about buying the groceries and hoping he’d get the hint.
Dawson chuckled. “You know I take orders. I have a French toast bake I want to test on you all this weekend.” He started for the house and I walked next to him, my legs wooden and my mind spinning.
Inside, Dawson and I washed our hands in the mudroom while Gentry and Kendall set the table.
This morning had gone from pleasant excitement to coiled dread. I was going to have a meal with the villain of Pop’s life story. Anxiety wound around my gut, squeezing off the appetite I’d come here with.
“Hey,” Dawson said quietly. “It’ll be all right.”
“I know,” I replied automatically. This was Dawson’s house. His family. I would be civil. I doubt Gentry would give me a reason not to be.
But Gentry was going to help work my cattle? Did he have some morbid fascination with how bad it really had been for Pop? How broke I really was? Gentry and his kids had the best view of my shit show of a life. Pop and I had seemed reclusive and secretive, and I’d never shared the specifics, but I hadn’t needed to. Our life had been on display. Anyone could have extrapolated and figured out how we lived.
There was a knock on the mudroom door. Gentry leaned against the frame. He gave Dawson a little smile. “Mind if I have a word with Bristol?”
I tried to avoid confrontations, but when I found myself in one, I stood my ground. Yet right now, I wanted to run. Why did Gentry want to talk to me alone? To warn me off his son? To tell me I wasn’t worthy of any of his family? I couldn’t think of any other reason.
Dawson glanced at me first before he answered.
“It’s not a problem.” My voice came out raspy. Way to stand strong. It was easier to look like an uncaring bitch in the grocery store, where there were five aisles to disappear down and an exit.
Dawson gave my hand a squeeze and left.
I leaned against the sink and tried not to groan as water seeped into my backside. Because of course it did. “What’s up?”
“If being here is going to be a problem, I can go.” His voice was gentle, his small smile still in place. “Kendall and I can get a room in town.”
My mouth opened but nothing came out. I clenched it shut. Was he really offering to leave if I wanted him to? “I’m not staying here. You don’t have to go on account of me.”
Gentry’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “It seems as if Dawson would rather have you around than his dad stepping all over his business.”
Confusion swirled in my brain. The Kings had been the bane of our existence for so long. I was sleeping with Dawson. We’d practically double-dated with Aiden and Kate. And now Gentry was being nice. “What’s this all about? Why are you even offering? Why do you care?” The questions poured out and I couldn’t stop them. “And why do you want to help me work cattle? Nothing’s going to be a surprise. I’m dirt poor. The ranch is on the brink of collapsing. Pop drank every spare cent we had. What do you want to prove?”
I pressed shaky fingers to my forehead. God, had I just snapped at Gentry King? I hadn’t said more than a sentence to him in almost twenty years.
“Bristol, I don’t want to prove anything.” There was that gentle tone again. Like I was a green horse ready to buck. “I’m offering because it’s the neighborly thing to do, and I thought maybe you’d take me up on it when your dad never did.”
Pop never what? “You offered to help Pop? Was that before or after you called the police on him when he left The Tap after a bender?”
“To clarify, I called a friend of mine that was a deputy and asked him to make sure no one got hurt. My kids were out on those roads.” He shoved a hand into his jeans like he’d been busted stealing candy. “And also to be clear, Sarah made me offer—to help with the cattle, the fences, equipment repair. And I extended the offer most years because of her.” He blew out a breath. “And . . . because the more I got to know Sarah’s parents, the more I could see that your dad and I were dealing with the decisions of our parents. Your