Page 43 of A Jilted Bride for the Cowboy

“No.” Cadence exhaled. “That’s not what I mean. There’s an entire… situation.”

Weston narrowed his eyes and studied her.

What was the cowboy reading on her face? Cadence kept her expression as impassive as possible and sighed with relief when Paisley set a tray down on the table and began unloading bowls of chili and plates of cornbread. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Paisley slid into the chair between Cadence and Weston and pointed her spoon at Weston. “Your mother makes the best chili I’ve ever tasted.”

The guy nearly smiled. “She’s a good cook.”

“I’ve never eaten better in my life.”

Paisley had told Cadence about the loser parents she had and all the drugs that had been in her home growing up, so maybe Nadine didn’t have much competition. But, on the other hand, Cadence’s parents could afford the best, and she still had to agree that Nadine’s food was mighty fine.

Could her parents still afford the best if Cadence turned Paul down for good? Her gut soured. Why did she even think about that with an if in the middle? She couldn’t in good conscience marry the poser. And why was it her responsibility to save her parents from financial ruin when it was them, not her, who’d made a sketchy deal with Donald Bradley?

But then there was that whole honor your father and mother thing. How far did that go?

Paisley nudged her elbow. “Here’s the butter for your cornbread.”

“Right. Thanks.”

Was there any way Cadence could sort through all this on her own, or did she need counseling? And where, on this remote ranch with only a hick town nearby, would she find someone she could trust?

Lord? I need help. All the help.

If only He’d drop clarity into her lap, into her mind, with no doubts remaining. That couldn’t be too much to ask, could it?

Chapter Twelve

Graham had been watching for Cadence to return to the duplex she shared with Paisley for so long he’d begun to wonder if they had a back door he didn’t know about. The solar-powered streetlights glowed before the two of them turned onto Hummingbird Lane.

He levered off his front porch. “Cadence? Can we talk?”

The two women paused, but their faces were in the shadows.

“Please?”

“Not tonight.”

But why was Paisley answering? “Cadence?”

“It’s been a long day, Graham.”

Wow, she sounded exhausted. Graham got it. He would be, too. In fact, he was. “Okay.” He wanted to talk about the kiss. Talk about what Paul had said afterward. Tell her he loved her and wanted to fix everything for her.

Ask her to marry him.

Yeah, premature. He knew it, but still.

Maybe it was as well Paisley was protecting Cadence. Right now, she was tugging Cadence’s arm, encouraging her to keep walking.

One amazing kiss hadn’t earned him the right to interfere. But he’d also rescued her in Chicago. No, she didn’t owe him anything for that. They needed to talk — without him pressuring her or making assumptions — and that wouldn’t be tonight.

“See you tomorrow?”

Cadence nodded. Turned away.

He hated how needy he sounded, but… he was. She was the one who’d come to find him earlier today. She was the one who’d kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

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