Chapter 4: Homecoming and a Missing Heartbeat

When we finally stumbled back, dusty and bedraggled, into the Silver Hollow house, we startled Hector.

We must have looked like a band of outlaws, boots caked in mud, hair wild, faces sunburned. Hector’s eyes went wide as he saw us.

“Hector!” I gripped my riding crop, Zach and Chase behind me, and hollered as soon as I stepped inside, “Tell the housekeeper to get hot water ready—I need a bath!”

You’d think I’d set off a fire alarm. My voice echoed through the foyer, and I could hear the scurrying of feet as the staff sprang into action.

Hector came rushing out, delighted and surprised. “Ah! Young master, you’re back!”

He grinned from ear to ear, looking like he wanted to hug me but thought better of it. Probably didn’t want to get dust on his suit.

“Hector, this is our guest from South Pines, Chase. Please help him settle in.” Zach paused, then helplessly pointed at me. “Actually, better get hot water for the young master first—he’s always been a stickler for cleanliness, and he’s been suffering all the way back.”

He wasn’t wrong. There were motels along the way, but we were in such a rush we barely had time to wash. I couldn’t show up in front of Taylor all dirty.

I could already imagine Taylor’s face if I walked in covered in trail dust—he’d probably drag me straight to the bathroom. Guy’s a neat freak, but I love him for it.

Taylor loves cleanliness, and so do I—at least when he’s around.

I’d never admit it, but I’d started picking up his habits, folding my clothes just so, making the bed in the morning. It was a good kind of change.

Of course, I didn’t forget to ask about my elders. “Hector, how are Grandpa and Grandma?”

The question came out before I could stop it. I’d been worrying about them the whole way back.

Hector nodded. “They’re well! After you left, your father set out for Pine Ridge, but the old master and madam have been here in Silver Hollow.”

That was a relief. I asked about Taylor next.

I tried to sound casual, but my heart was pounding. I needed to know he was all right.

But this time, Hector hesitated, and my heart jumped. “Hector, is Taylor all right? Did something happen while I was gone?”

He hesitated, eyes darting away. My stomach dropped, and I gripped the doorframe, bracing for bad news. Not what I wanted to hear.

“Don’t worry, young master!” Seeing how anxious I was, Hector quickly tried to calm me. “...After you left, Taylor fell ill for a while.”

What?

My mind went blank for a second. I could barely process the words.

Taylor got sick?

I felt both guilty and worried. Tossing my riding crop to Zach, I rushed off to find Taylor, not even bothering to wash first.

I barely registered Zach calling after me. My only thought was to get to Taylor as fast as possible. Nothing else mattered.

Running, I called back to Zach, “...You entertain Chase for me—I’m going to check on Taylor!”

I think Hector was saying something behind me, but I didn’t care. My mind was full of Taylor, thinking, Of course he got sick as soon as I left.

Every step felt like it took forever. I cursed myself for not coming back sooner.

I hurried back to our wing, pushed open the side room—no sign of Taylor.

Panic flared, but I forced myself to think. Where would he be?

After a moment’s thought, I opened my own room.

Sure enough, Taylor was asleep at the low table, clutching one of my old hoodies.

He looked so small, curled up like that. My heart twisted at the sight. Didn’t realize how much I’d missed him.

I didn’t have the heart to wake him. Quietly taking off my shoes, I sat beside him and looked him over carefully.

He’d gotten much thinner.

His cheekbones were sharper, his hands pale. I reached out, afraid to touch him, afraid I’d break the spell.

His eyelashes were long, with a flush of color at the corners of his eyes—strikingly beautiful.

I leaned over and kissed his cheek, feeling sorry for him. I should have come back sooner.

I lingered there, letting my lips rest against his skin for just a moment longer than I should have.

As I pulled away, I suddenly remembered I hadn’t washed my hands. Looking down, I saw a dirty handprint smeared across his shirt.

I froze—seems I’d done something bad again...

I thought about covering it up so he wouldn’t notice, but of course, right then, he woke up.

“...Babe?”

Taylor’s voice sounded in my ear, a little hoarse from just waking up—pleasant to listen to.

It was the kind of voice that makes you want to crawl back into bed, forget about the world for a while.

“Uh?” I looked up, feeling completely guilty, like a kid caught red-handed.

I tried to hide my hands behind my back, but it was too late. Taylor’s gaze was gentle, and I felt my face go hot. Busted. And blushing.

Taylor gazed at me silently for a moment.

For some reason, I started feeling shy, my eyes darting everywhere but at him. I could feel my face heating up—I must have been blushing.

I was so annoyed at myself—why was I like this?

You’re the husband, shouldn’t you be the one to take the initiative? What, you want Taylor to make the first move? Isn’t that embarrassing?

My mind raced, searching for something—anything—to say.

So I decided—I’d be the one to speak first.

“Hector said... said you were sick. Are you feeling better now?” But as soon as I opened my mouth, I started stammering, which just made it worse.

My words tumbled out, awkward and clumsy. I wanted to sound strong, but all I managed was a nervous squeak.

“I’m fine,” Taylor replied, still looking at me gently.

He smiled, the kind of smile that makes everything else fade away.

“Oh... that’s good.” I accidentally met his eyes, then looked away like I’d been burned, still stammering, “I, uh, accidentally got your shirt dirty just now—I didn’t mean to...”

I fiddled with the hem of my shirt, wishing the ground would swallow me up.

“It’s all right.”

Taylor didn’t mind my clumsiness. I let out a breath, then suddenly went blank, racking my brain for something else to say. Just then, Taylor spoke, softly calling, “Babe...”

His voice was so soft I almost missed it, but it sent a shiver down my spine.

“Mm?”

I answered, only to be pulled into his arms without warning.

I gasped, caught off guard, but melted into the hug almost immediately.

“I missed you so much...”

Taylor murmured, taking a deep breath against my neck. I could feel him relax. And me, too.

His arms were strong, holding me close, and I felt all the tension of the past month drain away.

I quickly tried to push him off. “Taylor, let go—I haven’t bathed yet, I’m all dirty!”

I wriggled, but he just held on tighter, burying his face in my shoulder.

“You’re not dirty, not at all.” He hugged me tighter, refusing to let go. “It’s been so long—don’t you want to hold me?”

Of course I do!

My hands answered for me, hugging him back. I nestled into his arms, softly admitting, “I missed you so, so much too...”

My voice broke, and I didn’t care. I let myself sink into him, breathing in the scent of home.

We stayed like that for a while before Taylor finally let go, looking at me with concern. “...You’ve gotten so thin.”

He ran his hands over my arms, frowning a little.

I sighed. “You too—and you even got sick.”

I tried to sound scolding, but it came out more like a whine.

Forgetting again that I hadn’t washed my hands, I reached out to touch his face. When I saw the dirty mark I’d left, I froze.

Awkwardly, I tried to wipe his face with my sleeve, but that was covered in dust too. The more I wiped, the dirtier he got, so I stopped.

I made a face, half laughing, half mortified. “I got your face dirty too...”

“It’s fine, really.” Taylor cupped my face, his tone gentle and sweet. “No matter how dirty you make me, it doesn’t matter.”

He pressed his forehead to mine, eyes closed. I could feel his breath, steady and warm.

Then he rubbed his cheek against mine. I knew he’d missed me terribly, so I obediently stayed still.

I closed my eyes, letting the moment stretch out, wishing it could last forever.

“Young master!”

A servant’s voice outside interrupted us. I turned, exhaling in relief.

Good thing I’d closed the door when I came in.

I glanced at Taylor, who just smiled and shook his head, amused by the interruption.

The servant called again from outside, “The hot water is ready, sir. Would you like to bathe now?”

I could hear the clatter of buckets and the low murmur of voices in the hallway.

“Got it!” I shouted, waving him off. “You can go now.”

I waited until I heard footsteps receding before turning back to Taylor.

Once the servant was gone, maybe because he thought I’d suffered out there, Taylor hugged me even tighter. “Let me help you bathe, all right?”

His voice was playful, but there was a glint in his eye that made my heart race.

I froze. I’d begged him to do this so many times before, but now that he was offering, I was embarrassed.

I shook my head so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash. “No, no, no!” I clutched my collar and shook my head frantically. “Really, it’s fine!”

Taylor kissed me, leaving me dazed, and asked curiously, “Didn’t you always pester me to do this before? Why not now?”

His lips brushed mine, light as a feather. I felt my resolve slipping.

I stammered, “You’re still recovering—you should rest.”

I tried to sound convincing, but even I didn’t buy it.

Taylor smiled faintly. “It was just a cold. Don’t worry, I’m fine now.”

He reached out as if to help me change.

I was so startled I practically leapt out of his arms, stumbling out of the room as fast as I could.

My face was on fire. I could hear Taylor laughing behind me, and I knew I’d never live this down. So much for playing it cool.

Afraid he’d chase after me, I hurriedly tossed over my shoulder, “I’ll bathe myself!” and ducked into the bathroom.

I slammed the door, pressed my back against it, and let out a shaky laugh. Sometimes, love makes you act like a fool—and that’s okay.

Fifteen minutes later, soaking in the hot water, I smacked my forehead in regret.

The steam fogged up the mirror, and I stared at my reflection, wondering when I’d gotten so bashful.

How could I let such a perfect chance slip by!

But once I calmed down, my feelings were all tangled up. I couldn’t tell if I was glad Taylor hadn’t helped me, or disappointed that he hadn’t.

I splashed water on my face, trying to clear my head. Either way, I knew I’d never forget the look on his face.

After dawdling through my bath, I finally turned back into the clean, proper young master Taylor remembered.

I combed my hair, straightened my clothes, and took a deep breath before stepping out.

When I finished dressing and shuffled out in my slippers, Taylor had already changed into fresh clothes and was waiting for me with a bright smile.

He looked radiant, the picture of health and happiness. I felt my heart swell with relief. He was back. We both were.

In that instant, I realized—Taylor had been teasing me all along.

He never actually planned to help!

I groaned, shaking my head. He’d gotten me good, and I couldn’t even be mad about it.