Sully
“You’ve got a visitor.”
My eyes drift past Bo in the direction of the main house.
“Who is it?”
Instead of answering me, Bo’s eyes widen slightly as he catches sight of something over my shoulder. Then he grins wide.
Here we go.
“Morning, gorgeous.”
“Morning, Bo,” Pippa answers from right behind me.
I reach back for her hand and pull her to my side, sliding an arm around her waist.
She stayed here last night, in my bed, while I crashed in the spare bedroom.
Yesterday afternoon after she took me to have a peek at Fletch and Nella’s baby and congratulate the parents, I invited her back to the ranch. I knew Ama and Alex would likely have a celebratory meal ready, since Fletch had already called with the news.
The last kid born to a team member was James and Ama’s youngest, Una, who is now a teenager and causing her parents’ gray hair. All of us were still in the field then and didn’t have a chance to celebrate.
This time was a little different, not in the least because of what it meant to Jonas’s father. The old man was teary-eyed all through dinner, unable to hide his appreciation having the baby named after him. Jonas is his only child and doesn’t have children of his own, aside from his stepson, Alex’s adult kid.
In the same vein Thomas is a father figure to us all, I guess he considers every one of us his surrogate sons, so Fletch and Nella giving their son his name is a big deal.
It hadn’t been too difficult convincing an emotional and exhausted Pippa to come back to the cabin after dinner. To my surprise, she snuggled into me on the couch and we rehashed the events of the day. That in itself was an alien concept for me, sharing your day with someone, but to my surprise I actually enjoyed it. Mind you, having Pippa plastered to my side might have had something to do with that.
I’d hoped we could maybe address the logistics of her moving in here, but it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep on my lap though, and I ended up carrying her into my bedroom. There I got rid of her jeans, but didn’t bother with the rest before tucking her in, and then I sent Lucy a text to let her know Pippa was here. As much as I would’ve liked to have crawled into bed with her, I ended up watching a bit of TV before I crashed in the spare bed. Next time I share a bed with her, I want us both to be very aware.
Any hopes I had for a one-on-one with Pippa over coffee and toast went out the window with Bo’s knock on my door.
“Who is it, Bo?” I repeat, but an excited cry draws my attention to the porch where I catch sight of a bright splash of color flying down the steps.
Fuck me.
“Uncle Sully!”
Barely seven o’clock on a Sunday morning and my niece is running this way, limbs, hair, and scarves flapping. Christ. The horses are going to have a heyday with Sloane, who likes dressing like a goddamn fortune-teller. She calls it Boho, but her style is basically a throwback to the flower-power era.
Love, peace, and harmony, my foot. She’s far too passionate for that. It’s the Italian genes she inherited from her sperm donor, because all she would’ve inherited from her mother and my side of the family would’ve been a Scandinavian cool head. We tend to be more reserved, cautious, and focused; all things Sloane is not. She lives for drama.
Pippa has the presence of mind to step out of harm’s way, seconds before a human tornado in the shape of my niece launches herself at me.
“Jesus, kid,” I grumble, when I find my footing and anchor her in my hold. “I’m getting too old and you’re getting too big for that shit.”
She immediately releases her hold on my neck and scowls up at me as she backs away.
“Are you calling me fat?”
A groan escapes me, which Bo seems to find amusing. I shoot him an angry glare as he slowly backs away from the impending train wreck I know is looming.
Sloane is primed for a fight. Any fight. She’s frustrated with her mother, who has given up getting sucked into her daughter’s moods, she can’t get me to do her bidding, and so she shows up out of the blue, itching for some kind of confrontation.
I know it for sure when she catches sight of Pippa and her eyes narrow. Apparently, Sloane’s inability to share isn’t limited to her mother.
“I’m not calling you fat,” I try to draw her attention back to me. “I’m calling you no longer five years old.”
My distraction doesn’t work, since she’s ignoring me and scanning Pippa head to toe. Her entire body jerks when she notices the baby bump.
“I don’t know who you are,” she addresses Pippa rudely.
I don’t get a chance to put her in her place, Pippa beats me to it but she does it in a way that is more effective.
“Easily resolved,” she says cheerily. “I’m Fillippa Freling, but call me Pippa, everyone does. And you are Sully’s niece, Sloane. He’s told me about you.”
She’s smart enough not to bother holding out her hand, probably realizing she would’ve been left hanging.
“Funny, he hasn’t told me a thing about you.”
Oh yeah, my niece is primed for a fight and it doesn’t matter with whom.
“Enough,” I bark, shocking Sloane.
I’m not in the habit of raising my voice, but it’s clear she’s on a tear and I don’t much care to have more loaded to Pippa’s plate than she already carries. Best my niece know right off the bat I will not put up with that shit.
“There’s coffee in the kitchen, why don’t we go inside and sort this over a cup,” Pippa suggests, leading by example as she turns and heads in.
Sloane has a mutinous look on her face, but underneath I can still see the traumatized teenager whose trust in the world has been shattered.
“Come on, kid,” I mumble, hooking her around the neck as I rub my knuckles over her short blond locks.
Pippa
Yikes.
That’s a lot of anger radiating from one so young.
If Sully hadn’t filled me in on her backstory, I would’ve given his niece a piece of my mind. But knowing what I know, I feel empathy for the girl.
When my parents died, it messed me up but I had my sister to provide the anchor I needed at the time. What Sloane went through is even more traumatic and I can see how—without an older sibling to guide her through—her experience would’ve resulted in this scared, insecure, and angry person sitting across from me. She’s like a wounded animal, lashing out as she frantically tries to protect what is hers.
“What are you doing here, Sloane?” Sully asks her as he takes a seat next to me.
His voice holds a barely contained edge. He’s pissed but he’s holding it in. Good, because I have a feeling all hell might break loose otherwise.
“What? I can’t come visit my family?”
I’m not the only one who hears the vulnerability under that sharp tone, and I’m glad when Sully’s voice softens.
“Of course, sweetheart. Always.”
Poor kid. She is a walking contradiction: from her short, functional haircut to the colorful, dramatic clothes, and from the sharp edge of her tongue to the sheen of insecurity in her blue eyes. She’s a young woman unsure of where she stands, unable to shed her past or embrace her future. She’s spinning in place.
I don’t know her, but I recognize her.
“But shouldn’t you be in school?” he asks.
“I’m done. Handed in my final papers a few days ago, packed up my room, got in my car, and drove here.”
“From Utah?”
“Yeah. It’s not that far,” she says casually. “About twelve hours or so.”
“Where’s your stuff?”
“In the car.”
“Your car? I didn’t see it out there.” Sully leans back to glance out the window.
“It’s not. It’s on the side of the road about fifteen miles south of here. Dead. I hitched a ride on a truck heading this way and got him to drop me off at the base of the driveway.”
Sully’s groan is loud as he buries his face in his hands.
“Tell me at least you told your mom you were heading here?” he mumbles.
Her eyes flit to me before drifting outside. When there is no response forthcoming, Sully sits up straight.
“Sloane?”
“Well, it’s not like she lets me in on her plans,” the girl returns defensively. “Besides, she’s too busy packing up the townhouse to move in with Steve to care what I’m doing.”
“She cares.”
Sully’s comment is met with stubborn silence and I don’t feel it’s my place to wade in. Not yet.
Instead, I get to my feet and head for the kitchen.
“I’m gonna make some breakfast,” I announce. “I hope you have eggs.”
I pull open his fridge to find the end bit of a piece of cheese, a few containers of yogurt, half a loaf of bread, a package of lunch meats, a few beers, bottled water, and a variety of condiments. No eggs, no vegetables or fruit, nothing I could use to slap together an omelet.
“Sorry,” he mumbles right behind me. “I’m not much of a cook. I usually eat at the main house.”
“You don’t live here?”
I turn around to find Sloane standing by the kitchen island, observing us. It’s the first time she addresses me since Sully told her off.
“No.”
“Yes,” Sully answers at the same time.
His niece looks confused.
“She’s moving in today,” he clarifies.
Admittedly, yesterday is a bit of a blur, but I’m pretty sure I would’ve remembered agreeing to that. However, I don’t think this is the time to test Sully’s patience, which appears to be stretched thin as it is. I was ready to give in on that point anyway. The past few days I’ve realized how much I’ve already come to rely on the support he seems surprisingly natural at providing.
Yesterday morning in the doctor’s office, we shared a moment where neither of us had up any shields. I could see my swirling emotions reflected back at me through his eyes, and we seemed to come to an unspoken understanding. One where maybe we should start focusing forward instead of looking back.
Moving in would definitely be a step in the right direction. Perhaps a bit unconventional, and definitely fast, but nothing about Sully and myself, or this pregnancy, has been by the book. We’re making it up as we go.
“I am,” I confirm, more for Sully’s sake than for Sloane’s.
He looks at me. “Yeah?”
“Right after I go pick up a few groceries to cook us some breakfast. Oh, and drop by the hospital to see my nephew,” I add as an afterthought.
“Make me a list and I’ll quickly drive into town,” he offers.
Right, and leave me with his angry niece? No, I think maybe it’s better if I make myself scarce for a bit. They could use some time without me being a distraction.
“You should visit with Sloane while I’m gone,” I point out, realizing as I’m saying it I don’t have my truck here. It’s parked at the rescue. “I’ll see if Bo can give me a ride to my truck.”
“I can drive you,” Sully offers.
“I’m going to need stuff from my car,” Sloane interrupts, her eyes sharp on her uncle. “Besides, I’m not hungry.”
This is a test, I’m sure, and I can almost guarantee Sully is going to fail unless I intervene.
“Okay. Change of plans,” I suggest, clapping my hands together. “Forget about breakfast. You guys can simply drop me off at the rescue before you go pick up Sloane’s things. I’ll pack my stuff, run my errands, pick up some groceries, and meet you back here this afternoon.”
I can tell Sully wants to object but he seems to read the look I send him.
Five minutes later, we’re heading down the driveway toward the road. Sloane is quiet in the back of the crew cab as Sully checks his rearview mirror before glancing over at me.
“I can get groceries, you know.”
I firmly press my lips together before my thoughts escape, because judging by his fridge his kind of groceries aren’t the ones you can actually cook.
“That’s okay. I’m heading into town anyway. I don’t mind at all.”
I want to tell him I intend to pay for all groceries as a contribution to the household since he won’t accept any rent, but I don’t want to get into a potential argument with his niece listening in. I’m sure we’ll have a chance to work stuff like that out later.
“What is this place?” I hear Sloane’s voice behind me when Sully turns up the driveway to the rescue.
“It’s a horse rescue. It actually belongs to Alex, Jonas’s wife,” Sully explains. “And her friend, Lucy, runs it for her. This is where Pippa’s been staying.”
He pulls in beside my pickup in front of the house and gets out from behind the wheel. I’m already halfway out of the cab when he rounds the truck to help me down.
“Walk me to the door?”
“Was planning to,” he shares, taking my hand in his.
“See you later, Sloane,” I call out.
I don’t get a response but I wasn’t exactly expecting one.
On the porch I turn to face Sully, whose expression reads like thunder. I lift a hand to his face.
“Lose the scowl.”
“She’s out of line, Fillippa. Behaving like a petulant child,” he grumbles.
My full name again, so I’ll know he’s serious.
“Maybe so, but consider she was still a child when she had to grow up in a hurry because her security was ripped right out from under her. You see a petulant child, and yet, I see a girl who is lost. Who is struggling with the fact she is no longer number one in her mother’s life. So she comes running to you to assure herself she’s at least still number one in yours, but finds me moving into your house. And to top it all off, I’m pregnant. Something I’m sure she’s noticed but pointedly hasn’t addressed. She’s scared, Sully, to lose her place in the family she has left.”
He stares at me for the longest time before he mirrors my touch with his hand against my cheek.
“You’re smarter than I am,” he says in a gruff voice.
“Nah…I recognize where she’s at, that’s all. Best thing to do is take the high ground and don’t get sucked into the energy she’s putting out. Stay calm and stay steady. That’s what she needs most.”
He nods once, bends his head to kiss me sweetly, and turns to head down the steps.
“See you later,” he calls over his shoulder.
“Yes, you will.”
Behind me I hear the door open and Chief and Scout rush out to greet me, followed by Lucy, who steps up beside me. The two of us watch Sully drive toward the highway.
“You’re back earlier than expected,” she says when his truck disappears from sight.
“I’m here to pack,” I tell her.
“Hmm,” she hums before hooking an arm in mine and turning me toward the house. “I’ll make us some decaf and you can tell me all about it.”