“Going to work in the kitchen. Being shouted at, then walking through the snow and not knowing where I was. People hurt me.” He wrapped his arms around himself. “I think men hurt me all the time, but I don’t know why. I can’t remember. What did I do to make them hurt me? I don’t even know if it’s real.” He looked up to see the horrified expressions on the brothers’ faces and wanted to run away. In seconds, Gruff lifted him up and sat him on his lap, wrapping his strong arms around him.
“It’s all right. You’re safe with us. No one will hurt you here, I promise.”
Lyle was starting to crave the feeling of Gruff holding him, keeping him safe. It stopped him feeling the need to run away. Nothing bad could happen while Gruff held him.
“Enough questions,” Gruff said firmly. “Lyle is staying here until his memory returns.”
Lyle looked at him. “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.”
“I can cook and clean,” Lyle said. “I think I’m used to cooking for a large number of people. I can remember working in a kitchen.”
“Done,” Damien said. “We’ve got a busy few days ahead with the Christmas harvest. Lyle here can take care of the house while we cut down the trees.”
Confused, Lyle turned to Gruff who explained, “We grow Christmas trees. It’s time to chop them down and deliver them to town. This time of year, we all help with cutting down the trees and delivering them. By the time we get in we’re usually exhausted. It will be good to come home to a cooked meal. And talking of cooked meals—”
Lyle jumped off his lap. “I can start now.”
Gruff frowned, but the really big brother beamed at him. “Great. There isn’t too much to do tonight. Meat is in the oven. And the baked potatoes are ready.”
Ignoring how tired he felt, Lyle hurried over to the stove. If he proved he could take care of the household maybe they’d let him stay. He saw the big slab of beef and his mouth watered. Would they let him have the scraps afterward? He was so hungry, and he couldn’t remember the last time he ate.
In thirty minutes, Lyle put a plate heaped with meat and potatoes and peas in front of each brother. They didn’t seem to have much in the way of vegetables, but he’d made a green salad too and fussed until they took a portion. Gruff’s face had gotten darker as he cooked, and he couldn’t work out what was wrong. He slunk away to clean the pans as the brothers started to eat.
“Lyle!” Gruff barked.
Lyle jumped and nearly dropped the roasting pan. He hurried back to Gruff. “Yes, sir.”
They all stopped eating to stare at him, and Gruff eyed him as if he’d grown another head.
“You don’t have to call me sir,” Gruff said.
“Sorry, sir, I mean, Gruff,” Lyle stammered, unsure why Gruff was so angry.
“Where’s your dinner?”
“I’m not allowed to eat until everybody’s finished. I can make myself a bowl of oatmeal when you’re done.”
Again, he was aware of the conversation dying and all the brothers turning to stare at him. What did he say wrong this time?
“Fix yourself a plate of food and eat with us,” Gruff ordered.
“I—”
“Just sit,” PJ said, “before my brother has a conniption.”
Lyle wasn’t sure what a conniption was, but it didn’t sound good. And Gruff’s gaze was so steely, Lyle rushed back to the stove and put the smallest amount of meat on a little plate and came back to add green salad.
Gruff took the plate out of his hands and went back to the beef. Lyle held back a whimper. Wasn’t he even allowed a small slice? Then he told himself not to be greedy. Salad would be fine. Gruff returned, and Lyle blinked at the larger plate piled high with meat and a baked potato with peas.
“Sit next to me,” Gruff said. “Budge up, Jake.”
Jake obligingly moved up and Gruff placed Lyle’s plate on the table and pointed to the chair. Lyle sat and stared at the food.
Gruff handed him a knife and fork. “Eat.”
Lyle stared at him and then back to the plate. He’d never been allowed food like this before; he was sure of it.
“Lyle, please eat,” Gruff insisted.
The beef melted on Lyle’s tongue. He had to hold back a moan. And the potato was fluffy and dripping with butter. He ate as much as he could before his stomach was full. But when he looked at his plate, he’d barely eaten anything.
“Lyle,” Gruff growled at him.
Lyle hung his head, mortified to have disappointed Gruff. “I’m sorry, but I’m full up.”
Indeed, the beef was churning horribly in his stomach. He breathed deeply and after a while the nausea settled. He realized Gruff had put an arm around his shoulder to hold him. Lyle leaned in close, glad of the comfort.
Gruff looked at his brothers. “I’m taking Lyle up to the small bedroom. He can start work tomorrow. You can clear up.”
Lyle wanted to protest that he was fine to wash up and clear everything away, but he was suddenly exhausted and needed to sleep.
“We get up at five and eat a cooked breakfast at eight,” Damien said. “Lyle, we’ll leave you a list of chores on the table.”
Lyle flinched at his loud tone, and Gruff asked him what the matter was in a low voice. He shook his head. “I should clear up.” He didn’t want to let Gruff down just because he was tired.
“Not tonight. You’re going to bed now.”
Gruff picked him up and Lyle wrapped his arms around Gruff’s neck. He was too tired to argue. He would get up early and clean and make breakfast. He closed his eyes and fell asleep to the gentle rhythm of Gruff’s stride.
Lyle awoke with a start, disoriented, the sound of loud chatter and the front door banging driving away the last vestiges of sleep. Where was he? He frantically sorted through his memories until he remembered. Gruff, huge bear, his home. He looked around the small bedroom. Unlike Gruff’s, it looked impersonal, as if no one slept in here. Then he spied a small bear on one of shelves. Maybe it had been one of the brothers’ rooms when they were small.
He couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t slept with Gruff, and then told himself to get over it. Just because Gruff had taken care of him didn’t mean to say he wanted Lyle there twenty-four/seven, sharing his bed.
Then Lyle remembered what he was supposed to be doing.
Oh no, he was late!
He’d intended to get up at three, his usual time to start preparing the meals for the day but no one had set an alarm and he’d slept through. He looked at the clock on the nightstand. Just after five. They must be so angry with him.
He jumped out of the small bed and looked down at himself. Gruff must have undressed him. He skinned into his pants and long-sleeved T-shirt and ran down the stairs. There was a piece of paper on the table. He ignored that and got busy making breakfast.
GRUFF
“I’m so hungry,” Jake said as he climbed the stoop, and there was a general rumble of agreement.
Gruff felt the pull of his muscles and he rolled his shoulders. They’d worked solidly for three hours chopping down the trees ready for this year. He called out for Lyle as soon as they walked in the house, but there was only silence.