“Or bones,” Madeline added with a shudder.
“She collects live things? And bones?” Calder’s expression shifted to wide-eyed horror. Oops. I forgot not everyone had a future pathologist in their family.
“Teeth aren’t bones.” Charlotte made a dismissive gesture, sounding far older than seven. “And I had a secret ant colony. Until someone told on me.”
Her accusing look had poor Madeline squirming on the carpet.
“I’m glad someone did,” I said sternly. “And now we have an exterminator visit. One of the reasons we came to the cabin this weekend.”
“Uncle Felix had a terrible, horrible, very bad week.” Madeline smiled at her own joke, a reference to one of her absolute favorite picture books when she’d been smaller.
“Oh?” Calder continued to look as if he had no idea what to make of the girls. That was okay. I frequently felt out of my depth with them too.
“The nanny quit, the school had complaints—”
“I said sorry,” Charlotte interrupted. She read far above grade level, got bored by typical second-grade activities, and had a propensity to relieve her boredom in ways that made sense to her and her big brain, like the ant colony, but created a lot of mess. And at school she had a tendency to scare other kids with her dramatically gory stories, hence the complaints.
“I know you did,” I soothed, trying to sound patient. “You also didn’t realize that collecting that many ants would have consequences. It was a hard week for all of us, so we all needed a getaway.”
There had also been an ill-timed phone call from Tim complaining about settlement terms, again, but I wasn’t revealing that in front of the girls. At the time, heading to the cabin had seemed like a brilliant idea, but now that we were snowbound with a stranger I was far less certain. My back tensed. I didn’t like feeling so unprepared.
“Read me one of the ghost stories,” Charlotte demanded, handing me the book.
“I don’t know that it’s the best idea for a bedtime story.” I shot a glance at Calder, hoping he might back me up, make me less of the bad guy. “And we wouldn’t want to scare Calder.”
“Calder doesn’t scare. Read away.”
Darn it. He either hadn’t picked up on my hint or didn’t care to be on my side. He had, however, scored a major point with Charlotte, who beamed at him.
“I scare.” Madeline shot me a nervous glance.
“Me too,” I said so she’d feel better.
“I’ll keep you safe.” Charlotte put a sturdy arm around Madeline. “Pick an extra-spooky one, Uncle Felix.”
I thumbed through the table of contents, finding the shortest, least spooky story. “Here. This one looks not too scary, but I’m stopping if it gets inappropriate.”
“Or bloody,” Madeline added.
“That too.”
As I read, I had to pretend Calder wasn’t right there, listening to every word. At home, bedtime stories were one of my favorite things, and I liked to think I was good at them, doing different voices and injecting emotions. That was probably where Charlotte had found her talent for dramatic storytelling, so I couldn’t be too mad that she’d been telling tales at school again. And she leaned forward intently now, hanging on each sentence, injecting commentary. She’d notice if I did less than my usual effort, so I tried not to get self-conscious about Calder listening in.
Weirdly, his expression was almost as intent as Charlotte’s, and he didn’t crack a single joke or roll his eyes like Tim might have. Eventually, I relaxed enough to get into the story. After I got over having another adult in the audience, Calder’s attention ended up emboldening me a little, giving my words a little extra flair. Apparently, even twenty years removed, my inner theater geek appreciated the chance to perform.
“I wonder if this place is haunted,” Charlotte mused as I finished.
“If so, I bet it’s a friendly ghost like in the story.” Calder was so not helpful with his encouragement of her imagination.
I could already predict that Charlotte would keep poor Madeline up with her own rendition of the admittedly tame ghost story. Charlotte’s version would undoubtedly have more carnage.
“It’s not haunted. I promise you I’ve slept here many times, and I’ve never ever seen a ghost.” I smiled reassuringly for Madeline and gave Charlotte a stern look. “And it’s getting close to your bedtime.”
“I may never sleep again.” Now it was Madeline’s turn to be dramatic, complete with coming over and swooning against my chair.
“You can try. You brought Ellie, right?”
“Right. But I’m getting too big for her.” Cheeks going pink, Madeline glanced at Calder, then back at me.
“Ellie?” Calder asked.
“Madeline’s elephant,” Charlotte explained. “Uncle Felix gave it to her when she was a baby. Ellie’s been everywhere with us.”
“It’s not a big deal.” Madeline studied the rug. At ten, she was starting to feel peer pressure about still playing with dolls and stuffed animals, but I tried to encourage her to keep the things she needed and to ignore her friends’ opinions.
“I think it’s cool.” Calder gave her the nicest smile I’d seen from him yet. And of course he had to go and be all helpful and tender right when I’d decided he had zero good instincts for kids. “I had a stuffed dog when I was younger. He made it through several moves with us. He was a good friend.”
“Neat.” Madeline returned his smile with a shy one of her own before scooping up her bag, Ellie’s pink head poking out the top zipper. “Okay. I’ll try sleeping.”
“Brush your teeth first. I’ll come up and say good night,” I said as Charlotte followed her up. And it was only after the girls were in their fuzzy pajamas and tucked into the beds in the sleeping loft and I was on my way back down the stairs that I realized that I was about to be all alone with Calder, no buffer of the girls and their chatter.
My stomach swooped, as dramatic as Charlotte. Which was ridiculous. Nothing was about to happen, and definitely nothing that should have my pulse skittering like this. And yet...
Calm down, Felix. Somehow I already knew my body was not about to obey.
Chapter Five
Calder
I almost called the kids back downstairs. Help. I’m not sure I can be alone with your uncle because he doesn’t seem to like me, and I don’t cope well with awkward distrust. Yeah, that would go over well. But it was true. I was used to being able to charm almost everybody. I liked being liked, but Felix appeared pretty immune to my charms.