“Okay, what’s wrong?” she asked instead of returning his hello.
And how could she tell he was distracted? “What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“Your voice has that tone. Like something’s on your mind.” Pamela Shaw was way too observant for his liking. “Tell Mother about it,” she insisted when he didn’t answer.
Cameron switched his attention to Audrey, who was carrying a box up the porch steps. With a deep breath, he recounted the last twenty-four hours, from the time Audrey had shown up at the school until meeting her at the diner last night.
“Well, then,” she stated after he finished. “I bet you didn’t see that one coming.”
“Not funny, Mom. I don’t know what to do with this kid.”
“She probably doesn’t know what to do with you, either,” she pointed out.
Cameron closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the sliding glass door. “You’re not helping.”
“But I’m being serious. This little girl just lost her mother and is probably just as scared and uncertain as you are.”
Logically, he knew that. The way Piper kept shooting unsure glances at him touched a place deep inside his chest that hadn’t been touched in a long time. A part of him wanted to help the kid, to place a hand on her skinny shoulder and assure her life wouldn’t always be so shitty. Problem was, he wasn’t sure she’d believe him, because he hardly believed it himself.
“You remember what it’s like to lose a parent,” Pamela pointed out.
Cameron opened his eyes and saw Audrey accept a yellow flower Piper and picked off a bush. Cam’s gaze fell to Audrey’s seriously slamming ass as she went back to the trailer. “Having a parent die from cancer isn’t the same as one leaving,” he reminded his mom.
“I realize that,” his mom agreed, because she didn’t need reminding of what they’d gone through when his douche of a father had walked out on them. “But my point is, you were a vulnerable kid once. You know what it’s like to have your family fall apart.”
Okay, he’d give her that.
“And,” his mom went on, “after your dad left, you still had me. She has no one, honey. She didn’t ask to be put in this situation, so it isn’t fair for you to take your anger for your dad out on her.”
Cameron turned from the door. “That’s not what I’m doing.” Was he, though? Cameron liked to think he wasn’t that much of a shithead, even though sometimes he could be. His resentment for his old man walking out had become so ingrained that he no longer knew how to separate it from everything else.
“Maybe not deliberately. But I know you. When you see her, you’re reminded of everything you felt when your dad left us. I don’t even think she has much of a relationship with your dad, does she?”
“I think Dianna was all she had,” Cameron admitted; even saying the words pinched his chest, because his mother was right. Cameron had been that kid once. After his father had ditched them, Pamela had been all he had. She’d been the rock, making sure Cameron had everything he needed, loving him enough for two parents. There was no way he’d have made it through those first few years without her. His world would have ended if he’d ever lost her.
Cameron turned back to the backyard and watched as Piper plopped down on the grass and talked to her stuffed cat. The thing was a mess, discolored and tearing at the seams.
She’s my best friend.
The girl’s small and quiet voice floated around in his head, solidifying what he hadn’t seen before. She really was alone, except for Jellybean. And Audrey. She had Audrey too, who was willing to slay dragons for the kid. As annoying as she’d been yesterday, Cameron respected her for the way she’d taken Piper in and protected her.
“Cameron?” his mom said when he’d been silent.
“I don’t know what to do with her,” he admitted.
Pamela laughed softly in his ear. “You think I knew what to do when you came along?”
Cameron smiled, despite himself. “Yeah, but you planned me.”
His mom made a sound of agreement. “True. But Piper didn’t plan this either. I think you’re both probably going to have to feel your way around each other.”
“Yeah,” he agreed absently as Audrey reappeared through the front door of the guesthouse and went to the trailer.
“Listen, I’ve got to run. I’ll see you for Sunday dinner next month.”
They disconnected the call and, without really thinking, Cameron slid open the back door. Piper jerked her head up when she heard him and clutched Jellybean tighter. Shit, she wasn’t afraid of him, was she? Had he been that much of an ogre? He didn’t think so. In fact, he’d been more preoccupied with Audrey and ruffling her feathers than anything else. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe he hadn’t been attentive enough.
Maybe he should, like, try a smile. Or something.
Piper watched him with those deep green eyes; then her face softened a fraction when he grinned at her.
“Catch any good butterflies?” he asked. Audrey had walked back inside the guesthouse.
Piper set Jellybean down on the grass. “No, they’re too fast for me. I was trying to catch one for Jellybean because she loves butterflies. Now she’s sad because she doesn’t have one.”
Cameron thought Piper was the one who was sad, but he kept that to himself. He glanced around and spotted a yellow ladybug on a bush near his feet. He squatted, collected the insect, then walked over to Piper. Her gaze tracked his movements when he lowered himself to her level.
“How about a ladybug? You think she’d take that instead of a butterfly?”
Piper observed the ladybug crawling over Cam’s hand. “Jellybean doesn’t like ladybugs.”
“What about you?”
Piper chewed her lip. “Ladybugs scare me,” she admitted.
“Naw, ladybugs are harmless,” he told her. “Hold out your finger.” Piper hesitated and Cameron lowered himself to a sitting position next to
