Page 13 of A Jilted Bride for the Cowboy

Aunt Nadine. Not that Graham could bring himself to use the title any more than Tate could. “You probably don’t require more information than I already gave you. Cadence needed a place to go until all this dies down. She’s a photographer and a social media expert. We need those skills here at Sweet River. Bam. Done.”

Tate chuckled and shook his head. “Do you have a thing for her?”

Graham narrowed his gaze. “You’re one to talk, hiring Stephanie to be Jamie’s nanny when you barely knew her but couldn’t keep your eyes off of her.”

“So, you are attracted to Cadence Foster.”

“I briefly was, back five or eight years ago. But that’s definitely not why she’s here.”

“Convince me.”

“What does it matter? We have an opening that matches her skills. We have vacant staff housing or, at least, we did last week. Is it full?”

“Mostly, but we can do some rearranging.”

“What’s the problem? Set a time for an interview if you want to be more formal. You’ll soon see she’s perfect.”

His cousin scrutinized him.

“For the job, cuz. Yeah, I maybe had a crush on her a long time ago, but you’d have rescued her, too, under the circumstances. You wouldn’t have left her within reach of Paul and that whole fiasco, either. Even if you are married to Stephanie now. My offer to Cadence wasn’t anything personal.”

“Paul Bradley’s a moron.”

“Agreed. I can’t believe he dumped her three days before the wedding. Then he called Cadence a dozen times yesterday while we were driving, begging her to come back, that he hadn’t meant to do it. She finally blocked his number.”

“Only you.” Tate’s muttered words were so low, Graham barely heard them.

But he did. “What was that supposed to mean?”

“Who but a softie like you would go to a wedding and help the bride run away?”

Graham set the coffee cup down carefully, so he could cross his arms and widen his stance without spilling anything. “You make it sound like I’m trying to scoop up women wherever I go and by whatever means possible. I haven’t even dated in years.”

Tate hadn’t either, before Stephanie. It got so complicated. Most of the people in their circles weren’t believers. They ricocheted from one relationship to the next without thinking anything of it. Divorce was as common as marriage. So long as money kept flowing, no one seemed to care a whole lot. And the women not in their circles? Mostly saw the dollar signs attached to the Sullivan name.

It was hard. Some would say it was cry-me-a-river hard, because didn’t money count for a lot? It helped, for sure. But it didn’t make relationships easy one tiny speck.

Tate glanced at his watch. “Grandfather and I will meet with her at 11:00 if that’s fine. You’re welcome to sit in.”

“I’ll let her know, but I’ll leave the three of you to it. She doesn’t need me lurking.”

A tiny smirk hovered at the corners of Tate’s mouth. “Your call. Where is she now?”

“At my place, but she needs a place to live.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Graham held up both hands, palms out. “No problem. I know I booked this whole week off, but I’m here now, so I’ll catch up on some paperwork this morning.” He snagged his coffee cup and pointed it toward his cubicle. Maybe someday Grandfather would have proper offices built in the lodge.

Maybe Graham didn’t care, since he wasn’t needed in Montana as much as the hands-on crews. He could work remotely from his apartment or from the Sullivan building in Chicago. Numbers didn’t care where they were crunched from.

Although it was kind of nice not being around the Paul Bradley types every day. Not having the hum of traffic underlying every moment. Hearing the calls of loons on the little lake was a pleasant change from the wails of sirens.

He shook his head as he made his way to the cubicle. Did he think he was going to turn into a country bumpkin like Weston or Jude? Fat chance.

Although country gentleman had a much nicer ring to it.

First, he’d shoot Cadence a text to tell her when to be ready for him to pick her up for her interview. Then he’d find some numbers to align.

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