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Dad leaned back against his thickly padded deck chair, an ankle crossed over one knee. His leather loafer bounced with the movement of his foot. “It’s not forever. A semester, maybe. Perhaps the school year. Nathan needs a new scene before he gets involved with any more bad influences. And Gemma will adjust. She’s easygoing that way. All sunshine, that girl. Just like her old man . . .” A smile that Bennett felt certain he’d used himself on several occasions smoothed over his dad’s face. The one that sealed the deal more often than not. “Anyway, they’re not trouble. Give them a pool or some kind of tech, and you basically never hear from them.”
“Nice, Dad.” Bennett straightened, pulling his weight off the railing, and glanced down at his younger half sister. Gemma favored their shared father—she had his ruddy coloring and a pair of adorable dimples that could likely gain her about anything she wished. She dolphin dove beneath the water, swimming after her dark-haired friend as they played a game of water tag. Her happy world was teetering, and the poor eleven-year-old girl didn’t even know it.
Bennett shook his head. “There aren’t a whole lot of private pools in Montana.” He turned to pin a scowl on his dad, only to find the man had stood and now wore a pleading expression.
“Look, Ben.”
“Bennett.” Bennett held a stern expression on his dad.
“Son.” Dad exhaled a long, dramatic sigh. “The truth is that Mindi and I probably are not going to make it. I’ve accepted it, but she wants this one last try. Figure after this long, I owe her that. This couple’s retreat is . . .”
Bennett shook his head. A rising holy temper drummed in the depths of his soul. Honestly, he didn’t care about his father’s four-month-long intensive couple’s whatever in Europe—except that was so Dad. Throw some money at a problem and hope it stuck.
If it didn’t . . . eh. Oh well. Move on. Leave a wife . . . She’ll get over it. Abandon some kids . . . they’d be fine with a padded bank account.
Who needed an actual dad?
How had this man claimed to follow Christ and had even pastored a church for seven years? The confounding mystery of that antagonized Bennett exceedingly. But at the moment the more pressing and exasperating puzzle was why his dad had thought Bennet would want to take on guardianship of his half siblings while Chip and his likely-soon-to-be ex-wife took off for four months. Or longer.
And here Bennett had stupidly thought that when Dad had asked him to come and try again, he had actually meant what Bennett had meant—to be reconciled.
Bennett blew out a hard breath. “Dad, you can’t do this to them.”
Chip frowned. After a quick glance toward the pool, he shook his head. “They don’t know about Mindi and me right now.” He shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe they’ll never have to know.”
How could this man be so disgustingly cavalier about this? “They’ll know something’s wrong if you send them to live with me in Montana.”
Another shrug. “Either way they’ll not be staying. The other option is a boarding school in New England.”
“What?”
“Chicago isn’t what it used to be, and Nathan, as I’ve already alluded to, has been finding trouble. He just needs different people around him . . . Anyway, the point is, either way they’re going somewhere.”
“Dad.” Bennett huffed out the title with pure exasperation.
Chip stepped next to Bennett and covered his shoulder with one hand. Bennett had to discipline away the reaction to sidestep out of the man’s touch. Resentment bubbled up from the deep storage of years’ worth of anger. He flinched at the strength of the surging reaction.
And then he let his gaze rest on the copper-haired girl laughing in the water below. Hazel’s face drifted through his mind. She would have been about the same age as Gemma when she’d lost her parents.
At least Hazel had had her brother to see her through.
Bennett swallowed. His chest ached. He had to clear emotion from his throat before he could speak. “I need to pray about this.”
The hand on his shoulder squeezed. “Sure. Sleep on it, why don’t you?” Then Chip clapped his back. “The guest house comfortable enough for you?”
With a glance over his shoulder, bypassing his dad’s impassive face, Bennett looked through the glass French door that led into the guest suite above the pool house—his quarters for the past few weeks. It was nothing short of luxury. Something Bennett would have put in one of his more high-end resorts.
The tech industry certainly paid well. Much better than the church gig. Couldn’t hurt that Mindi was an accountant in a highly prized firm used by the beyond-wealthy people of the Northern Shore.
“It’s fine, Dad.” It took work not to allow the sharp edge of his irritation to cut through his tone.
“Good.” Dad turned, strode toward the padded deck chair, and stopped to snag his Eagle Rare Bourbon. Pausing, he raised his glass. “Can I get you one?”
“Nine is a little early for me.” Bennett couldn’t school the frown that pressed on his mouth. “Thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” Dad turned back toward the spiral stairs and descended as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
“Dad!” Gemma’s call broke through the splashing and giggles of the three girls in the pool. “Watch this!”
