Chapter 2: Brothers, Secrets, and Silver Hollow

That afternoon, Zach and I went looking for Grant. After three months away, it was about time to head home.

The house felt different, like it was holding its breath, waiting for the next big thing. Funny how a place can feel so restless.

“Why are you in such a rush, Mitch? Stay a few more days!”

Grant genuinely wanted us to stay, and I couldn’t refuse. Thankfully, Zach was quick on the uptake and joked, “Hey, Lord Grant, you know there’s a whole crowd back home waiting for the young master to get married. No wonder he’s in a rush!”

Zach’s words broke the tension, and everyone laughed. The mention of my upcoming wedding was enough to get even Grant to crack a smile.

Grant exchanged a look with the substitute teacher and burst out laughing. “I’d almost forgotten about that!”

He clapped me on the back, shaking his head. “Guess you’re more grown-up than I thought, Mitch.”

I was just about to say something when Chase’s voice came from the main room: “Brother—”

His voice rang out, sharp and a little shaky, like he’d run all the way there.

He sounded angry, but even more aggrieved.

The kind of tone that says, ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’—but with a whole lot of mad thrown in for good measure.

He swept inside, clearly having rushed over, chest heaving as he caught his breath.

His hair was a mess, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing. He looked ready to take on the world—or at least his brother. Either way, someone was about to get an earful.

Chase strode up to Grant, his face dark. “Brother, you’re sending me to Silver Hollow?”

He squared his shoulders, refusing to back down. I could see the stubborn streak a mile away.

Grant’s tone was casual. He just grunted and turned away to look at the map, refusing to meet Chase’s eyes.

It was the kind of move only an older brother could pull off—cool, collected, acting like it was no big deal.

Chase bit his lip. “I’m not going!”

His hands balled into fists at his sides, voice trembling with frustration. He looked like he might run for it, but he didn’t budge.

Grant glanced at him, then immediately turned back, his voice stern. “Cut it out. Everything’s set. You think you get a say in this? Not happening.”

He spoke with the finality of someone who’d already decided, leaving no room for argument.

“I’m just not going!”

Chase’s voice rose, unable to accept his brother’s decision. He stared stubbornly at Grant. “Why do I have to go to Silver Hollow?!”

His voice cracked, the words hanging in the air. The room felt smaller somehow, like it was closing in on the two of them.

“...Is it because I keep getting held back for extra lessons? Brother, I promise I’ll study hard from now on. I won’t fall behind anymore, and I won’t make you mad... Please don’t send me away.”

The plea in his voice was unmistakable, raw and honest. Tears glistened in his eyes, and I felt a pang of sympathy.

By the end, his voice was choked with tears.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to hold himself together, but the hurt was plain to see.

Grant heard something off and turned to look. Sure enough, the young man’s eyes were red.

“You... you stubborn ox!” Grant sighed, helpless against Chase’s tears. His tone softened. “You’re twenty now, a grown man, but you still cry like a kid? And who said I was sending you away?”

He tried to sound stern, but there was affection there, too—hidden under the gruffness.

“You’re sending me to Silver Hollow! Isn’t that sending me away?” Chase protested, forcing back his tears.

He looked at Grant, searching for some sign that he was wrong, that he could stay.

Grant almost laughed in exasperation. “Sending you to Silver Hollow counts as sending you away?”

He shook his head, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“How is it not?!”

Chase shot back, “You’re just trying to get rid of me!”

His voice wavered, but his eyes were fierce. He wasn’t going to back down without a fight.

I could see all the care Grant had for Chase, but Grant was always reserved, never showing his feelings, especially with Chase. He always made plans for him quietly, never saying it out loud.

The tension between them was thick—so much left unsaid. You could cut it with a knife. I exchanged a glance with Zach, who just shrugged, as if to say, ‘Brothers, right?’

But for some reason, watching them bicker was funny.

It was like watching a rerun of an old sitcom—predictable, but still heartwarming in its own way.

This kind of stalemate wouldn’t do, so I smiled and called out to Chase, “Lord Grant wants you in Silver Hollow because there’s something important for you to do.”

I tried to sound official, like I was letting him in on a big secret.

“Brother, is what Mitch said true?” Chase was half convinced, half doubtful.

His voice was tentative, hope flickering in his eyes.

Grant took the out I offered, nodding firmly. “Of course it’s true!”

He seized the lifeline, straightening up a little.

“Then... what do you want me to do there?”

This stumped Grant, since he’d only wanted Chase to go to Silver Hollow for a change of scenery—he hadn’t actually planned to give him any tasks.

He looked at me, silently begging for help. I grinned, stepping in to save him.

“It’s for the county seat relocation, of course!”

I quickly jumped in to cover for Grant. Since I’d started this, I had to see it through. “It’s no small matter. Someone has to help coordinate everything. You’ll be Lord Grant’s right hand in Silver Hollow.”

I tried to sound as serious as possible, hoping Chase would buy it.

“Besides—” I walked over and patted his shoulder. “Didn’t you say you wanted to go help my dad out in the field? If you don’t go to Silver Hollow, how will you find him?”

I could see him waver, the gears turning in his head. He wanted to argue, but he also wanted to help.

Chase fell silent, clearly torn. He didn’t want to leave Grant, but he couldn’t avoid going to Silver Hollow either.

He stared at the floor, jaw clenched. The struggle was written all over his face.

After a long pause, he finally made up his mind. “I’ll go to Silver Hollow—but only after my sister-in-law has her baby!”

That was his condition. She was due any day, so Grant readily agreed.

Grant nodded, relief clear on his face. “Deal. You can leave after the baby’s born.”

“Mitch is about to get married. You’ll be in Silver Hollow to celebrate for me... Hey, why the long face? You look miserable.” Grant brushed the dust off his clothes and started nagging him again.

He tried to sound tough, but everyone could see he was just worried about his brother.

I didn’t think Chase looked pitiful at all—he was taller than Grant. But Grant always saw him that way.

It was a classic older brother move—no matter how big you got, you were still the little kid in his eyes. Big or small, you never outgrow being someone’s little brother.

Maybe it’s just a brother thing. I understood. My grandpa used to say he always thought I looked pitiful too.

I remembered the way Grandpa would ruffle my hair and tell me I looked like I needed another helping at dinner, even when I was taller than him.

“...You were so little back then, barely tall enough to reach the porch step. Just learning to walk, and you tripped on flat ground. You got up, sat there, pouting, but you held back your tears.”

I could almost see it now. Me, stubborn as ever, refusing to cry.

I remembered my grandpa, how he used to laugh and tell stories about me as a kid.

He’d sit on the porch in his old rocking chair, telling tales as the sun went down, his voice warm and steady.

“My wife and I rushed over, hugging and soothing you, but you were so sweet—you even looked up and smiled at us...”

His big, calloused hands would smooth the rough edges of my little wooden sword, taking the ugly kite I’d made and fixing it for me.

He’d always say, ‘Doesn’t matter if it’s crooked, Mitch—it’ll still fly just fine.’

“Ever since then, Grandpa always thought you were pitiful. No matter how I looked at you, I couldn’t help but want to give you the best of everything—maybe then you wouldn’t seem so pitiful.”

And that’s when I understood—

It hit me, clear as day, sitting there in that crowded room. Love makes you soft, makes you want to give everything you have to the people who matter most.

When someone loves you, you’ll always be their soft spot.

Grandpa was like that. So was Grant.

It doesn’t matter if you’re grown or still a child—they’ll always see you as someone to be cared for.

It’s the best kind of burden, being someone’s soft spot.