She looked torn between wanting to believe him and being utterly unable to do so. That was okay; Cam was used to proving himself.
Finally, Winnie sighed and squeezed his hand. “What you did for me, helping me get to the funeral, means more than you’ll ever know. Thanks for letting me say good-bye to him with you. But I absolve you of any further obligation. Really. It’s not your fault Rowan’s gone.”
Her honest grief hurt. Not that his grief wasn’t honest. It was, and that shit went soul deep, so much so that he wasn’t sure he could ever climb out. But his grief was tainted by guilt. So much fucking guilt. Because it was his fault Rowan was gone, and his alone. He hadn’t realized how much that would hurt, or how it would twist everything inside him, leaving him feeling lost and alone. He’d gladly give up everything to see Rowan again, to tell him how fucking proud of him he was for following his heart, for not letting circumstances dictate his direction in life. But he couldn’t. So he’d do this, watch over what Rowan couldn’t. “You shouldn’t keep this a secret from your siblings.”
“Gavin knows,” Winnie said.
“But not Piper.”
“Not yet, no.”
“Listen,” he said. “Take it from me, secrets like this tear families apart.”
“It’s . . . complicated.”
“Secrets always are.”
Winnie sighed. “She also doesn’t know I dropped out of college.”
“Why did you drop out?”
She shrugged. “I was never into it.”
He absorbed this for a beat, worried that the real reason was money. Rowan wouldn’t have wanted her to quit because of that. “Is it too late?” he asked. “Because I can help you with the costs.”
“It’s not about the money. I only went in the first place to make Piper happy. I hated it. I wanted to be back here. Having morning sickness meant a lot of lying on the bathroom floor thinking too much, but the truth is that staying in college isn’t practical. I couldn’t graduate before the baby came, so what’s the point? Plus, I really want do something with my hands. I want to be useful. And I’m going to do that from here. Somehow.”
“Are you sure? Because seriously, whatever you need—”
“All I need,” she said very gently, “is for you to promise not to tell my sister any of this. Not until I’m ready.”
Fuck. “Don’t ask that of me, Winnie.”
“Please,” she said softly, meeting his gaze. “It’s just all too much right now, okay? First, losing my best friend—”
“Seems like Rowan was a little more than that.”
Winnie swallowed hard and looked down. “Maybe. We didn’t know, we didn’t realize until after we sort of accidentally slept together one night. Things might’ve changed then, but right after, he went back East to visit with you for a few weeks, and he . . .”
“Never came home,” he finished quietly.
She nodded and bit her lower lip. “And then I was in school, realizing that nothing felt right anymore, not class, not being out on my own, nothing . . .”
“So you came home.”
She nodded again, looking very young and very unsure.
“Have you been continuing to see your doctor, the one you mentioned at the funeral?”
“Yes. I had my patience tested. I’m negative.”
He snorted. “Copy that.”
“Doc said mama and baby are fine.”
“Good. And I mean it, Winnie, when you need anything, just let me know. We can work out a way for me to cover your bills without any invasion of privacy. But . . .”
She looked into his eyes, her own incredibly vulnerable and young. “But . . . ?”
“You need to tell Piper.”
“I know. I will,” she promised. “When I’m ready.”
He drew in a long breath. “I’d do a lot for you, Winnie, but I’m not comfortable with lying to her.”
“Well, I don’t feel comfortable throwing up every morning, but sometimes we have to deal with our lot in life. Promise me, Cam. Or I’ll leave, no forwarding address.”
Shit.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding like she meant it. “But I can’t be pushed around on this. I’ll do it—when it’s right. Okay?”
What choice did he have? He gave a reluctant nod.
Winnie let out a shaky exhale. “Thank you. Now I’d better get back inside. I’m sure Piper has more she needs to gripe at me about.”
“She cares about you.”
Winnie cocked her head and studied him. “Huh.”
“What?”
“You like her.”
“I’ve known her for all of twelve hours.” They both knew that was a non-answer, but the truth was, it didn’t matter if he liked her or not. He was here to help his family. Other than Winnie and his dad, “the Bean,” as she’d called it, was all the family he had left.
Chapter 6
“My alone time is for your safety.”
Gavin walked through the big, old house. It was midnight, and very dark and quiet. Too dark and quiet for him, but he had nowhere else to be. The roads were somewhat cleared, but he didn’t want to go out looking for trouble. Hell, half the time he never even had to look—trouble always just found him.
Piper and Winnie were sleeping, and he’d planned to do the same. But he’d long ago learned that he had to be exhausted first, or the dreams hit. There’d been far too many nights he’d bolted awake after an ugly nightmare to find himself curled up on the floor in the fetal position, rocking himself.
It was his second night home, and he’d slept like the dead last night, which had been a miracle. And yet he was afraid to hope that would be the norm here. Mostly, he was afraid to hope for anything at all.
He’d spent the past two days moving mud away from the foundation of the house and the cottages with Piper and Winnie. Both he and Piper had been stunned when Winnie had put in time, actually getting her hands dirty.
Winnie was a lot of things, most of them pretty great, like crazy fun, crazy wild, and . . . well, just plain crazy. But she’d never been big on putting forth a lot of effort. Into anything.
So when Piper and Gavin had stared in shock at Winnie showing up to help, it’d of course started a fight. Winnie had been insulted, reminding them both that she’d always preferred dirt and bugs to dolls and playing dress-up.
In turn, Gavin had reminded her that she’d spent the years between age three and eighteen both causing and raising holy hell on the world.
That was when she had “accidentally” thrown mud at him.
Naturally, a mud fight had ensued, and Piper, covered in mud and with steam coming out of her ears, had yelled at them to help or, better yet, get the hell out.
That was when Gavin had first realized that he wasn’t the only one standing on the very edge of a cliff looking down . . .
Restless now, he moved around the house. He didn’t need lights to make his way through the only home he remembered.
Except that wasn’t quite true.
He’d been ten when he, Piper, and Winnie had been sent home from the Democratic Republic of the Congo in the middle of that storm from hell, back to Wildstone to live with their grandparents. Whenever he’d been asked, he’d told people he couldn’t remember much before that.