Twenty-Four
Cam
The next month flew by. wyatt had told me not to bother getting him anything for his birthday. he insisted the house was enough, but i wanted to spoil my mate.
The way he’d reacted to me buying the house told me a lot.
First, that Wyatt, even though he had a good job and an education, didn’t have a lot of money.
Which, to be fair, was something I might have guessed.
Cal had bitched about Chip’s tuition, even though it was nothing compared to buying a house, and it was coming out of Chip’s trust fund, not Cal’s pocket. Still.
So I might have guessed that someone like Wyatt, who didn’t have generations of family money backing him up, would have had to go into debt to finish his education.
His car spoke to that too, and the fact he was living at Vern’s only consolidated it.
I knew he was paying rent, but Burt had been bellyaching to Cal that Vern was too nice—that he should have been charging a steeper rate for rent.
Although, that might have simply been because our ranch foreman was a bit shy and didn’t like that his partner had a roommate.
That was about to change. I’d spent the last week carefully arranging new furniture in our space, plus packing up my worldly possessions and moving them into the house.
I was just putting the finishing touches on the kitchen when Cal barged in, the back door banging into the kitchen wall. It groaned on its hinges, and I knew I was going to have to replace it sooner rather than later.
The place wasn’t anything spectacular. Nan Stevens had lived in the place probably since the 1950s or ’60s, and she hadn’t done a damn thing to update it.
I didn’t blame her; her husband had died young, and she’d been disabled in a car accident and had to leave the workforce early.
She’d lived frugally, but she’d really let the place go.
Now that she was in her nineties, some well-meaning niece or nephew had moved her to a home in the city, and they’d sold the place.
It hadn’t been cheap exactly—it sat on a solid few acres of prime farmland—but the house itself wasn’t much.
That was fine, I figured. I could fix it up; I was handy enough.
And I hadn’t told anyone yet, but I’d enrolled in some online courses to finish my high school and start an apprenticeship as a carpenter.
I’d already approached Freddy Turcotte about joining his construction crew to get some hands-on experience.
Not that Freddy cared much about “paper qualifications,” as he called them; he figured the best education a guy could have was a hands-on one.
After all, that was how Freddy had learned his trade.
Still, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to do the book-learning side of things. Freddy was pretty much the only construction outfit in town, but if I ever wanted to go solo or maybe Wyatt would want to move to the city or something …
I put that thought out of my head. Leaving Coyote Creek wasn’t something I’d ever really contemplated doing, not like most of my brothers. But if it was what Wyatt wanted, I’d do it.
“Got the stuff,” Cal said brusquely as he dropped some paper takeout bags on the kitchen counter.
“Thanks,” I said, then grinned and gave him a thumbs up when he pulled a bottle of champagne out of another paper bag. “And the cake?”
“Right here,” he said, setting down a white bakery box.
“Flowers?”
“Gotcha covered,” he said, pointing to the plastic-wrapped bouquet on the counter. “Seriously, don’t you trust me?”
I shook my head. “No, I mean, yeah. I do. I do trust you, Cal.”
He grunted at me, lifting a brow. I stepped closer, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thanks for all your help. I really appreciate it.”
He huffed and glanced away. “Wyatt’s a nice guy,” he practically grumbled. “Can’t have you breaking his heart or something.”
I grinned, then squeezed Cal’s shoulder a little tighter. He’d been helping me with the renovations and things had been going surprisingly smoothly, but he still knew how to get under my skin like nobody’s business.
The front door squealed open, and we both turned. The place was small enough that I could look right through the kitchen, through the living room, to the front door.
“Uh, hi?” Wyatt called, peering around the doorframe.
Cal clapped me on the shoulder, nearly knocking me forward into one of the walls we’d just re-drywalled. I glared at him.
“Oh, hey Cal!”
“Hey yourself,” Cal said as he sauntered toward the foyer. “Here, let me give you a hand with that.” He hefted up a suitcase, nearly stumbling under its weight. “Jesus Christ, Wyatt! You hauling bricks around?”
“If you are,” I said, “turn ’em over. They’re not cheap, and I wanna finish the east wall in them.”
“No bricks,” Wyatt said, flushing. “Just my stuff.”
“Huh,” said Cal, setting the suitcase down near the front closet with a thump. “Could’ve fooled me.”
He paused, then did a double-take at Wyatt. “Look at you!” he cried. “What’s Vern been feeding ya?”
Wyatt turned bright red. Rude, I thought, then elbowed my brother in the back, nearly knocking him over.
“Weren’t you just leaving?” I asked, lifting a brow as Cal recovered himself enough to breathe. “Lisa told me the Orchard sold yesterday.”
“Fuck, really?” Cal asked. “Already?”
“Mm,” I said. I’d told him because I knew full-well it would get his goat.
I didn’t know what was up with my brother and the old McLeod homestead—the place we all knew as the Orchard.
He’d had a bee in his bonnet since the place went up for sale about a week ago.
As far as I could figure, he’d had his eye on the place—which was hilarious.
Wyatt thought we were rich, but there was no way in hell Cal could afford the Orchard.
Without another word, Cal stomped out, leaving me with my thoroughly embarrassed mate. “Ignore him,” I said when the door had banged shut.
Wyatt was still looking at the floor—or, perhaps more accurately, his belly.
Cal had a point—he hadn’t seen Wyatt much lately, and, well, the veterinarian was a bit … softer than he had been when he first showed up. Still. It wasn’t Cal’s place to say anything, and it was ruder than rude to comment on it unsolicited.
“He’s right though,” Wyatt said softly, then grimaced. “Maybe I should … join a gym or something.”
I barked a laugh. “No gyms in all of Coyote Creek,” I told him. Then I cocked my head. “You could take up riding. Or running or something, if you felt up to it.”
Wyatt pressed his lips into a line. He glanced up at me. I took a sharp breath. “But hey—let’s not worry about that right now. It’s your birthday!” I held my arms wide. “I’m sorry I didn’t get the bathroom done yet, but come look at the kitchen.”
I basically ran into the kitchen. Wyatt followed me, almost hesitantly. “Look at these,” I cried, demonstrating the drawers. “Soft-close—pretty neat, huh?”
“Yeah,” Wyatt agreed easily.
“And what do you think of this?” I flicked on the lights, which showcased the backsplash and the glitter of the granite countertops. “Nice, right?”
“Mm.”
I followed Wyatt’s gaze to the takeout bags Cal had left sitting on the counter and nearly grimaced. “Uh—yeah, Cal was dropping off dinner. I wanted something special, but I figured why drag you all the way into town when we have this nice, new kitchen? Oh, and look at the dining room—”
I bounded through the door, then paused to see Wyatt still staring. “Hey,” I offered as gently as I could, “we don’t have to eat it if you want something else or you …”
Wyatt turned a sharp glare on me. “Who said I don’t want to eat it? It smells good, and I’m starved. I’m waiting for you to quit blathering about the renovations.”
That startled a laugh out of me. “Well, all right then,” I said, meandering back to the kitchen. “I thought you might be one of those folks who appreciated a good renovation. I stand corrected.”
“I’ll appreciate it when I didn’t skip lunch because I was mired in the muck from seven this morning with a cow that sprained a leg.”
This time, I did grimace. “Why don’t you grab a shower?” I asked, skirting to the cupboards. “I’ll serve us up some grub while you get clean. It’ll take a few minutes to reheat—Cal had to drive twenty minutes up the freeway for this.”
Wyatt sighed. “Sure,” he said.
“Use the ensuite,” I said, smiling. “The main bathroom is still out of commission.”
With that, I turned back to the cupboards, riffling around until I came up with some plates. I heard Wyatt pawing through his suitcase. Then his footsteps receded, and I turned my attention to fixing our plates.