The next day, Callum's doctor approved a walking boot. Within twenty minutes, he was freed of the huge, ugly cast. The relief he felt was immense as he was able to walk—hobble, anyway—out of the doctor's office without crutches.
It might be awkward, but if he could get around, he could take the boys home. He'd spoken to Buck yesterday and would join the crew by the end of next week.
Sam dropped him off in the drive, and after he thanked his old friend for the ride, he headed inside. The house was empty. And he didn't bump into the wall or snag his crutches on anything. The freedom he felt moving around the ground floor buoyed his spirits. Where was everybody?
The backyard was empty as well, but he heard voices chiming from the barn.
That's where he found Iris and the boys, who were wrestling in a wide, empty stall that had been filled with hay bales. One of the bales had come undone, and hay spilled across the floor, cushioning them against the dirt-packed ground.
Iris had one arm around both Tyler and Levi and was reaching to tickle Brandt at the same time.
"Daddy!" Tyler screamed, launching himself at Callum.
And without the crutches, Callum easily caught his son. Pieces of straw stuck up from his hair and clung to the back of Tyler's shirt.
Callum was so glad for his healing and walking cast that he gave a playful roar and dumped his son back in the hay.
Brandt and Levi shrieked, making to duck out of his reach, but they weren't fast enough. He grabbed one in each arm and took turns nuzzling his nose into the back of their necks with a playful growl as they struggled to get away.
He set them on their feet, and they scrambled away, laughing and shrieking some more. He hoped most of the horses were out to pasture and not getting nervous from the horseplay that was going on in here.
"Iris! Rescue us!"
Levi ducked behind Iris, who'd remained where she'd been sitting, watching.
"She can't save you!" He reached for her, but she surprised him by lunging to one side.
"Oh, no you don't!" he growled.
Levi jumped on his bent back as Brandt grabbed Callum's thigh, still giggling and shouting.
But he had a new target now, and she was heading for the stall doorway.
Callum got hold of her wrist and reeled her in like roping a steer. Iris wriggled and pushed against him with her opposite hand. "Cal!"
He worried that she was still irritated with him for that kiss last night—she had every right to be—but then she turned the tables on him, sliding under his arm instead of pulling away, almost like a ballroom dance turn.
It brought them face-to-face, her right up to his chest, and he sucked in a surprised breath. Her eyes sparked up at him.
And then she started tickling his ribs, the most ticklish place on his body. He jumped at the unexpected sensation, wobbled, and with two boys clinging to him and one underfoot, he went down in a heap.
And still had Iris's hand clasped in his.
They landed in a pile of limbs, her on top, both expelling a loud "Oof!"
She immediately scrambled free even as the boys piled on top of him.
"Guys!" she scolded. "Cal, are you okay? Your leg?"
Her brow was creased in sweet concern, and he hadn't missed that she'd called him by the affectionate nickname. Mattered not, because she'd gotten him good. No pain at all, but he had to get back at her.
"Oh, ow..." he mumbled.
She lifted Levi, who'd blocked her from seeing Callum's legs. "What happened? Did you twist it wrong?"
She knelt over him, and he reached out and caught her elbow, tumbling her into the hay next to him, tickling beneath her chin, the place he knew was the most sensitive for her.
She shrieked and the boys tackled her too, shouting, "Hurrah!"
She spluttered, and he thought she might be really angry this time until she grabbed a handful of straw and stuffed it down the collar of his shirt.
"No fair!" he squirmed and wriggled, trying to get the itchy stuff out.
She laughed, a real, loud belly laugh that had him chuckling helplessly along with her. The boys ran in a circle around them, now tossing hay into the air.
He met Iris's gaze and winked.
They moved as one to capture the boys between them like London Bridge, locking the squirming, giggling boys in the prison of their arms.
Levi clamped his arms around Callum's shoulders and then climbed over Callum's back to somersault away, with a happy shout.
Brandt had worked his way out of Iris's grasp, and Tyler crawled away in the hay. Callum dragged Tyler back by his ankle even as Brandt did a ninja kick and threw himself back into the melee.
"I'll save you, Iris!" Tyler shouted at one point.
When they tumbled out of the stall and into the barn proper several minutes later, they were all breathing hard and laughing.
The boys took off toward the double doors that led to the yard, and he let them go, hanging back with Iris.
"You've got a little something..." Even though they were meandering after the boys, Callum edged close enough to start picking some of the hay out of her hair. She'd worn a French braid down her back, but it was coming loose, wisps framing her face.
"Ha," she said, turning to face him full on. She brushed her hands across his chest, knocking straw loose with each sweep of her hands. Her lips quirked when she finally raised her eyes to his face.
"What?" he asked. He swept a hand through his hair, and straw and dust rained down. She flinched away, which made him grin, because she was as covered in the stuff as he was.
He did it again, and she pushed off his chest, backing up a step. "What a difference a day makes."
He kicked out the black boot that covered his left leg from the knee down. "It's this."
Her eyes rested on him and silence stretched a beat too long.
He wanted to reach out for her. Never mind the aborted kiss last night or the secrets he still kept—she belonged with him and the boys.
But a new voice outside joined the boys' chatter and brought his head up. Was that who he thought it was?
Iris saw Callum's shoulders stiffen before she realized they had company.
She trailed him out of the barn, still picking straw off her T-shirt. Her head came up at his intake of air, and she caught sight of the boys bouncing around her father, who stood in the yard in his suit pants and white dress shirt, tie loosened from his neck.
"Lookit, Iris!" Levi's voice sang out. "Your dad came to see ya."
Brandt and Tyler looked on curiously, but her father didn't respond to the boys at all.
Her father's eyes flicked over her and then Callum in turn, taking in their disheveled appearances. One half-hysterical part of her brain wanted to tell him that he'd better watch out or the deep frown on his face would stick.
Tyler edged back toward them, and Callum rested his big palm on his son's head, offering what comfort he could, given his own shock and tension.
"Dad. What are you doing here?" She hated that her voice emerged stilted, but the tension was palpable.
"Checking on you, baby girl."
She wasn't his baby girl, hadn't been for a long time. The nickname rankled.
As of this morning, she still hadn't decided whether to send Melody's video footage of the crash to the Redbud Trails PD or to the DA's office. Seeing the hard light in her father's eyes as he and Callum faced off, the pinch in her gut grew to a tight fist. Could she even trust her dad to do the right thing anymore? Or had his hatred of Callum grown too much?
"I told you to stay away from my daughter." These words were directed to Callum, but Iris stepped forward, directly into the space between them, breaking her father's line-of-sight.
"I'm a woman grown. I think I'm capable of choosing my friends and deciding how close to keep them."
Her father smiled, but it was an ugly baring of his teeth. "Obviously not, if this loser is your company of choice." His gesture toward Callum left no room for doubt who he was talking about.
Levi stalked up to her father and tugged on his pant leg. "Hey, Mister. You can't call my daddy names."
Her father sneered down at the boy, and Iris sensed Callum about to blow up from behind her, though she didn't turn to look at him. She quickly reached out for Levi and clasped his shoulder, drawing him toward her and away from her father. She didn't think her father would hurt Levi, but the boys were an extension of Callum, and the venom behind Dad's words frightened her.
Levi sidled up to her, and she cupped the back of his head. And then she felt Callum's warm hand close around her opposite elbow, a point of comfort that she hadn't expected.
The screen door opened with an audible metallic screech, and over her dad's shoulder, Iris saw Jilly lean out, taking in the tableau with a glance. Her expression crumpled for a split second before it hardened. No doubt Dad had skipped the house and the chance of seeing Jilly. No, he'd come for this confrontation.
"Look, there's Jilly," Iris said. "Why don't you boys go up to the house, and she'll get you a snack?"
Levi and Brandt started for the house, looking back to Callum once for approval. But Tyler hung back. Was he too shy to even walk past Dad and go to the house?
But then he looked straight up at Iris and asked, "Do ya want me to bring my sword out and scare off the mean man?"
Her heart swelled and her eyes misted at the brave little boy who had let courage overcome his timidity. Tyler looked between her and her father, unsure but willing to fight.
She ruffled his hair. "I'll be fine. I've got—" She'd started to say, I've got your daddy to protect me, but whatever stood between her father and Callum, nobody could protect her from.
Tyler ran across the yard to join his brothers on the porch, and Jilly led all three inside, casting a concerned glance over her shoulder before the screen door slammed shut behind her.
Her father didn't waste any time. "I want you out of Redbud Trails." He spoke over Iris, as if she weren't there at all.
"Dad—"
"I'm just looking out for your best interests, baby girl." But the hard light in her father's eyes and the way he barely glanced at her said otherwise. This was personal, between him and Callum.
"I'll give you forty-eight hours to get out of town. If you do, I'll drop the lawsuit."
She felt Callum stiffen beside her.
In his darkest nightmares, Callum had imagined this scenario. Wade trying to drive him out of town. He thought he'd lost everything before, when he'd had to walk away from Iris, but this time, there was more.
His livelihood, the future he'd planned for his boys.
He couldn't up and walk away, not again.
Callum stepped next to Iris, unwilling to let her get between him and Wade again. "I'm a tax-paying citizen, same as you. I've got rights. I've got a new start for myself here, and I'm not walking away."
From the corner of his eye, he saw Iris slant a glance at him, but he didn't cut his eyes away from Wade.
The older man had gone red in the face, but Callum saw the hatred glittering in his eyes.
"You might play at being a law-abiding citizen, but you and I both know the truth."
The ugly words spewed out of Wade's mouth, and the darkness of Callum's worst fears bled out like he'd been gored by a longhorn. This was his personal worst nightmare. For Iris to find out about that night.
His heart pounded in his ears, drowning out everything but Wade.
"There's something you need to know about your cowboy." The man's tone rang with contempt. "About why he left town five years ago."
Iris's eyes locked on her father, her posture faltering as her shoulders shifted. "You knew something? You knew and you didn't tell me?"
The hurt in her voice was enough to break him. He still didn't understand why her father had done it, why he would hurt his daughter with secrets and deception just to get rid of him.
Callum opened his mouth to say something—anything—to keep the secret locked away.
"Your cowboy was driving a little too fast down our county road the night he left town. He didn't know one of the horses—Champ—had gotten out of the fence. He ran him down with his truck.
"When I pulled up, your boy was staggering around. When I got close enough to sniff, I understood why. He was drunk."
"I wasn't drunk. Someone spilled a beer all over me."
He hadn't meant to defend himself, but the quiet words escaped before he could stop them.
Wade sneered. "You were drunk."
And that was the crux of the issue. If Wade had pressed charges against him, who would the police, the judge, and the town believe? Back then, Callum had been alone in the world, aged out of foster care and with a chip on his shoulder, a lot of chips collected for every judgmental look, every sneer, every glare he'd gotten from the folks of Redbud Trails. Nobody'd ever trusted him. No chance they'd have believed him.
And Wade had been the upstanding mayor.
And Callum had known, even then, that Iris would stick by him. Even if he'd been thrown in jail, she would've been there. Probably organizing the best defense a public defender could provide.
And missing out on her life in New York, where she belonged. A place where her talent could get the recognition she deserved.
He'd let himself be run out of town like a criminal, giving up the one good thing in his life.
And now, just when he'd allowed a glimmer of hope that he could provide a real home for his boys—a home with Iris—he'd lost everything again.
He looked down on her dear face, the tears slipping silently down her cheeks. She'd loved that horse. He hated that Champ had died, hated that he was the cause of breaking her heart all over again.
He wanted to close his own eyes against the pain reflected there, but he forced himself to look. He'd inflicted this hurt on Iris.
"Is he really the kind of man you want hanging around?" Even though Wade's words were for Iris, his voice grated on Callum's last nerve. Callum might be at fault in the hurt he'd inflicted, but couldn't Wade see that his girls needed him? To run him out of town—that was bad enough. But to neglect them himself...but then Wade had always been too selfish to see beyond his own desires.
Still caught in Iris's hurt gaze like it was a tractor beam, Callum forced himself to break eye contact to look at Wade.
"I think it's time you left," Callum said evenly.
Wade must've realized how serious Callum was, or maybe he'd done all the damage he'd come to cause, because he took one more look at Iris and then turned and stormed around the side of the house.
Callum stared after him until he heard the sound of an engine turning over, then tires crunching too fast on gravel.
He thrust his hand in his hair, loosing another fall of straw and dust. This time, the sight brought profound grief, not the joy from only minutes ago. The same grief he'd felt at losing Iris the first time.
He didn't know how to fix this, how to reach out to her again.
"I'm sorry." He blew the words out on a blast of air.
When he looked at her again, she was wiping her face, leaving dusty streaks across her cheeks.
"I want to make sure I've got the facts straight," she said, and her voice was shaky as if she were barely holding back more tears.
He shifted his feet, knowing he owed her whatever answers she wanted
"You hit Champ with your truck and left town, all in the same night?"
He nodded. There were no excuses he could give. His voice was rough when he said, "I know how much you loved that horse. I'm so"—his voice broke—"so sorry."
He'd loved Champ too. The animal had brought Callum and Iris together.
"I thought that things would be better for you if I left. Your dad was threatening to put me in jail and I knew you wanted to go to New York."
She shook her head, more tears spilling over her cheeks.
She sniffed mightily and attempted to wipe the tears away again, but more came.
His own eyes felt a bit damp. "I only planned to stay until I got my walking cast, and..." He nodded downward, the black boot another painful reminder of the fun they'd just shared.
"The boys and I will be out of your hair as soon as I can pack up our stuff."
He waited for a moment that stretched to infinity and back, but she didn't argue. She kept her face downcast. Her tears dripped onto the dusty ground beneath her.
And finally there was nothing to do but start walking toward the house. And try to think of some response to the boys' inevitable questions about leaving the ranch, leaving Iris.
He didn't want to leave at all, but she didn't call after him. And he knew this time, they were done forever.