Page 13 of High Water

“They have a good selection.” Tiffany flashes a flirty smile at me, and my grandmother doesn’t miss it, blatantly kicking me under the table.

“Maybe when work slows down sometime, I’ll give it a try.” I have no intention of doing that, but I’m not trying to hurt anyone’s feelings today.

“I’d be up for a whiskey flight this weekend,” Chase volunteers. Tiffany glances over at him and gives a customer-service smile before she answers.

“Maybe I’ll see you there.” She’s noncommittal in her response.

“I’ll give you my number, and you can text me if you want to meet up.” Chase snatches the pen off her apron and scribbles onto a napkin while my grandmother watches. Her eyes snap up, and she glares at me from across the table. I just shrug as I watch him hand Tiffany the napkin. There’s no real loss for me there because I don’t have any intention of going after Tiffany.

“Thanks,” Tiffany says, but her eyes make their way back to me and then to my grandmother as she tucks the napkin and the pen back into her apron and disappears. My grandmother gives her a sympathetic look, and once she’s out of sight, her gaze falls hard on me. I can feel a passive-aggressive speech coming on about my prospects for a future if I continue my bachelor ways. For once, Chase comes to my rescue.

“On that note, I should probably get going. I’ve got some work I’ve got to get done on a project site.” My half brother stands and pushes his chair back in.

“You still working with the same company?” my grandmother asks, referencing his work in construction.

“Yeah. I got a nice pay bump and a new title though.” He leans over to hug her.

“Well, that’s exciting.” She pinches his cheek before she kisses it and then pats his arm to send him off. “I’ll see you next week.”

“See you then,” he answers, nodding briefly at me before he turns down the hall. “Have a good one.”

When he’s barely out of earshot, my grandmother turns back to me with a petulant roll of her lip and a stern look.

“I meant her for you, you know. She’s a nice girl. Chase wouldn’t appreciate her. But you would. I wish you’d settle down with someone sweet. Someone your speed who can help you out around the house and make you some home-cooked meals.”

“I can cook, and when it’s just me, the cleaning is manageable, Grams. I’m doing all right.”

“You’re not lonely?”

“Not especially. And there’s a woman I have my eye on.” I’m probably going to regret even mentioning it. For one, because it’s a snowball’s chance in hell of ever happening again, and for two, because my grandmother will just become fixated on it. But at this point, I’d rather she fixate on the imaginary than on Tiffany every time I stop by.

“Oh yeah?” she asks as I take a long draw off my lemonade.

“Yeah. She’s sweet too.” In her own way, at least.

“So it’s not your daughter’s mother then?”

“What?” I sputter, nearly choking on the lemonade and irritating my throat in the process. My eyes water as I stare at my grandmother. She looks at me like I’m being ridiculous as her form blurs together, and I snatch a napkin off the table to try to cover my cough.

“Your daughter’s mother. That Stockton girl. My understanding is she isn’t the nicest. A viper just like her brothers, as I understand it.”

“What are you—I don’t know—” I start, but the look on her face cuts me off.

“Don’t lie to me, sonny.” There’s a dare in her eyes, and I’m not even sure where she picked up “sonny.” She must be taking tips from her friends on how to terrorize her grandchildren.

“How do you even…” I barely have words, and the ones I do have, I’m stumbling over.

“I went down there for a girls’ weekend. The event coordinator here set us up with a little getaway to do some bird watching and have some high tea at that quaint inn down there on the other side of the mountain from our ranch. You know the one.”

“Purgatory Falls Inn?” It’s the Stocktons’ family inn, and Aspen’s brother Ramsey’s fiancée, Hazel, runs it these days.

“Yes. That’s the one. It’s at that ranch you used to work at when you were a teenager.”

“Yeah. And how did that end with you coming up with a theory about me having a child?”

“It’s not a theory. Don’t patronize me by pretending it is. I was poking around the library in the inn one night, looking at all the books and some of the paintings and photos they have up. Can’t help but be a little curious about what the neighbors have been up to, you know,” she tosses in like that somehow covers her nosey nature with a veil of pretext. “I saw a picture of a girl and her mom. Dressed up in old west-looking outfits in one of those photos they like to take up in the tourist towns. The girl had your eyes. And then I looked at her mom, and she looked just like that girl I saw you with in town one day years ago. An older version of her, to be sure, but her all the same. Asked a few questions about the family when the innkeeper was taking us on a tour. Doing the math, I could guess the daughter woulda been old enough to be yours before you took off.” She looks me over and shakes her head. “But those eyes were undeniable. Just like you and your mom.”

“You didn’t say anything.”