Chapter 19
chapter
nineteen
Caleb and Millie finished the last stretch of leaves in companionable silence, the rake scraping softly over damp ground.
Caleb straightened, rolling his shoulders, when a familiar car turned into the drive and entered through the gate.
“That’s my mom,” he said, the words leaving him before he thought about them.
Millie glanced up. “Really?”
He nodded, already heading that way. “She’s here to fix dinner.”
Millie fell into step beside him as the car came to a stop near the house.
The driver’s door opened, and a slender woman with dark brown hair and a wide smile climbed out.
His mother. She popped the trunk and started pulling out paper bags full of groceries.
“Mom,” Caleb said. “Good to see you.”
She smiled at him, the same smile that had steadied him his whole life.
“You look tired,” she said before leaning in and kissing his cheek.
“Long day.” He took a couple of bags from her hands.
Millie reached for two more without being asked.
His mom’s gaze shifted to her, curious and kind. “Well, you must be Millie.”
Caleb made the introduction quickly. “Millie, this is my mom. Mom, this is Millie.”
He’d already told his mom that Millie was here, and he’d explained a little of their history. He didn’t want her to be surprised.
“Call me Ruby,” she said, her smile widening. “Everyone does.”
Millie smiled back. “It’s nice to meet you, Ruby.”
“Nice to meet you too.” Ruby glanced toward the house. “I’m getting a head start on dinner. Fried chicken tonight.”
“It’s award-winning,” Caleb added. “People from all over the state practically beg her to make it for them.”
“That sounds delicious,” Millie said. “Can I help? I’ve always wanted to learn how to cook fried chicken. Mine doesn’t turn out crispy enough.”
Ruby’s approval was instant. “I’d love that.”
They started toward the house together, bags rustling between them. Caleb walked a half step behind, watching the easy way his mother and Millie fell into conversation, like they’d always belonged in the same space.
Something about it was satisfying—entirely more satisfying than it should have been.
His mom had built a good life for herself after her husband died. It wasn’t a loud one or an easy one. But a steady one.
She’d never dated—had never seemed to feel the need.
Instead, she spent her time where it mattered—helping Luke with his kids a couple afternoons a week, helping Wyatt organize search and rescues, driving out here four days every week, dropping everything when Rowan called from California in crisis.
She held the family together in ways no one ever thanked her for out loud.
Caleb adjusted his grip on the bags and followed them toward the door.
He didn’t know what any of them would do without her.
Then again, that was how family worked.
At that thought, he glanced at the concrete pad near the side door and squinted.
A small silver bolt laid there.
A bolt that was surprisingly similar to the one missing from the security camera.
Had someone in the house sabotaged those cameras?
The kitchen smelled like flour and oil by the time Millie washed her hands and joined Ruby at the counter.
Ruby had already rolled up the sleeves of her red sweater and tied an apron around her slim waist as she moved with easy efficiency.
She was taller than Millie had expected—and younger. She was in her fifties, and she’d aged well.
She could almost pass for one of the siblings.
There was nothing rushed about her, even as she worked. She hummed under her breath, as if cooking was less a task than a habit.
Millie immediately liked her.
Naomi wandered in a few minutes later, coffee mug in hand. She stopped short when she spotted her mother. She crossed the room without hesitation and leaned in for a hug.
“Hey,” Naomi said, her voice softer than Millie had heard it yet.
Ruby kissed her temple. “Hey, sweetie. You eating with us later?”
“Wouldn’t miss your fried chicken.” Then she glanced at Millie, her expression warm. “You surviving cooking with my mom? She doesn’t cut much slack—especially when she’s making her award-winning dishes.”
“So far I’m hanging in.” Millie flashed a grin.
Naomi laughed. “I’m going to leave you to it. I still have some more numbers to crunch before I call it a day.”
She headed back out as easily as she’d come, leaving the room quieter but no less full. Millie watched her go, something tightening and loosening in her chest at the same time.
This was the kind of family she’d always imagined—people who moved in and out of each other’s lives without ceremony or explanation.
Her own family had never been like that. Her family was cordial, distant, and carefully spaced. She’d stopped wishing for closeness a long time ago, knowing it wouldn’t magically appear. But that didn’t take away the longing.
Ruby slid a cutting board closer to her and began instructing her on how to cut up a whole chicken. Millie promised she’d give it her best.
“All right, Millie. Tell me something about yourself.”
Millie blinked. “What kind of something?”
“Not the hard stuff,” Ruby said gently, as if reading her thoughts. “Just you.”
Millie opened her mouth, then hesitated. The question shouldn’t have been difficult. Somehow, it was.
She lowered the chicken leg in her hand.
“I love dogs. Always have.” She smiled faintly. “I’m a grant writer.”
Ruby raised her brows. “That sounds important.”
“It pays the bills, but it’s not very exciting. However, I’m very thankful that I was able to get my old job back after my divorce. Even though sitting behind a desk all day isn’t my thing, I do enjoy the work. I took a leave of absence to come here, however.”
“What is your thing?” Ruby asked, genuinely curious.
Millie considered how to answer.
“Campfires. Hiking.” She paused, then added, almost shyly, “I’d love to go to the Dolomites someday. Hike the Tre Cime di Lavaredo. I’ve never been to Europe.”
Ruby’s eyes lit up. “That sounds wonderful.”
Millie smiled, feeling unexpectedly seen.
They worked for several minutes in silence.
Millie hesitated, then said, “I’ve always tried to make crunchy fried chicken, but I’ve always failed. What’s your secret?”
She leaned closer and lowered her voice, “Between you and me, it’s the double fry method. I’ll teach you.”
“I’d like that.” Millie cut the last piece of chicken as Ruby began setting up the dredging stations and explaining the next steps.
At a break in their conversation, Millie said, “Your kids seem . . . really great. I’m impressed by what they’re doing here.”
Ruby’s face softened, pride shining through. “They’re not perfect. But I’m so proud of them. All of them.” She hesitated, then added, quieter, “Caleb . . . well, I didn’t know if he’d ever be the same after—”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Valentina appeared, her presence cutting the moment short.
Ruby turned with a welcoming smile, and whatever she’d been about to say slipped away, unspoken.
After what?
Millie worked in silence for a few minutes, listening to the rhythm of the kitchen, unable to shake her sudden, insistent curiosity.
What event had happened in Caleb’s past that she didn’t know about?