Chapter 22
Colter
The Castlebrook Kayter Text Chain
Jake Williams
We gotta get those two out of the house. Just the two of them.
Harry Alvarez
Gonna have to wait on that. Ben’s sick and his moms are outta town.
Carol Quinten
Hold on now, this might work.
I’d spent the better part of the day with my brother checking fence lines, clearing winter debris, and patching up anything that looked suspiciously chewed. I had no service all day, which was fine by me. Sometimes I prefer it that way. It felt like stepping away from life for a moment.
Jake had peeled off at the ridge after asking if I wanted to go for wings with him and Finn.
I didn’t. I wanted to go home to my son and Kayla, and enjoy my version of peace.
But when I’d finally gotten to the point in my drive where I got reception back, my phone had gone crazy.
Calls from the school, calls from Mandy and Sylvie, calls from Kayla.
And the text, telling me Ben is sick and she’s taking him home.
Father of the year award goes to…
Dialing Mandy, I step down on the gas, even more anxious to get home now.
“Colt! Are you home? How is he? Kayla isn’t picking up her phone.”
“I’m on my way home now.” My teeth grind, and I speed up a little more. “I was up at Devil’s Peak.”
“He’s with Kayla, she’ll take care of him,” she assures me, and probably herself a little bit.
“She will,” I agree. She’s already done it before, maybe not while he was sick, but still. She loves our little boy.
“Call us when you check on them, would ya?”
“Of course,” I promise one of the mothers of my son. “He’s been sick before.”
“Yeah, but I’m always there with him,” she sighs.
“It was bound to happen eventually.” Mandy is definitely the most nurturing out of all of us, especially with Ben. She’s just always been that way.
She was born to be a mother, and I don’t mean that in a sexist way, I mean it because she’s the best mother I’ve ever seen—better than my mom ever was. Being away from Ben when he’s sick has got to be a challenge for Mandy, but it’s one she needed to face eventually.
“I know. I hate it.”
“I’ll phone you with an update.”
Ten minutes later, I pull into the driveway, headlights cutting across the gravel and catching on the swing. The house is quiet. No porch light. No noise.
I step into the foyer and immediately see Ben’s shoes by the door, dusty from recess. Kayla’s cardigan is tossed over the railing of the stairs. The washer is going, but that’s the only noise I hear in the house.
I don’t know if it comforts me or scares me.
I take the stairs two at a time, trying to be as quiet as possible. I don’t know what I’m expecting, maybe Ben asleep in bed and Kayla in her room, but I definitely don’t expect to find both of them asleep in Ben’s room.
Ben’s got his face smushed into Kayla’s chest like he’s a damn koala.
One of his hands is curled in her shirt.
Kayla’s head is tilted back on the pillow, and she’s lying on top of the blankets, her laptop at her feet.
Her mouth is parted just slightly, her arm draped around my son like it belongs there.
I kneel beside the bed, resting my elbows on my knees. A bit of damp hair clings to Ben’s forehead. There’s a faint flush in his otherwise pale cheeks. Anyone with eyes can see he’s sick. I don’t know how I missed it this morning.
He hadn’t told me he wasn’t feeling well. He hadn’t been acting any different. But how did I not notice?
Ben shifts in his sleep and lets out a little sigh. Kayla’s brows twitch, but she doesn’t wake.
Something swells in my chest, painful and raw.
I’m not sure what to call it. Guilt, maybe.
Or maybe it’s just plain-old awe. Because this woman, who was only supposed to be here for a few months, who was supposed to be just Ben’s teacher, just a temporary tenant, has roped us in with her big heart and sour sass.
There’s nothing temporary about her anymore.
I brush a hand gently over Ben’s head, and then—without meaning to—I let it hover near hers too.
Close enough to feel the warmth.
Close enough to wish I could touch her.
Close enough to admit, even if just to myself, that I want her here like this every night.
I pull back before I do something stupid.
Instead, I grab a blanket from my room and lay it over Kayla so she doesn’t freeze. Just as I’m about to leave to call Mandy, Kayla shifts. Her eyes blink open, heavy with sleep, and meet mine.
“Hey,” she whispers, voice rough and low.
“Hey,” I whisper back. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” Her hand curls more securely around Ben, who mumbles something and burrows closer. “He got sick at school. They couldn’t reach anyone, so Harry asked me to bring him home.”
“You took care of him?” I know the answer, but I want to hear her say it. I want to hear her voice.
She nods, eyes already fluttering shut again. “He wanted to come home.”
“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it more than I’ve meant anything in a long time. Kayla doesn’t answer. She’s already falling back asleep, her breath slowing. Her chest rising and falling under my son’s head.
And for the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself stand there and just watch. Not because I don’t trust her—but because I’ve never trusted someone so much.
I’m just about finished with the chicken noodle soup when Kayla finally wakes up.
She hesitates in the hallway leading to the kitchen, balancing on the edge of her feet.
I bide my time, waiting for her to make the first move.
After my overtop reaction last time she took care of Ben, I gather she’ll be more comfortable taking the lead this time around.
She steps forward, and I place the lid over the boiling pot and turn down the heat before turning to give her all my attention.
“Hi,” she smiles, fisting the bottom of her t-shirt. For the sake of my sanity, I’m gonna pretend it’s her brother’s and not some ex-boyfriend's.
“Hi,” I smile back instinctively. I only smile instinctively for one person—Ben. I guess now there’s a second name to add to that list.
She opens her mouth, about to say something, and then the color drains from her face. Her mouth drops open, and she stares over my shoulder like she’s just seen a ghost.
“What? What is it?” I whip around, looking for whatever’s scared her. “Jesus fucking Christ!” My heart stutters as I take in the large figure of a man standing on the other side of my sliding door. Taking large steps towards the door, I eat up the space quickly, wrenching it open. “Scott!”
“Hey, Boss Man!” He smiles, like he didn’t just make me shit my goddamn pants. “Got the stuff you asked for.” Sure enough, a plastic grocery bag is lifted into the air as evidence.
“I have a front door.” I wrench the bag out of his hand.
“Didn’t want to wake the little dude by ringing the doorbell. Saw the light was on and figured you’d see me coming.” He leans his body to the side, looking around me. “Hi, Kay!”
I bristle. He shouldn’t be seeing her in her PJs. That’s not for his eyes.
“Goodnight, Scotty,” my jaw clenches, teeth grinding. I can’t fire him again.
“Night, Boss Man, night Kay.”
“Goodnight, Scott,” Kayla’s soft laughter trickles into the night, mixing with the crickets to create a beautiful song. I slam the door shut with a little more intensity than needed, silently cursing my ranch hand.
“Are you hungry?” Deciding the best course of action is to just ignore Scott’s existence, I place the bag of groceries on the island and pull 2 bowls from the cupboard. “I made soup in case Ben wants to eat.”
“I’m sorry, I meant to cook. I don’t know what came over me.” She grabs the bowl I hand her, smiling sheepishly.
“I told you, you don’t have to cook for us, Kayla,” I remind her, waiting for her to dish herself up before getting my dinner.
“I like to.”
I watch her take a seat on the couch, curling into herself. I guess we’re not eating at the table tonight.
I don’t mind. “Where’s the blanket that was here?” I ask, noticing she doesn’t automatically wrap it around herself like she normally does.
“Ben puked all over it, it’s in the wash.”
“Poor kid,” I grumble. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
“You’re not mad?” Her brows furrow, and she stares down at her bowl of soup, avoiding making eye contact.
“Why would I be mad?”
“I took him out of school without permission?”
“Kayla, you live with the kid. It’s not like you kidnapped him.”
“But I’m not his parent.”
“You’re not just his teacher either, though, are you?”
“I thought I was just the guest.” I don’t like the frown that graces her face as she says it. I don’t like the words coming out of her mouth. It feels like a punch to the gut, and I can only imagine how it felt for Kayla to hear it coming from me.
“I’m an asshole. A big, surly asshole who fucked up. Again.”
“You do seem to fuck up a lot,” she smiles crookedly.
“I’m learning, I promise I am.”
“I don’t know which Colt is the real you,” she sighs, still holding her bowl of soup, but not eating. “This one or the asshole.”
“I have bad days, and I snap. But that’s not the real me. This is the real me. I’m learning how to not let my stress get the best of me, but it’s a lot of rewiring for an old guy like me. Give me a little grace, and call me out when I’m being an ass. But don’t run away. Not again.”
“You’re not that old,” she grumbles, finally taking a sip from right out of the bowl. No spoon or nothing.
“Sure,” I chortle.
Kayla shifts uncomfortably. “I had no idea what I was doing,” she breathes. “When I was young and sick, it was best to just suck it up and go to school, since it meant getting away from my mother. I hope I did enough for Ben. Maybe I should go and check on him?”
“No point in hovering while he’s asleep, Sweets,” I promise her. I choose to ignore what she just said about her mother as a preventative measure. If we keep talking about it, I’ll punch something. Hard. “Why don’t you just sit down for a few minutes. How’s Ben?”