Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
“ G randfather?”
The old man blinked twice as though that’s what it would take to get Weston into focus. “Yes? What can I do for you?”
Weston had taken a chance that Walter Sullivan would be in the office early. Mom said she’d taken a tray in for him half an hour ago, and neither Tate nor Graham would be clocking in today, since it was the weekend.
Still, Weston hesitated. He managed to get the door shut and cross the space. Grandfather gestured him to a guest chair, and he took a seat, rolling his cowboy hat around in his hands.
“Weston?”
“Sir.”
The old man chuckled. “Now that we know who we are, what can I help you with?”
Weston took a long breath. This was the first time he’d sought out his patriarch in all the time since they’d met less than a year and a half ago. “I’ve been doing some thinking, sir.”
Grandfather’s hands were folded on the desk in front of him, his shrewd eyes focused on Weston. He was paying full attention, but he wasn’t going to make it any easier, either.
But where to even begin? “First, I want to thank you for welcoming my mother, my brother, and me into your family.”
“It’s my pleasure, boy. I would have done it years ago had I known of your existence.”
Somehow, Weston believed him. Even if the truth had come out while Mrs. Sullivan had still been alive, Grandfather would have opened his arms. “I know I haven’t been the easiest one to win over. I guess I was suspicious.”
Grandfather nodded. Waited.
“I’m sorry I doubted you and made things more difficult. More awkward.”
“Already forgiven, boy. This whole situation flipped our entire universe end-over-end. Yours as well as mine. I can understand you needing some time to come to grips with the ramifications.”
“You took it in stride from the first day.”
The man chuckled. “You didn’t see my inner turmoil. It was a maelstrom in there while I grappled with all I’d known, what I thought I’d known, and what people would do when they found out.”
“I know your sons weren’t thrilled to discover they had a half-sister.”
“No, but I always wanted a daughter. You have to admit this family is heavily weighted toward the testosterone end of the spectrum.”
“Yes, sir.” Weston managed a short chuckle himself. “That’s true.”
“Turns out the only people who cared deeply about this aspect of my past were James and Theodore. The boys — your cousins — came around quickly once you were all brought together.”
“Brilliant move, sir. And one I didn’t fully appreciate at the time. I was wary of your motives. I thought you’d say, ‘Just kidding!’ as you pulled the rug out from under us.”
“I would never.”
“I know that now.”
“How much do you like your position as head wrangler? Would you like to try something different? Become a pilot? Start your own business? What would you do if you could do anything you wanted?”
Dreams. Weston and Mom had talked about those. “Definitely not flying planes. Jude can have the skies with my blessing. No competition from me.”
Grandfather grinned. “Fair enough. I never aspired to piloting myself, but I encouraged James’s interest, and I’m happy to facilitate Jude’s. We can use another pilot or two in the family. Maybe pick up a Cessna for local sightseeing tours. That might be popular with our guests.”
Weston blinked. This man might be in his 80s, but he had the ability to pivot with little notice. “Sounds genius.”
“But enough about planes if that’s not your interest. What is? Getting involved in the glamping stuff the boys are on about? The treehouses and the Conestoga wagons?”
“Not really.”
“Then what?”
“I-I don’t know, sir. I never allowed myself dreams growing up. There was no chance they’d ever come true, so I didn’t go there.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Weston had done all his dreaming via fiction. That had been almost as good as if it happened to him, since it didn’t involve risk or discomfort. Huh. Was that what he was avoiding? He didn’t mind discomfort so much, but peril? Maybe. But he’d taken a big risk last night when he’d kissed Paisley — twice — and it had stoked the only dreams he could remember having.
“I’m not here for myself, sir.”
“Oh?” A sparkle of interest gleamed in Grandfather’s eyes. “Go ahead.”
“It’s Paisley Teele. She just found out last night that there’s a family situation she needs to deal with back in Arizona, but she’s afraid to ask for time off with the busy season coming up.”
The old man winced and scratched his neck. “She’s heading up the Fourth of July festivities, and that’s only three weeks away. It really isn’t a good time.”
“Now is when her mom is in the hospital.”
Grandfather shook his head as his breath whooshed out. “Bad timing.”
“She could probably keep working on it from a distance.”
“Maybe, but she already suffers from squirrel syndrome. I’m not sure she’d be able to stay focused if she wasn’t on the ranch with the weekly staff meetings and other reminders of the timeline. ”
“She could do it.” But Grandfather wasn’t wrong. Paisley did go off on tangents on a whim, like that backcountry trip. “Or Cindy could cover.”
“If Paisley leaves, Cindy will have far too much to do on a daily basis to handle the event, too.”
Weston didn’t like how his grandsire was reacting. “You wouldn’t… let her go permanently over needing some family time?”
“Not willingly, but I have to tell you, I need workers who actually work, who are here, doing what they were hired for. She doesn’t have any vacation time coming, since it’s a seasonal position. I’m not sure what I’ll do if she asks for a leave of absence.”
So much for thinking this octogenarian could pivot on a dime regardless of what was tossed at him. Surely, he’d had staffing issues before. A man didn’t run a successful empire for decades without things coming up.
Weston’s heart sank. Walter Sullivan had already hinted at what he would do. He’d let Paisley leave… and he’d hire someone else who wouldn’t ask for time off.
It wasn’t Paisley’s fault! And she’d been estranged from her mother. She needed the closure, if at all possible.
“What all is involved in the Independence Day celebrations? Maybe there’s someone else who could step in.”
“Are you volunteering, Weston?”
“Uh… no?” But maybe? “I have a full job of my own over at the stables.”
“You have staff who can manage things, don’t you? Darrell… what’s his last name?”
“Ferguson. And yes, but I’m no organizer, sir. I don’t really do people, for one thing.”
“And yet, you’re here, pleading Paisley’s case.”
Weston pulled to his feet. “Apparently that was a mistake. I’m sorry for wasting your time, sir.”
“Sit.”
He sat.
“I want to know why it matters.”
“About the Fourth of July? Becau?—”
“No.” Grandfather’s hand sliced the air, cutting off the remainder of Weston’s reply. “About Paisley Teele.”
Weston clenched his clammy hands together. Might be sweat prickling the crew neck of his T-shirt, too. “She doesn’t deserve?—”
“Most people don’t deserve everything that happens to them. Why Paisley?”
He took a long breath and let it out slowly before meeting his grandfather’s gaze. “Because she’s special.”
Grandfather pointed a trigger finger at him. “And now we are getting to the crux of the issue.”
Paisley entered the dining hall for breakfast at the tail end of the line. Half the tables had already been vacated. Most of the staff had left.
And yeah, she’d been late because she was trying to figure out what to do. She’d finally called Kait, who’d begged her to come home and see their mother. Paisley wanted to — sort of — but she didn’t want to leave Sweet River. None of the scenarios she ran through her head ended with Mr. Sullivan shaking her hand and wishing her godspeed… and promising her that her job would be waiting for her.
How could she leave Montana, not knowing she had a job to return to? How could she leave Weston after last night’s kiss? Yeah, she hadn’t responded — much — but she’d had a very fragile hold on her willpower at the moment. If he’d stuck around, she’d have glued her lips to his.
It was better he’d walked away when she sent him.
Right?
Of course, right.
“Paisley!” Nadine bustled over, wiping her hands on her apron. “I held back a couple of carrot-pineapple muffins for you. I know they’re your favorite.”
Tears stabbed Paisley’s eyeballs. “Thanks.” Wow, she was going to miss this place. These people.
“Are you okay, hun?”
“Maybe. Thanks.”
“Let me have breakfast with you. Emma and Tina have everything under control.” Nadine raised her voice. “Don’t you, girls?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Tina called with a grin.
“Here. You pour yourself a hot cuppa tea and a black coffee for me. I’ll fix a tray for us both.”
Nadine even remembered the whole tea thing, when nearly everyone else kept assuming Paisley only had tea occasionally. No. It was her fuel like others drank coffee.
“Okay.” Maybe Nadine could put a word in with her father… but that wasn’t right. If Paisley couldn’t hold down a job on her own, she di dn’t deserve it.
A minute later she sat at a round table with Weston’s mother on the chair beside her. Paisley ducked her head in a quiet grace, but Nadine spoke out loud. “Father God, we thank You for another beautiful day. You are Jehovah Jireh, the God who provides, and we are grateful You supply all our needs. Thank You for this good food, and please bless Paisley Teele with all You have for her. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
“Thanks,” Paisley murmured.
“I can tell your usual bounce is gone, hun.” Nadine slathered butter on her muffin. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”
Your son kissed me.
Um, Paisley wasn’t about to tell the chef that. And Weston was only part of the problem. “It’s my mom, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Tell me.” Nadine set down her butter knife and turned to Paisley.
How much to say? But at Nadine’s full, motherly attention, Paisley dumped out her whole sordid story.
“Oh, hun.” Nadine slid an arm around the back of Paisley’s chair and hugged her. “That’s a heavy burden to bear. I’ll pray for your mother and your sister. Kait, you said her name was?”
“Yes, it’s Kait that stayed near Mom to keep a lookout. Amelia is interning somewhere out east, I think.” She hadn’t asked Kait for their eldest sister’s location… or if she was coming home.
“And you. You need to see your mama.”
“I’d like to, but it’s such a busy time here, and I have responsibilities.”
Nadine pointed her muffin at Paisley’s. “Eat something. And I know you do important work here, but I’m sure my father or my nephew can shuffle things around a bit to free you up for a week or so.”
“What if it’s more than a week?” Paisley picked a flake of crushed pineapple off the muffin and ate it. Mmm. She was hungry, after all.
“Do you think it might be longer?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” And therein lay the problem. It seemed Paisley had barely loosened the bonds enough to escape her mother’s sphere years ago. What would happen if she returned to Phoenix? She could already feel herself being sucked into the vortex.
But Mom was sick. Maybe dying.
Because she’d gone back to drugs after being clean for three years.
Three years in which Paisley had not returned to encourage her mother, because everything felt too fragile. And it had been just as delicate as she’d feared, but maybe it had nothing to do with her.
Or maybe it did. Who knew?
“The thing is…” Paisley picked another bit of pineapple out of the muffin. “I don’t know if they’ll give me the time off.”
“Why wouldn’t they?” Nadine lifted her coffee cup.
“Because that’s how it goes with seasonal jobs.” And there had been clauses in her paperwork that wouldn’t be the same as anything Nadine might have signed as a Sullivan family member.
“Hmm. Well, I’m sure they’ll be reasonable about it.”
Paisley would like to think so, but she had her doubts. This was a busy place, and the Sullivans needed employees who were present and working hard. If she wasn’t here, she’d probably be replaced.
Did she even dare ask? She didn’t feel that brave as she managed a few bites of scrambled eggs and half of a sausage.
“Nadine? What would you like done with the rest of the muffins?” Emma called.
“I should go.” Nadine patted Paisley’s hand. “You finish up that breakfast and talk to the Lord some more before you make any irreversible decisions.” She gathered her dishes and left the table.
If Nadine thought they’d hold Paisley’s job, she wouldn’t have mentioned the word irreversible, would she?
Either way, finishing breakfast was impossible, and she’d done little but pray all night. Okay, fine, she’d also tossed, turned, and relived Weston’s kisses.
That’s what she wanted to dwell on. She’d finally made inroads with the hottest cowboy she’d ever met — the only guy whose attention she’d ever craved — and then Mom had to ruin everything and remind Paisley which side of the tracks she’d been raised on. All the bounce Paisley was known for was a sham, just an act she’d put on to hide who she really was.
Broken.
Scatterbrained.
Not someone worth holding a job for.
There wasn’t any use in even asking to return.