Chapter Twelve
C al took the steps to Seth’s fancy games room and bar two at a time. BBQ starting at six p.m., the phone message had said but one of the young pregnant heifers he’d bought from Beth had decided to calve—a result of a bull getting over her at the wrong time of year, and he’d had to bring her into the barn and put her in the stall with the underfloor heating, and stay until she’d given birth and satisfied himself that all was well before leaving them.
The calf was small, which in this case was a blessing given heifer wasn’t yet full grown. The calf was weak, but Cal hadn’t left until it had a belly full of mother’s milk and with the assistance of a canvas sling to help it stand and suckle, he’d made it happen. All part of a herdsman’s daily duties, and truth be told, it was the part he loved most.
“Don’t nag because I’m late. The heifer count has just increased by one,” he announced to everyone in the room. A room containing three of his brothers, Maddie, Mardie, his mom, young Claire, and Beth and Sam, too. “Is this a special BBQ?”
“First of December, dude. Christmas lights are up,” Seth offered sagely.
Cal glanced around, because clearly this room was free of them.
“The outside ones,” Jett added, who’d likely been up on the roof all day helping string them in place. “Couldn’t flip the switch before you got here.”
“Well, we could , but Maddie wouldn’t let us,” Mason said and earned himself a glare from Maddie and another one from— hello —Cara Sefton, Mason’s Achilles heel, who’d just walked into the room from the interior entryway. That explained Mason’s strained grimace. He’d probably been hoping to eat and escape hours ago.
“Let’s go,” he said with a smile for Sam who raced up for a quick hug, then headed outside.
“Did you bring the dogs?” the boy hollered, hollering being okay because he was outside.
Mindful of rules, Cal obligingly stuck his head out the door to yell, “No.”
He’d taken them back to the cabin after the calving. There’d been something in the pup’s eyes, and he still hadn’t done as his mother suggested and taken the animal to the wolf experts, but he intended to. He caught his mother’s eye. Soon.
He stepped out and waited for others to pull coats and gloves on and join him. He waited for Beth who was one of the last to exit, pleasantly surprised when she snaked her arm around his waist. They didn’t normally do too much touching in public. Man, did she make up for it in private.
“Was it one of my heifers?” she asked. “The little one with the white star?”
“Yep.”
“Sorry. That’s even earlier than I was expecting.” She let go of him as they reached the spot where the others had gathered and he missed her warmth and weight and her laugh when they’d tried to fall into step with each other and failed.
And then the Christmas lights came on.
Seth and Maddie’s fancy ranch house that they’d spent a fortune restoring really was a pretty sight with all its twinkling golden lights. They even had a pretty outside Christmas tree dressed up in gold lights and red tinsel. Maddie being Maddie, the whole design had probably started out tasteful. Seth being Seth, overabundance had somehow taken hold.
“Hey, Mom and Cal, look up!” Which he did, but not before noticing that Sam now had a fishing rod in his hand and on the end of a very short straight line above his head danced a mighty clump of mistletoe. And a fairy light or two and a bow.
“School project?” he asked mildly.
“Jett and Seth helped me make it.”
“Family tradition,” Jett said with a grin, and since when was hanging mistletoe of a fishing rod a family tradition? Didn’t they know Beth was trying to rein in her passion?
And then Cal remembered grimly that one of them did.
“This mistletoe follows you around everywhere until you kiss. Do I really have to remind you of this?” Jett continued blithely.
Given that this was no tradition he’d ever heard of, let alone experienced, yes .
He narrowed his eyes and glared first at Jett and then Seth, because there was no doubt in his mind that this was a setup. He’d have glared at his oldest brother too, only Mason had disappeared. All the other faces lit by fairy lights and the moon looked various shades of amused.
“Mom, Cal, c’mon. You have to kiss. It’s the rule.”
He made the mistake of glancing at Beth, and he was a goner. She looked so pretty with her flyaway hair and shyly hopeful smile. “Are you in on this, too?” he murmured, catching her by the waist as she lifted her arms to his shoulders.
“Not exactly, but there’s something I have to tell you when we get a moment alone.”
“A bad something?”
“A very good something.” But he was only half listening.
A peck, he decided. A chaste peck would have to do. He could pretend she was a bucket full of three-day-old fish bait. Pucker up, brush warm, mobile lips that definitely weren’t starting to part for him— think of the salmon ! Aa-and retreat.
These were the things a man had to do.
“That’s it?” Sam asked moments later, his face a study in disappointment. “ Mom! ”
“Practice always helps,” Seth said sagely.
Cal would be seeking revenge at some point. It was the rule.
“My family’s not always like this,” he muttered, tucking Beth beneath his arm. “They’re a bad influence on Sam, I get it. I’ll be having words with them.” Moments later, she buried her face in his chest and started laughing uncontrollably. “What?”
“If only that was true.”
*
The next time Cal called on Beth to take her out for a meal in Marietta, she practically flew out the door to meet him and was halfway to his truck before he’d even got out of it.
“What’s up?” He opened his door to get out as she opened hers to get in. “Because it looks like you’re being chased by a bear.”
“Mistletoe,” she said, with no small measure of dread. “It’s everywhere. Every doorway. Hanging from light fittings. And let’s not forget the fishing rod.”
“Right.” The fishing rod.
“Or the grandma pecks.”
“Who could forget the grandma pecks?” Because she’d eventually told him about her conversation with Sam and the grandma pecks, too.
His heart had never felt so full as it did when he’d discovered that Sam wanted Cal in their lives to the extent he’d had words with his mother about her unacceptable lack of kissing enthusiasm.
That moment had been golden.
“Who’s the babysitter?”
“Your mom.”
“Because I really can’t be seen to be scared of mistletoe, in front of my mom and your son, now can I? What kind of message would I be sending to the youth of today if I came across as too scared to practice something I wasn’t automatically good at? That would be bad.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you are the most irritating man.” She grabbed him by his coat lapels and laid a kiss on him that scorched every brain cell he had. He was still partaking of her when Sam’s outside holler reached his ears.
“Guys. Guys. The mistletoe’s over here .”
“I had lipstick on two minutes ago,” she muttered. “And now you’re wearing it. And Sam and your mom are standing at the door, aren’t they?” Her back was to them as if she dared not turn around.
“In my mother’s defense, she birthed five boys.” And maybe being one of them had rendered him far more immune to embarrassment than Beth. “The practice of kissing is not new to her.” He headed toward them, with Beth beside him hastily scrubbing at her lips. “Mom, Sam, greetings. Wow, would you look at that! Mistletoe. And he scooped Beth into his arms and planted a teasing kiss on her willing lips—a kiss that lasted a slow count of ten and definitely included tongue—before turning heel, taking her hand, and heading for his truck.
“Practice makes perfect,” Sam called out from behind them.
“That it does,” he bellowed back, and then softly for Beth’s ears only. “What time does he have to be in bed by?” If he was going all-in on the claiming of Beth, he might as well up the ante on what he intended for Sam, too.
“Ten.”
This required his outside voice. “Ten o’clock bedtime, dude. Don’t wait up.”
*
The trouble with living the dream was that every so often reality raised its head, Beth decided as she moved bed sheets from the washer to the dryer.
Sam was still Sam and given to testing his limits, and Beth was still his mother and charged with reining him in.
Cal was still Cal and given to prioritizing ranch work and dog training—for which he often required Sam.
The rest of the Caseys were still Caseys, which had always meant unconditional acceptance of her, and especially of Sam.
Which meant Sam was getting way too used to being in and out of their households alongside Cal or on his own. Jett, the Olympic gold medalist , had offered to take Sam skiing. Seth had taught him how to swing a hammer, and there were Christmas gift shenanigans happening up in Cal’s workshop. Shenanigans that saw Sam setting off on his pony bright and early Saturday mornings, with a detour past Savannah’s to fill his belly with cookies. Beth’s boy was growing up before her eyes, and even more inclined to check the fences and keep an eye on the cows because Cal never stopped looking and checking and Cal was Sam’s hero.
This was the kind of world she’d only ever dreamed of. The stability and the support and the way Cal never failed to make her believe she was the first person he thought about when he woke up every day and the last one he thought of each night.
It was right there in his eyes for all to see.
Even Sam had started smiling at the kissing.
*
“Wolves in the valley,” Sam said, as he trotted his pony into the barn around lunchtime after having spent the morning up in Cal’s workshop. “Cal says they’ve got tracking collars on.”
“How many?”
Cal slid from his pony and started to unsaddle him while Beth took hold of the reins. “A pack.”
“No more riding your pony by yourself. Who brought you home?” Because there was no way any man in this valley would let her boy ride solo if wolves were around.
“Jim. He says hi but he didn’t want to stop, because he has to get his sled team home. Cal’s gone to bring the heifers in.”
“Alone?” Because if there were wolves in the valley, no one should be out there alone.
“Chessie and Bo are with him.”
“Is he on horseback?”
“Ski mobile.”
Maybe a ski mobile was the better option. They certainly made more noise than a horse. Still. “Alone.” A shudder ran through her. Bad things could happen to people when they went out on the ranges alone.
She knew she was projecting and thinking of Red and that this was a completely different scenario. The sun was still in the sky, for one. There was no snowstorm bearing down on them. Other people knew where Cal was and what he was doing. And yet.
She could feel her stress level rising and her mouth tightening as she fought to keep harsh words about men who thought they were invulnerable locked deep down inside. Cal wasn’t Red. He was careful and methodical, with a wealth of ranching knowledge behind him. Cal would never abandon them to go off and seek cheap thrills for the hell of it.
Hold to that.
“Who saw the wolves?” There. A nice, easy, casual question.
“Cal, up near his place. They were walking along the tree line. He saw them from the deck but by the time the rest of us came outside they were gone. I didn’t see any. Wish I had.”
She nodded. Up near Cal’s place. “Maybe I’ll invite him to stay down here with us tonight. That okay by you?”
“In the spare room?”
“Sure. I mean, he may not want to stay at all. He’s got thoughts on this being your father’s home, and he doesn’t want to trample on the memories we all made here, but…” Too much information for her wise ten-year-old. “He could stay.”
“What if I want him to?”
“Say it to his face.” And watch his smile light up the room. “I’ll say it, too. I like the thought of us keeping each other safe. Even though we all try to stay safe out here anyway.”
Because even though Cal wasn’t reckless or arrogant or careless like Red, sometimes recklessness played no role in what happened to a person. She saw examples of that every time she worked a hospital shift.
Don’t dwell on it. “What’s everyone else up to?”
“Seth and Jett are bringing Seth’s herd down into the barns, as well, so they’re all in the same place. They’ll take turns keeping watch.” Sam nodded and expelled a happy sigh. “I’m so glad we sold this place.”
“So am I.” Wolves. In the valley. She couldn’t imagine what she’d have done if she’d had to protect her herd by herself. “Let’s get your pony in his stall and head back to the house. I feel like doing some baking.”
“Cinnamon rolls?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Cherry pie?”
“Could do.”
“What about gingerbread men?”
“I do like a new challenge,” she said. “Promise me you won’t go wandering off alone. Not even from the house to the barn to check on the horses. Not by yourself, you hear?”
“Who’s going to feed ’em?”
Fair question. “We both will. Together. Morning and night.” Which was how they used to do it, but she’d grown complacent of late. She who knew the dangers of smug complacency better than most. “Promise me you’ll be extra careful.”
“I promise.”
“A crossing-all-ten-toes promise.” She knew her kid. “And fingers. Even if the Caseys go out in their pack to look for tracks, you’re not to go with them.”
“But, Mom .”
“No.” She was leaving no wiggle room here at all. “Promise.”
He had his father’s stubborn scowl, or maybe it was hers. “I promise.”
*
There hadn’t been a wolf pack in the valley for years, and the first thing Cal had done was phone Montana’s Department of Fish, Wildlife, and Parks to see if this pack was being tracked by GPS. Most of the wolf packs in Montana were. But they’d wanted information he hadn’t been able to give, like how many were in the pack and what the color mix was, and he only had rough answers. Somewhere between six and ten animals, sharing a mix of colors starting with gray. He’d seen them in the distance as they’d run the edge of the tree line. And wasn’t the purpose of fancy GPS collars and tracking systems to let researchers know instantly where a wolf pack was? Why did Cal have to tell them ?
There’d been no livestock losses to report, so he couldn’t ask them to open an investigation.
He didn’t have a lot of confidence in them getting back to him with answers.
TJ had been downright excited at the prospect of having a wolf pack in the valley, but TJ lived several states away, so what use was he?
And call it a sixth sense, but when he and Jim had been moving those heifers along, he hadn’t been able to shake the feeling of being watched. Jim’s sled dogs had been on edge the whole time and Beth’s cows had never seemed happier to get through an open gate and head down the road toward the barn.
He’d waited until his brothers had brought the rest of the stock onto the flat, and together, they’d made short work of laying out extra hay and molasses and checking that the six-wire electric fence surrounding this main winter barn and paddock area was running strong. Not their first rodeo when it came to protecting stock from predators, even if this was their first wolf pack.
“You heading to Beth’s or Mom’s?” Jett asked when they were done.
Seth had returned to the Love Ranch. Jett’s Mardie and Claire were in town, and he’d offered to take first watch. Cal would then take the night shift.
“I’ll do mom.”
Cal’s protective instincts had always been strong. Now they were working overtime, but that was one less person to worry about. “I’ll see to Beth.”
*
“Mom, they’re here!”
Given that Cal and his canine companions had just stepped into Beth’s kitchen, and she was smiling straight at him, the kid’s comment seemed unnecessary, but Sam always had been the type to say most of what was in his head out loud.
Cal had recently begun to think of Sam’s chattiness as a sign of his happiness.
“I haven’t had time to drop the dogs off at my place and I didn’t want to leave them in the truck,” he said, by way of apology when Beth took one look at his dogs in her kitchen and raised an eyebrow.
“Sam, you’re on dog duty,” she said and rolled her eyes when her son pumped his fist in the air and then called them to his side. She pointed a fork at Cal. “And you’re a bad influence.”
A little bit of snark might circumvent her need to fling herself into his arms and demand that he never leave her.
“ Mo-om , he couldn’t have left them outside. There’s a wolf pack out there.” Sam, Cal’s fiercest defender, and maybe they were forming a little pack of their own, each with designated roles to play. Each of them gifting and receiving strength.
She gave in to her need to cross the room and hug the man, closing her eyes when his arms came around her, as if he’d been right there waiting to receive her all along. “Any more sightings?” she asked.
“No, but they’re out there. I found some fresh tracks heading up through the Gap. With any luck, they’ll keep on going. Either way, it’s my job to prevent them from acquiring a taste for livestock.”
“Do you think a wolf pack hunted my dad up a tree?” Sam asked quietly, and suddenly all the breath seemed to squeeze from her lungs.
She couldn’t have answered to save herself, but Cal took it in stride, crossing the room to take a seat at her kitchen table and giving Sam his full attention.
“I don’t know why he got up that tree. It’s possible something hunted him up there. The coroner’s report doesn’t say much. No punctures. No rips in his clothes. Hypothermia, most likely.”
“He shouldn’t have been out there in the first place,” Sam said belligerently, and how many times had her boy heard her say exactly that? “It was stupid .”
Too many times, in those early days.
Too much criticism because fear and pain had ruled her.
“True.” Cal’s voice was quiet.
“Do you think he was scared when he died?”
“Yes.”
Casey men dealt in truth.
“I miss him,” Sam said in a small voice. “He wasn’t always great, but I do.”
Cal nodded. “I miss mine, too. That’s just normal.”
“Yeah, but your dad was great.”
“Nah. No one’s perfect. But he did have a world of good in him, and there’s something peaceful about knowing that there’s a part of him that lives on in me, and maybe it’s the best part. The not stupid part. It’s all the good things he taught me. All the smiles he gave to me.” He tapped his heart. “They’re in here.”
Suddenly Cal had Sam in his arms, and the big man—the impossibly kind man—looked up at her and opened one arm and what was she to do but join them? He was right there, inviting her in, and she was so far gone on him.
For as long as he wanted her, she was all-in.
“Mom made cinnamon rolls.” Sam’s thin arm had snaked around her too. “They’re even better than last time.”
“Impossible.”
“No, it’s true,” she murmured. “Practice makes perfect.”
Sam scrambled out of the group hug and pointed toward the ceiling. “And look! Mistletoe!”
Kissing ensued.
A kiss that teased and tempted, and deepened with just enough promise to give her a rosy glow.
Cal was smiling as he let her go. “How was that mistletoe kiss?”
She made a sound. Could have been a meep that meant anything. Might have been a whimper that said I’m all yours, how can you possibly not know?
“You’re getting better at it,” a small voice from afar. “Isn’t she, Cal?”
World, meet Samuel Calvin Evans. Her champion.