Rescued Love (Sweetwater Valley #7)

CHAPTER 6

NATHAN

My grandpa is glaring at me from the other side of the kitchen table, the same one where I enjoyed dinner when I was visiting him in my childhood. Those memories give me a warm fuzzy feeling, but the way he’s looking at me right now is far from warm.

Or fuzzy.

I swear he’s thinking about all the places he could hide my body on his property.

The look on his face is disconcerting since I would never have seen him as a violent man or one to harm another person, but right now he’s considering it. It’s written all over the scowl on his face.

And he’s not wrong to be thinking about it.

I can only hope he won’t toss me to Salt instead of getting his hands dirty. The alpaca will happily do Grandpa’s violent bidding.

As I started to confess about Kimball showing up a few days ago and the conversation I had with her, I realized how horrible it sounded. Every word out of my mouth made me realize the level of asshole I was with her. It was off the charts.

Shame and regret are sitting in my gut. It’s a heavy feeling and one I don’t like at all. I’m not sure when I became this guy. Was it before I started my internship at the firm? Was it after?

There was a time when I believed in the inherent good within humanity. There was a time when I wasn’t so jaded. I miss being that way, even if it was na?ve.

I can’t go back in time and make different choices, and I don’t know if I would want to, not really. But I do wish I had retained some of who I used to be.

“So,” Grandpa starts with a slight growl in his voice I’ve never heard before, “let me get this straight. That wonderful girl, the same one who bends over backward to make sure I have everything I need to take care of the animals here, came out to see me and you didn’t think to mention it for days?”

I open my mouth to respond, but the look he shoots me has my jaw shutting. Quickly. And so hard that my teeth click together.

“Not only did you not tell me about her visit, which is so rude and thoughtless I can almost feel your grandma rolling over in her grave,” his words have a bite to them which cause me to wince as my shoulders slump. “But you were rude to her and accused her of horrible things that would never even occur to someone like Kimball.”

“I didn’t know who she was,” I weakly try to defend myself.

I don’t have a leg to stand on at all. I know it. He knows it.

“Let me tell you who Kimball is,” Grandpa grits out through his teeth. “She’s someone who has adapted her plans and dreams from being a vet, which is what she grew up wanting to be, to devoting her life to animals in a different way, one which she could achieve. She does that at the rescue, but not just there. She comes out here to check on the animals, yes, but not in a malicious way.”

“I didn’t know that,” I interject with a whisper. “I thought she might be coming out to give you some sort of citation or to spy on you before getting you shut down.”

Now, to my ears, after hearing people talk about Kimball, I realize how ridiculous I was by thinking badly about her.

But I didn’t know.

And all I could see was Grandpa being taken advantage of in the same way Culbert took advantage of people. It was my own bias. I know it, but that didn’t stop me.

“Kimball would never do that,” he insists. “If she even got wind of someone coming down on me, she would put a stop to it. Hell,” he grunts, “she’s gotten Sheriff Wilder on my side, not that he wasn’t before. But she’s roped him into coming out and helping more than once. She wouldn’t stand for anyone trying to shut me down or fine me or anything.”

“Fuck,” I mutter softly, but it’s loud enough for him to hear.

The grave nod he gives me tells me exactly how badly I’ve fucked up. “You treated her like a criminal,” he sneers at me.

It makes me feel even worse, which I didn’t even realize was possible.

I was already regretting my actions the last few days. Honestly, she didn’t even make it off the property before I was second guessing myself and wondering if I had fucked up. Now, I know I did.

“If she’s everything you say she is,” he gives me a pointed look which screams ‘of course she is’ and I swallow hard, “then I owe her an apology.”

“You owe her more than an apology,” he grumbles.

“What do you mean?”

“You owe her flowers. Maybe a meal of some sort. Definitely something sweet since women like that sort of thing normally. And a sincere apology.”

“Of course my apology would be sincere,” I insist.

The way Grandpa is looking at me, it’s clear he’s not sure that me telling Kimball I’m sorry would be anything more than hot air and words. I know it would be because now that I’ve gotten information about her and Grandpa’s assured me she only has the best interest of the animals at heart, I feel badly for making assumptions about her.

Didn’t I learn a long time ago that assumptions are never good?

When I started my internship, I helped on a case where someone was being wrongly accused of a crime. I walked into every meeting, in the beginning, with a chip on my shoulder thinking I was so much better than the person we were defending. I thought for sure he was guilty.

He wasn’t.

Nigel was the one who set me straight on the whole thing. It was a case of our client being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was just trying to help someone he saw in need, but instead of being listened to, he was railroaded. The whole case was a shit show from start to finish.

When Nigel informed me he took on the case pro bono because he couldn’t stand on the sidelines and not do anything, it sunk in just how biased I was when it came to criminal defense.

I changed my attitude and strove to do better. I no longer assumed from the start that the person I was defending did the crime they were accused of. I walked, talked, and believed in ‘innocent until proven guilty’.

At least until Culbert.

His crimes hit too close to home and forced me to look in the mirror in a new way. I no longer liked what I was seeing in my reflection. Hell, I no longer recognized myself.

I don’t know what Grandpa was seeing on my face, but his eyes softened along with his voice, “You never told me what brought you here, Nathan.”

“I told you,” my tone is defensive as fuck.

And we both know it.

“No, you skirted around the truth,” he points out, correctly. Amusement fills his voice when he goes on to tease me, “It was very lawyerly of you.”

I scoff but take no offense to his words. He’s not wrong.

I never understood the shit that lawyers get or the way a lot of people hate those in my profession. Then I became a lawyer and spent time around other lawyers. I understand a little better now.

I see people at their worst and aren’t always able to deliver the news they want. Even though there are laws in place and we’re trying to uphold them, no matter what law is being practiced, humanity and interpretation is a huge factor that is unpredictable.

I suppose that can be the beauty in the whole system. It can also be a source of heartbreak and frustration.

Grandpa doesn’t let up on his stare and the intensity of it tells me he’s not letting me skirt around this any longer. I’m not even entirely sure why I didn’t tell him everything when I arrived.

I guess I didn’t want him to feel any guilt since it’s his face I was seeing in everyone Culbert took advantage of.

"Even though it was a hard lesson at first, I did learn not to judge the clients who come to the firm. They’re there for our help and criminal defense is a necessary part of the justice system,” I start to explain.

“I’m sure that can’t always be easy,” Grandpa hums. “I’m sure a lot of people who come to the firm are guilty as hell.”

I shrug one shoulder, not wanting to really think about the truth in his words. “They might be, but it’s not my job to decide whether they’re guilty or not. It’s my job to defend them and not allow the prosecutor to pervert the law. There’s an important balance in the system.”

Grandpa nods solemnly as he studies me and takes in my words. “What changed?”

I should have known he’d see right through me. I almost laugh, but thinking about Culbert’s victims has the sound dying in my throat. “The case I was working on,” I explain, my voice hesitant, “involved someone accused of taking advantage of older people using a pyramid scheme.”

“He Bernie Madoff-ed them,” he questions before adding on, “allegedly.”

I give my grandpa a sad smile and nod slowly. “I’m not supposed to assume guilt or innocence on a personal level. I’m there to mount a defense.”

“But you couldn’t do it,” he surmises.

“Not effectively,” I admit, “not when the client basically admitted to being guilty without saying it outright. All I could think about was someone taking advantage of you in the same way. It pissed me off and it was negatively impacting my work.” I scrub a hand down my face, hating to admit this while also being glad to not be talking about Kimball anymore. “Unfortunately, the person working on the case with me is also my biggest rival. I’m sure he’s loving how I got pulled and given time off and he’s lead on the case now.”

“This rival of yours,” Grandpa muses, “he doesn’t have the same conscience issue you were having; I take it.”

I snort out a laugh, but it sounds unamused, even to my ears. “Hell no. He’s devious and cutthroat. We’ve been competing against each other since law school. Our feelings toward each other are entirely mutual.”

Grandpa chuckles softly and shakes his head. “There’s always that one person who both pisses you off and pushes you to do better.” He tilts his head to the side and studies me. Something about his gaze makes me feel like a kid again even though I’m a grown ass man. “I remember when your parents told me about you graduating college and going to law school,” there’s a wistfulness in his voice that has me wincing—mostly because I wasn’t the one to tell him about my plans when I should have been.

I’ve been an asshole for a lot longer than the internship.

“When they mentioned criminal defense, it surprised me,” he prods me gently.

“I think my competitive drive got the better of me,” I admit. “I’m not even sure how it happened. Law school was like one giant competition. We knew we were competing for jobs from the moment we were accepted. I let it go to my head and I wanted to be on top of the heap when all was said and done.”

He nods as he watches me for a moment before letting out a long sigh. “Nathan, you have to apologize to Kimball. She didn’t deserve your misplaced worry about me. She’s not like the people you’ve been defending. Honestly, considering the strings she’s pulled and the favors she’s done for my animals proves how she’s put herself out there because of her love for animals. It’s just who she is.”

“Yeah,” my voice cracks a little and I clear my throat to try and get my emotions under control. I learned a long time ago to get that shit under wraps because you can’t show weakness to those around you; you’ll be eaten alive. “I’ll track her down and apologize. It’s the least I can do.”

“Track her down?” Grandpa snorts. When I shoot him a curious look he rolls his eyes. “She’s not hard to find. There are only a few places Kimball could be and the first place I would look is the shelter.”

For some reason, my chest aches at the same time that it fills with warmth because of Grandpa’s words. I really did her a disservice by judging her without knowing a damn thing about her. It was fucked up and I wish I could change it now.

I can’t, but I’ll try and make it right. If she’ll let me.

“I’ll go by the shelter tomorrow,” I assure him as I glance at the clock, “since I’m sure they’re closed now.”

“She might still be there,” Grandpa’s eyes are dancing with amusement. “But I do think it’ll be better if you wait until the light of day.” There’s a beat of silence between us before he asks, “Did I hear that you’re meeting the boys at The Goose tonight?”

“I am. Dixon kept talking about the burgers and they invited me to get a drink.”

“It’ll be good for you. It can’t be fun to be cooped up with an old man like me for your entire vacation. You should get out and see more of the town.”

“You’re not an old man,” I admonish him, hating him thinking that I want to be anywhere other than with him.

“I am,” he chuckles, “but I’m supposed to be. I’ve lived a long, happy life, Nathan. I earned every year under my belt.” He points a finger at me in a way which could be menacing if he weren’t grinning from ear to ear. “You’re young. You need to take advantage of it while you can.”

“I’m not that young,” I shoot back at him.

The sound of his guffaw filling the room has me smiling. I know he’s been lonely out here, and I don’t blame him for it. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love the way Grandpa and Grandma loved each other. Then for him to lose her?

That is a pain I don’t want to imagine.

I wouldn’t mind having someone in my life like he had though. Someone to lean on when the days are long and rough. Someone to hold and soothe when needed. Someone to walk this life beside and find strength with while also feeling safe to be more than what the outside world sees.

Yeah, I wouldn’t mind it at all.

Kimball’s face flashes in my mind and the ache in my chest intensifies. She’s exactly the kind of woman I could see myself with. But I don’t think it would work out with her; there are too many hurdles in our way now.

First, I was a giant dick to her. Even after I offer her my apologies, she might not accept them. I wouldn’t blame her for it either.

Then there’s how I don’t live in Sweetwater Valley. Considering how tied to this place Kimball is, I can’t envision her uprooting her life and leaving. Because it wouldn’t just be leaving the town. It would be turning her back on the animals she’s given so much time and effort to.

You could stay and build a life here instead of going back to the city.

The thought surprises me so much I jolt backwards a little bit and almost trip over my own feet. Where the hell did that thought come from?

I couldn’t leave everything behind that I’ve been building and move to Sweetwater Valley. Right?

Some of the worry and anxiety loosens in my chest, a feeling I haven’t experienced in a long fucking time.

I shake off my thoughts just in time for Grandpa to toss the keys to his truck at me. I catch them and give him an incredulous look.

“I wasn’t ready.”

Grandpa’s eyes glint and he shrugs. “You looked lost in thought for a moment.” With a dismissive wave of his hand he adds, “I didn’t want you to hurt yourself over there.”

I purse my lips, but don’t say what I’m thinking.

Telling Grandpa to fuck off, when he’s the man I’ve always respected the most in my life, would probably be a bad idea.

I simply give a small wave and head out the door. As I start up the truck, I do a quick search to find directions to The Goose and then I’m off.

Honestly, I was surprised when Ansel and Dixon asked me to join them tonight. It’s clear they’ve been friends for a long time, and I was a little jealous of the ease between them. I used to have a best friend like that, but then we went to different colleges, and we lost touch.

Maybe we weren’t that close if it was so easy to do. I’ve thought about tracking him down on social media throughout the years, but then life would speed up again and I’d allow it to take me away.

The longer it’s been, the more it feels like the chasm between us, between the friends we used to be, and now just gets bigger.

I’m friendly with people I work with, but I wouldn’t call any of them friends, especially Marcus. Fuck that guy.

I let out a small snort of laughter as I pull into The Goose. It’s busy, not like I was expecting anything less for a Saturday night. From what Dixon said, this is the place to be for a drink and some good food.

I teased him a little bit about wanting to go to the place where he works when he’s off, but he just shrugged and flashed me a smile before drawling, “Not many other places to pick up a woman.”

I couldn’t blame him for that.

Fuck.

How long has it been since I’ve gone out and picked up a woman?

I really have let my job rule my life. The fact that I’ve missed that for so long is both sad and disconcerting. I should have realized it a long fucking time ago.

The memory of Kimball’s curves and the way she filled out her jeans comes to mind, unbidden. Yeah, it’s been far too fucking long. Even as pissed as I was, I wanted her.

I doubt she’d be interested in me after I was such an ass to her, but it doesn’t hurt to fantasize a little.

When I step inside, I take in the large room and bar in one swoop. It’s rustic and industrial, but it’s clean and a lot nicer than I was expecting. As I take the room in again, looking for Dixon and Ansel this time, I find them quickly. They’re sitting at a table with a guy who has his armed draped around the shoulder of a woman with auburn hair.

But that’s not who holds my attention.

Not even a little bit.

My entire body goes on high alert as my vision fills with Kimball, her brown hair swirling around her head as she throws her head back and laughs. Jealousy has my heart pumping harder in my chest just to help my hardening cock along when just seeing her is more than enough.

I wasn’t prepared to see her, not now, not tonight. I’m not prepared to see her next to another man.

Which just makes me an even bigger asshole.

At least it’ll be easy to apologize to her now.

Ansel notices as I start to head their way and shouts, “Hey, man.”

My heart sinks when Kimball’s head whips around and the light in her brown eyes dim. I want to see that sparkle; I want it to be there because of me.

I’m totally fucked.