Brothersong (Green Creek #4) - T.J. Klune Page 0,93
do too, almost as much as they do. Promise me. We can’t go through this again.”
And even though I couldn’t make such a promise, I did anyway.
Bambi was last. She moved slowly down the steps with her precious cargo. Rico was at her side, and it was as if he was glowing from the inside. He was strutting, continually glancing between Bambi and the baby in her arms.
They stopped before me.
Bambi said, “Would you like to meet your nephew?”
“But we’re not—”
“Carter.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And then I had an armful of blanket and child, Rico telling me I needed to prop up his head, adjusting my elbow until I had it right. “I read a lot of books,” Rico told me. “I take this shit very seriously.”
I looked down.
Joshua Thomas Espinoza stared up at me, blinking slowly. His eyes were dark, like his father’s. Rico pulled the blanket back slightly, and a little hand reached up to touch my nose and chin. I pressed my lips against his forehead, breathing him in. “Hello,” I whispered to him. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Carter. Apparently I’m your uncle, even though that’s not quite how genetics—”
“Carter.”
I shook my head. “Yeah, yeah.” I looked up at Bambi and Rico. “You did good.”
“Right?” Rico said. “He’s pretty much the most beautiful baby ever born. And I can say that with absolute certainty. I’ve seen baby pictures for most of the people here. You were all ugly compared to him. Especially Tanner.”
“Hey!” Tanner glared at him. “You know I was dropped a few times. It’s not my fault I had a weird-shaped head. Not cool, man.”
And then my mother said, “Who do we have here?”
I turned to look at who she was talking to, Bambi taking Joshua back.
I had a moment of panic, fierce and terrible, when I saw the truck was empty, the passenger door hanging open. He was gone, he was gone, he was—
“Hello,” my mother said.
A timber wolf stood at the back of the truck, peering around the side. He saw us looking at him and ducked back like he was trying to hide, but he was too big. I could see the tops of his ears over the truck, the curve of his back. He leaned his head forward again just barely, nose and whiskers twitching. He whined quietly and pulled his head back again.
I started to step forward, but Ox grabbed me by the arm, shaking his head. Just wait, he mouthed.
I did.
Mom approached the timber wolf slowly, her shawl fluttering behind her. She only had eyes for him, and he watched her warily, ducking his head back behind the truck again as if she wouldn’t be able to see him.
She stopped near the back wheel well and took the shawl from her shoulders, settling it on the ground in the thin crust of snow. She sat down upon it, hands on her knees. It was cold, and I could see the gooseflesh along her arms, but she stayed still.
She said, “Gavin.”
He made a noise that I’d never heard a wolf make before, almost like the hoot of an owl. It was as if he were acknowledging her. He knew what she was.
She said, “You were with us for a long time. And I knew you as much as a mother knows her children, though you were always as you are now. I would like to see your face, if you’d show it to me.”
He pawed at the ground.
She nodded as if she understood. “You saved us. You saved Carter. When all seemed lost, when my son’s fate lay in the hands of a monster, you found it in yourself to let go of the wolf and return to your true self. I never got a chance to thank you for that. I’d like to now.”
He leaned around the truck again, this time his whole head. His eyes were violet.
“You had a place here,” she said. “With us. Even when you were lost to your wolf, you recognized us for what we were. What Gordo was. What Carter was. Isn’t that right?”
He huffed out a breath in response.
“But regardless of family or fate, you would still have belonged to us just as much as we belonged to you.”
He stepped out from behind the truck.
“Jesus,” Rico whispered behind me. “I’d forgotten how big he was.”
Gavin glanced at me over my mother’s shoulder. I nodded at him, and he turned his gaze back to her, though he kept his distance.