by Glynna Kaye
She shook her hair back with an appealing sassiness. “Fat chance.”
He rose to his feet, unable to suppress a grin and feeling more optimistic than he’d felt in months. “Watch me.”
* * *
“Tori?”
Later that evening, she glanced up from where she was sorting stacks of quilting fabric on top of her bed to see Cubby standing in the doorway. Dressed in Snoopy-themed pajamas, he looked adorable. She’d taken to leaving her door open during the daytime and early evening, even when she wasn’t on duty. Somehow it made her feel more a part of the household and it communicated to the boys that they were welcome to come see her at any time.
“Come in, Cubby.”
He joined her and reached out to gently pat a blue-and-white-striped square. “I like this one.”
“I do, too. That’s one of the pieces of material I’m going to use to make a baby quilt. You know, a blanket.”
His forehead wrinkled as he looked curiously around the room. “You have a baby?”
“No, no baby. I’m making a quilt to sell to someone who does have a baby.”
“I used to be a baby.” He looked her in the eye as if reassuring her of the truth of his statement. “But now I’m big.”
“Yes, you are. And someday you’ll be as big as your big brother.”
“Yeah.” Cubby’s eyes rounded. “He’s real big.”
“He is.” Not that she’d noticed that broad chest and the width of his shoulders...
Cubby sidled around the edge of the bed closer to her as he watched her sort the fabric. “I wish he would come see us again.”
“I imagine he will.”
“He doesn’t come a lot. When we were little, he did.”
“He has a business to run and has to work most of the time.” A struggling business, in fact. She’d felt his embarrassment when he suspected she’d seen the overdue notice. “But you’re special to him.”
Cubby shrugged, as if someone thinking you were special held no substance if it wasn’t backed up by action.
He ran his hand across a soft flannel fabric, then looked at her with hope-filled eyes. “Would you ask him to come again? Soon?”
“Time for bed, Cub.”
They both looked up to see Ray standing in the doorway, a troubled look on his face. How long had he been standing there?
Cubby frowned. “Already? But—”
“No buts. You know the rules, young man.”
Landon had confided them to her last week. For every bedtime delay, they had to go to bed ten minutes earlier the following night.
“Okay.” He looked at her glumly, Sawyer forgotten. “Good night, Tori.”
“Good night, Cubby.”
When grandson and grandfather departed, she shut and locked the door, again wondering about Sawyer’s relationship with the boys’ grandparents. Therese and Ray hadn’t said anything about keeping the boys away from Sawyer. Surely they would have if they had true concerns?
She hoped, though, that while she hadn’t promised Cubby to ask Sawyer to come again—soon—she hadn’t set false expectations in Cubby’s mind about Sawyer. Right now, his big brother had more on his mind than two preschoolers.
When he’d explained that afternoon about his cash-flow situation, she could tell he didn’t think she could understand, but she understood better than he assumed. While as a kindergartner she’d not been privy to the details leading up to her parents’ divorce, shaky finances had played a part in it—her father’s risky investments and, her grandmother later confirmed, the pair’s gambling habits.
On down the road there had been a few years of financial instability for her and Grandma, as well. Everything coming due at once. Rent. Car insurance payments. Utilities. Phone bill. Grandma’s unexpected medical expenses. They had to prayerfully choose which ones to pay off first, which ones to put down minimal payments.
Not a fun time. So she did understand his situation.
Sawyer said she shouldn’t worry, that she’d be paid. But even with housing, the part-time wage the Selbys provided wasn’t enough to cover more than the most basic of her expenses. Not enough to build a nest egg.
She ran her hand across the soft flannel piece that Cubby had stroked almost lovingly. So while she would do her best not to worry, if she wanted to stay in Hunter Ridge she couldn’t afford to miss a single paycheck.
She wanted to be here for the twins. And was more than a little intrigued by their big brother.
Chapter Six
“Are you not feeling well this morning, Therese?”
Tori knelt on the kitchen floor with dampened paper towels Wednesday morning, wiping up the powdered orange drink’s gritty granules. The open container had slipped from her employer’s hands moments ago, the second time that morning that Tori had observed a mishap.
Therese let out a breathy huff and wet a few more paper towels to hand to her. “I’m fine. That old arthritis acting up.”
“If you need any help opening anything, let me know. My grandma had arthritis in her hands, too, so I know how painful that can be.”
“Thanks, sweetheart. And thank you for cleaning up this mess—and the other one—so I don’t have to get down on these bony old knees.”
“What do we have here?” Ray peeked in the kitchen door. “Do we have our fair Cinderella scrubbing the floors now?”
“I dropped something.” Therese’s tone sounded cross, and Tori glanced up to see her brows lowered at her husband as if in warning. What was that about?
Tori rose and tossed the paper towels in the trash can. “Why don’t you let me mix your drink for you?”
“One for me, too, please,” Ray added, pulling out a chair for his wife, then seating himself across from her. “You’re working at the Outpost today, aren’t you, Tori?”
“I’m scheduled to. But Sawyer knew from the get-go that some flexibility would be required to prioritize my responsibilities to you and the boys. Do I need to make a few adjustments today?”
“If you don’t mind.” He folded his hands on the table in front of him, a determined look in his eyes. “Therese and I need to make a quick trip out of town.”
His wife gave him a sharp look. “There’s no need to disrupt Tori’s day. Or Sawyer’s either. Whatever it is you have in mind can wait.”
His chin jutted. “Maybe it can’t.”
“I’m more than happy to change my schedule.” Tori looked from one to the other. “Say the word and I’ll give Sawyer a call.” It wasn’t like she was waiting on customers. He wouldn’t be left in the lurch in that respect.
Both spoke at once. Ray with a grateful thanks and Therese with an uncompromising no, thank you.
Okay. Tori placed the drinks on the table in front of them just as the boys burst into the room, Landon scrambling into a chair next to his grandpa.
“May I have a sip, G’ma?” Cubby stood respectfully by Therese’s side, not making a grab for her drink as some kids Tori had worked with would have been inclined to do.
“You may.” Therese smiled as she reached for the glass. But she only succeeded in tipping it over, sending it rolling and the orange liquid gushing across the blue-and-white-checked tablecloth.
Landon and Cubby both yelped, but a quick-thinking Ray rose and snatched the glass before it rolled off the edge and shattered on the floor. His concerned gaze zeroed in on Therese, whose head was lowered.
Then she looked up, the usual spark in her eyes subdued. “I’m sorry, Tori. I’ve made another mess for you to clean up.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Ray helped his wife from her chair. “Maybe you should rest before we go.”
Landon homed in on that comment. “Where are you going, Grandpa?”
“Crazy,�
�� Ray shot back with a grin as Therese pulled away without argument and left the room. “Want to go?”
The boys laughed, waving him off. Ray nodded to Tori, his voice lowering as he stepped closer. “If you can make arrangements with Sawyer, it would be appreciated.”
“I will. No problem. But...is Therese okay?”
He offered a reassuring smile. “You know that old Arthur-Itis. Frustrates her to no end. But her meds may need some adjustment, then she’ll be as right as rain.”
He smiled at the boys, then followed in the direction Therese had taken.
Under the watchful eyes of the twins, Tori quickly removed the stained tablecloth and took it to the laundry room to soak. Grandma Eriksen’s arthritis had become increasingly problematic in the damper summer days when monsoons rolled across the state. Here in the high elevations, Therese not only had to cope with summer rains, but winter cold and dampness, as well.
“Can I drink Grandpa’s juice?” Landon peered over the countertop where she’d placed it.
“Yes, please do. And I’ll mix some up for you, too, Cubby.”
Both boys pulled out a chair and sat down, Cubby exchanging a knowing look with his brother. “G’ma drops a lot of things, doesn’t she?”
Landon nodded. So this wasn’t the first time the kids had noticed.
“That’s because her hands are stiff,” she explained. “They hurt. It’s hard to hold on tight.”
“Is that why she takes naps, too?”
“Maybe.” Tori hadn’t been aware of Therese taking naps, but then lots of adults took naps. “Power naps,” some called them.
She mixed up Cubby’s juice, then sliced a banana and started the oatmeal while the boys discussed the latest thing in kids’ toys that they’d seen on TV. She’d just set their breakfasts in front of them when the phone on the wall rang.
Landon leaped from his chair. “I’ll get it.”
He’d whipped the phone out of its cradle before the second ring.
“Selbys. Hello?” He nodded at whatever the speaker had said, then held out the receiver to her. “It’s for you. Sawyer.”
Why had he called her here and not her cell? He must have tried her number and she hadn’t heard it from where she’d left it in the apartment. “Good morning, Sawyer.”
“Hey, Tori. I was wondering...any chance you could come in earlier today? FedEx made a delivery and I could use some help getting it inventoried and readied for display.”
“Actually, I was about to call you. Something’s come up and I won’t be in today.”
“Are the kids okay?”
“They’re fine.” But she didn’t think the Selbys would appreciate her sharing personal information. Therese’s health appeared to be a sensitive issue, one that seemed to embarrass her. “Ray and Therese have business to take care of out of town and asked if I’d rearrange my schedule to be here for the boys all day.”
He was silent a moment. “Why not bring them with you?”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” She glanced toward the table, where Landon was flying his spoon rather aggressively in Cubby’s direction. Two active boys and a shop loaded with fishhooks, hunting knives and guns seemed like misadventure waiting to happen.
“Dad used to bring them here. You know, when Vanessa had other things going on. We didn’t have any problems.”
“I guess that would be alright.” Should she run it by Ray and Therese first, or would that give them something needless to worry about? “You know, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. They need to be around stuff like this anyway. Dad had big plans to make them outdoorsmen. Fishermen, hikers and campers.”
Sawyer sounded almost excited at the prospect of her bringing them with her. Maybe this was an opportunity for him to begin sharing common interests. Brotherly bonding. Time spent together without Therese and Ray looking over his shoulder. While unboxing merchandise and entering inventory into the computer, she could keep a close eye on them. Maybe they could even help her.
“Okay, then. We’ll see you soon.”
* * *
“And this,” Sawyer said from where he squatted in front of the boys, noting their rapt attention as he held out a flat circular device in his open palm, “is a compass. It helps you get your bearings when you need to know which direction to go.”
“That pointy thing keeps moving,” Cubby observed, as Sawyer turned his hand slightly.
“It will always point northward.”
“Like at the North Pole.”
“The opposite direction will always be south. And,” he said, pointing, “if this is north and that is south, then these two would be east and west.”
“The sun rises in the east.” Landon bobbed his head knowingly. “And sets in the west.”
“That’s right.”
Cubby leaned in for a closer look. “Where did you get this thing?”
“It used to belong to our grandpa. Our dad’s dad.”
Cubby’s eyes widened. “Wow. It’s old.”
Sawyer chuckled as he glanced at Tori, who sat across the room in the middle of a stack of boxes. He caught her amused smile. “Yeah, I guess it is old.”
“It’s funny, isn’t it,” Landon said, his forehead creased thoughtfully as he studied Sawyer, “that we have the same daddy? I mean, you look old. Like some of my friends’ dads. But you’re our brother.”
Sawyer smothered a smile and didn’t need to look in Tori’s direction to confirm she’d be laughing. “I guess it is kinda funny. And don’t forget, you have two other half brothers, as well. My big brothers.”
“I don’t remember them.” Cubby’s face scrunched. “Maybe a little.”
Brandon and Thomas had come for the funeral, and the kids may have seen them at the house. But both lived out of state and, having grown up in metro Phoenix, couldn’t understand their dad’s and youngest brother’s fascination with a dinky town like Hunter Ridge. Would his little brothers develop a love for Arizona’s backcountry as Dad had hoped, or hightail it on out of here after high school graduation and consider themselves well rid of the place?
He’d given some thought to what Tori said earlier about sharing common interests with them. He still had well over a decade to do his part to win them over on Dad’s behalf. He might not be the world’s greatest example in some areas of his life, but he did know and love the outdoors.
Handing the compass to Cubby, who cradled it reverently in his small hands, Sawyer stood to extract his wallet from his back pocket, then squatted again to pull a photo from it. “Recognize anybody?”
The boys crowded around.
“That’s Grandpa Banks, Dad’s dad.” He pointed to the oldest man in the picture, who knelt in front of a tent, towering ponderosa pines in the background. “Then our dad’s the one in the baseball cap. And that’s me with my backpack. I was thirteen.”
The photo had been taken a few years after his mother died. Grandpa, it seemed, had noticed his only son was floundering, directionless, and his youngest grandson had given up his own interests to keep his widower father company. So he decided to step in. That was the first of many outdoor adventures that Sawyer enjoyed throughout his teen years.
“Mommy and Daddy took us camping,” Cubby chimed in.
“No.” Landon shook his head. “That was a picnic.”
“Uh-uh. We had a tent, ’member?”
“He did take you on some day-camping trips,” Sawyer recalled. “Just not overnighters.” He wouldn’t mention to the boys that their dad and mom had been making plans for that come springtime. They’d bought a new sleeping bag for each and some other gear for pint-size fellows, later tossed out due to smoke damage.
Cubby looked at him wistfully, still carefully guarding the compass in his hands. “I wish you would tak
e us camping.”
“Yeah,” Landon echoed. “That would be cool.”
Sawyer glanced in Tori’s direction. She wasn’t looking at him, but no doubt was listening in, waiting to hear how he’d respond. He hadn’t done overnight camping at such a young age himself, but he had lots of friends who’d taken their diaper-clad kids along, hauling them around in carriers on their backs.
“Maybe...” He wouldn’t make any promises. He’d have to get Therese and Ray’s approval first. “Maybe I could take you camping. You know, someday.”
But the boys didn’t hear the “someday” disclaimer.
“Oh, man!” Landon fist pumped the air, and Cubby let out a piercing squeal.
You’d have thought he’d told them to pack up their gear and meet him at the pickup in five.
“Woo-hoo!” Cubby, too often solemn, grinned from ear to ear. “Can Tori go, too?”
Caught off guard at their enthusiasm, he motioned them to quiet down. “Hold your horses, guys. This isn’t something we can do right away. I imagine your grandma and grandpa Selby will need to think about it and probably ask us to wait until it’s warmer.”
“Awww.” Landon’s former smile dipped downward.
Cubby sighed. “G’ma and G’pa will never let us go.”
“Why do you say that?” Tori had left her inventorying and approached to join them.
Cubby looked up at her. “’Cause G’ma doesn’t like bugs.”
“Or dirt,” Landon added. “Or boys dragging it in the house on their shoes.”
“Your grandma doesn’t have to go if she doesn’t want to.” She made it sound as if this was a done deal, but he wasn’t naive enough to think Ray and Therese wouldn’t voice objections. “So I say we wait and see how they feel about it.”
A now-smiling Landon elbowed his brother, and Cubby giggled.
“Remember, too,” Sawyer added, “that you have lots to learn and gear to pull together before you can think about going on an overnight camping trip.”
The boys turned eagerly to him again.
“You’ll need backpacks and water bottles. Sleeping bags.” He had that stuff here at the Outpost and had often helped customers outfit their youngsters. Sunscreen. Pint-size sunglasses. Brimmed hats.
