He shrugs. “If I have nowhere to be, why not enjoy a drink? But really, sis…you look like her. Mom’s commented on it a few times, and Dad still jokes he’s glad the redhead gene only effects females in the Fowler family line.” I look at Harrison like he’s crazy, though I know for certain he’s not making this up. “Come here,” he says and waves his hand. I follow Harrison through the house, going downstairs into the finished basement family room.
“See?” He points to a photo that’s hanging on the stairwell. “That’s us with Nana and Aunt Estelle.”
“Holy shit,” I murmur, looking at the framed photo. It’s nestled in a gallery of other family photos, ones I’ve walked by a hundred times. How the hell did I not notice this? I lean in closer, looking at the photograph. There’s no mistaking Harrison, with his light brown hair and bright blue eyes. He’s standing with Nana—Mom’s mom—with a cheesy smile on his face.
And then there’s me, standing next to a woman with long red hair. It’s Aunt Estelle. She’s dressed in all black and has her hand on my shoulder. There’s no denying our resemblance, and at least now I know I’m not the only redhead on Mom’s side of the family.
“Wait a second,” I start, lips parting as I sharply inhale. There’s a dog lying by Aunt Estelle’s feet, and he looks shockingly familiar. A charm hangs from the dog’s collar, and while it’s too small to be sure, I’m willing to bet the charm from that dog’s collar is the same pendant that’s hanging around my neck. Slowly, I tear my eyes from the photo to look at my brother, expecting to see the same shock. “That’s Hunter.”
Chapter Two
“Okay,” Harrison says slowly, looking at me with concern now. “Not remembering something from our childhood is one thing, but thinking that dog is Hunter is another. That was nearly twenty years ago, and that dog was an adult back then.”
“But it looks like him.”
“He looks like a typical German Shepherd. And I’m pretty sure that dog was a female named Daisy.”
“How the hell do you remember all this?”
“How do you not?”
I let out a breath. “I don’t know. Did anything traumatic happen that would have blocked it from my memory?”
“Not that I know of. Unless it was…” He hesitates for a moment. “I always thought Aunt Estelle’s house was haunted.” He shrugs and we go back upstairs.
“Why are you here so early?” I ask, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the breakfast table.
“I took a client out to brunch and was nearby. It’s always quiet here and good for napping.”
“You took a client out to brunch on a Saturday? It’s unsettling seeing you so grown up.”
“Hah.” He puts the spaghetti in the microwave. “It’s unsettling being so grown up. I turned down going out to the bar last night with Bryan because I knew I had to get up early today.”
“What is wrong with you?” I tease, knowing Harrison lives for going out so he can bring a new girl home with him. “Are you going out tonight to make up for it at least?”
“Most likely.”
“I’m going out too. Laney’s boyfriend is playing at Martini’s.”
“He’s still in that band? I heard they were awful.” He makes a face and I shoot him one right back.
“Be nice. It’s Josh’s hobby, and they’ve gotten better since last year.”
“Did they replace everyone?”
I give Harrison a blank stare. “No. And I’m not going out just to listen to them. My date was a bust last night so maybe I’ll pick up a hottie from the bar to bring home.”
“You’re going to bring home a stranger?”
“Like you never do. Feel free to set me up with some of your single friends.” I take a bite of the apple.
"No fucking way.”
“Marcus from your office is cute. And I know he’s single.”
“You don’t want to go out with Marcus. He’s not the settling down type. You’re much too wholesome for that.”
“Wholesome?” I raise my eyebrows. “I feel like that’s a nice way of saying I’m a prude, which I’m not. Not at all.”
“Too much information, Anora.” He flicks his eyes to me, expression softening. “Be careful if you do decide to go home with anyone.”
“I’d take them home with me. And if they don’t pass Hunter’s test, I’ll shoo them out.”
“And you wonder why you’re single,” he says under his breath.
“I gotta run,” I tell him. “Can you let Hunter and Buster in soon? It’s too hot for them to be out for much longer.”
“Yeah. See ya, sis.”
“Hey, Anora!” Leslie, my friend and another riding instructor at the barn, calls as I get out of my car and cross the gravel parking lot. She’s leading her horse into the barn, coming from the indoor arena. Sundance spooks, able to sense—or maybe even see—the ghost standing at the threshold of the woods next to the arena. I’ve named him Bob, and he’s been appearing in that same spot for years, stuck in some sort of time loop.