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Not a walking mess from awkward dates that make me think the worst. Particularly about a guest who’s a bit of an oddball with an appalling taste in snacks, but that doesn’t make him a criminal.
I want Weston to keep seeing adult me—not the kid who needs constant rescuing.
I think the break-in at Faye’s went to my head, too. I’m making more out of the noises I heard last night than I should. For all I know, it wasn’t even the door I heard shut.
I also know Weston. And whatever guarded, sad soldier he’s become, he’s still built from solid granite.
If I send him chasing after my worries, he won’t give up, bloodhound that he is.
Anything I say has to sound legitimate and backed up with hard proof before I bring it to him.
Then there’s the way he’s holding my hand, rubbing my wrist with his thumb, flinging my thoughts straight into the ether.
Ugh. I wish adult me came with a special off switch for obsessing over bright-blue eyes and hips that look sculpted to blow my back out.
“It’s just Gram,” I say, racking my brain for excuses. “I’m worried about her. What if she was up last night, walking around and I didn’t hear her? What if she fell or something happened? Speaking of security systems, maybe I should have that app Marty has on my phone. If she fell, she’d be right back in the hospital.”
That’s not just an excuse, it’s a real concern. The doctors warned that her falling was the number one thing to watch out for after hip surgery.
“I’m sure Marty can get it on your phone. If you’re worried about having another person to look after, Faye can stay with me,” he says.
That’s the last thing I want.
With another guest, Carson wouldn’t dare come creeping around...would he?
“No, they’re having a ball. Let’s not ruin it. Having Faye there will help both of them, I think. Friends keep Gram busy and relaxed, which means she’ll relax and won’t try to do as much. And you know as well as I do Faye needs the company after what happened...”
“Fine. I can believe keeping Thelma down isn’t easy,” he says with a smile.
I’m glad he believes me.
“It’s not easy, but I have to respect her pride. She’s so used to helping others, offering hospitality at the B&B. It’s what she’s always done. Nurturing. Whether it’s me or Marty or the guests who need it, and I think she’ll only give that up when she’s breathed her last. Once her hip feels better, she’ll be back to her old self.” I shrug. “It’s just the transition that’s tough on her.”
“And tough on you,” he adds.
“No, not really.” I feel guilty using Gram as an excuse, but at the same time, saying it out loud makes me realize how much I’ve worried about her. “I just...I keep thinking about leaving again. Leaving her alone after everything is good and I’m back in Washington for work.”
He’s quiet for a moment, then says, “She won’t be alone. Marty’s here and so am I. Even Sheriff Drake’s only a quick call away if she needs him.”
That just dredges up more guilt.
“I know, and I appreciate both of you more than you’ll ever know. But that’s a lot to put on your shoulders.”
“It’s nothing. If people weren’t neighborly, it wouldn’t be Dallas, and that’d be a damn shame.” He turns, tugging my hand. “We’d better get back over there.”
“Right. Thanks again for letting me borrow the scrapbook. I can’t wait to dig through everything.”
That’s an epic understatement.
I’m honestly bouncing out of my skin to read more of it.
I think I would’ve parked myself on his couch all night doing exactly that if it wasn’t for dinner.
Dallas history has always made me geek out ever since Gram and Grandpa sparked my interest. Looking through the book reminds me just how rich in history this whole community is.
It’s easy to forget how much I’ve missed that when I’m away, living in a city where the fate of the world was decided at times.
The Smithsonian should vastly overshadow all the footnote history here in this dusty little North Dakota town.
