Chapter Six

Jake

O n her belly in the middle of the mattress, Cora kicked and pushed up with her hands, grunting and grimacing.

“Good up-dog!” I said from where I knelt at the end of the bed.

She whined, ready to cry at any moment. She wasn’t in the mood for tummy time, and frankly, neither was I.

“Hey, um, do you have a shaving mirror?” I asked Cam.

He was in the kitchen—reorganizing a drawer?—and he silently disappeared into the bathroom, returning with the round mirror. Over jeans that hugged his thick thighs, he wore a cream, cable-knit sweater that made me think of Chris Evans in that whodunit movie.

“Thank you.” I smiled as I took the mirror, but Cam’s dour expression didn’t flicker. Keeping my voice cheery, I slid the mirror in front of Cora. “Look who it is!”

But she still whined, her reflection not entrancing her today. I sighed and mumbled, “Come on.”

Cam was back in the kitchen. He said, “Why are you doing that if she doesn’t like it?”

“It’s important for her development. If babies spend too much time on their backs, they can get flat head syndrome. They have to sleep on their backs, so we try to get them on their stomachs as much as possible.”

We. I almost snorted. I was talking like a parenting pamphlet, which were all, we this, and we that. It was me, myself, and I running this show.

Toby licked my face, and I laughed, pushing at his muzzle. “Thank you for your support.” He wagged his tail and licked my hand. Once Cora and I were settled, I’d have to weigh the extra expense and responsibility against the comfort of having a dog.

I let Toby lick away at the back of my hand and asked Cam, “Where’d you get him?”

“He got me. I was working out on the south paddock on Mr. Pinter’s herd. Toby showed up and spooked the cows. He only wanted to play. Hal Jr.—” Cam broke off. His back was to me as he emptied a drawer onto the counter.

“Mr. Pinter’s son?” I prompted after another beat of silence.

“Mm-hm. He was in town. Thought Toby was a coyote. Toby was scrawny, but any fool could see he was a dog.”

“Is Hal Jr. a special kind of fool?”

Cam made a huffing sound, and my heart lifted as I realized it was a reluctant laugh. “He is.”

As I turned the mirror this way and that, trying to keep Cora engaged as she kicked, I asked, “He didn’t want to be a rancher?”

“He’s an ‘entrepreneur.’”

The disdain dripped from the word, and I chuckled. “Who still imagines himself as a rancher too? Let me guess: Did he move to Calgary?”

Cam sounded surprised. “Yep.”

“I haven’t been in Toronto that long. I remember the type.” I petted Toby with one hand, squirming my face away to avoid more kisses, and shifted the mirror for Cora. “I’m glad Toby found you.”

“Me too. Hal Jr. was going to shoot him.”

I jerked. “Fu— dge . Good thing you were there. Poor Toby.” I stroked his head, letting him lick my ear. “I bet Hal felt like a fool when he realized it was a stray dog.”

“He would’ve been happy to shoot us both.”

“Whoa. That’s dark.”

Cora pushed higher with her hands, and I smiled and encouraged her. One of the weird things about being a parent was having serious conversations or watching awful things on the news while simultaneously making big happy faces for Cora.

“He wouldn’t really,” Cam said. “He’s many things, but he’s not evil.”

“Just petty and stupid?” I gasped playfully for Cora and mumbled, “Big push!”

Cam grunted assent.

“He didn’t want to stay and take over the ranch from his dad?”

“Not the day to day. He’ll inherit, along with his sister in Edmonton. He’s got lots of grand plans, but he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty.”

My hands were still full with Toby and Cora. My knees were getting sore, but I didn’t want to disrupt Cora’s flow now that she’d focused on the mirror. I squirmed as Toby licked my ear again.

“How will it affect you when Hal Jr. takes over one day?” I asked.

Cam grunted again. “It’ll be a pain in my ass.”

I waited for more, then prompted, “Could he kick out you and the yaks?”

“I bought this land fair and square from Mr. Pinter. I’ll own the road to my new house too. Mr. Pinter made sure of that. Still have years of payments to make to the bank, but it’s mine.”

“That’s amazing. Mr. Pinter sounds like a great guy.” I made a surprised face for Cora. “How did you end up working for him?”

Cam was quiet for so long that I wasn’t sure he’d heard me. Then he said, “My dad was his foreman. When he had the heart attack, Mr. Pinter drove him to the hospital himself while one of the ranch hands did CPR in the back. It was no use, but they tried.”

That rang a faint bell, and I cursed myself for not remembering. “I’m sorry. So, he gave you a job?”

Another long silence. Cam stood like a statue in the kitchen, his back to me. Unease crept down my spine.

Finally, Cam said flatly, “He was the only one that would. After I was arrested, U of A took back my admissions offer.”

That hit like a freight train, and I pushed to my feet with a surge of adrenaline—quickly followed by horror and shame. I should have known all of that, but I’d escaped to Toronto, my scholarship to U of T intact since I hadn’t been arrested.

I was breathing heavily, and I shook my head as if I could make it untrue. “Cam, I…” I could barely look at him—though his back was still to me. Then I glanced down and gasped.

Standing there in Cam’s reindeer onesie, with regret filling me to bursting, I watched Cora roll over onto her back for the very first time.

As Toby barked once uncertainly, I exclaimed, “Oh my god!” Joy elbowed in, and my eyes burned with the mess of emotions.

“What?” Cam was there in two strides, peering down at Cora with concern.

“She rolled over. She rolled over!”

I’d grabbed his arm without thinking, the muscles warm and solid beneath wool. It was such a thrill to have someone there to share the moment with. I wanted to throw my arms around him and whoop, but caught myself.

My eyes burned as I scooped up Cora. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie.” I kissed her soft cheeks. “She did it all on her own! I was hoping she would soon, but you never know,” I babbled to Cam before placing her back on her tummy on the bed.

He looked down at her, a whisper of a smile softening his expression.

I crouched. “Can you do it again, Cora? Come on, show Cam.”

It was probably ridiculous, but I wanted him to see her roll over so badly. I almost forgot who it was and where we were, but as we stared at Cora kicking on her stomach, Cam standing awkwardly, I remembered.

I forced a laugh. “I mean, she’s not a dog. Sorry. I’m sure you have better things to do.” Toby tried to lick my face again, and Cam returned to the kitchen, beckoning Toby to follow. He reached for a bag of dog treats, making Toby sit before giving him one.

Standing at the sink, Cam said gruffly, “That’s good that she rolled over.”

“Yeah.” My face burned. He probably thought I was being ridiculous. “Thanks. The perfect Christmas present. I’d wanted to get a tree and decorate for her. Wrap presents that she can’t really open yet. Stupid, I know. She’s too young. But it’s still her first Christmas.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“Thanks.”

There was so much more I wanted to say— needed —to say, but the air felt thick. And before I knew it, Cora’s poop face was back.

The day ticked by. The power went out, but Cam had a generator. The phone line was dead too, so we were well and truly cut off from the world. Not that Uncle Steve was going to be calling to check on me and Cora.

I slept when Cora did, curled up in Cam’s bed. I swore I could feel his eyes on me, but it was surely only my overactive imagination. Aside from talking to Toby occasionally, Cam and I had lapsed into a fraught silence.

Or at least it was silent until Cora started crying.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, bouncing her in my arms as I rubbed her back. Her wails didn’t subside, and I desperately tried the bottle again. It’d been over an hour of her crying, and the cabin was so small, and the fire in the stove so hot. I tugged at the neck of the onesie.

Sitting in his rocker, still wearing the sexy sweater over jeans, Cam muttered, “Babies cry. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, but there’s usually a reason.” I urged her to drink, but she flailed her arms, red-faced as she screeched. “Okay, you’re not hungry,” I mumbled.

I checked her diaper again. Dry.

“Come on.” I was close to whining. “ Please. What’s the matter, sweetie?”

She’d been great earlier. She’d rolled over ! That victory seemed a million miles away. Cora’s piercing wails only intensified, making me cringe.

I paced the tiny kitchen as Toby started barking. A building headache stabbed behind my eyes. What I wouldn’t have given to go back to the awkward silence that had permeated between me and Cam all day. I’d take any kind of silence.

Cam’s book was still open, but there was no way he could concentrate to read. It was getting dark again in the late afternoon, the white outside the window dimming.

“Toby!” Cam snapped his fingers, and Toby stopped barking, though he still peered at me and Cora uncertainly.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

Cam shook his head. “Dogs bark. Babies cry. Just like we talk.”

“Well, she talks a lot more than you.” I said it without thinking.

His jaw tightened. “What do you want me to say?”

I rubbed my face. “I don’t know. Whatever you want. Or not, in your case. I guess you never were a big talker. Except when baseball cards came up.” I glanced around, eager for the distraction. “Do you still collect them?”

“No,” he replied stonily.

His tone made me think it had something to do with me. As Cora wailed, my chest tightened with a punch of guilt. He’d loved baseball and baseball cards. Sure, I’d been the star pitcher on our school’s team, but it was small-town Alberta. I’d never been destined for the major league—or even the minor. Had I ruined the whole sport for him?

Eyes screwed up, face red, Cora kicked and screamed. “Shh, shh. It’s okay.” I paced between the fridge and the sink and suddenly stumbled over Toby. My heart lurched as I gasped and righted myself, squeezing Cora tighter. Tail wagging, Toby circled us.

“Toby!” Cam leapt up, the chair rocking back and forth violently in his wake. “Enough.” He ushered Toby into the bathroom and shut the door. He didn’t slam it, but the air still felt thick.

“We’re fine,” I said, placing Cora in the drawer atop the bed. I sat on the side of the mattress and put a hand on her tummy. “You want to sleep again? Here you go.” I wanted to beg, “ For the love of all things holy, go to sleep! ”

She kicked her feet, screeching.

As I rummaged in the duffel, trying not to panic and failing miserably, Cam loomed on the hearth, hands on hips. He asked, “Does she do this a lot?”

My heart thumped. “Not like this.” My fingers searched the bottom of the duffel. “It’s in the car,” I mumbled. “Do you have a thermometer?” It wouldn’t be the in-the-ear kind I had, but anything would do.

“She’s sick?” He stepped closer, frowning.

“I don’t know!” I hadn’t meant to shout. I swallowed hard, pressing my hand to her forehead. Toby barked in the bathroom, and Cora screamed, and I wanted to jam my fingers in my ears.

“Does she feel warm?” I asked, which was stupid since I was the one touching her forehead. Her skin was flushed, but was it from a fever or working herself up into a state over something I couldn’t figure out for the life of me?

Why won’t you stop crying?!

I wanted to scream it, shout it, screech it to the heavens. “She’s usually so good,” I croaked. My ears rang, Cora’s high-pitched wails vibrating through the stuffy air.

Cam’s gaze on me felt oppressive. He said nothing, but of course he was judging me. Who wouldn’t? Why couldn’t I get my daughter to stop crying ?

I couldn’t catch my breath. Why was it so hot? I yanked at the collar of my onesie and pushed to my feet. Cora’s screams filled my head, and there was no room left to think or breathe. I couldn’t leave her—didn’t want to leave her—but I couldn’t do this.

Anna was right.

Uncle Steve was right.

What was I thinking? I had no business taking care of a baby. I was useless! She was upset, and I couldn’t fix it.

I can’t do it.

I can’t do it!

Cam gripped my shoulders, the pressure strangely comforting. He was saying something I couldn’t make out over Cora’s cries and the buzzing in my brain.

Then I was sitting on the side of the bed with Cam towering over me, his hands still on my shoulders. He spoke again, and I read his lips.

“ Breathe. ”

With a shudder, my lungs expanded, and the buzzing faded. Cam nodded, and I inhaled again. Cora hiccupped, and I scooped her up. “It’s okay,” I mumbled. “I’m here.”

Gently, Cam pressed the back of his big hand to her forehead. “I think she’s just warm because she’s worked up.”

My heart still hammered my ribs, but I could breathe again as Cora’s cries subsided. I sat with her on my lap on Cam’s bed, and I drank the cool glass of water he pressed into my hand. Holding Cora in my arms, I inhaled her sweet, powdery scent as she finally— finally —settled.

“You’re doing it,” Cam said.

I blinked up at him. “What?”

He waved his hand. “Before, you said you can’t do it. But you can.”

Apparently, I’d spewed my existential parental angst aloud. Sh—oot. “Sorry about all…that. This.” I hadn’t had a nervous breakdown since the first week after bringing Cora home from the hospital. I’d thought it was one and done.

“You don’t need to apologize.” Cam’s words hung between us, and he pressed his lips together, suddenly turning back to the fire.

The awkward tension returned in an instant. It was like we were doing some kind of strange dance. Two strangers—but not strangers—stuck in a room together with a baby, a dog, and emotional baggage piled higher than the Rockies.

After nestling Cora under the blanket in the drawer, keeping my hand over her, grounding her as her eyes closed, I whispered, “I really do need to apologize.”

Cam sat abruptly in the rocker, not facing me. “It won’t change anything.”

“That’s true.” I wanted more water, but Cora still fidgeted under my spread hand. If I moved, she might wake and start crying again. “But…”

Over the years, I’d imagined what I’d say if I ever came face to face with Cam again. Well, his back was to me in the chair, but it would have to do.

I said, “That day, I—”

“ Stop. ” Cam stood to face me, backlit by the fire in the stove. Darkness had fallen completely while Cora and I had melted down.

“I told you I don’t want to hear it. The only reason you want to apologize is to make yourself feel better.” Cam’s face was shadowed, but I could hear his clenched jaw in every word.

Wincing, I opened my mouth, but the protests died on my tongue. “You’re right.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Nothing. I mean—no, that’s not true. I want to explain. I guess I want you to listen.”

“There’s no excuse for what you did.”

“Agreed!” I leapt to my feet, holding my breath as I watched Cora. She fidgeted with a grimace but was finally falling asleep. I kept my voice low.

“It was inexcusable. Unacceptable. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life, and I wish I could change it. We both know I can’t. I guess what I want is for you to know how fucking sorry I am.” I glanced guiltily at Cora. “Fudging. No, fucking! I’m so fucking sorry, Cam.”

He watched me for an uncomfortably long time before replying in a low tone, “No, Jake. You can’t drop into my life out of nowhere with your pretty eyes and apologies. It’s too late.”

My heart sank even as my breath caught. I stupidly said, “You think my eyes are pretty?”

Cam hissed, “That’s not the point! And before you tell me you’re flattered, I don’t need your straight guy generosity.”

“I’m not straight.”

He scoffed, motioning to Cora.

It was my turn for my jaw to clench. “Bisexual people can have babies. For that matter, so can gay people, but whatever. I’m bi.”

“Bullshit.”

I forced a deep inhale and exhale. “It’s not, actually. I didn’t know in high school, but I should have. I’m bi.”

Cam shook his head. “You’re screwing with me.”

My indignation morphed into confusion. “Why would I do that?”

“For old time’s sake?”

We both clearly wanted to shout, or at least raise our voices, but we were having a whisper fight because of Cora. Whining, Toby scratched at the closed bathroom door.

“You think after you literally saved our lives that I’d want to hurt you?” The knot in my stomach tightened. “It makes me sick to think that I almost killed her.” My eyes burned. “Cam, I owe you everything.”

He turned away, opening and closing the stove door, the metal scraping.

“And I never, ever wanted to hurt you. I know I did, but it wasn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t fun. I don’t blame you for thinking the worst of me, but I didn’t want to hurt you then, and I don’t now. And I don’t get why me being bi upsets you, but—”

“It doesn’t!”

“ Stop ,” I hissed. “It clearly does! Why?”

“Because you know I want you!” Cam balled his hands into fists.

“I…” All I could do was blink at him. “You ‘want’ me? Present tense?”

Cam growled, which shouldn’t have turned me on—and most definitely did. I took a step closer to the hearth, trying to smother the unexpected burst of desire. My heart thundered in my ears, and my dick was hard in an instant.

“I want you too,” I whispered in the orange firelight. As I said the words, I knew they were true.

Cam closed the distance between us with a stride—and kept walking. At the door, he tugged on his boots.

Disappointment crashed through me. “Where are you going?” I watched him zip his coat and fumble with his toque and gloves. “It’s dangerous out there.”

Cam snorted, a sort of humorless laugh, before thudding the door shut behind him, an icy whirl of air snaking through the cabin.

After partially covering Cora’s drawer with a blanket to make sure she was out of the draft, I opened the door. Night had fallen—or slammed down like a rockslide. It wasn’t only dark, but another snow squall left zero visibility. I couldn’t tell if it was actually still snowing or if it was simply the wind blowing it.

I pushed the door shut and brushed snow from the onesie. Cam had surely gone to check on his horse in the barn. He knew his way.

The minutes ticked by like hours.

Cora was asleep, and I automatically lay down next to her on the bed even though I wasn’t tired at all. That wasn’t true—I was exhausted. But my stomach gurgled with acid, and I was way too wired. There was no way I was napping. I let Toby out of the bathroom, and we both paced.

When he barked and started pawing at the front door, I hurried over and opened it, bracing against the gust of snow. Toby bolted out, disappearing immediately in the maelstrom.

“Cam?” I called.

The howling wind was the only answer.