wanted to do was mess her up with the therapy that was supposed to help her.
Ms. Halliwell might want to mess up everyone’s lives, but Tommy didn’t. His job wasn’t to hurt. All he’d been hired to do was gather information.
So, that’s what he would do. He had to stay impartial. He could do that.
He had to do that.
His grandmother depended on him.
Swiping the phone screen, Tommy dialed his grandmother’s number and stared up at the ceiling as he leaned back against the pillow again.
The phone rang once before his grandmother answered. “Hello?”
“Grams, it’s Tommy. How are you doing?” His throat constricted at the sound of her sweet vulnerable voice. She’d become the only family he had left. He couldn’t abandon her. No matter how unfair the things he’d been hired to do seemed to the targets.
“Oh, Tommy. I’m fine. That mean Mr. Stodges showed up here yesterday. He said I was going to be out on the street after Christmas and that if I sell to him now, he’d make sure to give me fair market value. I just don’t know, though. What do you think? What would you do?” She was a strong woman, but her voice seemed tremulous at best.
“Grams, I’ve almost got the money we need. Don’t sell. Tell them no, thank you. I’ll have the first half this Monday and the rest right before Christmas. Don’t worry. I’ve got things taken care of.” He changed the subject, determined to lift her spirits, even as he worried every minute of every day himself. “Now, what do you want Santa to bring you for Christmas, Grams? A new dress?”
She laughed, the sound welcome after the anxiety in her voice moments before. “Actually, a box of chocolates would be the best present. Will you be home in time to celebrate?”
“No matter what, Grams, I’ll be there on Christmas Day. I promise.” Tommy just had to betray a bunch of people to make that happen.
Chapter 9
Amanda
Amanda walked around the side of the barn. Checking on the pregnant alpaca they were animal sitting for Mrs. Toggleson had become Amanda’s job. Self-assigned. She welcomed any opportunity to be away from the main house and facing any uncomfortable situations with her father.
She had a sneaking suspicion that was why he was gone so much as well. She didn’t blame him. He still wasn’t home from the last time he’d left.
While she struggled with the reality that he wasn’t her biological father and that she was half Wilson, Amanda had to acknowledge that her father had found out his wife had cheated on him, at least once, at the same time she had found out the truth. To make matters more complicated and painful, a daughter he’d believed was his, well, wasn’t. Amanda got it. Unfortunately, she understood more than she knew how to verbalize.
They’d all been betrayed by the one person who they should have been able to trust above everyone else.
At least Amanda was getting professional help. She wasn’t too impressed with the fact that she was blindingly attracted to the seemingly transient therapist. That couldn’t be professional on any level and there she was dreaming up ways to see him more, and not necessarily in a professional capacity.
Was that ethical? She was paying him for his time. That had to be illegal in multiple states.
Was it illegal in Montana?
Heat flushed her cheeks. Thankfully, no one was around to call her on her inappropriate thoughts. She pressed her lips together and shook her head as soft snowflakes hooked on her curls tumbling around her shoulders.
A silver SUV blocked the driveway between the barn and the house.
Amanda narrowed her eyes, pulling her gloves off to reach up and shove her hat tighter down her head. Who was at the house? She couldn’t remember seeing that car before.
Rounding the vehicle, she studied what she could see through the windshield. Nothing gave away the owner. And the front seat was empty.
That meant they were at the house.
Amanda reached the front porch and paused, her foot resting on the bottom step. “Mrs. Wilson, um. Can I help you?” She was surprised to see her biological father’s widow standing at the front door.
The Wilson matriarch was known for being kind and friendly, but would she treat Amanda that way after finding out that Amanda was her dead husband’s child with his married mistress?
“Amanda, hello.” Mrs. Wilson turned toward Amanda and folded her hands at her waist. She smiled softly, seemingly confident in the moment. At least