Page 8 of Protecting Little Phoebe

It was? Barren was starting to wonder if there was something wrong with this girl. She seemed so positive and happy.

Was that normal? Or had he become too used to people being angry and emotional? Was his compass on what was normal behavior skewed?

Perhaps.

Or perhaps she was hiding something behind all that positivity.

“It is?”

“Yeah. I can’t remember the last time someone was concerned that I would hurt myself. Or was worried about me getting cold.”

“Not even your brother?”

“Which one? Oh, it doesn’t matter. None of them would care.”

Really?

“How many do you have?”

“Seven,” she told him with a smile.

“Seven?”

“I know. It’s a lot. I told them that they’re like the seven dwarfs. I even gave them all nicknames. They didn’t appreciate that. It took me a lot of time to come up with those nicknames. They were Bossy, Bumbly, Grunty, Flappy, Mumbly, Sneaky, and Joe.”

“You have seven brothers and not one of them stopped you from driving all this way alone? Are they all younger than you?” That might explain things. “Wait. And Joe?”

“Yeah. His name is Joseph. Honestly, I just got tired of thinking up nicknames. Besides, he’s kind of the nicest out of all of them. And no, they’re all older than me. I’m the baby.Apparently, Mama wanted a girl and was determined to keep trying until she got one.”

“She must have been pleased to get you,” he said.

“Maybe? My Uncle Tim said she was, but she died soon after I was born so she never got to enjoy me. I think that might be why my older brothers hate me. They blame me for her death. Do you know how far away Rawhide Ranch is?”

He didn’t even know where to start with everything she’d just told him. Opening his mouth, he closed it again abruptly.

Shit.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered. “You think your brothers blame you for your mother’s death? Even though you were just a baby? One it sounds like she wanted a lot?”

She blinked up at him, those big blue eyes filled with wonder. They shone and he wondered for a moment if she was going to cry. Instead of feeling panic at the thought of having caused her tears, he almost wished she would cry. So he could hold her tight and hug her.

“You called me sweetheart,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry.” He felt a surge of panic. “That was inappropriate.”

“Oh.” A look of dejection filled her face. “It was? I liked it. But Paul will tell you that I’m often inappropriate.”

“Paul?”

“Another dickhead brother. Seven of them, remember? And they do blame me for her death. I heard them talking about it once. Well, some of them. The older ones. The younger three weren’t in the room. They don’t have much of a memory of Mama. Uncle Tim used to tell me stories about her, though. He was her older brother and he adored her. I often wished one of my brothers would adore me. But my dad did, so that was enough. Until he died, too. And now it’s just me with my dickhead brothers.”

Jesus.

“Your Uncle Tim?”

“He’s living in Hawaii now. He told me to come live with him. I’m thinking about it. Do you think I’d like Hawaii?”

“I suppose so. It’s hard to say.”

---