Who said anything about heart?”
His grandfather nodded like he was timing it to a beat. “If you say so, tough guy.”
“It’s business, John Nelson, nothing more.”
“If business explains the way you two were looking at each other at your party, well, all-righty then.”
