Chapter 9 Caleb
NINE
CALEB
My heart sinks when I get the text from Winnie.
WIN:
road’s cleared enough for Cassidy and the kids to leave. I found them somewhere to stay for a couple of nights. Mom couldn’t get her an interview with Fletcher and Mariott. Don’t tell her that. Still working on it.
WIN:
be nice when you kick them to the curb.
I press my lips together, lowering my cell to my chest. The rest of the cabin is quiet, Cassidy and the children still sleeping. All I want to do is ignore these texts and pretend like we can keep this peace forever. All I want is to hold them close.
Maybe what I’m doing is selfish. As badly as I want to show her I can be more for her—for all of them—I also don’t want to push them away. And even though I’m sure I made progress with the kids yesterday, that means nothing to Cassidy in the long run.
Because one morning of bonding compared to what could be a lifetime of everything she assumes I hate?
She won’t make a decision like that.
Slowly, I get off the sofa and shoot Winnie a text acknowledging what she said, telling her to send through the details and that I’ll take them into town.
The roads might be cleared, but Cassidy’s car won’t handle the actual drive down the mountain again, and I won’t risk it.
And anyway, I’d rather make sure they get where they need to go safely, with my own eyes.
I pull on boots and a heavy coat as I leave the cabin.
My back porch, which overlooks the forest, still carries a thick layer of snow.
I’ll admit, it’s been nice these last couple of days not being on top of it all.
Getting to stay in and just enjoy the days rather than filling the silence with work and other tasks that need to get done surprised me.
Normally, I’d find something to fill my time. It’s second nature at this point. There’s always something for me to do: a list I need to complete, a task I can check off to make my life easier.
I expect to feel some sort of…resentment over not having this one thing done, but I don’t. No tightening in my chest, no twist in my stomach as I consider how long it’ll take me to complete now. Nothing except a sense of ease, knowing it’ll get done, regardless.
With a sigh, I pull up the realtor's website, find the number for one of the managers, and hit call. I know him well enough to know he’ll answer.
It takes three rings to pick up. “This is Bryce Fletcher of Fletcher and Mariott Realtors. Are you looking for—”
“It’s Caleb Wilton,” I interject, keeping my voice low as I put him on speaker. “Look, I know my mother has been trying to get a hold of you about a position.”
There’s a beat of silence on the other end, one that gets filled with a sigh. “Okay. Yeah. Your mom has been insistent on us interviewing someone. But we can’t—”
“I’ve had to listen to Henry moan about you not having enough staff. So, what’s the issue? Cassidy has a resume. She has her license, doesn’t she?” I ask, crossing my arms, heat building within me from frustration. “Is it because she’s a single mom?”
On the other end, Bryce sighs again. “Okay. Okay. Her resume is dated, and being a single mother, how can I rely on her? Be real, Caleb. I know they’re a protected class here in Willow Ridge, but I’m running a business.
I can’t be chasing her up for inspections and sales because she’s distracted by her kids. ”
The frustration quickly shifts into something else. Something that feels like rage. “Is that really what you think?” I ask darkly, voice harsher than I’d intended. “Especially with the way you were raised? Or is that different because you didn’t have a mother?”
“Fuck me,” Bryce hisses. “That’s a low blow.”
“No, it isn’t. And you fucking know it,” I snap.
“Your father basically built the mill from the ground up and gave people jobs who needed it. Single parents especially. He’d be pretty fucking disgusted if he heard the way you spoke about Cassidy.
And might I add, you know nothing about her.
Not her work ethic, or her life. If you’d bothered to interview her, you would have seen how bright and intelligent and kind she is.
You would have seen she could not only handle the work, but she’d blow your expectations out of the water.
But you didn’t. So, you have no right to judge her on anything, you callous prick. Jesus fuck, what is wrong with you?”
“It’s business, Caleb. That’s all it is.
” There’s another beat of silence, one that has the anger swelling again.
He’s a fucking coward. Always has been. And I shouldn’t be surprised at all that the man who peaked in high school has this sort of thought process.
I’d just hoped maybe he’d actually listen.
Finally, after another long moment, he groans.
“Yeah, no. I don’t know if I can justify it.
If she had actual support, then maybe. But I know enough about her situation from your mother and Winnie to know I won’t be able to rely on her.
And really, you haven’t exactly helped her, Caleb.
You probably just blew up her one chance at getting a job here, and good luck finding anywhere else who’ll hire her with this bullshit. Don’t call me again.”
And with that, he hangs up, tearing everything apart.
“What the hell did you just do?” Cassidy asks from the doorway.
I spin. I hadn’t even heard the sliding door open, but there she stands with her cheeks pink from the cold, one of my coats wrapped snugly around her body. Tears brim her eyes as she stares at me in horror.
“Did you just blow up my chance at getting a job?” she says slowly, keeping her voice low.
A lump forms in my throat. “Cass—”
“No, wait.” She holds up a hand, stepping into the cabin.
I quickly follow her as she turns away from me.
“You just cost me my one chance at doing a job that could actually give myself and my children a decent shot here. And then maybe destroyed any chance of me getting a job anywhere in town. Is that what he meant by that?” She whirls towards me, the tears falling.
“Did you just ensure I will never work in this town? Ever?”
My mouth goes dry as I try to fumble with an answer, but everything she asks me has a very simple response: yes.
Yes, I did just destroy her chance at getting a job. Yes, I might have just stolen away her ability to get work elsewhere.
Cassidy presses a hand to her forehead, her breathing hard.
Before I can explain, Arlo and Cleo walk out of the bedroom, eyeing their mother first, then me.
I can tell they sense something is wrong, and that I’m the problem.
They go straight to their mother, gluing themselves to her sides while sending me harsh looks.
All the progress I’d made with them—with Cassidy—disappears in an instant.
I really am a bastard.
“The roads have cleared,” I say, clearing my throat.
“Winnie texted and said she found you guys somewhere to stay for a few nights that isn’t the motel.
It’s down the mountain, so you’ll have everything you need and access to the town again.
I don’t know how well your car will get through the snow, so I can take you down if you prefer… ”
Cassidy cuts me a look I can’t read, shaking her head slowly as she wraps her arms around the children. “I’ll text Winnie about getting the details for the accommodation. I don’t think there’s anything else we need from you, Caleb.”
That cuts through me like a knife, making it impossible to breathe, impossible to think beyond the fact that I just royally screwed up. Worse, I did irreparable damage that I can’t fix. Damage that could mean losing her forever.
You already have, a voice whispers in the back of my head as I watch her guide the children towards the bedroom. She knows exactly who you are now.
A bastard. A selfish asshole. Someone who doesn’t deserve the kindness of the woman walking away from me.
But I suppose I’ve made her choice for her now.
She can’t stay in Willow Ridge after this.
And it’s all my fault.
I can’t remember the last time I came down to Daisy’s willingly, but I know I can’t stay at my cabin.
Not when the ghosts of them roam the bedroom, their laughter a whisper in the kitchen.
And especially not when I know if I sit on my sofa, I’ll still feel her above me, the pressure of her body like a soothing blanket I never wanted to leave.
Only now they’re gone. She hadn’t taken my offer to drive them, but I’d guided them all the way to the end of my access road, pushing the snow out of the way with my truck so they didn’t get stuck.
That was the last time I saw them. Now, they’re in a cabin at Sterling Ranch, tucked away safe where they’ll make their next choice.
Most likely, they’ll sell the land, then move away. It would be the smartest choice. Although I doubt Bryce Fletcher will work the sale after all this.
I mean, she won’t want to do business with him. Not when he insulted her. So, there goes his commission, at least.
One beer has me thinking about Cassidy again, forcing me out of the bar. The iciness of the night should be powerful enough to knock some sense into me, but it doesn’t.
WIN:
I think someone is creeping around the cottage. Should I tell Cassidy?
I blink hard, staring at the message as the cold settles in around me. I take a few moments to start the truck and formulate an answer.
ME:
I’ll check it out. Don’t bother her.
It’s the least I can do after fucking everything up. I drive until I find myself in front of two houses. One is the building I wanted to escape so badly I went up the mountain.
The other the home that could have been.
There are lights on inside my mother’s home. Someone, probably Winnie watching the cottage. Even from the car, I hear one of the kids shouting. There’s always noise. Always something going on beyond those walls.
Instead of going towards it, I walk in the other direction.
No one bothered to clear the sidewalk where the ruins sit, nor the path leading up. It doesn’t look like the snow has been disturbed, either, but I keep going.
I spent so much of my life looking out my window and staring at this house. At the cottage it’d once been, all the way to its destruction. I watched the first window break and the first step crumble.
Maybe that’s what I do. I watch it all, making no impact. And when I try to step in, I’m the one who destroys what’s good.
I ruined any chance of having a future with Cassidy. I destroyed any chance of her children having a future here. And I’ve probably run them off for good.
Every part of me hurts, making it almost difficult to move, but I push through the snow until I’m outside the cottage.
All the windows are broken, have been for a while.
The steps leading up to the porch look like a sledgehammer was taken to them.
And the porch itself is one step away from collapsing in on itself.
From memory, there’s a storm cellar around the side.
If anyone were going to stake it out, then they’d likely check there for a safe way in.
Somehow, I trudge through the snow until I locate the doors.
A heavy deadbolt locks it, surprisingly unharmed despite the years of misuse.
Of all the places, I would have expected this to be open.
It doesn’t look like anyone has been here. I should count my blessings. Or maybe I’d hoped there was something, so I had a reason to see her again.
The chill settles into my bones as I make my way back to the truck. I’m almost tempted to let it take over, but don’t. I can’t.
I know it’s just misplaced hope, and yet as I crawl into the whisper of warmth, I have to wonder if there’s more I can be doing. More I could fight for.
It’s what I think about as I drift into sleep.