Heal Me, Daddy

by Roberts, Laylah

  “Let me look at it.”

  Isaac refused to move his hand. “It’s fine. Don’t need it poked and prodded.”

  “Fine. Be a stubborn bastard, then. If you don’t care, don’t see why I should.” And he was getting tired of his bullshit. “I’m going to see if I can find some firewood. That fire is about to die out. Do you think she always lives like this?”

  Some mess didn’t worry him. He wasn’t a neat freak like Isaac. But this was a bit more of a disaster than he’d been anticipating.

  “Don’t know. Guessing so. Someone should be taking care of her. She shouldn’t be out here on her own.”

  “None of our business.” Although he couldn’t help but agree. “I’ll go get that wood.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  He whirled around. “No. You won’t. Just stay there, you stubborn ass, and rest. You’re pale as a ghost and I can tell you’re in pain even though you’re trying to hide it. Will you just let me look after you for once?”

  “You’re always doing that.”

  “What?” Archer raised his hands up.

  “Looking out for me. Talking for me. Making excuses for me. I’m a grown man. Don’t need you to do that.”

  Was he doing that? Well, Isaac was his brother, he wanted to have his back. But was it more than that? Was he always making excuses for him? As though the real Isaac wasn’t good enough?

  “Just trying to keep people from wanting to murder you.”

  “You’re not always with me. I do okay at keeping people from murdering me the rest of the time.”

  Because he lived on an isolated ranch, surrounded by people, who for some reason, tolerated his cantankerous nature. But he was right…he didn’t need Archer.

  Sometimes, Archer thought he was the one who needed Isaac. He didn’t have a ranch filled with people looking out for him. He had a string of meaningless relationships. Friends who would stab him in the back in a second if they thought they might gain something. And a family who weren’t any better. A family that Isaac had separated from a long time ago.

  “Sorry. I don’t mean to do that. I just…I…”

  “You’ve been doing it all your life. I get it. I was always the fuck-up. But I don’t give a shit what people think of me, Archer. That’s all you. It’s your hang-ups now. If you don’t like me the way I am… if you can’t accept who I am…then what are we even doing?”

  What indeed?

  He sucked in a deep breath but before he could say anything, Isaac stood. What he’d been about to say, he wasn’t certain. It wasn’t like him to be short on words, but Isaac had short-circuited his brain.

  “Gonna see if there’s another bathroom to take a shower.” He moved to the other doors, opening one. “Bedroom.” He opened the next one. “Bathroom.”

  “Do you think we should be going through her stuff?” Archer worried.

  Isaac just sent him a look. “I ain’t going through her panty drawers. I’m just seeing what’s behind these doors.”

  Archer rolled his eyes and grabbed their bags, setting them in what was obviously the spare bedroom. As he came out, he saw Isaac was still standing in the doorway to the other room.

  “Huh,” his brother said.

  “What is it? Don’t tell me she has a torture chamber?”

  Her questions when she’d first met him still amused him. The thought of her asking someone else, a stranger who might harm her wiped that amusement away. Why was she living in the middle of nowhere on her own? Isaac stepped inside, letting him move into his place. He looked around the small room. There was a desk with a laptop on it sitting in front of the lone window. Papers were strewn across the desk and then down along the floor. Seemed it wasn’t just the living area that was subjected to whirlwind Caley.

  Then he turned to look at the rest of the room. Surprise hit him. He spotted a huge, oversized bean bag in one corner of the room. Next to the bean bag was a bookshelf, filled with a mixture of adult and children’s books. But it was the other corner that really surprised him.

  There were train tracks set up and at different places along the track were small buildings and people made of wood. He moved closer. The detail was amazing. Everything looked like it had been created by hand. Unable to resist, he picked up one house and turned it over.

  Made for Caley, with love, Daddy.

  “Could be her real father made it,” Isaac said, looking over his shoulder.

  He guessed it wasn’t any of their business who made it. And lots of adults had train sets. But there was something about this set. Something special. Made for a little girl with love from her daddy.

  “I’m gonna go have a shower. Can you find some firewood?”

  “Sure.” But this had given him some food for thought. Maybe Isaac would never forgive him for Evelyn. But perhaps he could find someone to replace her in his frosted-up heart. A Little who was in obvious need of someone to take care of her.

  6

  When Caley stepped back out into the living room, she was surprised to find that the fire was roaring, and the living room was mostly tidied up. Dr. Cranky turned from where he was folding clothes at the table. There were piles of clothes set out. As well as an assortment of other things.

  “Hey, you found my flashlight. Awesome.” She picked it up. “Been looking for this.”

  “It was under a jacket. A jacket that you should have worn when you came to get us.”

  “Do you always scold people you don’t know?”

  “Only when they do foolish things.”

  She sighed and pulled the old, plaid robe around her. It had been Dave’s, so it hung off her. But like so many things of his, she’d been unable to get rid of it. Having it close made her feel less alone. If she kept his stuff here, then she could pretend that one day he would walk through that door and everything would be all right.

  “Thanks for tidying up. You didn’t have to.”

  He just gave her a look with those piercing blue eyes of his. “Nearly tripped on a pair of shoes and grazed the other side of my head.”

  She blushed, even though she was certain he was exaggerating. She looked up at his forehead which had a bandage on it. “How is it? Are you sure it doesn’t need stitches? Are you having blurry vision? Dizziness? Nausea?”

  “You a doctor in another life?”

  “Ahh, no.” She looked away. Right. He was the doctor, not her. “Where’s Archer?”

  “Having a shower. You look warmer. Feel better?”

  “Uh-huh. You found the bathroom then. You’ve had a shower,” she said belatedly, noting his change of clothes.

  “Yep.”

  Right, so he probably thought she was acting like a completely brainless twit. Of course he’d found the bathroom. He’d had a shower.

  “Sorry, I’m not used to being around people much.”

  She nervously twisted at the long sleeves of her robe as he continued to fold her clothes. He picked up a bra and she let out a squeak, snatching it out of his hands. “Maybe I should do that.”

  “I’m a doctor.” He snatched it back.

  “So what?”

  “I’ve seen bras. I’ve seen boobs. You haven’t got anything I haven’t seen or touched before.”

  Was he talking about as a doctor? Or a lover? What would he be like in bed? Intense. She shivered a bit at the thought.

  Stop, Caley.

  “Do you guys have anyone you needed to call?”

  “No, we’re good.”

  “Really? No, Mrs. Cranky at home?”

  She nearly groaned. Really, Caley? Why did you go and ask that?

  Now he was going to think she was interested in him.

  Aren’t you? Don’t you think he’s somewhat cute?

  Okay, more than somewhat cute. And she had to admit that the idea he might have someone at home waiting for him filled her with disappointment. It wasn’t like she was looking for someone… it had just been so long since she’d been around another man for more than fi
ve minutes.

  Is that why you’re attracted to Archer too?

  “Mrs. Cranky?” he drawled.

  Oh. Shit. In her anxiety over asking him about a possible significant other she’d failed to realize she’d called him by his nickname.

  “Umm, can I rewind the last few minutes?”

  “Nope. Mrs. Cranky? Meaning I’m Mr. Cranky.”

  “No,” she replied.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “You’re Dr. Cranky.”

  “Seems like an apt nickname to me,” a deep voice spoke from close behind her. Too close. How had Archer managed to sneak up on her?

  She turned slowly to look at him.

  Please don’t let him be half-naked.

  Please do let him be half-naked.

  Oh hell. She was so messed up. When she turned, though, he was dressed in a pair of navy, button-up pajamas.

  “Nice pjs, bro,” Doc said.

  “There’s nothing wrong with wearing pajamas,” Archer said stiffly. “Just because you prefer the caveman approach, some of us like to be more civilized.”

  “All you need are the grandpa slippers and a pipe.”

  Her head went back and forth between them. It was very clear they were siblings. Now that she had a chance to look at them closely, side-by-side, she could see more similarities.

  Archer was taller but Isaac was broader, more muscular. Not that Archer was lacking in that area. Archer’s chestnut-colored hair was neatly trimmed, his face cleanly shaven. While his brother’s hair was lighter and longer and he sported a short beard.

  Archer raised an eyebrow. “I forgot to pack them, my bad. Caley, I brought in some wood for the night. However, there wasn’t much out in the barn. Do you have another pile?”

  “Oh yes, I have some more coming in a few weeks.”

  Did she? She couldn’t remember now. She needed to write that down.

  “Have you seen a notepad around here?” she asked Doc who continued to fold clothes. Including her bras. Oh well, he was right. Wasn’t like he hadn’t touched them before. And the things that they supported. And hers weren’t all that impressive. Come to think of it, though, she could probably use some new bras. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d bought one. The one he held currently was looking a little worn.

  “Would one of those do?” Isaac nodded over at the pile of notebooks he’d placed on the other end of the long, wooden table.

  “Oh, yes, thanks.” She grabbed one, looking around again. He pointed at a truly enormous pile of pens.

  “Huh, all of these were hidden under clothes?” she asked, picking up one of her favorite pens and writing herself a note.

  “No,” Doc said. “Some were in the sofa.”

  She winced, thinking about what else could be under the sofa cushions. “You didn’t need to go searching under the cushions.”

  “Didn’t I? Also found around fifteen dollars in change.”

  “Really? Score.”

  “I put it all in a coffee mug for you. I haven’t looked under the sofa yet, so there may be more to add to it.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that. You’ve done more than enough.” She was embarrassed that he’d had to tidy her house.

  “Actually, I do,” he muttered bizarrely.

  “Isaac is a bit of a neat freak,” Archer explained.

  She stared down at her to-do list.

  Check on firewood supply.

  She tapped her pen against her chin as she thought about what else she needed to do.

  Get truck serviced.

  Pleased with herself for remembering that, she put the pad on the edge of the table and turned away.

  Archer dove for the pad as it slipped off the edge of the table.

  “Whoops. Sorry.” She blushed.

  Archer set the pad down. Isaac picked it up and looked at it. Then he grabbed the pen as Archer moved to the kitchen and started opening cupboards. Oh drat. She was the worst host. She was vaguely aware of Doc adding things to her list but ignored him and headed towards Archer.

  “Can I make you something? Are you hungry? Would you like coffee? Tea?”

  “Tea would be lovely. But I can make it.” He opened another cupboard and frowned. “Where is all your food?”

  “I have food.” She moved towards a pantry off to the side which had a large freezer. She pulled up the lid and grabbed a frozen microwaveable meal. “See? I have heaps. What do you feel like? Mac n’cheese? Hmm, you seem more of a shepherd’s pie man. Or maybe a roast? Pretty sure I have a roast in here.”

  “That is what you eat?”

  “Sure. I mean I buy some fresh stuff when I go into town.”

  “And you drive there in that truck with no seatbelt?”

  “Uh-huh. It’s okay, I drive slow. I used to attach a bungee cord as a makeshift seatbelt but it just got annoying.” She drew out a frozen meal. “Score, I have beef or chicken.”

  “Isaac!” Archer called out.

  “He doesn’t like to be called that.”

  “I am not calling him Doc.”

  She shrugged. No skin off her nose.

  “What is it? I’m busy,” Doc snapped. She thought it suited him.

  “Caley wants to know if we want roast chicken or beef.” Archer pointed at the packets of food she held. “She lives on frozen meals apparently.

  Doc frowned. “You what?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with frozen meals,” she defended. “They still have all the necessary nutrients.”

  Right? She actually had no idea. They were convenient and quick, which were her two main criteria.

  “They’re okay sometimes,” Doc answered. “At least we won’t get salmonella from them.”

  “Did he just insult my cooking?” she asked Archer.

  “He has a phobia about eating stuff other people cook. Think it’s got something to do with his OCD.”

  “I don’t have fucking OCD,” Doc muttered. “I just like things to be put away. In their place. And I don’t appreciate getting food poisoning. It’s not that weird.”

  Sure. Uh-huh. Not weird at all.

  “See, microwave meals are fine,” she told Archer.

  “You shouldn’t be living on microwave meals alone,” Doc continued. “You need fresh vegetables, fruit, protein.”

  It was Archer’s turn to give her a look of triumph. Rats.

  “It’s not like I can just pop out to the grocery store,” she mumbled. She shoved the meals back into the freezer. “If you don’t want to eat them, that’s fine. Help yourselves to whatever you like. There’s extra bedding in the closet in the spare bedroom, if someone wants to take the couch. Excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

  She walked into her office, knowing she wasn’t exactly being hospitable. But it wasn’t like they were invited guests. And she needed a little bit of space right then.

  * * *

  “That went well,” Isaac stated the obvious.

  Archer glared at him. He opened the freezer and pulled out the two frozen roast meals, then searched through and grabbed a third one.

  “I didn’t mean to insult her.”

  Isaac stared at the door she’d disappeared into thoughtfully. “Don’t know that she was insulted so much as overwhelmed.”

  Amazingly insightful for his brother. Archer shot him a look as he popped one meal into the microwave.

  “What?” Isaac snapped. “You’re not the only one who can read people.”

  “You’ve never seemed that interested in understanding other people.”

  Isaac shrugged.

  Archer frowned at the microwave, which didn’t appear to be plugged in. He followed the cord down. He switched it to a different socket.

  Huh.

  “Why isn’t this thing working?” It might only be a frozen meal, but he was starving. And tired. And it seemed he was going to have to sleep on a couch tonight since there was no way he was sharing a bed with Dr. Cranky.

  And he couldn’t let his injured
brother take the sofa.

  “What’s the matter? Can’t work a simple microwave?”

  Archer resisted the urge to hit him. Just. He waved his hand. “Let’s see if you do better.”

  Isaac sighed then a few minutes later, stepped back. “Must be broken.”

  “Seems there’s a few things around here that are. Did you notice the poor water pressure in the shower?”

  “And the weak patch in the bathroom floor,” Isaac added with a nod. “Got to be a leak somewhere, I’m guessing.”

  “If it doesn’t get fixed, it’s going to get so bad she could fall through the floor.”

  The fact she lived here on her own, with appliances that didn’t work and a truck that should have been crushed a long time ago didn’t sit right with him.

  “Not sure there’s a load of firewood coming,” Isaac told him. “And she said she uses her broom to keep her dryer door shut.”

  Archer frowned worriedly. “Think she can’t afford to get that stuff fixed?”

  “My best guess. Wonder what she does for work. Can’t be that many options out here.” He looked over at the door.

  “I’m not exactly good at fixing stuff but we could see what we can do while we’re here,” he suggested.

  Isaac just grunted. “We’ll be leaving in the morning and my head is aching. Doubt there’s much we can do.”

  Isaac regretted the words as soon as he’d said them.

  It was obvious she needed some help. Someone to take care of her. That was his big weakness. Being wanted, needed, important. He’d never been wanted growing up. He was the second son. Unnecessary to his parents since they had Archer. Golden child Archer who never did any wrong.

  Fuck.

  He had to get over this shit. It wasn’t Archer’s fault that their parents loved him and loathed Isaac.

  It also wasn’t his fault that Evelyn had preferred Archer to him. He got it. He did. He was an asshole. He could be weird. He could be hard and cold.

  Although he’d tried with Evelyn. He’d shown her his Daddy side. He’d thought she wanted all of him. The sternness and the cuddles.

  But no, she’d wanted Archer with his nice clothes, his impeccable manners and his penthouse.