Page 73 of A Sunny Sweetheart for the Cowboy

He’d also never been in love before.

Was that what kept him resolutely focused on Paisley’s return and making sure she could hit the ground running as soon as she arrived?

He’d once waited and waited for Rayna to realize she should’ve stayed with him. How was this different?

It just was.

But… how?

The kettle boiled, and he poured hot water over the grounds in his French press.

Okay, it was different because Paisley wasn’t Rayna, and Weston wasn’t the same guy he’d been back then, either. He’d been wavering in his faith, unsure of the goodness of God after all that had happened with Dad’s death and the sale of the ranch. Instead of digging his grip tighter into God’s word, he’d let his negative thoughts isolate him.

The Sullivans’ faith was strong. Grandfather expected Weston in church every week, and Creekside Fellowship down in Jewel Lake had been a breath of fresh air after their former church, especially when Eli preached. But Pastor Marshall’s recent series on the fourth chapter of Philippians had jabbed Weston hard in the heart.

It was God who did the saving, but it was Weston who needed to rejoice, to present his prayers with thanksgiving, and to keep his focus on positive thoughts rather than dwelling on the negative.

That internal battle was his to fight. Sure, if and when he asked for help, God absolutely gave it, but he couldn’t passively expect change if he didn’t work on it himself, too.

So, yes, this was different than it had been with Rayna in many ways. In all the ways that counted.

Rayna was only back in Montana because she hoped he and his money would be an easy mark. Nope. He wasn’t the slightest bit interested in her. Wouldn’t have been, even without Paisley in his life. It wasn’t Paisley who had changed that in him. It was Jesus.

He slowly pushed the French press plunger down and poured a mug of the strong brew. Ahhh. Just what he needed.

The phone rang, and he snatched it up. Paisley! “Hello?”

“Hey, Weston.” She sounded beyond exhausted. “It’s Paisley.”

“I know.” He infused the words with a smile, hoping she could hear it in his voice. “How are things?”

“There’s so much. I don’t even know where to start.”

“The beginning?” he suggested, taking a seat. But before she began speaking, he surged out of it and started pacing the small area.

“I’ve met my father, and he’s a creep. My mother — I don’t know if she faked some of this or not, but she’s with him and, well, I have no reason to think she’s clean or planning to get that way any time soon. But she did ask about God, and I was able to share Jesus with her.”

Weston’s heart hurt at the pain in her voice. “That part is good, right?”

“It is. And then he came in — Earl — and made fun of my religious kick, as he called it, and Mom laughed, too. But she wants me to stay, and Kait wants me to stay, and I think they need me…” Her voice trailed off.

I need you, too.

The words were on the tip of Weston’s tongue, but they weren’t the right ones to voice. “Is staying what God wants you to do?”

“I don’t know!” she wailed. “I’m so confused. I don’t know what good I can do here, but if there’s any chance my mom or my sister will come to know Jesus, then that’s worth everything, isn’t it?”

Everything was a big word, but she wasn’t wrong. “I’ll keep asking: what does God want you to do?”

“What do you think I should do?”

“I want you here, of course. We’ve only just begun to explore a relationship that…” He let out a long breath. “A relationship that I hope is going somewhere promising. But this isn’t about what I want, or even about what you want. What does God want?”

“I should stay for a few more days. Mom is getting out of the hospital tomorrow. But if I stay, I’ll lose my job. I might already have, since there’s no way I can be back by tomorrow morning.”

“Have you talked to Tate?”

“No.” She hiccupped. “I’m scared to. And isn’t it your grandfather I should talk to?”

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