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Dane joined Susan and Bob Spencer by the grand fireplace. Since it was mid-February, Bob had lit the fire.
“You have a great family here,” Dane told them.
“And it’s growing all the time,” Bob said with a big belly laugh, his gaze floating over his daughters-in-law and their baby bumps.
Daniel joined them, while Tasha chatted excitedly with the pregnant group. Paige placed Tasha’s hand on her round mound, and they all squealed with delight when it seemed the babies kicked.
“Tasha seems a little too interested.” Daniel eyed her with what could have been longing.
Susan patted his arm. “Don’t worry. Your time will come.” And that could have been a twinkle in Daniel’s eye.
“I want to thank you all for having us here,” Dane said. “My brothers and sisters and I are enjoying ourselves immensely.”
Daniel clapped him on the back. “This merger will be good for all of us.”
He couldn’t know how much his words meant. Now more than ever, Dane wanted to be part of this family, not just for himself, but for his brothers and sisters. He wondered if Bob Spencer, with his comment about a growing family, had included not only the coming babies, but the Harringtons as well.
Susan and Bob were the glue that held this band of brothers—and more—together. They’d married young, had little money, and lived in an apartment barely big enough for them and their two children. Bob had been a baggage handler at O’Hare and Susan a waitress. Yet, when Daniel brought home his friends, all of them in bad places in their young lives, Susan and Bob had taken them in. They’d given each Maverick exactly what he’d needed—love, support, discipline, and life lessons. And these Mavericks had even taken on the responsibility for their little sister, Lyssa, who was just a baby at the time, being ten years younger than Daniel.
And all the while, Dane’s parents had been roaming the globe. Dane recalled holidays when they’d been absent because the skiing was too good in the Alps. It was as if the Harrington children were afterthoughts. His parents had never offered the love he and his siblings craved, as much as they’d all wanted and needed it. Maybe Dane had craved it the most.
Their answering refrain when he’d begged? You always want too much from people, Dane.
What would his family have been like if they’d been raised as the Mavericks had? Maybe he would have been an uncle by now. Maybe they would have learned how to love instead of fearing and mistrusting it.
He flicked his gaze to his brothers and sisters as they worked the room, talking, laughing. Did they feel what he did—a craving to be part of this family? He wondered, too, about Cammie. After losing her parents so young, after having only her uncle, even as much as she loved Lochlan and was now on the verge of losing him, did she crave something bigger?
As if thoughts of Cammie had conjured her up, his phone rang, her ID on the screen.
Excusing himself, he stepped away to answer, his gut roiling. “Hey, what’s up?” he asked even before she could say hello.
Her voice quivered. “It’s Uncle Lochlan. His aides are here.” She choked back what could only have been a sob. “He’s barely breathing, and his pulse is almost nonexistent. They told me that if they turn him, he’ll probably go.”
“I’m leaving now.” He hated that she was so far away, that he couldn’t be there with a snap of his fingers. It would take him over an hour.
Her voice whispered across the airwaves. “Thank you.”
“You hang in there. Wait for me.”
“I will. I better go now.”
She was near tears, and her pain tore at him like a fist closing around his heart. He had to go. Now. He couldn’t waste a single minute getting to her.
Approaching the Spencers again, he said, “It’s Cammie. Her uncle. I’m sorry, I have to leave.” On the way out, he squeezed Ava’s arm. “It’s Lochlan. I have to be with her in his final moments.”
She pressed her lips together, her face solemn. “You go. Give her our love. Call me later.”
Dane knew she’d check with her own people and was, in fact, already reaching for her phone.
In the kitchen, he found Fernsby with his hands in soapy dishwater, an apron around his waist. “It’s Cammie’s uncle,” Dane said.
Fernsby’s eyes turned a misty gray. “You must immediately go to Camille. Don’t worry about Lord Rexford and me. Gabby can drop us off in Pebble Beach on her way home to Carmel. It’ll be a perfect opportunity for me to give her a few pointers about the health benefits of butter and eggs when she’s driving and can’t hit me,” he said with a straight face.
Dane wanted to hug him. Trust Fernsby to break the tension.
