Page 16 of Rescued Love

Ansel’s voice drops conspiratorially, “The scenery isn’t half bad there either. Think of it as Sweetwater Valley’s watering hole.”

“Yeah,” I agree while shaking out my arms before bending down to pick up some of the tools we’ve hauled along with us now that the job is done and they need to be put away, “it’ll be good to get out and see a different side of the town I only vaguely remember from childhood.”

As I help get everything put away and the rest of the chores done with the guys, I know I’ll need to have a conversation with Grandpa before I go anywhere. I have no doubt he’ll want to know why I’m asking too, which means I’ll have to tell him about Kimball’s visit.

Either his chest will swell with pride because I defended him or he’s going to look at me with disappointment. The odd thing is—I’m not even sure which one I would prefer.

CHAPTER 6

NATHAN

My grandpa is glaring at me from the other side of the kitchen table, the same one where I enjoyed dinner when I was visiting him in my childhood. Those memories give me a warm fuzzy feeling, but the way he’s looking at me right now is far from warm.

Or fuzzy.

I swear he’s thinking about all the places he could hide my body on his property.

The look on his face is disconcerting since I would never have seen him as a violent man or one to harm another person, but right now he’s considering it. It’s written all over the scowl on his face.

And he’s not wrong to be thinking about it.

I can only hope he won’t toss me to Salt instead of getting his hands dirty. The alpaca will happily do Grandpa’s violent bidding.

As I started to confess about Kimball showing up a few days ago and the conversation I had with her, I realized how horrible it sounded. Every word out of my mouth made me realize the level of asshole I was with her. It was off the charts.

Shame and regret are sitting in my gut. It’s a heavy feeling and one I don’t like at all. I’m not sure when I became this guy. Was it before I started my internship at the firm? Was it after?

There was a time when I believed in the inherent good within humanity. There was a time when I wasn’t so jaded. I miss being that way, even if it was naïve.

I can’t go back in time and make different choices, and I don’t know if I would want to, not really. But I do wish I had retained some of who I used to be.

“So,” Grandpa starts with a slight growl in his voice I’ve never heard before, “let me get this straight. That wonderful girl, the same one who bends over backward to make sure I have everything I need to take care of the animals here, came out to see me and you didn’t think to mention it for days?”

I open my mouth to respond, but the look he shoots me has my jaw shutting. Quickly. And so hard that my teeth click together.

“Not only did you not tell me about her visit, which is so rude and thoughtless I can almost feel your grandma rolling over in her grave,” his words have a bite to them which cause me to wince as my shoulders slump. “But you were rude to her and accused her of horrible things that would never even occur to someone like Kimball.”

“I didn’t know who she was,” I weakly try to defend myself.

I don’t have a leg to stand on at all. I know it. He knows it.

“Let me tell you who Kimball is,” Grandpa grits out through his teeth. “She’s someone who has adapted her plans and dreams from being a vet, which is what she grew up wanting to be, to devoting her life to animals in a different way, one whichshe could achieve. She does that at the rescue, but not just there. She comes out here to check on the animals, yes, but not in a malicious way.”

“I didn’t know that,” I interject with a whisper. “I thought she might be coming out to give you some sort of citation or to spy on you before getting you shut down.”

Now, to my ears, after hearing people talk about Kimball, I realize how ridiculous I was by thinking badly about her.

But I didn’t know.

And all I could see was Grandpa being taken advantage of in the same way Culbert took advantage of people. It was my own bias. I know it, but that didn’t stop me.

“Kimball would never do that,” he insists. “If she even got wind of someone coming down on me, she would put a stop to it. Hell,” he grunts, “she’s gotten Sheriff Wilder on my side, not that he wasn’t before. But she’s roped him into coming out and helping more than once. She wouldn’t stand for anyone trying to shut me down or fine me or anything.”

“Fuck,” I mutter softly, but it’s loud enough for him to hear.

The grave nod he gives me tells me exactly how badly I’ve fucked up. “You treated her like a criminal,” he sneers at me.

It makes me feel even worse, which I didn’t even realize was possible.