I Cross My Heart

“One chapter.”

She tried to remember if she’d admitted any problems in Chapter One of Living with Grace or the earlier books. Maybe not. “Then you stopped reading?”

“Then I threw the book against the wall.”

She winced.

“Sorry, but you have to remember this was a book recommended by the woman who, with the help of her folks, was mentally torturing me. I could only take so much of the rainbows and lollipops you were handing out.”

“All things considered, you probably won’t ever make it through an entire book of mine, and I don’t blame you. But somewhere in Living with Grace, maybe toward the middle, I admit to having a temper, and you’ve just seen me demonstrate that.”

Nash glanced at the now-soggy recliner. “Pretty impressive, too. Those old recliners are heavy suckers. How long did it take you to drag it out here?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t keeping track of time. I drove into the yard, walked up the rickety porch steps, went inside, saw the state of things in there and…lost it.”

“You didn’t know it was this bad?”

She sighed, remembering all the should-haves she’d ignored in the past year and a half. “I suspected. My parents were never savvy about the ranching business and the Triple G operated in the red quite a bit. When I started making decent money, I sent checks home.” And she should have come herself. “Obviously the money wasn’t used to maintain the ranch.”

“Why didn’t your dad get some advice from his neighbors? I’m sure anyone at the Last Chance would have been glad to—”

“Not my dad’s style. He didn’t like to admit he was deficient in any area. That’s why he and my mom didn’t mingle. He didn’t feel equal to the other ranchers, so he kept to himself. Rejected any offer of help. I saw him do it several times. Eventually people stopped trying.”

“That’s sad.”

“Incredibly sad.” She glanced around her. “You see the result. After my mom died a year and a half ago, my dad started drinking a lot, apparently. Whenever I’d suggest coming home for a visit, he’d discourage me. To be honest, I wasn’t eager to be here without my mom. She was always the more positive influence. And my career was heating up, so…I used that as an excuse.”

“Understandable.”

She appreciated that one-word comment more than he’d ever know. Nash Bledsoe was a kind person, just as she’d decided when he hadn’t lectured her about burning the recliner. She probably didn’t have to worry about him blabbing about her circumstances, but it wouldn’t hurt to make sure.

She cleared her throat. “I’m not famous enough to have paparazzi following me around, but this would make a juicy story for somebody—Motivational Guru Let Father Die in Squalor. That kind of thing.”

“Are you worried that I’ll tell on you?”

“Not really, but after all, you have a personal grudge against me. I guess I couldn’t blame you for thinking about exposing my frailties to the general public.”

His blue gaze sharpened. “I’m not vindictive, Bethany.”

“I didn’t think so, but—”

“I’ll report to Emmett that I found you here burning trash, and after we talked, you decided to take your garbage to the landfill from now on. He doesn’t seem to know who you are. I’d be surprised if anyone in this area realizes that you’re nationally known in the motivational field. Cowboys don’t read those books all that much.”

“No need. They live a blessed life.” She smiled in gratitude. “Thanks, Nash.”

“So what are you going to do? I mean, besides destroying this recliner?”

“I have to sell the place. My life’s in Atlanta now. Keeping property in Jackson Hole makes no sense, except…”

“Except?”

“I worry about selling it as is. If the media somehow finds out my dad lived like this…But hiring somebody to fix it up is risky, too. Word could still get out.”

“So hire me.”

“You? You have a job.”

“True, but it’s only sunup to sundown. My nights are my own. My dad was a general contractor and I worked with him every summer during high school and college. And I could use the money.”

She couldn’t help laughing. “You can’t work on repairs in the dark.”

“Inside stuff I can, and for outside stuff, I can set up spotlights. It’s completely doable.”

“Will the folks at the Last Chance object to having you moonlight, literally?”

He shrugged. “Not if I tell them that we’re old schoolmates and you’re helping me financially by hiring me during my off-hours. They all know I’m saving up for my own place, and this will make perfect sense to them.”

She considered his offer. Although she didn’t really know him, all her instincts told her he was trustworthy. Besides, he worked for the Chances, who were known for their integrity. That was a recommendation in itself, and he’d certainly be a better bet than taking potluck with some stranger.

“There’s a lot to be done here.” She looked around. “It’s been neglected for several years. Are you sure you can manage by yourself?”

He nodded. “One thing I’m good at is working hard and fast. That didn’t mean much to Lindsay and her parents, but it’s my strength.”

“I’d want you to start with the outbuildings to give me a chance to clear out any personal things from the house.”

“That’s fine. How long are you here for?”

“A week. That should be enough time for me to sort through the stuff in the house. And I’ll be available if you have questions as you get started.”

“So it’s a deal?”

“It’s a deal. I’ll pay you well for this, Nash.”

He smiled. “I’m counting on it. So let’s see. Are your dad’s tools still here?”

“Oh, I’m sure they are. I can’t guarantee the condition of anything, but you’ll need to pick up some building materials, so you can replace any broken tools then.” Discussing the restoration of this place gave her a boost of energy.

“Okay, good. I figure tonight I’ll come over and mostly assess the situation and come up with an estimate. Maybe I’ll start on whatever doesn’t require new lumber and nails. I’ll give you a list you can call in to the Shoshone Feed Store. They carry building supplies, too. I’ll pick everything up.”

“Or I could.” She pointed to the SUV. “That can haul stuff.”

“Nah, don’t get that shiny rental all dirty. A truck’s better, anyway.” He glanced at the chair. “And please leave this right here. I’ll deal with it tonight.”

“You’re sure?”

“Part of the job. But if you want to buy some pots of flowers for the porch, that might be a nice touch.”

She felt a tug of nostalgia. “My mother always had flower pots there.”