He squeezed her shoulder briefly, then got to work.
In the living room, Frank Stone cleared his throat. “This is tough, but it’s not going to get any easier. Heather and I need to be going soon, so it’s time. We’re ready to help.”
Caleb’s voice seemed to have deepened in the past week. A gruff rasp that was chilly and borderline rude echoed in the silence. “So you told me. Thanks for the offer, but it’s not necessary.”
“You can’t do it by yourself,” Heather said sharply. “Be reasonable, Caleb. I know you’re grieving, but you have to face facts. It’s only logical, and it needs to happen now.”
It wasn’t as if Tucker could avoid overhearing what sounded like a private conversation. Not when Heather nearly shouted the words.
None of them could ignore it. Ginny paused in the middle of stacking sandwiches on a plate, her gaze riveted on her aunt.
“What’s she talking about?” Walker stopped his pacing to face the room. A furrow settled between his brows as he tried to figure out what was being discussed.
Heather waved a hand, but Caleb cut her off. “We already had this conversation, and I told you no.”
“Son, you’re not thinking straight,” Frank began.
“He’s not your son,” Dustin retorted. He abandoned his chair and rushed across the room to stand beside Caleb as if ready to protect him. “He’s my big brother.”
“And he’s a good big brother,” Heather said, softer this time. “But you’re young enough you need a mom and dad, and so does Ginny. Which is why both of you will come live with us.”
Pandemonium struck. Shouts and questions and outright refusals.
“I’m not living with you.” Dustin planted his fists on his hips in a position so reminiscent of Walter Stone, Tucker did a second take.
Frank Stone rose to his feet and jabbed his finger at Dustin. “You’ll live where you’re safe and cared for.” The finger moved toward Dare who blinked hard, hands clenching the blanket as Caleb gently moved her aside so he could stand. “Once social services take that Hayes girl—”
“What?” Ginny bolted across the room like a wraith, sliding in front of her best friend to wrap her up in a protective hug. “Dare isn’t leaving us.” Her gaze darted to Caleb’s face. “She’s not. She can’t.”
Caleb pulled them both against his side and squeezed. “Hush. No one’s going anywhere. We’re a family, and we’re staying together.” He nodded at Dare to include her in the statement. “Dare as well. I’ve talked to social services, and to Dare. Luke agrees with me, which means no one needs to leave. Not Dare, not Ginny, not Dustin.”
“Except them,” Ginny snapped, glaring at her aunt and uncle. “You can leave. Right now, and don’t ever come back.”
Frank thrust out his hands as if Ginny’s comment proved his point. “See what you’ll have to deal with? You’ll be asking us to take over before the summer hits, mark my words.”
Caleb took a slow breath, his frown deepening. The girls and Dustin clung to him like a frayed rope on an old fence post. Unsteady, wavering, yet knotted so tight they weren’t going anywhere without someone expending a lot of time and energy to cut them loose.
Luke crossed to where Tucker stood behind Caleb. Walker joined on the other side. “We’ll help take care of them,” Luke said quietly but with absolute certainty.
“So, like Caleb said, thanks, but no thanks,” Walker added.
That wasn’t the end of the complaining or the threats, but Caleb got Luke and Walker to help, and in the end, the shouting and arguing moved outside while Tucker stayed where he was and helped the girls and Dustin get lunch ready.
Eventually, they were all seated at the big family table.
Caleb stared at the stack of plates and bowls resting in the usual spot in front of their father’s chair. The chair Caleb now occupied.
He swallowed hard, dipped his chin, and then, like a man preparing for battle, picked up the soup ladle and began serving portions and passing them around.
Just the way Walter Stone had always served his family.
Tucker looked away and wiped his eyes to get control before he lost it.
Caleb carried on until they each had a bowl of soup and a sandwich. Then he sat back, speaking slowly. “This isn’t what we wanted, but it’s what we’ve got. And we are going to make it work. But I can’t do this by myself, and not with just Luke’s help, or Ashton’s. We’ve all got to do what we can.
“We have to work together. We need to rely on each other, and that’s what will make us strong.”
“We’re Stones,” Ginny said firmly, even though her voice hitched a little. “We are strong.”
Caleb’s lips curled into the first smile Tucker had seen in the past few days. “We are Stones. But I don’t want us to just be stones, rocks on a mountain. We still need to have fun, although I know that doesn’t sound easy right now.” His gaze skipped to Dustin. “Families have fun together, and I’ll definitely need your help to remember that.”
“Skipping stones,” Luke suggested. “Stacking stones into alien creatures. Stone artwork.”
Walker scowled. “What are you talking about?”
Luke shrugged. “Caleb said stones have fun. He’s right. I can think of lots of things, when the time is right.”
Before him, Tucker saw the family begin to pull together.
“Stone soup,” Dare suggested. “That’s one of my favourite books.”
“There’s a book about making soup from stones?” Dustin looked horrified, glancing at the remainder of the soup in the bowl in front of him.
Ginny and Dare exchanged glances then nodded firmly.
“I bet we can get that book from the library,” Ginny told Dustin. “Once we do, you and I can make stone soup.”
The youngest Stone sibling looked suspicious, but he nodded. “Okay.”
Caleb laid a hand on Ginny’s arm, squeezing gently as he gave her a nod of approval.
Transition had begun. Tucker took a deep breath and hoped things would continue the best way possible under the circumstances.
That night, he slipped out of his uncle’s rooms and returned to the family homestead to grab a bag he’d forgotten. He stepped through the back door, and the barest of noises pulled his attention to the right.
Ginny stood in the laundry room, shoulders shaking. Huge, silent tears poured down her cheeks.
Tucker didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance instantly and held her close. This was the semi-little-sister he’d run wild with for years. The one who’d messed with his tent pegs and broken his bike. Who’d resolutely fought to keep up with whatever harebrained stunt he and Luke were attempting, no matter that she was a foot and a half shorter and weighed half as much as they did. Fearless, stubborn to a fault…
Now crying with what sounded like a broken heart, and it was killing him because there was nothing he could do to make it better. No words to say, no reassurances.
She wiggled closer and pressed her teary face against his chest. “I hurt inside.”
It came out so shaky they sounded like twelve words instead of three.