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“And you’re looking after Nora?” The disbelief was strong.
“I am.”
“You don’t know anything about little girls. Hell, you don’t know anything about Nora. What the fuck is Bent thinking?”
“Miss Millie, that is a really bad word.” The shock on Nora’s face was comical, but the adults weren’t paying attention. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Badder than the S word.”
“Where are you staying?” Millie asked.
“The ranch, I guess.”
“I give you two days tops.” She looked like she had more to say, but then she pursed her lips and remained silent.
Cal shouldn’t have been surprised at her attitude. Hell, he’d expected worse if he was being honest with himself. But the fact that she thought he’d abandon a little girl after two days did something to him. It got under his skin and burned. He didn’t like the feeling one bit.
“I’m here until Bent doesn’t need me anymore.”
“We’ll see.” Millie kissed the top of Nora’s head. “Be good for your uncle.” Then she turned on a dime and disappeared the way she’d come, leaving him alone with a little girl who’d managed to wiggle out of her pink-and-purple coat. Her pigtails were a static mess of electricity, and she was impatiently trying to brush strands from her face as she looked up at him.
“Are you gonna buy me a milkshake?”
“Whatever you want, darlin’.”
“And some french fries and brussels sprouts?”
Cal doffed his jacket and took the seat opposite Nora. “Anyone ever tell you that brussels sprouts and french fries don’t go together?”
“Daddy says my tastebuds are special.” She giggled, and the sound punched him somewhere between his heart and his head. He was gonna do right by his brother. He owed him that and so much more. Besides, how hard could it be to look after a little kid? She wasn’t in diapers and could obviously feed herself.
Cal was feeling pretty damn good about things when, a couple of hours later, he drove through the Triple B gates and, after another twenty minutes or so, parked in front of the large house set up on a small hill that overlooked the barns and outbuildings. The structure had been built in 1935, replacing a smaller bungalow that still stood a couple of hundred yards to the left, back behind a thick stand of pine. The house was antebellum with wide sweeping verandas held in place by thick white columns, floor-to-ceiling windows to let in the natural beauty, and double-wide garden doors. His great-great-grandmother had been a Southern belle, one of the Bodines from New Orleans, and she’d been brought to the wilds of Montana by Joshua Bridgestone.
Looking up at the place was like seeing a memory come alive. Some of it good. A lot of it not so much. It was sobering being back here, and Cal took a moment, heaving a sigh as he turned off the engine. He let Nora out of the truck and grabbed her backpack while she scrambled up the stairs onto the wide veranda. The pathway was shoveled and clear of snow, as were the steps. He made it up three of them before the front door opened, spilling light into the early evening gloom. The figure that stood in the doorway was full of shadow and light, and he squinted in order to see better, but there was no mistaking the frame.
“I swear, Cal Bridgestone, if you don’t get up here and give me a big ol’ hug, I just might whoop your butt like I done many times before.”
For the first time since he’d arrived back in Montana, Cal felt the kind of joy he’d damn near forgot about. He jumped onto the veranda and enveloped Rose Whitehead in a gorilla hug that had the old girl giggling like a teenager. She hugged him back just as fierce. The two of them clung to each other for several seconds before she disengaged herself. The sight of tears in her eyes made him feel like shit, and for a moment, he was silent on account of the big lump in his throat.
It had been too long. And that was on him.
“Hey,” he finally managed to say, taking her in. She’d aged, this woman who’d been like a mother to him. Her hair was threaded with silver, her golden-brown skin weathered, deep lines carved onto a proud face. But her dark eyes glittered, and the wide smile was just as warm as he remembered. “You look exactly the same.”
“Now I thought I taught you never to tell no lie.”
“No,” he replied with a grin. “You taught me to always say the right thing. There’s a difference.”
“Rosie, I have a new uncle.” Nora’s excited chatter caught both of them, and Cal’s gaze slid to the little girl.
“He’s not new child,” Rose said, stepping aside and shooing Nora inside. “He’s just been absent.”
“What does absent mean?” Nora slipped out of her jacket and tossed it on the bench just inside the doorway. She didn’t wait for an answer and instead whirled around and headed for the stairs.
“Are you coming, Uncle Cal? I want to show you my rabbit. His name is Charlie.” She hardly stopped to take a breath and disappeared upstairs, her voice like musical notes that rose and fell.
“She’s on a sugar high,” Cal admitted sheepishly. “Found I couldn’t say no to her.”
“She’s a Bridgestone through and through. They’re all hard to resist.” Rose’s smile softened as her eyes filled with tears. “She’s gonna need you. Nothing like blood when there’s a family crisis.”
There was no reprimand in her tone. No blaming for all of it. And for that, Cal was grateful.
