Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
“ I ’ve been a jerk.” Weston winced. That admission had sounded better in his head than said aloud with the din of the dining room behind him.
Paisley’s eyebrows peaked.
Apparently, she needed more. “I’m sorry.”
“For what, exactly?”
Right, she probably had a list of his misdemeanors a mile long, stemming all the way back to mid-May a year ago. She’d bounced into that first staff meeting like she owned the place, all peppy smiles and chit-chat for the newbies. After all, she was a repeater, having worked at Sweet River under the previous owners the year before.
Weston had not been full of peppy smiles and chit-chat. He hadn’t even been that kid in kindergarten, but definitely not when he was brand-new to the job and to being a grandson of a rich old geezer. He’d tried to be silently suave but, according to Jude, he’d only come across as rude and condescending.
Things hadn’t changed much .
And Paisley was still waiting, though she shifted from foot to foot and eyed the dwindling food line. “Look, I’m hungry. Get back to me when you know what you’re apologizing for.”
“I haven’t eaten yet, either.” He followed her to the plating station wherefresh rolls awaited coleslaw and pulled pork. The pan of roasted asparagus and radishes drizzled with balsamic vinegar was nearly empty.
They’d got here just in time, the last to be served.
Paisley headed for a table of housekeepers, taking the last chair.
Holding his loaded tray, Weston stared after her. Guess he knew when he wasn’t wanted. But she wasn’t completely wrong. The conversation they needed to have wasn’t dinner conversation, at least not in the busy lodge dining room.
An image of him sitting across a candlelit restaurant table from Paisley slid in front of his eyes. Was that what he wanted? To take annoyingly sunshiny Paisley Teele on a date?
Because if he was going to start dating someone, he’d be going all in. He’d be turning 29 this summer, which was practically 30, and he didn’t have the desire to date for funsies.
He wasn’t into fun, anyway. Just ask anyone. Ask Paisley.
“Did you need anything else?” Emma asked from behind the counter.
Weston blinked the dining room back into focus. “Uh, no. I’m good, thanks.” He spotted Maxwell and Jude and some other guys at a table near the emergency exit. They looked mostly done, but then, so did nearly everyone in the space. They’d do for company for now.
Since when did he want people around him? Maybe since this week. But mostly, he didn’t want to be seen as pitiable and alone. He set the tray down on the table. “Hey.”
“Bro!” Jude looked up. “How was the backcountry trip?”
Weston shrugged. “Next time, you can go instead.”
“Only if I can fly in.”
The guys chuckled.
Weston cracked a smile. “The lake might be big enough to land with pontoons.”
“Now we’re talking.” Jude forked a quarter of his brownie into his mouth while Weston unloaded his tray and settled in the chair. He allowed time for Weston to duck his head for a quick, silent grace. “Kids, though. Give you any trouble?”
Weston paused with his hand on his fork. How much to say? He did not come up smelling like roses on this one. “Typical for their age group, I guess. Paisley had it all under control. The other chaperones did their part.” He shrugged. “It was okay.”
“It must have been spectacular, since that’s high praise coming from you.” Maxwell laughed.
“It’s a pretty spot. Decent fishing. We had a side of trout last night.”
“We’ll have to do a guys’ trip up there some weekend,” Max suggested.
“It’s a solid four-hour ride each way.”
“Go in on a Friday night, come back Sunday afternoon?” Jude looked around. “Except we have staggered weekends off.”
“Maybe in September then.” Maxwell tapped the table thoughtfully. “Once the tourists ease off, Grandfather might let a bunch of us off the same weekend.”
“It has to be before Graham’s wedding,” Jude put in. “I’m leaving for flight school right after. Otherwise, sounds great. Let’s make it happen. You in, bro?”
Weston shrugged and swallowed the asparagus stalk he’d been chewing. “Sure. You guys have gotta be easier than wrangling kids.”
“You’d think.” Maxwell laughed. “But you might be wrong.”
Weston eyed his cousin. “What happened to Heather? I haven’t seen her around in a while.” Had he sounded innocent enough?
“Why, did you have designs on her?”
Ooh, touchy. “Of course not. I just wondered.”
“She went back to Kansas.”
“Huh. She’d worked with you for how long?”
“Eight years, give or take.”
“That long?” Weston whistled. “I bet you miss her. She seemed really knowledgeable on all the construction stuff.”
Maxwell narrowed his gaze at Weston.
Jordan chuckled and slapped the table. “What am I, chopped liver? I’ve been around nearly as long as she was. Her loss is my gain.”
Was the guy clueless about the undercurrents between Maxwell and Heather? But then, Weston wouldn’t have wondered, either, if he hadn’t overheard their conversation in the stable that night.
“I get the whole equality thing,” Maxwell said at last. “Women can do anything a guy can do, at least in construction and renovations. But there’s still extra tension with a mixed crew. So, it’s easier without her.”
The man might talk a good line, but he didn’t look convinced. Nobody had ever called Weston the brightest crayon in the box, but even he could see that Maxwell smiled less often. But then, he had that extra bit of knowledge others didn’t seem to have.
“How’d it go with Paisley on the out-trip?” Maxwell asked.
Oof. Talk about turning the tables. Weston shrugged. “Fine. She’s good with the kids. She had all kinds of things planned from scavenger hunts to devotionals.” Then he took a big bite of pulled pork. Maybe they’d get busy talking about something else. Or someone, at least. He couldn’t blame Maxwell for redirecting attention away from himself, though.
“She’s got a thing for you,” Jude drawled.
“I doubt it.” It had been true, but not since yesterday.
“She’s keeping an eye on you right now.”
Weston managed not to glance over. He knew exactly the angle she’d be at if he did. “Nah. She doesn’t like me.”
Jude snorted. “News to me, and I didn’t think you were that obtuse.”
“Trust me. It’s true.” Deflect, deflect! “How about you and Kaci?”
“Nothing there.” Jude shook his head. “Have you ever heard of just friends?”
“I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know if it can actually be true, at least not long-term.”
“Just friends is not a thing.” Maxwell scraped his chair back and stood. He gathered his dishes and strode away.
Jude stared after him. “Well, somebody has a burr under his saddle.”
Jordan snorted as he stacked his dishes and rose. “I’ll tell him you said so.”
“I said what I said.” Jude lounged back in his chair as the other men cleared out. Then he leaned forward. “So… Paisley?”
“Mind your own beeswax. Don’t you have places to go and people to see? You could hang out with your just-a-friend, Kaci.”
Jude chuckled. “You know what? I just might do that, because it’s so much less complicated than whatever you’ve got going on.”
“She shot you down, huh?”
“What do you mean?” Eyes narrowing, Jude leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “There was no shooting. Neither of us wants more.”
“You tell yourself what you need to hear.”
“Is that the delusional world you live in, big brother? You’re one to talk, you and Paisley doing the chicken dance. Bawk, bawk.” He flapped his tucked arms.
How had the entire dinner conversation devolved to women and relationships? This was like being 16 again, when girls, fast cars, and horses were all guys could talk about.
Next time, he’d lead off with trucks and see if he could keep the guys from delving into his love life or, more to the point, his lack of one. Seemed he was in the same boat as Maxwell and Jude on that one. Who knew about Bryce? He spent his days surrounded by female staff members.
And Jude was wrong about Paisley watching him. When Weston snuck a peek, she was focused on Kaci over at their table.
Paisley left the dining room surrounded by Kaci and her team. Safety in numbers, or something like that.
Outside, Kaci turned to her. “We’re having a games-and-popcorn night. Want to join us?”
“No, sorry. It’s been a really long few days.”
“And you need some downtime. I get it.” Kaci rested her hand on Paisley’s arm. “I bet you didn’t get that much sleep on the ground.”
“The air pad helped a lot, but yeah. Thanks for understanding — maybe another time.”
“Sure. See you later.” Kaci turned and followed the other women as they trooped back toward staff housing.
Cadence might be back at the duplex by now, though she might also be hanging out with Graham. Ugh, what if they were smooching on Paisley’s sofa? That was exactly what she didn’t need, though she respected that they limited the time they spent in Graham’s solo quarters. But tonight? She really didn’t feel like playing chaperone and dwelling on what-might-have-been.
Paisley pivoted toward the lake, where the racks of kayaks and paddle boards were full. Not many tourists wanted to get too close to the chilly water — other than kids like Matthew — this early in the season, not like in mid-summer when swimmers and kayakers cluttered the lake at all hours.
Should she take out a kayak? Her tired body said that sounded like work, even though a loon called from the far end of the mirror-calm surface. She sat on the ground on the other side of the watercraft rack, leaned back against a log, and plucked a tall stem of sweetgrass.
She needed to call her sister, but… was she terrible that she didn’t want to? Why couldn’t Mom have stayed clean? Didn’t she realize she was an example to her daughters? An example of what not to do.
At least all three of them had embraced that lesson and run with it. Kait had taken on responsibility for their mother, but Amelia had studied hard to get out of the house and landed numerous scholarships on her way to becoming a medical doctor.
Paisley? She’d coped in her own way. Poorly. Apparently, constantly running didn’t solve anything. Who knew?
She shredded the grass stem into as many pieces as possible and flung them in the air. They drifted back into her hair, on her shoulders, on her bare legs that were starting to get bumps from the cold.
Paisley felt his presence before she heard or saw him. How had Weston found her? Why did he need to become all nice now when her life was a mess? He should be the same surly cowboy he’d been for the past year, pushing her away, apologizing for nothing.
“You okay?” His voice was gravelly. Concerned.
Tears pricked Paisley’s eyes. “Sure.” But her voice cracked on the single word.
Weston lowered himself to the ground beside her, leaving a good bit of air between them. “Talk to me?”
“I can’t handle you being Mr. Nice Guy. ”
He huffed a laugh. “Wow, there’s a lot to unpack in that.”
Wasn’t there just?
“You prefer me grumpy? You must be the only one.”
“I didn’t say that. Exactly.”
“You pretty much did. And right when I want to apologize for being so mean to you for the past year.”
“It was fine. I pushed you.” And pushed. And pushed. And pushed some more.
“I needed it.”
“It’s not my job to try to change people. I kept forgetting.”
Weston was silent so long she snuck a peek. Oh, no. He was studying her. What did he see? Could he see the mess she really was on the inside, no matter how hard she tried to cover it?
“Something happened,” he said at last. “What?”
“I need to take some time away from Sweet River. Think your grandfather will let me?”
He reared back. “Now? The busy season is just ramping up.”
“I know, but it can’t be helped.”
“Is it… something I’ve done? Because I’m sorry. God’s been poking me even harder than you have, and I’m starting to clue in. Not gonna lie. I’m a work in progress, and I don’t know when I’ll get there, wherever that is.”
Paisley wiped her eyes with her forearm. “It’s not you.”
“Then what? You’re scaring me.”
She was scaring herself. “It’s my mom. She… sh e overdosed.”
Weston sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, man. I’m so sorry. Is she…?”
“She survived, at least so far. But I should probably go.”
He touched her arm. He touched her arm! Two days ago, she’d have been in seventh heaven. Now, she knew it was probably a bad idea.
“I’ll pray for you. For her. Again, I’m kinda rusty on that, but I’ll try.”
Paisley turned toward him. “Why are you being so nice?” The words came out more a sob than a question.
“Hey.” He draped an arm over her shoulder and shifted a little closer. “I understand messes better than just about anyone. And, well, I guess you’ve kind of grown on me. That’s why it matters if you forgive me for being such a jerk.”
That did it. All the pent-up emotion from years of being her mother’s daughter, of being the daughter of a man who’d never once shown his face — everything spewed out in a rush of ugly crying.
Ugly crying all over Weston’s T-shirt while his strong hands rubbed her back.
This was not how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to have fallen for her months ago, last summer maybe, or not at all. Certainly not when she didn’t even know which way was up.