Austin - Piper Stone Page 0,39

explosion would remain with me for the rest of my life. I’d shut down the rest of the world, including the men who’d gone through the same thing. It had been the only way I’d been able to attempt to heal.

Sadly, it had become obvious that I’d failed.

As I powered down the twisted road, something caught my attention. A for-sale sign. Slowing, I pulled over just long enough to think about what I was doing. Maybe purchasing a place of my own was a good idea. Turning around, I shifted into first, rolling toward the gravel driveway, unable to see much of anything given the significant overgrowth. What the hell? It couldn’t hurt to take a look.

I eased up the winding driveway, low-hanging tree limbs smacking me in the face. When I finally reached the house, I took a deep breath. The place was in serious need of work. Obviously abandoned for some time, the small two-story was at least twenty years old, if not more. I yanked off my helmet, scanning the perimeter. The overgrown shrubs had likely been cared for years ago. From where I remained on the bike, I noticed a barn in the distance, the fence in as sad a shape as the rest of the house.

After cutting the engine, I climbed off, leaving the helmet. I walked closer, studying the foundation. While I was no expert on houses, I’d worked construction before enlisting in the Marines. At least I’d be able to handle the majority of renovations.

The steps were cracked, some of the front porch deck boards rotten. At least two of the windows were broken, the thin boards used to cover them certainly not providing any real security. I peered in through the windows, able to see what appeared to be a gorgeous stone fireplace leading to a cathedral ceiling. From what I could tell, there were wooden floors as well.

I remained curious, stepping off the porch and walking around to the side. The front was in much worse shape, but the overgrowth continued all the way to the back. There’d once been a deck, although it had been removed at some point. But from what I could tell, the bones of the house were still pretty good. I shifted my attention to the barn, walking closer. It wasn’t large by any means, but maybe I’d be able to purchase a couple of horses.

My thoughts immediately drifted to Francesca. Just saying her name in my head brought a wave of desire. Shoving it aside, I continued my exploration, walking toward the bank of trees lining the property. There was a little path, once cobblestone but now overgrown with weeds and moss. Someone had loved the property a long time ago.

I walked through, inhaling the scents of the forest. Montana had always been home, the time spent overseas both grueling and lonely. I adored nature, had been the kid who stayed outside until dark almost every day.

When I noticed a clearing in the trees, I quickened my pace.

The sight in front of me after clearing the forest was breathtaking, the mountains a backdrop but located only thirty feet away was a beautiful lake. As I walked closer, a smile immediately crossed my face. It was crystal clear. Pristine. Perfect.

Perfect for a family.

The thought was a jolt to my system. What the fuck? I’d never wanted a family in my freaking life. Why now? Because I’d been homesick? Fuck that. I crouched down, able to see a few fish and the amazing sound of water trickling over rocks was enough to give me a shiver. Huh. It was likely out of my price range but what the hell. It wouldn’t hurt to call the number on the for-sale sign. After picking up a smooth rock, I rolled it between my fingers, feeling damn close to the property. My father had once told me that I would know the exact place to hang my hat when I found it.

He was right.

I remained where I was for several minutes, almost becoming lost in the tranquility. But another pang of guilt rushed into my system, another stabbing knife reminding me that I didn’t deserve to be happy. I rose to my feet, tossing the rock with all my might. What the hell was I doing?

I hurried back to the house and toward my bike, stopping short then hissing. One phone call. I didn’t need to go any further than that. The sign in the window appeared to be the