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“He’s not.” Except he had been. What to think?

Paisley gave a firm nod. “Exactly.”

“It’s been a long day. I’m not following.”

“In all this time, I’ve only seen Graham Sullivan do one impulsive thing, and that was return a few days earlier than planned with a jilted bride in tow.”

Cadence flinched. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“So… was he being impulsive? Or wasn’t he?”

“He didn’t come to Chicago expecting to rescue me, that’s for sure. He didn’t know I needed it.” She hadn’t known it herself, but she should have. If only she hadn’t stuck her ostrich head in the sand and, instead, kept a keen lookout around her.

“Therefore, I deduce that his rescuer side is more prominent than his deliberate side. It just doesn’t get called on every day, but when it does, look out, world.”

Was her roommate right? It made sense. Taken to a logical conclusion — if she were even capable of one after the excessively emotional, long day she’d had — it was no wonder Graham had backed off once she was settled at the ranch. His job was done. She was rescued, and he could go back to his carefully curated, methodical life with a clear conscience.

There was no room for wild cards like Cadence Foster in a life like that.

And she’d kissed him like a wanton woman, practically assaulting him in the process. Had she given him a chance to say no? Not so much.

Cadence looked over to where Paisley sat in the easy chair, a smug grin on her face. “You’re right.”

“Always.”

“And modest.”

Paisley chuckled. “So, you’ll talk to Graham tomorrow, like you promised?”

“If I don’t chicken out.”

“I’ll pray for you.”

“Thanks. I need it.” Because it wasn’t going to be easy to apologize to Graham and acknowledge that she’d taken advantage of his inability to leave a damsel wallowing in her distress.

But she needed to face it. She needed to take responsibility for her own actions. She needed to rescue herself without Graham’s help, even when it felt like Paul had tightened his grip on her wrist and wasn’t about to let go.

The guys might be cousins, but the situation wasn’t Graham’s fault nor his problem. He didn’t need to keep extricating her from difficulties she’d brought upon herself.

It was up to her. She took a deep breath and imagined herself tugging up her big-girl panties.

God helped those who helped themselves, right? That was in the Bible somewhere. She couldn’t quite remember where, but she’d heard it often enough, so it must be true.

So, she’d find her way through this mess with Paul, hopefully without ruining her parents’ lives in the process, and then God could bless her. If she could ask a boon, it would be that the blessing would include Graham.

Boon. Who talked like that? Only people in fantasy novels. No one in this millennium, that was for sure.

Chapter Thirteen

Cadence hadn’t been at breakfast, and Graham couldn’t wait any longer. Not when Grandfather’s meeting would start in five minutes in the conference room. He didn’t dare be late for that.

Aunt Nadine wiped her hands on her apron as she passed Graham, offering a smile.

He smiled back and fell into step beside her. “You’re brave.”

“Me?” She laughed. “I’m shaking in my boots.”

Graham glanced down at her sensible white tennis shoes.