Acres, Natalie - Pole Position [Country Roads 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (4 page)

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s hard to say but maybe in the last year or two.” Princess tapped her chin with her fingers as if she were contemplating either her grandmother’s death or the invitation they extended.

“You’ve been on your own since then?” Colt asked.

“Not the whole time.”

Brant frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“There was this man that took care of me once. He was old and dying, too, but he made sure I ate, and we had plenty of food and clean water. He always said that was mighty important. Sometimes I think he might still be alive if he hadn’t struggled so much looking after me. He was pretty sick, but we did the best we could by each other, and I like to think I made him smile. That’s what he used to tell me when I would sing for him. He said I made him happy.”

“I’m sure you did,” Colt assured her.

“He called me kid, too,” she said softly. “I thought you might have known George.”

“Who is George?” Brant asked.

“Please try to pay attention,” she said, using the very words Brant recited earlier in the day. “George was the old man I told you about.”

“When did he pass away?”

“I think it was about a year or two ago.” She slapped her knee. “Time just flies when you start getting on in years.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Um, kid, can you give us just a minute to talk over something?”

“There you go again, calling me kid. I think ‘kid’ suits you and me. What do you think?”

“I think you’re right, kid.”

They walked outside. “I hope you don’t mind,” Brant began. “I can’t bear to think of her out there by herself cold and—”

“You know as well as I do we can’t leave her here when the Jingle Bell Ride ends. That little girl needs a loving home. We have to help her.”

“How?”

“When our weekend is over, she’ll be riding in that truck with us. She has nowhere else to go. We can’t leave her here and that’s all I know. What we do with her is the question. I’ll make some phone calls and see if we can’t find a family for her. Somebody out there wants a child. Someone will love her as their own.”

“We can’t just kidnap her!”

“It’s not kidnapping, Brant. Apparently, no one even knows she exists.”

* * * *

They retrieved Ralph then headed back to their cabin. By the time they returned, it was bitter cold. The chill of the night set in, and the little one had chattering teeth and blue lips. Brant wondered what kind of mom or dad let their child fend for themselves at the tender age of nine?

After Colt loaned Princess his heavy coat and insisted she wear gloves regardless of whether or not her fingers would “get lost” in what she called “finger sleeves,” they made their way to the campfire. Bales of hay were scattered about and Princess made herself right at home, smiling at another little girl straight across the fire.

“What’s your name?” she called out.

“Beca,” the girl replied. “How about yours?”

She shot Brant a grin and replied, “Everyone calls me kid. Just kid.”

Beca wrinkled her nose. Apparently, she didn’t know how to respond. She whispered something to the woman sitting beside her. A few minutes later, they disappeared, but Princess didn’t seem to mind one way or the other.

Colt poked the end of a stick with one marshmallow after he secured the first. He loaded the stem with another few more and motioned for Princess. “Here you go,” he said, taking his time to show her the best way to roast marshmallows without getting them extra-crispy.

After the first round was charred, Colt removed one from the switch and crammed it in his mouth. “Not bad,” he said, “or at least it isn’t too bad for a scorched marshmallow.”

She giggled.

“Ah, you think that’s funny do you?”

“Yes,” she said, cackling.

“Well let’s see what our little campfire chef thinks about her own cooking,” Colt said, stuffing the sweet treat between her cheeks.

Her eyes practically danced with her smile. “That’s super good, huh?”

Brant watched her. “If you say so, kid. I like ’em better with s’mores.”

“What are s’mores?”

“You haven’t lived until you’ve eaten a s’more,” Brant told her, grabbing another nearby twig and loading the pointed tip with white fluff. Handing Princess the stake, he stepped back and watched her eyes sparkle from the fire’s reflection. He wondered what kind of life such a darling child had endured, how much she’d suffered when no one was around to care or know.

He took a deep breath and defied the tears one second away from filling his eyes. At that moment, he thought of Colt’s words. He’d said when their weekend ended, she’d be in the truck with them, but what did he mean exactly?

He looked up and caught Colt’s gaze. Undoubtedly, they were thinking the same thoughts, concerned over similar issues.

If they took that little girl home, they were making a commitment to raise her if no one else would. And what did he think about that?

“I’m having the best time of my life!” the kid exclaimed.

Well, at the moment, Brant couldn’t think of anything he wanted more. He wanted to be part of Princess’s life. He needed to make sure she had the best opportunities a child needed in order to thrive.

Chapter Six

“You get your choice,” Brant told her when they entered their cozy accommodations later that evening. “Where would you like to sleep? The couch pulls out into a bed, and there’s a private bedroom in the back if you’d like to have your own room. What do you think?”

She plucked Ralph from the sofa and whispered something in the stuffed bear’s ear. Then she held her head close to Ralph’s torn mouth. “Ralph wants to know where you’ll sleep.”

Brant’s nose twitched and he shrugged out of his coat. “Depends on you, kid. Where do you plan on laying your head down tonight?”

She whispered something else to the stuffed toy and then said, “I’ll take the couch. That’s what polite company should do.”

“Whatever you want,” Colt said, “it’s entirely up to you…and Ralph.”

She giggled, consulted the stuffed animal one final time and announced, “We think it’s warmer in here.”

Brant left the room and returned a few seconds later with a couple of blankets and a pillow. While he made up the bed, Colt took the plate of roasted marshmallows to the kitchenette and prepared the s’mores.

He set a place setting for four, feeling like he should probably include Ralph so Princess would have an excuse to eat a second s’more. “When you get done over there, bring Ralph to the table. He may want a bedtime snack.”

She danced across the room and tossed Ralph into the chair beside her. “You’re so funny, Colt. Ralph isn’t real enough to eat.”

“But he’s real enough to give you advice,” Brant pointed out.

“Oh yes, I have to talk everything over with Ralph. That’s what families do.”

“How does that work if he’s not human?”

“I tell him what to say,” she admitted, breaking her graham cracker in half and studying the chocolate layers around the white melted filling.

Colt and Brant took a hearty bite of their s’mores and she followed suit. “Mmm…this is the best treat in the world. How’d you make it?”

“It’s easy,” Colt explained, wishing he’d let her make her own. “You take two graham crackers, place a chocolate bar on one side, and the marshmallows on the other. Put the two sides together and you have a s’more.”

“I think I’ll like this forever,” she said gleefully.

She ate half her bedtime snack and helped Ralph with his before returning to finish hers off. When she was done, she started to clear the table, but Colt stopped her. “Brant ran a bubble bath for you when he was gathering up blankets. How does that sound?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “A real bubble bath with big bubbles?”

“Yep,” Brant confirmed. “I don’t know how big the bubbles are, but I happened to find a huge bottle of them under the sink. You can pour as much as you like in that tub.”

“And I get to take a long bath like a princess takes?”

“I guess so,” Brant said, unable to conceal that wider grin.

The kid was definitely worming her way into his heart.

Still, Brant looked as clueless as he probably felt. As Princess darted off to the bathroom, Colt cleaned up the mess he’d made. A few minutes later, he walked over to the sofa and tucked the bear under the blanket, making sure Princess would find Ralph just as she might have left him if she’d spent the night in her dilapidated box.

Fluffing the pillows, he felt quite foolish when Brant strolled in and caught him. “You’re spoiling her,” Colt pointed out.

“Maybe,” Brant said. “I believe she needs a little pampering. Don’t you?”

Colt nodded. After a brief silence, he asked, “Think we have enough blankets? I don’t want her to get cold in here tonight.”

“There’s something we need to talk about,” Brant said, stepping around him.

Colt read his expression before he said anything and saw how apprehensive he was. He understood perfectly. They were two single men without a woman in their lives. At twenty-two, what did they have to offer a child in the event they couldn’t find a family who wanted to adopt a nine-year-old girl?

“Don’t say anything,” Colt warned.

“I don’t know what you expect me to say.” Brant’s gaze shot toward the sofa bed. “I could get used to that kid, you know?”

“You could?” Colt asked.

“Yeah, but I don’t know anything about raising a child. Neither do you, and I can promise you one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I sure don’t wanna live with your ass,” Brant teased.

“Same here.”

“And a child needs two parents.”

“Who said anything about being parents?”

Brant folded his arms over his chest. “We don’t have any guarantees we can find her a suitable home in Morristown.”

“I’ll make some calls when we get back. We’ll find someone. We’ll search high and low until we find a family for that little girl. In the meantime, we can be the friends that kid deserves to have. You know, kind of like the big brothers she never had.”

* * * *

The next morning, Colt fixed pancakes while Brant packed their sack lunches.

While their backs were to Princess, she slipped into a chair, taking a seat at the small kitchen table. “Good morning,” she said, yawning.

“Well good morning to you, too,” Colt said.

Brant set the first stack of shortcakes in front of her. “Hope you’re hungry. Colt claims his pancakes are the best breakfast money can buy.”

“Do I have to pay for them?” she asked innocently.

“No,” Colt replied, grinning. “These are on the house.”

“Good,” she said, yawning again. “I’m kind of hungry.”

“There are more where those came from, so dig in,” Brant told her.

“What time is the ride this morning?” she asked.

“There’s a big snow coming in,” Brant said. “One of the other riders said they’re leaving the park in an hour.”

“Oh,” she said, shoving a big bite between her small lips.

“Uh, Princess.” Brant began to carefully choose his words and then his attempt went all to hell. “Colt has something he wants to ask you. Don’t you, Colt?”

Colt shoveled a few pancakes on two more plates. They sat down at the table together, leaving their own meals untouched.

“How would you feel about moving to Tennessee?” Colt asked gently.

“I’ll have to talk to Ralph about it,” she replied in a hurry. “We don’t know anyone who lives in Tennessee.”

“You do now,” Brant pointed out.

The child’s lips formed a tight line. “That’s true. I sure don’t know anyone around here anymore.”

“We’d like to help you find a mother and father, someone anxious to adopt a little girl like you,” Colt explained.

“Do you live together?” she asked. “Can you adopt me?”

“No, Princess. I’m afraid we can’t,” Colt replied. “But that’s not important. We’re your friends. We want to take you back to Tennessee and help you. We’ll find a family for you. What do you think about that?”

“Why can’t you be my family?”

Colt gulped. Brant looked away. After a moment of silence, Colt finally said, “Tell you what, Brant and I will work out suitable living arrangements for you
and
Ralph. How does that sound?”

“I think I’d like to be adopted by someone like you. Then I’d feel right at home.”

Part II

Chapter Seven

Twelve years later

Colt pushed away from the breakfast table. He strolled across the ceramic tile flooring and stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Brant! Hurry up! We’re gonna miss the race if you don’t get your ass in gear!”

Brant skipped down the steps with a noticeable spring in his gait. “Do I have to remind you that we’re driving less than a hundred miles to attend a race that will take place tomorrow?”