by Nicole Helm
Summer swallowed. “If you know of any places I might be able to get some work? I’ve done just about everything—singing and waitressing and answering phones. Before I left Sacramento, I was making and selling jewelry at local fairs and markets and doing pretty okay.”
Making jewelry. Singing. Yeah, this girl did not belong at Shaw.
“Have you ever been like a nurse? Not a registered one or anything, just someone who helps—” Caleb began.
Mel stopped him. “Caleb, no.” They couldn’t bring her into that, even if Dad did know about her or wouldn’t figure some kind of connection based on her looks. “I’ll take you down. Do you have plumbing in that thing?”
“Oh. No.”
“We’ll turn the water back on in the cabin. If you want to sleep in your…thing, that’s fine, but you’ll have somewhere to shower and take care of things.”
“That’s really amazing. I’m so grateful. I—”
Mel held up a hand to stop the tide of gratitude. It made her feel… She didn’t know. Some constricting in her chest and a prick of heat behind her eyes. Uncomfortable.
“Let’s get you settled,” she said roughly. Before Summer could say anything else, Mel looked pointedly at Dan. “You coming?”
“I’ll wait here.” He smiled, of all damn things. She glanced at Caleb. Oh, hell. Well, she didn’t have time for that. If they wanted to have some idiot macho pissing match, so be it.
“Follow me.” She had to force the next syllables out of her mouth. But she was pretty sure this girl deserved something, needed something, and Mel had a bad feeling she knew exactly what it was. Something she really didn’t want to give.
Kindness. Welcome. Family.
But knowing how much those things could mean, she had to force the word out. “Summer.” Sister. Her sister.
Yeah, she had no idea what to do with that.
* * *
Dan probably should have gone with Mel, but despite his determination to stand behind her and help her, he was also sure she needed a few minutes of silence to herself. To wrap her brain around what happened.
And, sure, he had a few things to say to Caleb, which were maybe none of his business, but he couldn’t get past the idea that Mel needed someone willing to say something—say out loud that things here were not right. He couldn’t imagine convincing her she didn’t need to power through it, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t tell Caleb to get his shit together.
“So it doesn’t bug you to pay my sister to have sex with you when she’s desperate?” Caleb asked.
Dan didn’t move from where he was leaning against the garage. He didn’t move, period. Because if he didn’t take a few minutes to breathe through the white-hot fury, he’d punch Caleb straight in the mouth.
Mel wouldn’t want him to do that, and he was already doing something she wouldn’t want him to do. So he took a few breaths and then mustered his best fuck-you smile. “Doesn’t it bug you to be so completely useless she breaks under the pressure of carrying your worthless ass?”
Something flickered in Caleb’s gaze, dark and violent, and Dan hoped to hell it was some kind of feeling for Mel. Because if he at least cared, there was hope.
He wanted Mel to have hope. “I care about your sister.”
Caleb snorted. “Why the hell wouldn’t you? I’d bet everything I have that she’s ten times the woman than anyone you’ve ever come into contact with in Chicago. But care doesn’t mean shit—you know why?”
“Enlighten me.”
“Take a look at those mountains, this house, that fucking truck she’s driving. They all belong here. Born here, made here, ground to fucking dust here. Tough. But, more, they’ve all got nowhere else to go. You’ve got somewhere to go.”
“I see you’re an expert on me. I had no idea you’d done so much research.”
“I know exactly who you are. Rich and spoiled, and you don’t give two shits about anything, or you wouldn’t be under suspicion of being a cheating asshole. Maybe you’d stay for a while because it’s new and different and you can throw money at any problem you’ve got. Build a life with my sister. Have a kid you barely pay attention to because she’s not the image of the perfect baby girl who was in your head, another kid you sneer at like he’s a bad seed because…well, hell, maybe he is. Then another you leave with that no one ever knows about.”
“I think I have certain anatomy that would make that a kind of impossible.”
“This a joke to you?”
“I’m not your mother. And I’m not responsible for your mommy issues.” He pushed off the garage, and though he hadn’t been in a brawl in a few years, he relished the thought of one.
But he wouldn’t, mainly because he had a feeling that’s exactly what Caleb was looking for. Reason for a good fight. Well, he wouldn’t be the joker who fell for that shit, especially when Mel wouldn’t appreciate it. No matter how angry she might be at her brother, no matter what little Dan knew about sibling dynamics, he doubted he’d be hailed a hero if he bloodied Caleb’s big mouth.
“Maybe the reason people leave is because you all go around acting like you’re so tough and have it under control when it’s obvious to the whole world you don’t,” Dan said.
“Maybe no one’s strong enough to stick.”
“Guess we’ll see.”
“You think I’ll let you hurt her?”
“You’ve done a bang-up job on your own. Don’t know why you’d care what anyone else does.”
“She deserves better than you.”
“Right back at you.”
“This isn’t about me. She’s stuck with me. You’re expendable. You should expend yourself away from this place.”
“You’re an asshole who could do better for your entire family, but you don’t see me giving you any unwanted advice.”
Caleb shoved hands through hair that looked shaggy and unruly, much like he did as a whole. Dan didn’t remember him looking that way when he’d first met him. Sure, a little shaky, but not like a man beyond the edge of what he could handle.
He almost, almost felt sympathy for the guy. Caleb was almost a decade younger and had a hell of a lot more on his plate than Dan had ever imagined facing.
“I care very deeply about your sister.” Very very deeply. A million verys. Or maybe just the L word he was still trying to decide if he could handle. If he could handle, survive, succeed at loving someone so bound and determined to shut him out. “I don’t have any beef with you other than she’s mad at you, so I’m mad by association. But whether you believe me or not, whether she believes me or not, I’m not going anywhere. Not permanently.”
Caleb looked hard at where Mel’s truck reappeared on the gravel drive. “That better be a promise you’re ready to keep…asshole.”
Though he muttered the insult, Dan both heard it and wasn’t affected by it. If anything, he felt at least moderately better Caleb cared, no matter how poorly he showed it.
When Mel stepped out of the truck, he stepped toward her, because she looked like she needed it. At the same time, Caleb stepped back, as if he couldn’t handle the utter confusion and hurt written all over Mel’s face.
He wanted to call Caleb an asshole, but he’d been in Caleb’s shoes before too. So, instead, he offered Mel what he could. Maybe he could be some kind of an example.
Who would have thought?
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“She’s settled. For now.” Mel rubbed her temples. “You need to get back.” Before he could argue, she pressed on. “Herd of llamas. Friday morning. You need to head back and finish that to-do list. You can…” She trailed off and looked at Caleb, at the way he was all but shrinking into the porch. “You can pick me up at seven. I’ll be ready to go home with you then.”
Go home. With you. She’d probably never know what those words meant, but someday
when they had a moment alone without all their issues crowding together, he’d tell her. And maybe tell her other things too.
“Please don’t argue.”
He shook his head and held up his hands. “Not making your life harder, remember?” He leaned in and brushed a kiss over her mouth, ignoring the way she didn’t reciprocate. Mel had bigger fish to fry at the moment, and hopefully she’d fry Caleb into some action. “I’ll be back at seven.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime, honey.” He offered his best charming smile and walked to her truck, even though it killed him a little bit to do it. Unfortunately, she needed family time, and for this portion, that didn’t require him.
He climbed into her truck and looked at her one last time. She offered the tiniest of smiles, the most pathetic of waves, and he wanted to stay. He really did. But she turned to face her brother, and that was not his fight.
As much as he wanted to step in and take that for her.
Instead, he turned around in the drive and headed back to Blue Valley. The sturdiness and longevity no longer haunted him, no longer gave him the heebie-jeebies. It was all a little daunting, but not something he couldn’t handle.
Even when his phone rang, his mouth was curved in a smile at that thought. “Sharpe.”
“Dan.”
At the sound of his father’s voice, all that confidence shriveled up. It didn’t die, exactly, but it shrunk and went skittering somewhere in the back of his rib cage.
“Scott called,” Dad said tonelessly.
Well, shit. “And told you I declined the tryout invitation.”
Dad sighed audibly, and Dad was not a sigher. “Yes, that is what he told me.”
“My decision on that stands, Dad. I’m sorry if that disappoints you.” It was somewhat shocking to realize that he was sorry, but not the guilt-laden, beat-himself-up sorry he would have been years ago. This was a little pang, and one he’d move on from relatively quickly.
Because it was the right fucking choice, and he was old enough and strong enough to know that. To believe it. That belief didn’t shake at the sound of his father’s voice. Not too much anyway.
“Dan, you know I hesitate to give you advice. I’ve always wanted you to make your own choices, but… This looks poorly on me. On you. It’s throwing away everything you’ve worked for. If you can’t handle the scrutiny, we can work with Scott and maybe a better publicist to—”
“It’s not the scrutiny I can’t take,” he interrupted through gritted teeth. “Both Scott and you wanted me to get away for a bit.”
“Yes, a bit. Not forever. Son, you can’t give up on hockey right now. There is a team that will take you, and even if it’s only for a year, it will erase a lot of the bad press. Then you can still get a job with another team. I can’t hire you myself, of course, that’d look bad, but I can pull some strings and—”
“I was never meant for management.” He had never had doubts about that, or an interest in changing that. “And since I can’t play hockey forever, this…what I’m doing here is something important.”
“You could coach. Scout. There are—”
“That’s you, Dad. It was… I love that game, but it’s different than the way you love it. If I can’t play, I don’t… Playing is all I ever wanted.”
“You could still do that. For at least a year. I played until I was thirty-nine, and you haven’t had nearly as many concussions as I have. Your mother and I—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what? Mom and you? You’ve been in contact?” Dan had to stop the truck, so he pulled into a spot in front of Georgia’s.
“We’ve exchanged a few emails and a phone call in the past few weeks.”
Dan blinked at the steering wheel. No contact for years. He or someone who worked for Dad had always, always been the intermediary once their divorce had been final. “After twenty-some years of no contact whatsoever.”
Dad sighed. “We’re worried about you, Dan. For all of the issues your mother and I have, you were always our number one priority.”
Well, his mental health, anyway, which he supposed counted.
“Both of us think this ranch idea has gone from…harmless to concerning. Scott’s call has me even more concerned. I’ve reached out to some friends at Phoenix. They should be giving you the week’s notice you asked for, and I hope you’ll accept that generous offer.”
Perhaps if he was eighteen again, he’d feel like he had to do what Dad said. That it was imperative to do whatever his parents asked of him, as long as it involved hockey. Hockey had become the one passion the three of them shared, the glue that held his fragile mess of a mind together.
Shouldn’t they be happy he didn’t need it anymore?
“I’m happy here. I’m building something here. On my own. Well, mostly on my own. Partially, anyway.”
“So it’s a woman!” Dad almost sounded relieved, as if he’d solved the mystery of the crazy son and his crazy llama ranch. “Well, that’s another story. Is it serious?”
Dan hesitated to answer, not because he didn’t know the answer, but because he thought it might undercut Dad’s understanding of his reasoning. Mel might be his reason for some things, but not everything. “It’s…unrelated.”
“Unrelated.” Dad sounded puzzled. “You’re not easing any of my worries, Son. Are you sure this isn’t…”
“Isn’t what? Mental breakdown again? Yeah, I’m pretty damn sure. For one, I’m not five. For two, I’m not uncontrollably crying or causing trouble, and I sure as hell don’t have night terrors anymore. I’m a grown-ass man.”
“I’m not trying to upset you.”
Dan wanted to laugh, but he rested his forehead on the steering wheel of Mel’s truck instead. “No, heaven forbid we upset each other.”
“Come home, Son. Go to the tryout, come home, and we’ll talk this all through.”
“Talk it all through or skate till we collapse?”
Dad was silent, and Dan straightened. “How about this. You come out here. Mom too. See what I’ve built. See me here.” Meet Mel maybe. “There is nothing you have to worry about. I’m not breaking. I’m not broken, and if anything…I am home.”
“If I agreed to that, would you take the tryout?”
“No, Dad, this isn’t a barter. It’s an invitation. You’re free to take it or leave it, but it doesn’t change my plans. It doesn’t change me.” The words bubbled out of him all in an excited burst. Because they weren’t just words. They weren’t just anger.
They were the truth.
“Let me know what you decide, but right now, I need to go.” He clicked End on his phone, looked at Georgia’s diner, and decided he could really go for a double bacon cheeseburger, calories be damned.
Chapter 23
Mel didn’t look directly at Caleb. Not at first. She needed a moment. She needed more than a moment. She needed a whole lifetime to wrap her head around this.
“What are we going to do about her?” Caleb asked.
She wished she had any clue. Any glimmer of an idea, but she was blank. Completely and utterly blank, and all the bravado in the world didn’t change the fact that she did not know how to handle this.
So she was honest, and it was a strange jolt to realize her honest moments with Caleb were few and far between. “I don’t know.”
His eyebrows drew together and he stepped gingerly toward her. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I mean I don’t have a fucking clue what we’re supposed to do.” Her tone was more vicious than was fair, but she couldn’t find it in her to care, to rein it in, to promise anyone it would be fine.
This wasn’t fine.
“He couldn’t possibly know about her,” she added. Of all her fears and confusion, that was the one piece that made her feel a little ill. Dad. Knowing. All this time. It wasn’t possible. “T
here’s no way Dad knew.”
“That girl all but said Mom’s a liar.”
Mel looked back to where she’d taken Summer, to get her out of the way, to avoid the very off chance Dad looked out the window for once, saw anything, asked questions.
Yeah, that’s the reason you’re hiding her away.
Mel swallowed down the queasy wave that kept threatening to escape her stomach. Summer had looked so lost. Even more lost than Mel felt. Like she had nowhere to go, and at the very least Mel always had somewhere to go.
“She thinks we knew and didn’t care,” Mel forced out, her throat tight and words scratchy. “Why would M…” She couldn’t say Mom, couldn’t force her mouth to make those words. “What’s the purpose of all this?” Was that the hardest part? Not understanding? Or was it a deeper hurt, a deeper cut she kept trying to ignore?
Throbbing, burning.
Why had she been left behind?
Of all the selfish, childish, foolish things to be focused on. Pointless to feel overlooked. As if she would have wanted to be taken away from Shaw, from Dad.
“Maybe she thought she’d give her a better life.”
Every once in a while—though less and less as the years went on—she wondered if Caleb knew more than he let on. She hadn’t had that sneaking suspicion in years, too buried under everything bigger than that one betrayal all those years ago.
But in those words, she swore, she swore Caleb knew something he’d never told her. “Then why not take us?”
Caleb shrugged, still not meeting her desperate gaze. His eyes were on the house, and the demons and shadows were all over his face.
The thing she missed, the thing she ignored. She wanted to sink into the earth until this all went away, possibly longer, but that was no more an option than it had been five years ago when the doctors had told her Dad was paralyzed.
“Caleb.”
His blue eyes met hers then, a million troubles she’d never be able to name haunting that look. He held it only a second before he looked away again. “I think we have to tell Dad.”
“How?”