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He shifted his feet, wanting so much for that sentiment to soak into his bones.
“I think Mom and Dad would be proud of you.”
And those were the words he clung to when he sat down with Nathan Decker five minutes late for his appointment at the Loon Café. Because he’d needed those extra minutes to pull himself together.
He remembered Nathan, whose daughter, Colleen, had been a volleyball star in school.
The man’s brown hair looked lighter now, with silver strands throughout.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“Ready to get things started?” Nathan spun a stack of paperwork across the table and slid it into place facing Grayson.
“Sure.” The word came out a little tight. Pinched.
“I did some preliminary work, based on our phone call.”
Grayson nodded and stamped down the emotions swirling inside. He could only hope Mom and Dad would be proud of him like Robin had said. That he wasn’t being blinded by selfishness.
Again.
* * *
Beth satdown at her desk Tuesday afternoon, her office redolent with sweet hay mixed with aged wood, animals, dust, and leather.
It would have calmed her except the to-do list from Noah stared up at her. She needed to dig into family camp and all that it entailed.
Instead of shopping with Vivien, she should have been at the camp—volunteering hours during her off time.
Sure, Vivien had helped her pick out a few pairs of boot-cut jeans for riding and a pair of turquoise-and-tan Ariat boots that made her smile. She would have called it quits there, but then she’d fallen in love with a jade-green-and-peacock-blue paisley blouse.
She snagged a pen from the desk drawer and enumerated the items on the to-do list. Update the camp registrations, check hay supply and contact sellers, check fencing, review vaccine schedules, update the website, make a list of tack that needed repair, order any necessary trail maintenance, review camp grants, and return all grant renewals.
Oh, and review the family camp activity schedule. She skimmed the rest of the list. Deposit checks at the bank, complete sponsor applications, and have the manure pile turned.
Wow. Was that all?
It was becoming evident that she’d glamorized the job a little. Thought it was all purpose, playtime, and praise.
What had she been thinking? She needed to learn how to say no, because the to-do list was far too long.
She heard Tally moving in her stall.
Add to the list—keep Tally from dying or being permanently lame.
Beth walked to her office doorway. “What do you think, Tally? Am I totally messing this job up?” She lifted the lid on the large metal can in the barn aisle and pulled out a handful of horse treats from the bag inside. “Which one of you wants to help me with these grants?”
The two horses let out deep nickers. Remington’s neck stretched over his Dutch door too.
“You’re going to get me into trouble, being so loud.” She went to Remy first and held out a treat for him. He grabbed it with his lips. Crunched.
Tally let out another soft nicker and took a tentative limp forward.
“Are you volunteering, sweetie?” She fed Tally a treat, the lips tickling her palm. “We’re besties now, right?” She leaned to get a look at the bandage, which still held in place since the last wrap change.
Beth gave Tally another treat, then slid a chair into place outside the stall’s Dutch door. She grabbed her laptop, journal, water bottle, and grant files from the desk and plopped them on the chair. Tally stepped back, just out of reach.
But she didn’t back away completely.
