Page 49

“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.”