Bred by the Bushmen

He took a step back, his chin up. The man was sex on a stick, strong jaw, broad shoulders. His red-checked shirt was unbuttoned, his white wife beater clinging to his hard chest. “Your heart is in the city.” Damon nodded once. “I can’t force you into our way of life. Living out here is extreme, I know that.”

What had she done? His disappointment was palpable. She hadn’t said “no” to him, but replaying her words in her head, she’d been rude. Opal supposed she was looking for more reassurance, confirmation everything would work out if she decided to stay, but she’d gone and insulted him.

She believed people could learn to fall in love. In her case, she was halfway there, already carrying a massive crush for both brothers. But there were so many variables, so many chances for disaster.

Opal watched Damon leave the kitchen and heard the front door close behind him.

****

Caleb had been stacking wood, preparing for the coming storm. A bitter wind chill had already blown in and a light dusting covered the land. He adjusted his toque and did the top button up on his padded jacket.

When the front screen door slapped shut, he turned to catch Damon storming out of the house.

Damon paced in circles, kicking at the kindling left on the ground. “You were right,” he said. “Don’t bother gloating because I already feel like shit.”

“What are you blathering about?”

“I asked her to stay. Asked her to be our woman.”

Fuck. He should have expected this, but he thought his brother would listen to his advice to take things slowly. He’d jumped the gun and scared her off.

“What she say?”

“That she has a life in the city. I don’t think there’s a woman alive who’d want to live out here.” Damon yanked off his shirt, balled it up and whipped it in on the ground. “She was perfect, Caleb. I thought she was the one.”

“You’ll catch your death of a cold. Get inside,” said Caleb.

“No, I need to run.”

Caleb watched his brother walk off in just a tank top and jeans. He didn’t bother trying to stop him. This was exactly what he feared, watching his brother lose hope.

He tugged off his work gloves and made his way to the porch. Their little guest was done playing games. He’d stayed out of his brother’s courting, taking the road of caution, but now it was time to intervene. Time to set their flighty dove straight.

Once he entered the house, silence settled in immediately. He wasn’t good with emotions. Where Damon usually wore his heart on his sleeve, Caleb kept his walls firmly in place. Ever since their parents were killed, their lives had been a whirlwind. He’d closed his heart off the best he could, the only way his fourteen-year-old self knew how to cope with so many devastating changes. His only constant had been Damon, and it killed him to watch him suffer.

“You’re feeling better?” he asked when he spotted Opal standing near the fireplace. The fire had petered out, only the red glow of ashes left behind.

“Yes, thank you.” She wouldn’t look at him, still glancing down at the embers.

He hung up his jacket and then grabbed his supplies near the door before kneeling in front of the fireplace. “Storm’s coming. I’ll keep a good fire going so you stay nice and warm.” Caleb added some kindling, blowing slightly, building the fire back to life. Within minutes, he was ready to add full logs to the flames.

“It smells so good,” she said.

He stood back up, brushing some ashes off his jeans. “The best smell.” It reminded him of family, Christmas, and happiness to name a few.

She swallowed hard, finally looking up at him.

Such pretty green eyes.

“Maybe I should leave before the storm. Will a taxi come way out here?”

“There ain’t no taxi service out here, Opal. Take a look around. We own thousands of acres and there are countless more surrounding that.”

“How will I get home?”

He shrugged. “Looks like you’re stuck.”

“I can’t stay forever,” she said.

Caleb moved forward, forcing her to back up against the wall. “How old are you? Twenty?”

“Twenty-two.”

He was almost twice her age, and he didn’t give a fuck. Caleb may not announce it to his brother, but he wanted Opal and planned on keeping her. Every day he grew more and more attached, convinced she’d meld perfectly in their lives. She was young, innocent, a blank slate … perfect for their mate, the mother of their children.

Damon was passionate, cutting her loose too easily. He’d swooped in fast but backed off without a fight. Caleb knew better. They needed to seize what they wanted in life or it would pass them by. He wasn’t sure what game Opal was playing, because he could read her like a book. When she thought he wasn’t looking, he could see the way she sized them up, desire in her eyes. She wanted them just as much. They could give her everything she needed, likely more than she had roughing it in the big smoke.