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No wonder she had dreamed of trips abroad, places far from Lewiston and the endless Montana prairie.
“Grandpa, are you hungry? I can fix you something to eat.”
Blinking, he turned his watery blue eyes toward her. “I’m going to miss that girl.”
“I know.” Paige sat on the arm of the couch next to him and took his hand, his fingers gnarled and callused from hard work. Given his age, she wondered if he’d be up to raising Bryan on his own now without Krissy around to help out. Or perhaps he’d been doing exactly that since Grandma Lisbeth passed on.
“She could be a wild one, I’ll grant you, but she never hurt anybody,” Grandpa said. “Me and Grandma kept thinking having a baby would settle her some. Never did happen.” He wiped the back of his age-spotted hand across his mouth. “Still, she had a good heart.”
“I know she loved living here with you and Grandma.” Her grandparents’ unconditional love had given Krissy the freedom to be herself, unlike the strict regimen imposed by their workaholic parents.
But Paige had thought by the age of twenty-seven Krissy should have become a responsible adult.
Five years older than Krissy, Paige wondered if she had paid more attention to her younger sister she might have grown up better. Might have understood how to live within the restraints their parents had demanded. But by the time Paige was ten, she was helping out at the hardware store after school and weekends. At the same time, five-year-old Krissy had hated the store, hated that Mom and Dad had spent so much time there instead of catering to her demands for attention. If only Krissy had tried to think of someone besides herself.
A rush of regret assailed Paige, and she shook the thought aside. No point in dwelling on the past, as her mother would say.
“There’s some leftover roast beef from last night. I could make you a sandwich. We’ve got more macaroni and potato salads in the fridge than we could possibly eat in a lifetime.”
“You go ahead and eat something. I just don’t have an appetite, child.”
Paige found it endearing that Grandpa still called her a child when she’d reached the ripe old age of thirty-two. “How about coffee and a cookie or two? We ended up with plenty of those, too.”
He patted her hand. “Guess I could handle that.”
“It’ll just take me a minute.” She kissed the top of his head.
The kitchen had been updated about ten years ago with granite counters, extra-deep sinks and a double-door refrigerator. The six-burner stove ran on propane and had an oven big enough to roast two turkeys side by side. Grandma Lisbeth had loved to cook for a crowd, including the hired hands they put to work during the summer months.
The kitchen, with its long butcher block table that could seat ten and walls of walnut cabinets, was about as big as Paige’s whole condo. Which, since cooking and entertaining at home weren’t on her list of talents, was perfectly fine with her.
She was preparing a pot of coffee when Bryan strolled into the kitchen, letting the screen door bang shut behind him.
Paige flinched, nearly dumping coffee grounds all over the counter. She recalled there was a locked gun cabinet in the mudroom filled with rifles and shotguns. She’d never gone near those guns and hoped to goodness Grandpa was careful to keep it locked when Bryan was around.
“Jay said you were fixing something to eat.” The boy was nearly as tall as Paige and whip-thin. His blond hair and delicate features made him resemble Krissy. She’d never revealed who Bryan’s father was—maybe she didn’t know—so there was no way to tell what genes the man had contributed to the boy’s appearance.
“Grandpa isn’t hungry, but I can fix you a roast beef sandwich, and there are lots of salads crammed in the refrigerator.”
“The same stuff they had at the church?”
“Yes. The ladies were very nice to let us bring the leftovers home.”
He made a gagging noise. “I’ll fix my own sandwich.”
“Up to you. Don’t you want to wash your hands first?”
He shot her a startled look. “They aren’t dirty.”
“You’ve been out there with the horses, haven’t you?”
“Sure, but that’s no big deal.” He dragged the plate of sliced roast beef from the refrigerator and plopped it on the counter.
Her career in the hospitality business, particularly at an Elite Hotel property in Seattle, had taught her cleanliness was crucial not only for the health of the staff and guests, but for the hotel’s reputation as well.
“Bryan, please. Wash your hands before touching the food.” Who knew what he might have picked up in the barn or stable?
“Mom always said a few germs won’t hurt anybody,” he grumbled. He turned on the faucet in the sink, waved his hands under the water and turned it off. “You happy now?”
Not even close. But Paige wasn’t Bryan’s mother. She needed to give him a break. The poor kid was hurting and likely looking for someone to rail against.
Assuming he had won the battle, Bryan rubbed his hands on his jeans, which looked like he’d worn them to roll around in the dirt. Paige squeezed her eyes shut. Leave him be. You’re not his mother.
Jay chose that moment to saunter in the back door, all long legs and lean body, his old tan-colored cowboy hat perched on the back of his head. He tossed his hat on a peg in the mudroom, then walked into the kitchen. A ring of sweat made his dark hair glisten where his hat had rested.
“What are you doing, kid?” he asked.
“Fixing myself a sandwich.” Bryan found a loaf of bread in the bread box, a jar of mayonnaise in the refrigerator and put them on the counter beside the plate of meat.
“Don’t go messing with that stuff until you wash up,” Jay said.
“I did. She saw me.” He cocked his head toward Paige.
“Let me see.” Jay took one of the boy’s hands, turning it palm up. “Yeah, right. I’ve seen cowboys spit and get their hands cleaner than that. Go use some soap in the bathroom.”
“Aw, come on. I’m hungry.”
“You won’t starve.” He turned the boy by his shoulders, shoving him gently toward the half bathroom that was just inside the back door.
Bryan stomped away, his boots heavy on the hardwood floor, and slammed the bathroom door.
Paige winced. “I was going to give him a pass on his dirty hands. I know he’s upset—”
“He’s a kid. He needs to be told what to do.”
“I thought this one time, he said his mother never—”
“Krissy probably didn’t. She wasn’t much for discipline.” He helped himself to a couple slices of bread and a big chunk of meat.
“And you think it’s okay for you to discipline him?”
He slathered mayonnaise on the bread. “Sure. Kids are like horses. They have to learn who’s boss. They’re happier if they know the rules.”
Paige didn’t like the idea of Jay comparing her nephew to a horse. Granted, the boy smelled like one. But he was still a child, not a horse to be broken of his bad habits.
Bryan returned to the kitchen, sullen but with clean hands.
“Get a couple plates down,” Jay ordered, his tone easy and casual. “You can have this sandwich and I’ll make another one for myself. Pour us both some milk, would you?”
Without balking, Bryan did as he was told.
Still holding the can of ground coffee, Paige looked on with amazement and a fair amount of admiration. Bryan appeared quite content to follow Jay’s orders. Clearly Jay knew more about raising boys than she had ever hoped to learn. Her focus on her career, and her ambition to move up to a position of manager of one of Elite Hotel’s European properties didn’t leave room for marriage or raising a family. Maybe someday, of course. But not in the foreseeable future.
So far no man had made an effort to tempt her to change her mind.
She watched as they sat down together to eat their sandwiches, then remembered Grandpa and the snack she’d promised him. Hurriedly, she got the coffee going and found a plate for the home-baked cookies.
She was just pouring his mug of coffee when Grandpa came into the kitchen.
“Since everybody is here, guess it’s time we all had a talk.” He sat at the head of the table and placed a large manila envelope beside him.
Paige delivered his coffee and cookies.
“Sit down here, child.” Grandpa indicated the seat next to him. “It’s important you hear what I got to say.” He glanced down the table. “You, too, boy. Pay attention now.”
An uneasy feeling raised the hair on her nape as Paige slipped onto the chair. Grandpa sounded so serious; something monumental must be on his mind. Could his health be failing? He seemed especially tired and stooped, which wasn’t like the grandpa she knew. Maybe he was going to sell the outfitting business and retire?
“Now then, we all know that Krissy could be reckless sometimes, but she did do some planning ahead. I’ll give her credit for that. ’Course, I did prod her a bit.” Clearing his throat, he pulled some papers from the envelope. “Your ma loved you, Bryan. Don’t you ever forget that.”
The boy poked his finger into his sandwich, making a hole in the soft bread.
“After your parents passed on a few years ago, Paige, I sat Krissy down to have a long talk about Bryan.”
The boy looked up. “What’d you say?”
“Hang on a minute, son. I’m getting to that.” His hand shook as he took a sip of coffee. “The point is she wanted to make sure Bryan was well taken care of if something should happen to her.”
A band tightened around Paige’s chest. Her little sister had actually worried about what would happen to her son if she had died prematurely. Grandpa must have been very persuasive. A swell of love for him and her sister filled her chest.
“She made arrangements for Bryan?” she asked.
“Yep.” Grandpa nodded and patted the papers he’d pulled out of the envelope. “She wrote out sort of a will, not that she had much money to leave to anyone. But she had her son. If worse came to worst, she wanted to be the one to name the person who’d raise her son. Be his guardian.”
Paige’s breath lodged in her throat. Maybe Krissy had finally named the boy’s father and wanted him to care for his son. Take responsibility at long last.
Grandpa shoved the papers toward Paige. “Krissy wanted you to raise him, child. Raise him like he was your own.”
Paige’s mouth opened. Not a sound came out. She’d been named Bryan’s guardian?
Why in the world—
She’d always assumed Grandpa would be there if anything—
She couldn’t possibly—
Looking to the other end of the table, she realized Jay and Bryan were as shocked as she was. Both of them struck dumb.
As if the words Grandpa had spoken had finally registered, Bryan’s eyes widened. His face turned red. He leaped to his feet.
“I don’t want her to be my guardian!” he screamed. “I want my mom!” Knocking over his chair, Bryan raced from the room and out the back door.
Stunned, Paige sent up a heartfelt prayer. Please, Lord, what am I supposed to do now?
Chapter Two
Paige pushed back her chair. “I’d better go after him.”
“No, I’ll go.” Jay stood, yanking Bryan’s chair upright again. His brows and mouth drew into a disapproving scowl. “You and Henry need to talk.” Grabbing his hat on the way, Jay went out the back door. The screen slammed behind him.
She exhaled. Someone really needed to fix that door.
Turning to her grandfather, Paige shook her head. “Why on earth did Krissy want me to raise her son? She and I have never been close. I hardly know Bryan, or even his likes and dislikes. It seems to me you should be Bryan’s guardian. You and Grandma took care of him from the time he was born.” More so than Krissy ever had, Paige suspected.
“Me and Krissy talked a lot about what to do if something happened to her. Since your folks were gone, we are the only blood relatives around.”
Paige had been stunned when her parents had sold the hardware store and moved to Arizona. Competition from big-box stores had finally driven them out of business. It turned out that decision, followed by a high-speed car crash, had been a fatal one.
“Thing is, I’m getting old,” Grandpa continued. “I don’t have many years left. We both figured I might not be around long enough to see the boy through to being a man.”
Her heart lurched. “Are you ill?”
“No, child, not that I know about anyway. And the truth is, Krissy loved you more than you might’ve realized.” He took her hand, and she felt him tremble.
“I love...loved Krissy, too, Grandpa. We’re sisters.” An ache rose in her chest. “But I didn’t really know her. How could I? We haven’t lived under the same roof for more than a dozen years.”
“I know this isn’t something you expected. ’Course, Krissy didn’t exactly expect to die young either, I don’t suppose. But she was clear about her wishes. I told her she ought to talk to you. See if raising her boy the rest of the way would be all right with you.”
“That would have at least given me some warning.” Talk about being blindsided. This was as bad as a thousand good ol’ boys in funny hats showing up at the hotel registration desk for a Shriners’ convention that wasn’t on her calendar.
If Krissy had asked, Paige would have told her right off that she wasn’t prepared to be any child’s parent. Certainly not a boy on the cusp of adolescence.
“I reckon she was afraid you’d say no,” Grandpa said.
“I would have, Grandpa.” That admission brought the heat of guilt to her cheeks. What kind of a rotten aunt did that make her? “What do I know about raising a boy? A boy who’s about to be a teenager? I can’t even imagine how I’d manage. And he sure wasn’t keen on the idea. You saw that.”
He sipped his coffee, then took a bite of a chocolate-chip cookie. “He’ll adjust to the idea, given enough time.”
“The way he acted, we’ll both be old and decrepit before he’s thrilled with the idea of me being his guardian. I’m practically a stranger to him.” Granted, she should have tried harder to get to know him. But given her life, her goals, she’d have to make huge adjustments in order to do a decent job of raising him. And Bryan would have to leave everything and everyone who was familiar to him. What in the world had Krissy been thinking?
“In those papers I gave you, there’s a letter from Krissy. There’s probably no law that says you have to take on the boy. But maybe there’s something in there that’ll make you change your mind.”
Paige sincerely doubted it. But could she actually walk away from her responsibility to Bryan, her only nephew, however ill-advised Krissy’s wishes might be?
* * *
Finding Bryan right where he’d expected, Jay leaned over the railing of Bright Star’s stall. A palomino gelding with a blaze on his forehead, the horse had been Bryan’s personal mount and his responsibility since the boy’s ninth birthday.
Archie, a border collie mix that hung around the stable, rested her nose on Bryan’s thigh as though she sensed the boy’s distress and wanted to help. Oddly enough, when the dog had shown up a year or so ago, Bryan had started calling her Archie before he realized the dog was a girl. The name had stuck.
