Rescued Love (Sweetwater Valley #7)

CHAPTER 5

NATHAN

As I drink a cup of coffee and finish the eggs I scrambled for Grandpa and me, I hear the sound of a vehicle approaching. It puts me on edge immediately because since Kimball was here a few days ago, no one else has been by. But I’ve been waiting for her or the sheriff to show up.

Why else did she come by other than to find some reason to shut Grandpa down?

The only thing I could hope was that she figured out I wasn’t going to let it happen. But I wasn’t going to assume she’d give up.

I didn’t bring up Kimball’s visit to Grandpa because I didn’t want to upset him. Since there’s no way I’d allow anyone to get in the way of the good work he does, I figured he didn’t need to worry about the possibility unnecessarily.

“That’s probably one of the boys,” Grandpa mutters before getting up from the table and heading toward the front door with a smile on his face.

“The boys?”

I follow behind him closely and am surprised when two guys climb out of the truck that has pulled up in front of the house. They’re grinning at each other and it’s not hard to see that they’re good friends with the joking vibe they’re giving off.

“Yeah,” Grandpa glances at me as he answers my question and grabs the door handle, “come on out and I’ll introduce you.”

I want to ask so many more questions, but he’s already out the door and heading down the porch steps before I get the chance. The guys turn when they hear him and greet him with big smiles and waves. I grip my mug a little tighter as I head outside.

“Nathan,” Grandpa calls out to me as I approach. “This is Ansel and Dixon. Ansel is a paramedic, and Dixon works at The Goose. They come out as often as they can to help me around here. They’re good boys.”

I give the guys a nod in greeting, and I swear they both blush a little with my grandpa’s praise. Considering they’ve gotten the okay from him, a bit of the tension I’m holding ebbs, and my shoulders relax.

“Nice to meet you both.” My curiosity gets the better of me and I ask, “How often do you come out and help Grandpa?”

Ansel flashes a smile toward Grandpa before turning back to me. “It’s good to meet you, man.” He nods toward Dixon and shares, “We come out as often as we can. My schedule can be a little wild, but I try to get out at least once a week. Dixon works mostly nights at The Goose, but we try and come together since it makes the work go faster when there’s two of us.”

I look between both guys and Grandpa before asking, “What’s The Goose?”

“It’s a restaurant and bar in town,” Grandpa informs me.

“We have the best burgers in the state,” Dixon quips. He shares a look with Ansel and adds on, “Just ask the boss man, Maverick.”

Ansel rolls his eyes and leans closer to me slightly like he’s telling me a secret, “Maverick does love to say it like it is the God’s honest truth.”

I make a humming sound before offering, “Thanks for helping out.”

Dixon chuckles and shrugs like it’s no big deal. “We like coming out to give a hand. The animals are cool, except for Salt. That alpaca hates me.”

I bark out a laugh. “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” I admit. “I’m almost afraid to go to sleep because I’m positive Salt is trying to figure out how to reach me in the house.”

“Salt couldn’t hurt a fly,” Grandpa insists.

It’s the same thing he’s said since the moment I expressed my fear about Salt being out to get me. I don’t believe it at all. All the animals love Grandpa, but that doesn’t mean they love everyone. The memory of how Kimball eyed Penny like she was expecting the bird to take her to the ground at any moment.

Fuck.

“You keep saying that, Mr. Jacobson, but I’m not so sure,” Dixon teases Grandpa.

We share a look that says just what we both think about his assertion. Yeah, Grandpa is blowing smoke up our asses.

Ansel asks, “What do you need us to do today, Mr. Jacobson?”

Grandpa sighs and shakes his head slightly. “How many times have I told you to call me Calvin?”

“No can do,” Ansel argues. “My mom would have my ass,” his tone is laced with amusement, but there’s an edge of seriousness as well.

“I’m going to put my mug down and then I’ll help you guys with whatever Grandpa has in store for us today,” I let everyone know before heading back inside.

Ansel and Dixon showing up has me wondering if they’re the only people from town who come out to help. My gut sinks when I consider that maybe Kimball was telling the truth.

She told me she was there to help, but I would barely let her get a word in as I hurled accusations her way.

What if I was wrong?

Fuck.

After heading inside, rinsing out my mug, and slipping on a better pair of shoes, I join the guys as they give Grandpa a quick wave and head toward the barn. I made sure the animals were fed this morning, a twinge in my back reminding me of the work I’ve already put in.

“The animals were fed this morning before I let them out of the barn,” I let Ansel and Dixon know, which has them shooting me a grin.

“Great,” Ansel’s voice is chipper, “that means Salt can’t eye me like I’m lunch.”

I bark out a laugh and nod. “No, only I got to experience that this morning.” I shiver slightly remembering how Salt stepped closer to me and made a sound I know was meant to intimidate. It worked. “Salt was definitely threatening me this morning. I’m tempted to lock my door at night,” I admit, my tone joking even though I’m partially serious.

“I’m not sure she’ll be able to get in the house,” Dixon teases me.

“Wouldn’t put it past her,” I grumble as we start mucking out the stalls.

The longer we work together, the nicer it is to have someone working next to me to get things done quicker. This kind of work is something I’m not used to, but it’s become second nature in the days since I arrived at Grandpa’s sanctuary.

The man is tight lipped about the legality of the whole thing, even though I’ve tried to get him to open up about it. I’ve asked if he’s applied for permits or if I can help him with legal paperwork to get registered or something.

Admittedly, I didn’t ask about it until after meeting Kimball. The thought of anyone taking this away from Grandpa has my blood icing over. I’ve seen the man smile in the last few days, but I can still see the sadness in his eyes over losing Grandma.

I can imagine the sadness would be so much worse if he didn’t have the animals to keep him occupied.

Knowing he’s been out here doing all this work by himself has me feeling guilty as fuck. Even though my trip back to the city isn’t set in stone, the thought of leaving him to continue this work and leaving him out here by himself leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

But is there another option?

“Mr. Jacobson said there were some fences that needed to be mended as well,” Ansel mentions, and I snap my head toward him.

My voice is tinged with apprehension, “Which pen?”

His laughter echoes around us in the barn before assuring me, “He knows Salt has it out for us even though he tries to deny it. It’s on the fence line where Mr. Whiskers hangs out.”

I breathe a sigh of relief and watch as Ansel and Dixon move with ease as they collect everything that we need to get the job done since the stalls are done. It’s clear they’ve been out here a lot; I’m curious how much.

“I’m not trying to sound ungrateful,” I start, and the guys share a look before giving me their full attention, “but why do you come out here and help out?”

“Mr. Jacobson needs it,” Ansel tells me simply, but his explanation is a little thin.

Dixon rolls his eyes and gives his friend a friendly shove. “Really? We didn’t always come out here, but one of Ansel’s friends, Kimball, started to drop hints about Mr. Jacobson needing some extra hands. We knew he probably wouldn’t ask for it.”

The mention of Kimball’s name has my back straightening, and it doesn’t go unnoticed, even though neither mention it. “He wouldn’t,” I agree, “I think it’s a pride thing.” My shoulders drop a little bit before I admit, “I had no idea he even had all these animals. That’s my fault, honestly, because I didn’t reach out as much as I should have. I got caught up in life and shit.”

“College?” There’s no judgement in Ansel’s question, only curiosity.

“And then law school,” I confirm with a nod. “Then life kind of snowballed. I started working at the criminal defense firm where I did my internship.” I shake my head and look away to take in my grandpa’s land as we head out to the pen where Mr. Whiskers is grazing in the distance, but I’m not really seeing any of it. No, I’m deep in my head and questioning when everything in my life fucking changed. “It wasn’t even the type of law I wanted to practice. I wanted to help people, maybe work for a nonprofit or something. I didn’t want to be in criminal law at all, but I had a knack for it and the internship was one of the most sought after, so I pursued it.”

I shake myself out of my thoughts and realize that I probably shared way too fucking much with two guys I don’t even know. When I glance at them, they aren’t looking at me like I’m the piece of shit I sometimes feel like because I defend people, some of them criminals who shouldn’t get off even though they do.

“Life can sometimes get away from you,” Ansel muses and I wonder what the story is there because there is clearly one.

Kimball swims through my mind and I wonder if his comment has anything to do with her. Jealousy races through my veins and almost takes me to my knees. The thought of him wanting her, of being with her, even though Dixon only referred to them as friends, has me seeing red.

It makes no fucking sense.

Dixon’s voice is filled with curiosity, “How long has it been since you’ve been back here to visit?”

“Fuck,” I groan, “The last time I was here, I wasn’t even in high school. It’s been a while,” I admit, defeat sitting heavy in the middle of my chest.

I failed my grandpa. The man who felt like he was larger than life when I was growing up. I’ve always looked up to my dad, but there was something about Grandpa that made me worship him in a whole other way. Maybe it was just as simple as his life seeming to be so different from my own.

The world around us when I was in his presence felt slower. Easier.

Now, looking back, I think that feeling had nothing to do with Grandpa and everything to do with coming here during the summer. I was allowed to take on a slower pace and didn’t have the same pressure being at home brought.

No matter the cause for how I felt, the time I spent here was like magic. It was a feeling I chased for a long time but was never able to recreate.

Then there was the way that Grandpa always focused so intently and solely on me when we were talking. He acted like there was no one else in the world more important to him than me when we spent time together. For a kid who felt like I was sometimes swept to the side in the busy pace of our family’s life at home, even though I know my parents never intended for me to feel that way, it was beyond special.

“You can’t change it, and we’ve had Mr. Jacobson’s back,” Ansel tries to assure me.

I know he means well with his words, but it feels like a punch to the gut. I should have had his back. I should have spared a little time, even if it was just a phone call. I got caught up in my own bullshit and forgot what is important.

I send Ansel a chin lift in acknowledgement. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I ask, “Do a lot of other people come out and help?”

Ansel grins and stands up, stretching out his back with a groan. “I swear my back should not ache like this,” he mutters. Dixon and I snicker. Honestly, my body has been protesting the increase strain over the last few days. He brushes off his pain and glances my way. “There are quite a few. I know some guys from the firehouse come out every now and again to help.”

“Yeah,” Dixon agrees, “especially when it’s time for the kids to come out for their tours.”

My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline because Grandpa never mentioned anything about kids coming out for tours. When Ansel sees my reaction, he chuckles and shakes his head.

“I’m not surprised Mr. Jacobson didn’t mention it. The man does not like to toot his own horn,” there’s a warmth in his voice that makes me glad Grandpa stayed in Sweetwater Valley. “The schools come out over a few weeks to learn about the animals. The older kids even do some work out here and help. The younger kids get to pet the animals and learn about a species they wouldn’t normally encounter since the closest zoo is a few hours away and it’s not a trip everyone can or does make.”

I glance over the house where I know Grandpa is resting as we gather up our supplies to move to another fence post and get everything secured. It’s clear from how quickly the guys are working that they’re used to doing this.

“That’s pretty awesome,” I admit, thinking about how going on field trips was always exciting when I was in school.

“Yeah. The school tries to pay him every year since they collect a small fee for the trip, part of which goes to pay for the extra bus use,” Ansel explains, “but he never accepts the money. He tells them to put it back into the school.”

“Sounds like Grandpa,” I admit, my heart soaring and sinking at the same time.

One thing we haven’t talked about is how he’s financially maintaining the care for the animals. I can’t imagine it’s cheap. That is part of the reason I was worried when Kimball showed up. What would happen if they found Grandpa lacking? What if they made him jump through hoops?

From the sounds of it, though, the sanctuary and Grandpa are beloved and respected.

Kimball’s beautiful face flashes in my mind and I wince internally. I’m almost afraid to ask about her specifically, but I also desperately want to know. I try to keep my voice even and aloof when I press, “And Kimball? How does she fit into all this? She runs the animal rescue, right?”

Ansel and Dixon exchange a look, one that is weighted, and I wonder if it’s because I haven’t kept the soul-deep interest in the woman out of my voice or if its because one of them is interested in her for themselves. That thought has my heart pounding in my chest as anger clouds reasonable thought.

“She does,” Ansel confirms. “Kimball is good people. She loves animals and lives to pair the right animal with the right owner. She gives her all to the rescue, which means sometimes she breaks her own heart.” He shakes his head sadly and looks away; my eyes follow him to find Mr. Whiskers fucking frolicking in the pasture. “Sometimes animals come in and they’re in bad shape. She wants to save them all.”

Fuck.

And I was a complete asshole to her?

Still, that doesn’t tell me much about her stance on Grandpa having the animals he does. But if she didn’t care, would she ever push people to come out and help? Something is screaming in my head that I judged her unfairly.

“She’s even brought animals out here for Mr. Jacobson to take in when it’s one that she knows can’t be placed elsewhere,” Ansel’s voice pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts about the dark-haired stunner. “There’s nothing Kimball wouldn’t do for an animal.”

Shame wraps around me at the memory of me hurling accusations at her. Hell, I was yelling while I did it.

She comes all the way out here to see my grandpa and is faced with an angry man she doesn’t even know. I bet I scared her, and the thought does not sit right with me at all.

As I glance at the house again and we work in silence for a few minutes, I know I’ll need to ask Grandpa about it. My job has taught me to be skeptical. Of people and their motives. Of the masks people wear.

These guys might be right about the woman who captured a bit of my soul with one look. But they could also be wrong.

I’m not willing to risk what keeps my grandpa going just yet.

“You should meet us at The Goose tonight,” Dixon breaks the silence, and I find myself grinning as I push the heavy thoughts about whether I fucked up to the side.

I quirk an eyebrow and challenge him, “Best burgers in the state?”

Dixon barks out a laugh before admitting, “They are pretty fucking good.”

Ansel’s voice drops conspiratorially, “The scenery isn’t half bad there either. Think of it as Sweetwater Valley’s watering hole.”

“Yeah,” I agree while shaking out my arms before bending down to pick up some of the tools we’ve hauled along with us now that the job is done and they need to be put away, “it’ll be good to get out and see a different side of the town I only vaguely remember from childhood.”

As I help get everything put away and the rest of the chores done with the guys, I know I’ll need to have a conversation with Grandpa before I go anywhere. I have no doubt he’ll want to know why I’m asking too, which means I’ll have to tell him about Kimball’s visit.

Either his chest will swell with pride because I defended him or he’s going to look at me with disappointment. The odd thing is—I’m not even sure which one I would prefer.