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“Like what?” She removed Tally’s halter and led the way out of the stall.
He tossed the used bandages into a trash can. “You’ve got camp set up, ready to go, right?”
“Weeks one and two. We have full sessions, fees paid, waivers on file. I still need to figure out some family camp activities.”
She scooped up her laptop, journal, and paperwork from the hay bale and carried them into her office.
Grayson followed. “See? That’s happening because of you.” He slid into the chair opposite her desk.
“I don’t know that it took any special talent.”
“You do have talent. I’m completely confident in your abilities.”
His words made her smile. “Thanks.”
“Where’s the to-do list with my name on it?” He peered across her desk.
“Oh, it’s here.” She lifted the scroll-length note from Noah. “Anything with horse, tack, or manure on it—it’s yours.” She grinned. “Think you can handle that, cowboy?”
“Yeah. I’ve got this.” He laughed and checked the list. “Uh, hey—my grandparents are throwing some kind of something on Friday. You should come.” He clenched his teeth. “Save me from the social butterflies—they tend to always have a lot of food, laughs, people, and dancing.”
“I figured you’d enjoy a hoppin’ party. You must’ve broken more hearts than a country song.” She’d meant it as a clever jest. A little poke to find out exactly what his dating history entailed.
Nope.
His jaw tightened and he shook his head. “I’m not that guy anymore.”
“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean—I was—” She was what? Jealous? Because she’d scraped away the scab on something much bigger than a shard of regret.
She was such an idiot.
“Hey—” Beth started.
He set down the to-do list. “I should get going.” His chair scraped the floor.
That was the first time I realized I couldn’t trust God.
“No, please.” Beth swallowed. “I didn’t mean that.”
He studied her, as if sorting out something in his mind, then leaned forward in the chair. Rubbed his hands over his face. “It’s true—just like I said, I didn’t need or want people close to me.”
“There must have been someone.”
He looked away. Nodded. “Yeah. A woman from Redmond named Harper Pennington.”
Beth wanted to know but didn’t want to know. She waited, uncertain if he’d continue.
Finally, he rubbed his hands on his jeans, opened his mouth. Closed it.
“We dated for a little while. It was the first relationship that had lasted more than a few dances and games of pool. I liked her—I mean, really liked her—but how does a guy like me give a girl anything to rely on?”
“You seem pretty reliable.”
“I mean, um, personal stuff. But I wasn’t ready to step into that and she was. I broke things off with her.” Grayson’s jaw flexed. “She was upset. Wrecked her car a few miles out after tearing out of the ranch driveway.”
“Oh no.”
He looked up at her, devastation on his face. “She…died.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Six years have passed and I still…”
