Fortune's Fresh Start

“The pediatric center opened without a hitch.” Stephanie scrunched up her nose. “Other than a woman almost giving birth in the lobby.”

Callum nodded. “I stopped by today, and the facility is already busy. Clearly there was a need for a children’s health clinic in Rambling Rose.”

“It feels like the town grows every day,” Stephanie observed. “Have you noticed the new houses being built down the road from the ranch?”

Steven rubbed his thumb and fingers together. “Lots of money coming into the community. Hopefully that will mean plenty of business for each of our new ventures.”

“Who needs a margarita?” Stephanie asked. “The pink cabinet fiasco made my head hurt, but it’s nothing a salted rim along with a big plate of enchiladas won’t cure.”

“I’m in,” Steven said.

Callum pulled out his phone and checked the time on the home screen. “I’ll have to take a rain check. I have dinner plans tonight.” He responded to a text from his foreman, then glanced up to find his brother and sister staring at him with equally curious expressions.

“Spill it,” Stephanie said.

Callum feigned confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s evading answering.” Steven elbowed their sister. “My money’s on the cute nurse from the other day.”

“He bombed out with her before he even got a chance,” Stephanie said. “Tell me it’s not that barista at the coffee shop in town who always flirts with you. She has crazy eyes.”

“Enough with the inquisition.” This was the issue with coming from such a close-knit family. Since they’d moved to Rambling Rose, he and his siblings had mostly hung out together. Sure, each of them had made a few casual friends. But they stuck together. The ranch they’d purchased just outside town had a sprawling main house as well as several guesthouses on the multiacre property.

He figured if his brothers and sister ever wanted more privacy in Rambling Rose, he’d buy out their portion of the ranch. But none of them seemed inclined to move out on their own anytime soon. It worked for Callum. He’d needed space after going to school at a local college in Florida. That was part of the reason he’d started looking for projects to take on in other areas of the Southeast. Coming from such a big family and growing up with so much responsibility for Stephanie and the triplets on his shoulders, he’d needed a break.

But after the wreck of his short marriage and subsequent divorce, life had become too quiet. Now he liked being close to his siblings. It had made the move to Texas not so daunting and gave him a sense of confidence, which was probably why he’d taken on a slate of so many ambitious projects.

“Then tell us,” Stephanie prodded. “Don’t think I won’t follow you. Remember when I was in eighth grade and crashed your date with Ava Martin after you snuck out to meet her?”

“How could I forget?” he replied, trying and failing to hide his smile. “I got grounded for a month.”

“You were already grounded, which is why you got in even more trouble.”

“No one is going to ground me now,” he told her.

“Come on, Callum. Just spill it.”

“I’m having dinner with Becky from the pediatric center.”

“Called it.” Steven did an enthusiastic fist pump. “You were so obvious the other day.”

“I wasn’t obvious,” Callum said through clenched teeth. “I was helpful, and she’s thanking me with dinner.”

“How romantic,” Stephanie said in a singsong voice.

“Her twins will be sleeping in their bedroom. It’s hardly romantic.”

“Mom and Dad had four boys under the age of five when they were first married,” Steven reminded them. “They still managed to find some time for romance.”

“This isn’t anywhere near the same thing, and you both know it. You’re just trying to get under my skin.”

Stephanie wiggled her eyebrows. “It’s working, too. I can tell.” She leaned closer. “I can also tell you like her. You were pretty obvious at the ribbon cutting.”

“Go back to Florida,” he told her, deadpan.

“I’m like a rash,” she countered. “You can’t get rid of me.”

Steven laughed. “You do realize you just compared yourself to a bad skin condition.”

“Fitting,” Callum said.

Stephanie only rolled her eyes at their gentle ribbing. “What are you bringing?”

Callum shrugged. “Nothing. She said she’d handle it all.”

She groaned. “Don’t be an idiot right out of the gate. What about flowers or wine or chocolate?”

“You sound like Marci,” Callum told her. “Enough with the matchmaking.”

“Li’l sis is right,” Steven said. “Step up, Callum. Your pretty nurse has been through a lot. Even if it’s just a thank-you, make her feel special.”

“She’s not ‘my’ anything,” he protested, although his heart seemed to pinch at the thought of a woman like Becky belonging to him. He should listen to that subtle sharpening and not get any more involved with her when it could only end badly. “But she is special.”

“Then show her,” Steven urged, laughing when Stephanie gave him a playful slap. “Hey, what was that for? It’s good advice.”

“I’m just shocked it came from you.”

“Remember, I’m the oldest.” Steven pointed a finger at each of them. “That also means I’m the wisest.”

“Hardly,” Callum said on a half laugh, half cough. But his brother had a point. He didn’t know much about Becky Averill, but it was obvious she worked hard, both at her job and taking care of her girls. She deserved to have someone treat her special. Despite knowing he could never be that man, he couldn’t help wanting to ignore the truth—even for one night.

The doorbell rang at exactly seven o’clock that night.

Becky stifled a groan as she finished fastening the snaps on Luna’s pajamas. “Of all the nights for things to go off the rails,” she said to her girls as she lifted them into her arms and hurried toward the front of the small house.

She opened the door to Callum, who stood on the other side holding the most beautiful bouquet of colorful flowers she’d ever seen. “Am I early?” he asked, his dark gaze taking in the twins as well as Becky’s bedraggled appearance.

“Bedtime is running late,” she answered.

Luna babbled at him and swiped a chubby hand at the flowers while Sasha snuggled more deeply against Becky’s shoulder.

“What can I do?”

Her heart did that melty thing she couldn’t seem to stop around this man. “Give me five minutes,” she told him as she backed into the house. “This night is to thank you for helping the first time, not to force you into another round of child care duties.”

“I don’t mind,” he assured her, grinning at the girls.

“The flowers are beautiful,” she said.

“They’re for you.” He looked down at the bouquet, then up at her again. “You probably guessed that.”

Despite her nerves and the craziness of the evening, Becky grinned. “I have a bottle of wine on the counter. Would you open it while I put them down?”

“Sure.”

It felt a bit strange to leave him alone in her house when he’d just arrived, but she didn’t have a choice.

She began to sing softly to the girls as she made her way back to their bedroom. As if on cue, both Luna and Sasha yawned when Becky turned off the overhead light in the room, leaving the space bathed in only the soft glow from the butterfly night-light plugged in next to the rocking chair in the corner.

She placed them in their cribs, smiling as they babbled to each other in that secret language they seemed to share. She finished the song, gave each one a last kiss and said good-night. After checking the monitor that sat on the dresser, she quietly closed the door to their room.

Once in the hallway, she glanced down at herself and cringed. The twins were normally asleep by six thirty so Becky had thought she’d have a few minutes to freshen up before Callum arrived. She’d changed from her scrubs into a faded T-shirt and black leggings, both of which were wet thanks to the dual tantrums she’d dealt with during bath time.

Hurrying to her bedroom, she changed into a chunky sweater and dark jeans, cursing the fact that she hadn’t been shopping for new clothes since before the girls were born. She hadn’t done anything for herself in far too long, which was why this night felt so special.

She dabbed a bit of gloss on her lips, fluffed her hair and headed for the kitchen and Callum. Her heartbeat fluttered in her chest once again.

Her reaction to his presence felt silly. He’d helped with her daughters and agreed to come for dinner. Nothing more. He probably regretted it already and was counting the minutes until he could make his escape.

But the warmth in his gaze when he looked up from his phone as she walked into the kitchen told a different story. One that made sparks tingle along her spine.

“You arranged the flowers,” she murmured, taking in the bouquet that had been placed in a vase on the table.

“I found a vase in the cabinet.” He offered a sheepish smile. “I hope you don’t mind. It was one less thing you’d have to deal with tonight.”

“They’re perfect,” she told him, then breathed out a soft laugh. “You can manage multiple construction projects and excel at the art of floral arranging. Quite the Renaissance man, Callum.”

Her silly comment seemed to relax them both. She could hardly believe he had nerves in the same way she did, but the thought made her feel more confident.

“Something smells really great,” he told her.

“I almost forgot about dinner,” she admitted, pulling a face. “It’s not fancy, but I hope you like chicken potpie.”

“I like everything.”

And didn’t those words just whisper across her skin like a promise? Becky gave herself a little head shake. He was talking about food and she stood there staring at him like he was the main course.

“My grandma used to make it when we went to her house for Sunday dinner. I make some modifications so the recipe doesn’t take so long, but the crust is homemade.”

“I’m impressed.” He handed her a glass of wine. “To new friends and new beginnings.”

She clinked her glass against his and took a drink of the bright pinot grigio. It was only a sip but she would have sworn the tangy liquid went right to her veins, making her feel almost drunk with pleasure.

More likely the man standing in her kitchen caused that. The first man who’d been there with her since her husband’s death.

“New beginnings,” she repeated softly, then busied herself with dinner preparations.

She’d done most of the work when she got home earlier. The pie was warm in the oven, and the scent of chicken and savory dough filled the air when she took it out and set it on the trivet she’d placed on the kitchen table.

She took a salad from the refrigerator, then frowned at the simple supper. Surely a man like Callum was used to fancier fare.

“I haven’t cooked for ages,” she admitted as she joined him at the table. “I’m out of practice at entertaining.”

As if understanding there was an apology implicit in her words, Callum shook his head. “This looks amazing, and I appreciate you going to the trouble for me.”

“It was no trouble.” She dished out a huge helping of the classic comfort food onto his plate. “I hope you’re hungry.”

As he took a first bite, he closed his eyes and groaned in pleasure. “I could eat this every night.”

“I used to make things that were more gourmet, but with the girls’ bedtime routine I figured I’d have better luck with a recipe I know by heart.”

“I’m not much for gourmet.”

“That surprises me.” She forked up a small piece of crust, pleased that it tasted as good as she remembered. “I figured anyone with the last name of Fortune would be accustomed to the finer things in life.”

“Nothing finer than a home-cooked meal,” he said, helping himself to another portion.

She chuckled. “Do you always eat so fast?”

“Only when it’s this good.” He shrugged. “My branch of the family is relatively new to the notoriety of the Texas Fortunes.”

“Really? Is that why you moved here? To get your moment in the spotlight?” She mentally kicked herself when he grimaced. He’d helped her and now her nerves had her babbling so much she was going to offend him. “I’m sorry. That came out sounding rude.”

“Rambling Rose appealed to me because I’m here in Texas, which gives me a sense of connection with the Fortune legacy, but it also feels like I’m blazing my own path.”

“That’s important to you?” She stabbed a few pieces of lettuce with her fork.

“Very important. You met my dad and stepmom and three of my siblings. Imagine four more added to the mix. There wasn’t much time for individuality growing up. I could hardly do my own thing when I constantly had a brother or younger sister trailing me.”

“Are you the oldest?”

He studied his plate for a long second, as if unsure how to answer. “No. Dillon, who was at the ribbon cutting ceremony, is a year younger than me. Our parents divorced when I was a toddler, and Dad met Marci shortly after. They married almost immediately. She also had two boys from her first marriage. Steven is two years older and Wiley is my age, although he has a couple of months on me. It felt like I went from being the oldest to the little brother overnight.”

“That’s a lot of blending,” Becky murmured, not quite able to imagine how that would have felt for a young boy.

He nodded. “We were a handful, especially at the beginning. I think each of us had something to prove. Unfortunately that meant we pushed every one of Marci’s buttons any chance we got.”

“How did she handle it?”

“Like a champ,” Callum confirmed. “I didn’t see my real mom much after the divorce, but Marci always made Dillon and me feel like we were her sons as much as Steven and Wiley. If we were testing her, she passed with flying colors.”

“And things got easier?”

“Stephanie was a turning point for the family. She was the most precious thing I’d ever seen. Suddenly, these four rowdy boys had something in common—our sister. She brought us together.”

“It’s obvious you’re close with her.”

“Yeah.” The softening of his features gave her that fizzy feeling again. “Mom…” He cleared his throat. “Marci became mom to me pretty quickly. She loved having a big family, but had a couple of pregnancies that ended in miscarriage after that. It took a toll on her.”

“I can imagine.”

Fine lines bracketed his mouth, as if the thought of the woman who’d become a mother to him hurting caused him physical pain, as well.

“Then the triplets were born. They were miracle babies, really.”

“Multiples are special,” Becky couldn’t help but add, thinking of her sweet girls.

“It took Marci some time to recover. There were complications and she wasn’t herself for a while after.”

“From how she made it sound, you were a huge help.”

His big shoulders shifted and an adorable flush of color stained his cheeks. “I kind of had a way with the ladies, even back then.”

Laughter burst from Becky’s mouth, and the excitement bubbling up in her felt like she’d gulped down a flute of champagne. Was there anything more attractive to a mother than a man who was good with children?

“You certainly worked your charms on Luna and Sasha,” she told him. “They aren’t accustomed to having men in their lives.”

“Someone told me your husband died while you were pregnant,” Callum said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

The pleasure rippling through her popped in an instant. Grief had been a sort of companion to her after Rick’s death, and she knew the facets of it like the back of her hand.

“It was a car accident,” she said. “I’d just taken a home pregnancy test but we didn’t know I was carrying twins.” She bit down on the inside of her cheek. “I wish I could have shared that with him. I wish I could have shared a lot of things.”

She held up a hand when he would have said more because she knew another apology was coming. Not that he had any responsibility, obviously, but people didn’t know how to talk to her about the loss she’d suffered. Some things were too unfathomable for words.

“We’re okay,” she said, which was her pat line even when it wasn’t true. Sometimes she struggled, but she was dealing with it and making the best of things for her daughters. She blinked away the tears that stung the backs of her eyes.

“In some ways Rick is still with us,” she told Callum. “There’s a park outside of town where he and I used to go on walks after work. Now I take Luna and Sasha there when I want to feel close to him. I sit on the bench near the pond and talk to him, and I feel him with us. I know how much he would have loved his girls and he’s their guardian angel. Some people don’t get that or they think I’m just trying to see the silver lining in a tragedy that has none. But it’s what I know.”

His cleared his throat as if unsure how to respond. Becky mentally kicked herself. No guy wanted to spend an evening talking about a woman’s dead husband, even for a homecooked meal. This was the reason she could never hope to date, especially not someone like Callum Fortune. She had enough emotional baggage to fill a freight train.

“Can I ask why you stayed in Rambling Rose?” Callum asked after several awkward moments.

She opened her mouth to give him a pat answer, but was somehow unable to tell this man anything but the complete truth. “This was the home Rick and I chose together.” She glanced around the small kitchen. “And we picked this town because we wanted to be a part of a close-knit community. Neither of us was tight with our families growing up.”

“Do you have brothers and sisters?”

She shook her head. “Only child. Rick was, too.” She lifted the wineglass to her lips, watching Callum from beneath her lashes. Maybe it was inappropriate to talk about her late husband with a man she felt attracted to, but Callum’s steady presence made her feel like she could share anything with him.

She appreciated that more than she could say. Yes, she’d loved her husband deeply and would give anything to change the tragedy that had stolen their future.

That loss was woven into the fiber of her being. It had formed her into the woman she was today, resilient and fiercely protective of her daughters. She understood the only way to celebrate Rick’s life was by honoring what had brought her to this point.

Callum helped her clean up the dishes after they finished dinner, another point in his favor. They said goodbye, and Becky watched him drive away as she tried to tamp down the disappointment at the night ending so soon. Seriously, she needed to get out more. One simple thank-you dinner and she felt like a silly girl with a crush on the most popular boy at school.

Callum had called her a friend and that was how she should think of him, as well. Too bad her body wouldn’t cooperate.

Chapter Four

“What’s your next move?” Stephanie asked as she joined Callum in the main house’s expansive kitchen later that week.

The morning had just begun to dawn, with the sky outside the window turning the Fame and Fortune Ranch a dozen shades of pink and orange.

“I don’t have one,” he said, keeping his gaze trained on his laptop. He took another drink of coffee as he perused the article on trends in the food and hospitality industry. “What would you think about an upscale restaurant in Rambling Rose?”

“I think it won’t compete with the local Mexican food,” she said, dropping into a chair across from him at the table.

“The idea isn’t to compete,” he explained. “I want to expand the options for folks around here. What if you wanted to go on a special date?”

“At this point,” Stephanie said with a slightly sad smile that tugged at his heart, “my favorite men have four legs and fur.”

Callum hated that his sister seemed to have given up on her chance at love. Unlike him, Stephanie had so much to give. “Hypothetically,” he clarified.

“Are you looking for a setting for a special date?” Stephanie kicked his shin under the table. “You still haven’t said anything about your dinner with Becky the other night. I’m tired of waiting for details.”

“She’s a great cook,” he said.

“I don’t care what you ate.” Stephanie pushed his laptop closed. “You like her, right?”

“She’s nice.” Callum reached for his coffee, ignoring his sister’s raised brow. Of course, nice was a wholly inadequate way to describe Becky. He’d never met anyone like her. She’d suffered a devastating tragedy yet still seemed to be filled with a bright light that wouldn’t be dimmed.

He didn’t understand the connection he felt with her and knew it could go nowhere even if he wanted it to. Which he didn’t because he’d learned his lesson about commitment and getting hurt the hard way. Things were better all around when Callum focused on the parts of his life he could control. Matters of the heart definitely didn’t fall into that category.

“What did you talk about?”

“Stuff.”

“You know how persistent I can be,” she said. “I’ll follow you around all day until you spill it.” Stephanie grinned when he narrowed his eyes. “Might as well just tell me now.”

“We talked about a lot of things.” He shrugged. “My family, her family. Her late husband.”

She made a soft sound of distress. “Was that awkward?”

“No,” he answered simply. Maybe it should have been. Although the way she’d described Rick made the man sound just about perfect. Callum knew he was bound to pale in comparison. There was no use pretending that he’d gone to dinner at Becky’s just to be kind. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

He wasn’t just attracted to her physically. He wanted to know as much as he could about her, which included her past. Losing a husband so young had obviously played a large part in shaping the person she was today.

“I haven’t seen you like this since Doralee.” Stephanie tapped a finger on the tabletop, and Callum focused his attention on that instead of meeting her insightful gaze.

“It isn’t the same,” he muttered.

“I can tell.” She leaned forward until he lifted his gaze to hers. “Your divorce doesn’t define you, Callum. At least it shouldn’t.”

“I know,” he agreed, although the wreck of his marriage had changed him. All the things he’d thought he wanted from life shifted in the wake of his pain and the blame his ex-wife placed squarely on his shoulders.

He deserved every bit of it. Growing up in a large family had led him to assume the path of marriage and kids was the one that made the most sense for him. But he’d been dedicated to his business and not able to give Doralee the attention she’d wanted. They’d had a whirlwind courtship of only six weeks before getting married, both of them enamored by the heady feeling of new love.

Once the novelty wore off, it had become clear they weren’t compatible in most of the ways that counted. She had unrealistic expectations and he seemed doomed to fail at meeting them. It was a blessing for both of them that she’d had the guts to end things. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her but couldn’t seem to do anything right. He’d believed he was building a future for the two of them, laying the groundwork for their life together. Turned out to be a foundation built on sand, shifting and crumbling under the pressures of life.

Of course his failings had shaped him, but in a different way from how Becky’s had her. She’d had tragedy befall her and risen above it, while he’d been the cause of his own pain. He might be infatuated with her, but he wasn’t about to open himself up to that kind of hurt again. Becky’s life was complicated and he remained determined to keep his as simple as he could manage.

“You can find love again,” Stephanie continued.

“I’m not looking for love.” He pushed back from the table and walked toward the counter to refill his coffee. “It was one dinner. You’re making too much of it.”