Page 46 of A Sunny Sweetheart for the Cowboy

Paisley finished skimming the messages. “No. Kait says she’s in rough shape, though. I should probably go see her.”

“I thought you never wanted to see her again.”

“I know I said that. But… she’s still my mother.”

Cadence huffed. “I wish I didn’t understand that quite so well.”

Cadence’s mom was a piece of work who’d put the family through a lot in the past couple of years, too. Different from Paisley’s mom, but still.

“Let’s get dinner, and then you can call your sister and decide what to do. She’s waited a couple of days for you. She can wait another half hour.”

“You’re right.” Paisley started walking again. “I don’t want to take time off.”

“Mr. Sullivan would grant it, no problem.”

“I’m sure. But I already come across as flaky, and he probably doesn’t need to know my mother’s an addict.”

“You might need to see her to get closure.” Cadence held the lodge door open for Paisley.

Maybe, but this was a bad time with the summer just gearing up. Plus, there was all the stuff for the Independence Day celebrations to finalize.

The chatter of voices and the clatter of utensils filled the air, at least the molecules that weren’t filled with the delectable aromas of pulled pork.

Paisley’s stomach rumbled. That sad sandwich beside the river up the mountain had been a whole lot of hours ago. She required sustenance before dealing with Kait and Mom.

They rounded the corner at the edge of the dining room, and Weston straightened away from the wall he’d been leaning against nearby. His gaze flicked to Cadence then back to Paisley. “Can we talk?”

Cadence snickered and detoured around him to the food line, leaving Paisley standing there. “Um, maybe?”

But she needed sustenance before dealing with Weston Kline, as well.

Chapter

Fourteen

“I’ve been a jerk.” Weston winced. That admission had sounded better in his head than said aloud with the din of the dining room behind him.

Paisley’s eyebrows peaked.

Apparently, she needed more. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, exactly?”

Right, she probably had a list of his misdemeanors a mile long, stemming all the way back to mid-May a year ago. She’d bounced into that first staff meeting like she owned the place, all peppy smiles and chit-chat for the newbies. After all, she was a repeater, having worked at Sweet River under the previous owners the year before.

Weston had not been full of peppy smiles and chit-chat. He hadn’t even been that kid in kindergarten, but definitely not when he was brand-new to the job and to being a grandson of a rich old geezer. He’d tried to be silently suave but, according to Jude, he’d only come across as rude and condescending.

Things hadn’t changed much.

And Paisley was still waiting, though she shifted from foot to foot and eyed the dwindling food line. “Look, I’m hungry. Get back to me when you know what you’re apologizing for.”

“I haven’t eaten yet, either.” He followed her to the plating station where fresh rolls awaited coleslaw and pulled pork. The pan of roasted asparagus and radishes drizzled with balsamic vinegar was nearly empty.

They’d got here just in time, the last to be served.

Paisley headed for a table of housekeepers, taking the last chair.

Holding his loaded tray, Weston stared after her. Guess he knew when he wasn’t wanted. But she wasn’t completely wrong. The conversation they needed to have wasn’t dinner conversation, at least not in the busy lodge dining room.

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