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“Right. He wasn’t hung up on estate planning or on the size of His nonexistent house. His vacations took Him to mountaintops to pray for maybe a few hours before the crowds found Him again. I doubt His clothing looked any better than the next guy’s.”

Graham envisioned a first-century Jewish man just going around loving people.

“Beloved,” Grandfather quoted softly. “If God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.”

If a guy was talking about grand gestures to show love, hadn’t Jesus acted out the greatest one of all? He’d given His very life so that others could live. Others like Graham halfway around the globe in the twenty-first century.

How could he possibly love Cadence a fraction as much?

And what good was a grand gesture without the love?

* * *

Cadence pointed her camera at the head wrangler. “Say cheese!”

Weston glowered at her. “I don’t smile.”

“Would it kill you to try?”

“It might. What are you doing, anyway? Who cares about me? I’m only a cog in a random wheel around here.”

“Everyone is important. Besides, you’re one of the boss’s grandsons. People want to see your face.” She stared him down. “Your smiling face.”

“He’d have been as happy if he’d never heard of us. I don’t know why my mother insisted on finding him.”

Cadence let the camera hang from its strap around her neck. “Mr. Sullivan seems more contented lately than when I first came.”

Weston snorted. “As if it’s not enough to mess with Mom, Jude, and me, now he’s after my grandmother. She doesn’t deserve to be sucked into his vortex.”

Which direction was he going with that statement? That Ms. Eleanor wasn’t good enough for Mr. Sullivan? By his tone, she suspected the opposite. That his grandmother was better off without his grandfather.

Curiosity won out. “Are they going to keep seeing each other?”

“They’d better not.”

“Why? They obviously once shared some—”

“He took advantage of her. She was his lowly secretary.”

The elegant older woman didn’t look like she’d ever been a lowly anything. “If she can forgive him, shouldn’t we all do the same?” Not that Cadence had any personal investment in the matter.

“Someone needs to keep a cool head about them. My brother is all for a reunion. He’s nuts.”

“What do all your cousins think?”

Weston glowered at her. “The mighty Sullivans?”

“Your cousins Tate, Bryce, Maxwell, and Graham.” She kept her voice level.

He shrugged. “Who knows? Who cares? They don’t approve of me or Jude. They’d definitely be happier without us in the picture.”

“Tate met the love of his life out here in Montana. He’d never have come if it wasn’t for your mom finding her father.”

“Whatever.”

There was more to Weston’s hurt than his newfound extended family, but Cadence was in no position to probe deeper. She’d probably overstepped already, one of her best talents.

She held up her camera. “I need a few shots for social media.”