Brides and Brothers by Anneka R. Walker

Chapter 36

Aiden

Aiden propped his hand on his knees to balance his phone better for his video chat. The cabin didn’t provide the best service, but it wasn’t the worst either. While Camille napped, Aiden stole upstairs to the loft to check on how things were going back home.

Benson propped his phone up on the counter so Aiden had a clear view of the kitchen table. He chuckled at the menu choice, courtesy of Chef Benson, but a classic meal of baked beans and potatoes beat frozen pizza any night. His brothers poured into the kitchen like dogs following the scent of food to the table.

“Thanks,” Easton said.

Benson nodded. “Aiden’s on video chat.” A few others nodded, but no one verbalized their greeting. Benson pointed to Daegan. “Plates.”

“Got it.” Daegan shuffled by Cade and grabbed the paper plates from the pantry.

With Camille gone, the house was a lot quieter. His brothers could communicate in grunts and one-word syllables and be satisfied. Aiden hadn’t been married long, and already he sensed the difference Camille made.

“Milk?” Flynn asked.

Benson grabbed the milk and passed it to Flynn.

Aiden cleared his throat. “Everyone set to leave after this?” He felt like he was breaking some sort of code speaking six words at a time.

He watched nods pass from one man to the next. They were all a little restless and probably anxious too. Few things could be worse than burning bridges with a person you cared for.

“Were the last of the parents called for permission?”

Everyone around the table nodded, which was a relief because he’d heard about Benson’s lengthy conversation with Daisha’s dad, Marvin. It had been a painful forty-minute conversation in which Marvin had overshared stories of his family’s past.

“Flynn, what did Sage’s dad say?”

“I talked to her mom, and it’s all good,” Flynn said.

Aiden went through a mental list of things he needed to nag about. “What’s been packed?” Their fifteen-seater van didn’t get used very often anymore, but it would be perfect for this trip.

Benson answered. “The coolers and some sleeping bags. And we came up with a way to convince the girls to pack a change of clothes. We told them it was for a surprise game we were going to play. I hope they like our surprise.”

“We’re all hoping,” Aiden said. “Eat quickly and go get your dates so you’re not rushing on the road.” He wished them luck and said goodbye.

Now he’d have to wait in suspense, hoping the roommates of apartment 206 would be swayed by the flowers the guys sent over with their separate apology notes. His brothers were only human, and he hoped the women would generously forgive them. Aiden rubbed his jaw. He hoped Camille would feel the same way when their surprise guests showed up and Aiden explained how he’d patched things up for everyone.

Later that evening Aiden flipped up the blinds in the dark guest bedroom—the room with the best view of the road. He couldn’t see a thing. The whiteout was making him nervous. The van should’ve made it back from the show by now. He pulled out his phone and sent a mass text to his brothers. It was the third he’d sent, but he hadn’t heard back from any of them yet.

He said a silent prayer for his family’s safety and went to the living room. Camille had gone to their bedroom to get a surprise for him, and he wanted the guys to get back so he could have a surprise to give back to her. He had three surprises altogether, but they had to be given in order. It was debatable whether she would like the first two surprises—the arrival of his brothers and their dates and his job offer in California—but the third surprise he knew she’d love.

He slipped back into his seat on the couch and propped up his feet on the ottoman. The sofa was worn and as old as he was. A memory of him as a child on his dad’s lap came to mind. He closed his eyes and tried to remember his mom standing in the doorway, calling them into the kitchen for dinner.

Camille entered the room, reminding him that he had a reason to focus on his future now. She carried a little wrapped box in her hands. “Were you watching the movie without me?”

“To be honest, it’s not my favorite movie,” he said, patting the seat next to him so she’d sit by him. “The woman’s pregnant and irrational. It’s painful.” Camille made a face, and he tried to amend his comment. “I’m sure it’s about to get better.”

She came and snuggled up to him, handing him the box. “This is for you, but you can’t open it until after the movie is over.”

“Shouldn’t I just open it now? You’re going to fall asleep again.”

“Aiden!”

“All right, I’m pushing play.” He held up the remote and turned the movie back on. The story was probably decent, and he might have even enjoyed it had it not been for the late hour and the storm outside. His family could be stuck somewhere in subzero temperatures. He would give them fifteen more minutes before he broke the news to Camille and called out a search party. He had some old friends in the area who would know what to do.

Ten minutes passed, and Aiden could hardly sit still. As predicted, Camille had fallen asleep again, so he turned the movie off, grabbed his coat, and slipped his boots on. He snuck outside and was blasted by wind and a flurry of snow. He could see his hand stretched out in front of his face, but he couldn’t see the end of the porch or beyond that. Their fence led up to the house from the road. If the driveway was snowed in, his brothers could park on the road and follow the fence. The real problem would be the amount of snow on the roads. Aiden knew that if anyone could get them home, it would be Benson. He had to trust his brother . . . and God.

Aiden stood uncomfortably outside in a flurry of white, his thoughts somber and concerned. His parents had died in a car crash. If anything happened to his brothers and Camille’s friends, it would be his fault. The cold numbed his face and hands. It froze his jeans and crept through the fibers in his coat and shirt until it reached his skin. Where were they?

Pulling out the gloves from his pocket, he shoved them onto his hands. He grabbed the shovel that was half-buried in the snow and leaning against the house. He shoveled and plowed through the snow, making a path to the porch steps from the driveway. He looked down to see the snow whipping around his feet and covering the path in a fine blanket. What wasn’t falling from the sky was being blown from one side to the other.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. He had to do something. He went back into the warm house and stomped his boots on the doormat.

“Camille!” he hollered from the door. “Camille, I need to talk to you!”

Camille came jogging around the corner, her sleepy eyes trying to snap into focus. “What’s going on? What were you doing outside?”

“I was shoveling the snow. I—”

“Shoveling?” Camille interrupted. “At this hour?”

Aiden took a hat off the hook on the wall and pulled it down over his ears. “The storm has turned pretty severe. It’s a whiteout; anyone driving is going to have a hard time seeing the road and the other cars. I need to go look for my family.”

“Family?” Camille’s eyes were awake and alert now. “I thought they weren’t coming until tomorrow.”

“My brothers took the ladies in apartment 206 to the Playmill Theatre tonight. They were supposed to come here afterward.”

“And they’re out there right now? In this weather?”

“I’m worried something has happened.” Aiden put his hand on the doorknob.

Camille grabbed his arm. “You can’t drive out there and look for them. It’s as dangerous for you as it is for them. You need to wait until it blows over. Did you try calling?”

“I texted them, but you’re right. I should try to call.” He pulled out his phone and checked for reception. “I don’t have any bars.” He hit the call button anyway, but the connection wasn’t there.

“Maybe they decided the storm was too crazy and staying longer wouldn’t be a good idea. They could be home by now.”

“No, this is closer. They would’ve stopped to wait out the storm, if nothing else.” Camille’s face took on a panicked look, and he reached out to squeeze her hand. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll go find them.”

Camille’s blonde hair whipped back and forth in an adamant no. “You can’t leave me here. If you go, I go. Besides, I haven’t told you—”

Aiden put his hands on her shoulders. “I can’t take you.”

The doorknob behind him started to jiggle, and Aiden moved out of the way as the door swung open.

Easton stood in the doorway, carrying Emma in his arms, and the others stood behind them. Aiden swallowed the lump in his throat. They had made it. He didn’t know if he should be angry or relieved. He felt a little of both.

“Hey! What took you so long? Did you stop and get married?”

“Married?” Easton asked, putting Emma down.

“You’re carrying her over the threshold,” Aiden joked, his relief overtaking his anger.

Easton rolled his eyes. “She stepped in a waist-high drift and lost her boot. We’ll have to come back in the spring and look for it.”

The others pushed inside behind them until the small foyer was packed with bodies.

“Take your shoes off, and come into the family room,” Camille ordered. His wife always knew what to say. He had picked a good one. A sleepy one, but a good one.

Shod in socks, they all shuffled into the family room. Aiden grabbed Benson’s arm on the way in. “What happened?”

“We slid into the fence at the end of the road, and it popped the left front tire. The car is stuck in the ditch. We’ll have to dig it out in the morning. The funny thing is I wouldn’t have seen the driveway if we hadn’t slid off the road.”

Aiden whistled. “It sounds like divine intervention.”

Benson was somber. He looked at the others and in a subdued voice said, “Someone was lighting up the road, and it wasn’t the headlights.”