Righting a Wrong (A Ripple Effect Romance Novella) (4 page)

“Poppycock. I can sit at Cal’s house just as easy as I can sit here.”

Did her father really think she would just let him walk out the door that easily? “You’re not allowed to drive yet, remember?”

“You can drive me.”

Cambri shook her head. “Sorry, I’ve got work to do.”

“Then I’ll walk.” He started packing up his box as though he intended to do just that.

“Go ahead and try,” said Cambri. “You can’t even walk from one side of the house to the other without getting winded. You’ll never make it.”

“What did I do to deserve a daughter like you? No loyalty whatsoever.” Harvey shook his head as though disgusted with her. “Guess I’ll just have to call Jace to come and get me.”

Wait—Jace? Come here? The mere mention of his name caused a pit to form in Cambri’s stomach. “Okay, you win. I’ll take you.”

One of his eyebrows lifted. “Thought you had work to do.”

“I’ll drop you off and come back here.” Now that she thought about it, this could actually be a good thing. With her father at Grandpa Cal’s, the house would be quiet and peaceful. Suddenly anxious to get him out the door, Cambri scooped up a handful of fishing stuff and threw it in the box.

“What in flying French fried hogs are you doing? Those don’t go there.”

Cambri leveled him a look that said she’d had enough. “You said you were running late.”

He huffed in response, but didn’t say anything else as they finished cleaning up.

As Cambri pulled out of the driveway, her father said, “Head north on Main then take a left on Silver.”

“I remember where Grandpa Cal lives.” Just because Cambri had been gone for a few years didn’t mean she’d forgotten Bridger or the people who lived here. But instead of heading toward Main like her father suggested, Cambri took the back roads. Whether it was because she didn’t like being told what to do or because she suddenly felt like taking a jaunt down memory lane, she wasn’t sure. Maybe it was a little of both.

When she took a left on Rose Street, she immediately felt a rush of nostalgia. This had always been her favorite street in all of Bridger. The houses were close to each other, but not too close, the trees tall and shady in the summer, and the overall ambience oozed character and charm. The fact that her mother’s name had been Rose only made her love it that much more. There was one house in particular that she’d always dreamed of owning.

Cambri slowed the car as she approached the two-story bungalow home, then stopped and stared. It was no longer white, but a steel blue with white trim around the windows and newly painted pillars around the huge front porch. And the large maple—Cambri’s favorite tree in all of Bridger—was gone. And fairly recently too from the looks of that large hole where its massive trunk had once sat.

“Aw,” Cambri said, unable to keep the slight complaint contained.

“Something the matter?” Her father’s voice cut through her thoughts, bringing attention to the fact that Cambri was being ridiculous. This wasn’t her house. This wasn’t her town. That wasn’t her tree. Why did she care? She leased a beautiful condo back in North Carolina and had nearly enough saved to buy her own.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “I’ve just always loved that house. I’m sad to see the maple tree gone.” Just like she’d been sad to see her father’s yard all torn up. Her heart ached with a loss she couldn’t quite explain.

“Interesting,” said her father.

Cambri glanced his way, noting an amused gleam in his eyes. “Why is that interesting?”

He shrugged. “No reason. Just find it… interesting.”

Knowing she’d get no further explanation than that, Cambri left the home behind and drove the rest of the way to Grandpa Cal’s place, which looked exactly the same as it had years earlier.
Bless you, Grandpa Cal.
The only difference was an older, charcoal-gray Tundra in the driveway.

Cambri stayed in the car, waiting for her father to get out.

Her father paused with his finger on the handle. “You’re not coming in?”

“I told you I was just going to drop you off, remember? I’ve got a bunch of work to get done. Call me when you’re done, and I’ll come get you.”

“Don’t you at least want to say hi to
Grandpa
Cal?” asked her father, emphasizing the word Grandpa.

Cambri shot him a my-patience-is-wearing-thin look and unbuckled her seatbelt. But it would be fun to see Grandpa Cal again, and a couple of minutes wouldn’t hurt. She grabbed her father’s tackle box and followed him to the front door, where he gave three hard raps. A moment later, the door opened, and Jace’s handsome face appeared.

Cambri nearly dropped the tackle box.

“Harvey, what are you doing here? We didn’t think we’d see you for at least—” The words abruptly ended when Jace caught sight of Cambri standing in the shadows behind her father.

“Hey again,” she said, feeling stupid and awkward. Why hadn’t her father mentioned that Jace would be here? Cambri would never have agreed to come inside, not even to see Grandpa Cal. She took a step back. “Well, Dad, it looks like you’re in good hands. What time will you be done? I’ll come back to pick you up then.”

Her father looked at her like she’d grown two heads. “Thought you wanted to say hi to Cal. And Jace is here. Don’t you want to catch up with him too?”

“Oh,” Jace inserted. “We already, uh—caught up at the store the other day.”

Harvey looked from Cambri to Jace and back to Cambri. “If you two have already
caught up
, why does it feel like we’re all standin’ on a bunch of eggshells?”

Cambri wished she had one of her Mom’s old hankies so she could shove it in her father’s mouth to keep him quiet. “I have no idea what he’s talking about. Do you, Jace?”

“Nope.”

“Great, then lead the way to Grandpa Cal. I’d love to say hello really quick.”

Her father nodded in satisfaction and headed inside, pushing his way past Jace. “I’m sure he’s downstairs.”

Jace continued to hold the door open for Cambri as well. She caught a whiff of something sporty and woodsy and had to catch herself from leaning in and sniffing. He smelled so familiar, like a scent reminiscent of a really fond memory.

“What are you doing here?” she said, trying to ignore the way his close proximity brought on a severe case of the butterflies. “I thought you hated fishing—especially fly fishing.”

“I do,” he said.

Cambri waited for more, but it didn’t come. “Oh, sorry. The way you answered the door made it sound like you’re a regular to these, uh… bi-weekly meeting things, or whatever they call them.”

“Fly tying nights,” Jace said, closing the door. “And I’m here to prevent injuries.”

Cambri raised an eyebrow, and Jace sighed as though he was being forced to carry on a conversation he had no desire to carry on. “After spending two different nights in the ER getting fish hooks out of thumbs, I figured it would be less time-consuming and expensive to oversee the tying.”

She winced as she pictured her father with a hook in his thumb. “I’m surprised they let you take them to the ER.”

“I didn’t give them a choice,” said Jace. “I told them it was either that, or I’d admit them to Silver Linings and wash my hands of them both.”

Cambri laughed. “I wish I could have been a fly on the wall for that conversation. I bet the look on Dad’s face was priceless.”

“He did call me a cotton-picking lint licker or something like that.” Jace smiled slightly, and the corners of his eyes crinkled.

Cambri couldn’t resist reaching out to touch him just to the side of his right eye. “You’re getting wrinkles,” she teased.

She’d meant to lighten the mood with the gesture, but the smile slipped from his face and a strange sort of energy filled the space between them. He studied her for a few seconds before taking a step back and breaking the connection.

“Grandpa’s downstairs,” he said.

Cambri’s hand fell to her side. She watched him trot down the stairs, admiring his athletic grace and wondering where the awkward teenager had gone. When he glanced back and caught her looking, she mentally berated herself and followed. The large family room at the base of the stairs looked the same as she remembered, only with several more fish mounted to the wall.

“Well, if it isn’t Cambri Blaine!” a deep voice reverberated throughout the room.

Cambri looked over in time to see Cal Sutton’s large arms open and engulf her. “How ya been, girl? We’ve missed you around here.”

She soaked up the warmth of one of Grandpa Cal’s bear hugs, realizing how much she’d missed this wonderful man. How come her own father couldn’t greet her this way?

“Let me have a look at you.” Cal’s large hands framed her face, and his smiling eyes met hers. “You’ve grown into a lovely young woman,” he said, grasping her left hand and raising it. For a second, she thought he meant to kiss it, but instead his eyes twinkled. “And still single too, I see.”

Cambri gave a short laugh and pulled her hand free. “And you’re still a tease.”

He chortled and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, guiding her toward a large wooden desk in the corner. “It’s been way too long. I need you to tell me all about school, your job, and the East Coast. I’ve always wondered what kind of fishing they have over yonder.”

It occurred to Cambri that her father had never once asked about school or her job, but it was the first thing out of Grandpa Cal’s mouth. “School was great, and North Carolina is lush and green, with beautiful beaches. I love my job and am sorry to report that I know nothing about the fishing there, or fishing in general.”

“Well, you’re in luck.” Cal clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “Tonight you’re going to learn something about fishing that not many people know. Have a seat.”

“Oh, you’re sweet to offer, but I can’t stay. I’ve got work to do.”

“She keeps saying that,” her father muttered.

“Cambri, sweetie.” Cal pulled out a chair for her. “It’s been way too long since you’ve been in my house, and I’m not about to let you hug and run. Surely your work can wait a few minutes,” he pleaded, and Cambri knew she couldn’t say no.

“Okay, but just for a few minutes.”

Grandpa Sutton smiled, then pulled a chair next to hers and began teaching her the art of tying flies. Using a small vice to hold the hook, he wrapped floss around the feathery stuff, securing it to the hook, and within minutes, he made a cute little fuzzy creation called a dry fly hackle.

Cambri quirked an eyebrow at Jace. “I’m not understanding how a hook got caught in anyone’s thumb. That vice holds it amazingly well.”

“One of the incidents happened before the vice.”

“Before? But how can you tie one of these without—”

“Exactly,” Jace cracked a smile. “Harvey wanted to save the money and insisted he could hold the hook just as well as any vice could.”

Cambri laughed. “How did that work out for you, Dad?”

A frowning Harvey continued his search for the perfect piece of hackle, as though he hadn’t heard her.

“And the second incident?” Cambri asked.

The chair creaked as Jace leaned and put his hands behind his head. “That one happened when they tried to remove the hook from the vice for the first time. Gramps didn’t loosen it enough, and it ended up in his thumb.”

Cal nudged Cambri with his shoulder. “I was just testing the vice to see how strong it really was. Turned out we got a good one.” His eyes crinkled like it was a hilarious inside joke.

“I’m just glad you finally figured it out so there won’t be any more trips to the ER,” said Cambri, shooting a glance at Jace. “Which leads me to wonder why you still come if they really don’t need you anymore.”

He shrugged. “I think it’s pretty interesting and have nothing better to do, so I keep coming.”

Harvey’s hand landed on Jace’s shoulder, and he gave him a prideful shake. “We all know you have plenty to do. You’re here because you’re a good, loyal grandson, and that’s that.”

Loyal. There it was again—the only trait her father seemed to care about, which also happened to be a trait he thought his daughter lacked.

Cambri slid a hook into the vice and started tightening it. “Mind if I try one, Grandpa Cal?”

“Have at it.”

It took a few failed attempts and some coaxing on Cal’s part, but Cambri finally figured out how to get the floss started. As she cut a piece of hackle and removed some strands near the stem, she peeked at Jace, her curiosity getting the better of her. “What brought you back here? I thought you were headed to college for a construction management degree because you wanted to start a development company.”

Jace’s jaw tightened at the question. “Plans change sometimes.”

Harvey grunted. “I’ll tell you what changed. After Cal retired, Jace’s parents decided to move to a warmer climate, and since Cal had already retired and didn’t want the business anymore, Jace came back to keep them from selling.” He directed a meaningful look Cambri’s way. “Like I said, loyal.”

“No.” Jace shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable with the compliment. “Being away at school made me appreciate home. I wanted to come back.”

Cambri returned her attention to the fly. Her father could make all the snide comments he wanted about her leaving, and although they stung, Cambri had always been able to shake them off. Tons of people moved away from home to pursue their dreams—people who were considered brave and independent, not disloyal. But after hearing Jace’s story and what he gave up for his family, Cambri couldn’t help but wonder if she was the person her father made her out to be.

Things might be different if she’d found a way to leave on good terms. Or if she’d stayed in touch with more than the expected birthday or Christmas call. Or if it hadn’t taken six years and a heart attack to get her to visit.

Her stomach clenched, making her feel queasy and uncomfortable. With quick, almost jerky movements, she wrapped the floss around the hook, securing the hackle to it in an imperfect way. Her few minutes were up. She was ready to leave.

Cal caught her hand, slowing her down. “Easy does it. Remember, you’re making a fly, not mummifying it.” His words were spoken in a light-hearted way, but they still opened the floodgates on Cambri’s emotions. The moment tears started to threaten, she handed Cal the bobbin, stood, and made for the stairs.