“You’re going to be late to your own party.”
Callum Fortune turned at the sound of his sister’s teasing voice. “It’s a ribbon-cutting ceremony, Squeak. Not a cocktail gala.”
Stephanie Fortune, younger than Callum by three years but the oldest of David and Marci Fortune’s four daughters, approached Callum’s shiny silver truck. Her pale red hair was pulled back in a braid and she wore dark jeans and a gray sweater that could have benefited from a lint roller. As a vet tech and all-around animal lover, Stephanie was often covered in dog and cat fur. Or whatever breed of animal she was caring for that day. Her heart was as big as her personality and one of the things Callum loved most about her.
“It’s past time you stop calling me that,” she told him with an exaggerated eye roll. “What if someone in Rambling Rose hears you and the nickname catches on? I’d be mortified.”
“It’s our secret,” he promised with a wink. “But you’ll always be my Pipsqueak no matter where life takes either of us.”
“I’m home,” Stephanie said, her tone definitive. “There’s no other place I’d rather be.”
“Then I’m glad you came along on this adventure.”
Callum agreed there was something special about Rambling Rose, Texas. The small town sat equidistant between the larger metropolitan areas of Houston and Austin. Callum had first learned about it through a documentary, The Faded Rose, he’d watched late one night when he’d had trouble sleeping. Shortly after, he’d traveled to Paseo, Texas, with his father for the wedding of David’s brother, Gerald Robinson—or Jerome Fortune as he was once known. On a whim, Callum had driven to Rambling Rose and within a week he’d made offers on a ranch in a gated community outside town as well as a half-dozen commercial properties.
Real estate development was Callum’s passion, and he’d made a name for himself in his home state of Florida and a good portion of the Southeast as someone who could revitalize small-town communities by working together with residents, local businesses and government agencies. He loved the challenge of breathing new life into spaces that had seen better days.
From that perspective, Rambling Rose was a perfect next step in Callum’s career. The town had a long history in Texas but was sorely in need of a face-lift and someone to invest in the local economy. Callum’s father, David, had his doubts. The entire Fortune family, both new and established members, had been shaken by the kidnapping that had almost ruined Gerald’s wedding to his first love, Deborah, six months ago. David was a huge success in his own right thanks to his wildly profitable video game empire and had reservations about claiming his place in the extended Fortune brood even before that shocking turn of events. Even though the day had turned out happily in the end, David’s protective instincts had kicked into high gear. He’d encouraged his eight children to stay far removed from any sort of involvement with the Texas Fortunes.
He and Marci, Callum’s beloved stepmother, had been understandably concerned at Callum’s rash decision to move to the small town, especially when his older stepbrother, Steven, younger brother, Dillon, and half sister, Stephanie, came with him. But Callum trusted his instincts when it came to real estate. He had no doubt Rambling Rose was the right decision, and his siblings’ joining him was an added bonus.
He stood with Stephanie in the parking lot of the new Rambling Rose Pediatric Center, which was due to officially open its doors in two days. Callum was proud of everything his crew and the subcontractors he’d hired had accomplished in the past few months.
The building, which was situated about ten minutes north of Rambling Rose’s quaint downtown area, had been almost completely gutted and rebuilt to house a state-of-the-art health facility where local children would receive primary medical, dental and behavioral health care at a facility designed just for them.
“We should go in,” he said before Stephanie asked the inevitable question of whether he saw himself staying in Rambling Rose long-term. She wouldn’t have wanted to hear his answer, but the thought of committing to the town longer than it would take to finish their projects made his skin itch.
Since he’d started his construction company, his modus operandi had always been to go with the work. He focused his efforts on small-town revitalizations but once he’d met his goals in a community, Callum moved on.
He wasn’t a forever type of guy, at least not anymore.
“How are things at the vet clinic?” Stephanie asked as she fell into step next to him.
“On schedule to open next month,” he answered, giving her a gentle nudge. “Don’t worry, Squeak. We’ll make sure you’re still gainfully employed.”
She gave him a playful nudge. “What do I have to do to get you to stop calling me that?”
“The dishes and my laundry for a week.”
“Done.”
He chuckled. “I should have held out for a month.”
“Don’t push your luck. I know how much you hate folding clothes.”
“Been there, done that,” he told her. He’d been three and his brother Dillon two when their father had married Marci. She’d had two boys of her own that she brought to the marriage: Steven, who was two years older than Callum, and Wiley, who was Callum’s age. They’d had Stephanie right away and the triplets had followed five years after that. Marci was a great mother and treated all the kids with the same love and kindness. But the pregnancies had taken a toll on her health.
As a young boy, Callum had found himself responsible for the girls and running much of the household while his father focused on the explosive success of his first video game launch. The role had come naturally to Callum, but the added responsibility had robbed him of much of his childhood. He’d managed laundry for a household of ten from the time he was in elementary school until Marci’s health had improved.
He didn’t regret the time he’d dedicated to his siblings, but it definitely made him less inclined to take on more domestic tasks than were necessary to function as an adult.
“You still can’t fold a fitted sheet the right way,” Stephanie said in the flippant tone she’d perfected as an adorable but annoying little sister.
“No one can,” he countered.
“Martha Stewart has a tutorial on it.”
He shook his head as they approached the entrance of the pediatric center, where a small crowd had gathered. “I’m not watching Martha Stewart.”
A flash of color caught his eye, and he noticed a woman pushing a double stroller toward the entrance. Two toddlers sat in the side-by-side seats, and one girl’s blanket had slipped off her lap. The corner of the fabric was tangled in the wheel and the girls’ frazzled-looking mother struggled to free it.
“There are Mom and Dad, with Steven and Dillon,” Stephanie told him, taking a step toward their family, who stood near the swath of ceremonial ribbon that stretched in front of the center’s entrance.
“Be there in a sec.”
Without waiting for an answer, Callum jogged toward the woman and her two charges.
“Can I help?” he asked, offering a smile to the