Chapter 3
Chapter Three
CALEB
E than doesn’t say a word as he strides into the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee maker tucked against the far wall. He’s already dressed to work on the ranch—dark jeans and a black tee overlaid with a light blue plaid flannel. I glance at the microwave’s clock before raising an eyebrow. Ethan never wakes up before six in the morning of his own volition. And certainly not on a damn Saturday.
The ranch is more than successful enough to have hired hands to run the day-to-day, so weekends were spent with the three of us, a leftover tradition from before Kayla and Brandon died that we couldn’t manage to find the stomach to cut off.
“Thought you were letting the hired help run everything today,” I say. “Something happen?”
He nods but doesn’t offer anything more, going through the motions of getting a cup of coffee ready. When he’s added the creamer, he turns toward me, leaning against the counter.
“Dad texted last night saying the stream up north is dry. Need to get the cattle moved closer so they have access to the water troughs until another storm rolls through.”
Ah . He never lets them move cattle without him there. He scowls and takes a long drink.
“Not that I’m expecting anything soon,” he mutters. “This has been a dry-ass lead-in to summer. Not even the spring run-off has been enough to offset it all.”
That’s an understatement. There’s been a handful of fires up and down the range with a particularly nasty one running along the western slope in Colorado. I’m honestly shocked that I haven’t been called into one of them yet. Probably, Sam’s been running interference and calling other pilots first. He knows I’m not hurting for the hours—and every day Camden gets older.
Like it’s been summoned by my thinking, my phone alerts me with a text. I pull it from my pocket, cursing as I set it on the counter.
Official Notice. Report by 1100. Southwest of Boise. Exact location incoming.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“That the call?” Ethan asks. When I nod, he grunts and pulls out his own phone. “I’ll text Mom and see if she can take Cam for the day.”
A few minutes pass, and then he breathes out a sigh. He takes a drink of his coffee, focusing on me, his gaze inscrutable. I flip the pancakes onto a plate. Ethan is really good at those looks—something he learned from his dad. Sometimes he follows them up with a question, sometimes he continues on with his day. Most of the time, I prefer when he goes on with his day.
“I didn’t realize you went on a date,” Ethan says.
Yep, definitely prefer when he just moves on with his day.
I pour another pancake into the pan, making sure to not meet his gaze. The last thing we need right now is a full-on brawl, and even if the blonde woman from last night was nothing more than a one-time hookup, it doesn’t stop the instinctive rage at having my territory and decisions questioned.
“It was my night off.” It’s not really an explanation. Ethan grunts. I blow out a breath, trying to find some semblance of calm, and add another pancake to the pan.
“And?” he asks when I don’t offer anything else.
“And I had a date,” I say, giving up and looking toward him. His scowl is firmly in place, his eyes an interesting mix of angry and betrayed. “I didn’t propose to her. I bought her dinner and fucked her in my truck. I’m not expecting to have a follow-up. Stop freaking out.”
He ticks up one eyebrow.
“You know I’m not ready,” he says.
No shit. You weren’t ready for Kayla, either, fucker .
I swallow down the urge to say just that, but his eyes darken, and I know it must be written all over my face. The downside of raising a kid with your best friend—a best friend you once shared a bonded Omega with—is that they get really damn good at reading you, even when you’d rather they didn’t.
I flip the first round of pancakes onto a plate before turning to grab Camden’s plastic dishes and getting his breakfast ready. Ethan steps up beside me, seamlessly taking over without putting down his coffee. Grabbing the spatula, I focus on pouring the next round of pancakes.
“She was different,” he says after an extended silence.
I don’t bother to comment on whether Kayla was different. It won’t diminish the urge for change that’s starting to claw its way under my skin. I recognize it from the last time I felt it, over eight years ago: it’s the need to find an Omega and knot her until we’re so connected I can smell her in my dreams.
Footsteps patter down the hallway, breaking me out of the thought before it can manage to leave me with an annoying hard-on. I twist away from the stove just in time to see Camden come rushing into the room. He scans the living room before focusing on the kitchen. His eyes land on Ethan first, and he crosses the room, slamming into his legs before Ethan can put down the mug of coffee.
“Good morning, kid,” he says, some of the cynicism melting away from his voice.
“Morning,” he says, his voice muffled against Ethan’s jeans. “Riding today?”
Ethan nods. “Beau and I are moving cows.”
Camden grins, showing off his dimples. Damn, he looks like Kayla when he smiles like that. My chest tightens at the thought.
I’d thought the grief would get more manageable with time. Sure, I don’t think about them every single waking moment anymore. But when the moments come? They seem to cut deeper than anything I’ve ever experienced.
Making breakfast doesn’t erase the pain, but it’s certainly something I know how to do, something I’m good at doing. Knowing I’m caring for and protecting my Omega’s son settles the grief lodged so deep I feel it in my bones. Even after four years—nearly—of her being gone.
So, pancakes.
I flip the second batch onto the plate and pour the final group.
“Go with you, Daddy,” Camden says, suddenly serious. I frown. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve taken him. Except it’s always been us. Mostly me, to be honest. I saddle up Maple because he can handle the extra weight, and Cam rides double with me.
Ethan shakes his head and herds Camden to the table, grabbing the plate of food on his way out of the kitchen. “You can’t this time. Papa has to go to a fire.”
He sighs but nods. “Nana?”
“Yeah.” Ethan kisses his temple as he helps him into his booster seat, setting the plate full of food in front of him. “She said she has flowers to plant today. You want to help her with that?”
Camden smiles again, appeased by the available option, and then attacks his breakfast with a ferocity that has me mildly concerned for when he becomes a teenager. I’ll have to ask Mom how she managed all three of us during those years.
As soon as the final pancakes are finished, I dump them onto the plate and clean up. I kiss Camden on my way toward my room, running my hand through his blond hair. He glances up at me, his eyebrows furrowed enough there’s the little line between them, exactly how Brandon would get it.
“Love you, Papa,” he says around the pancake, garbling the words.
I grin and hug him, wrapping my arms around him. “I’ll see you soon, all right? You have a good time with Nana today and be a big helper with Daddy during the week.”
Camden nods without pulling away from me, his cheek brushing my shirt.
I kiss his temple again as I pull away.
“Be safe,” Ethan says, as serious as ever.
I nod before heading to my bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind me. It only takes me a few minutes to throw on a new shirt and grab my go bag. I sling it over my shoulder, shoving my phone into the pocket of my jeans. I keep the lights in the garage off, working off muscle memory as I situate myself in my truck and ease it out of the space. Another text from Sam comes through as I’m heading away from the modest house.
Pulling in the LATs for this one. Just bring yourself.
The sun is just cresting over the horizon, its rays a pale orange today, as I nudge the truck onto the highway, heading north toward Jackson and the small, private airstrip where I keep both of my planes in a private hangar.
The itchy need just under my sternum doesn’t lessen, though, and by the time I’m prepping my Cessna, I’m fighting back the urge to pull up the dating app I downloaded last week in desperation. Fucking that Beta last night clearly hadn’t been enough. I resist the urge, though. It’s not worth the fighting with Ethan.
Doesn’t change the fact that I clearly need something to change, though.