Page 100 of Brides and Brothers
Chapter 40
Camille
Camille woke with a kinkin her neck. She looked out of the dated lacey drapes to see the early rays of an orange-pink sunrise. The storm had cleared. The awakened state brought back a flood of memories from the night before, nearly choking her with a rush of emotion. She assured herself that Amy slept soundly next to her before slipping out of bed and padding over to her bag to find her clothes.
She dressed in the dark, pulling a sweatshirt over her head and finding some leggings that were forgiving of her growing waistline. The door creaked a little upon opening, and the vinyl wood floor was cold beneath her stocking feet. Camille slipped past the kitchen and the entryway, the stillness of the house oddly comforting, and peered into the family room at her sleeping brothers-in-law.
Camille’s eyes adjusted in the few streams of light coming from the windows on the far wall, and her gaze settled on Easton first. He was using Daegan’s foot as a pillow and barely holding on to the corner of a blanket he shared with Flynn and Cade.
They must’ve been too tired to fetch their things from the van. Benson slept in a chair with his head hanging to the side at an odd angle and his coat draped over him like a blanket. Daegan had piled the couch pillows over himself, which reminded Camille of a little boy playing in a fort. None of this brotherly togetherness was an image they’d likely want her to see, but all she cared about was that Aiden wasn’t in the mix. A small part of her had hoped he’d had a change of heart and come back to the cabin while she’d been asleep.
Stepping away from the sleeping figures, Camille retraced her steps until she was back in the kitchen. She pulled out the pancake mix, knowing the masses would be hungry soon. She measured the ingredients into a mixing bowl, but her growing anxiety made it difficult to perform a normally mindless process. What if Aiden hadn’t made it back to Cherish safely? The worry warred with her frustration with him and his decision.
The soft sound of footsteps pulled Camille’s eyes away from the bowl. Amy stood at the threshold of the door, her eyes half-lidded.
“Go back to bed,” Amy said. “I’ll make breakfast.”
Camille almost said no, but letting someone else help, even in this small way, felt like a lifeline. Nodding, she went back to her room to get her laptop and brought it to the kitchen table. Grading papers seemed to be the only distraction she could think of—and she was desperate for one.
Daegan stumbled into the kitchen next, probably following the smell of pancakes sizzling on the griddle. Camille had plugged her own nose, since her ultrasensitive sniffer kept smelling burnt food, which was likely just from an old hot griddle with too many years of grease on it. Avoiding Daegan’s eyes and any condemning thoughts he likely had toward her, she focused on her student’s words in the persuasive essay in front of her.
“Where are the pancakes? I’m starved,” Daegan said. “Are they warming in the oven?”
Amy’s sigh traveled across the room. “Try the garbage.”
Camille whipped her head up. So that’s what she had been smelling.
Daegan smirked. “Apparently, cooking doesn’t run in the family.”
“Apparently not,” Amy grumbled. “If I keep wasting batter, we’ll die of starvation before the week ends.”
Daegan rolled his eyes. “We have some food in the van. Though, it’ll have to be thawed before we can eat it.”
“Do you cook?” Amy pointed at the griddle.
“Yep, I make a mean bowl of cereal. I’ll even show you how it’s done.” Daegan opened the cupboard, displaying several kinds of cereal lining the shelf. “This is why we keep the cupboard stocked.” He pulled out a few boxes. “No one wants burnt pancakes. They’d rather have this. I promise it’ll be doing them a favor.”
Amy sighed and threw her apron down. “Okay, cereal it is.”
While the men gathered to eat, Camille took her turn in the bathroom and pulled her short hair into a half ponytail, skipping her makeup. She’d imagined getting dolled up for Aiden today, but now there seemed to be no point.
The kitchen cleared pretty quickly, and the men went out to work on the van before her friends started trickling down for breakfast. There was plenty of grumbling and complaining about failed weekend plans and some harmless scheming for revenge. Instead of begging them to stay positive, Camille began prepping for future lessons on her computer in silence. Eventually, the responsible adult in her knew it was time to go out and check on the van, so she pushed her work aside and made her way to the door.
A blast of cold air greeted her as she opened the cabin door. Conveniently, her brothers-in-law were on their way back, Benson leading the way.
“What’s the verdict?” she asked.
“The front left tire and wheel well are too damaged to drive. I have a local friend who can possibly bring us a new tire and tools to pound out the wheel well. Something temporary for the fender will have to be done too—it’s come half off. I highly doubt we’ll be making it back to Cherish tonight.”
Apparently, Benson had no news of Aiden, or he would have said something. The grim conclusion was enough to send Camille back a step into the warm cabin. Benson set his shovel next to the door and turned to his brothers. “Don’t put the shovels back in the shed yet. We can shovel a better path to the car after we warm up.”
“I hope Camille has hot chocolate ready for us,” Easton said, looking pointedly at Camille. She was grateful to see his expression was cheerful despite the fact that her anger had put their brother in serious danger.
As they shuffled into the house, Camille held the door for them. There was a noise just outside, and Daegan yelled. Flynn jumped into the house, narrowly missing two feet of snow that had been pushed off an upstairs window ledge. Daegan and Cade hadn’t been so fortunate. The force had knocked Cade off his feet and coated Daegan’s head and shoulders. Luckily, his cast was mostly spared.
“Did you see that?” Cade blustered from the ground. “It was Macey and Raina.”
Flynn chuckled. “We saw it all right.”
