“No, thank you. I can’t stay.” She lifted the bag she carried. “One of my husband’s clients owns a butcher shop that specializes in grass-fed beef. He sent several steaks home with Wyatt today. More than we can eat. I’d like to give these last two to Gen, but, Sam. This isfilet mignon. Gen can’t cook, and even if she could, Idoubt she could cook this properly on a hot plate. So I wondered if you’d like them.”
“Sure.”
“Great.” She passed them over.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you,” she said sincerely, “for allowing Gen to rent your cottage. Living on your farm has been really good for her.”
He inclined his chin.
“She told me that you know about the Oxy,” she said.
“Yes.”
“I’ve been worried about her, but she’s now made it to day fifty-eight. She’s almost two-thirds of the way to the ninety-day sober mark.” He read acute hope in Natasha’s face. He could tell that she loved her younger sister, that she desperately wanted Gen to succeed at recovery.
He understood. He’d experienced that same intensity of determination toward Kayden’s recoveries once. He’d hate for Gen to let Natasha down. At the same time, no one—not him, not Natasha—could will another person to change.
“She’s doing well, overall,” Natasha continued. “But the past few days, she’s had trouble sticking to her schedule.”
Worry sliced him. “She has?”
“Yeah. I just wish that her recovery were the only thing on her plate right now. That would be more than enough to deal with. But, on top of that, she has to write a new study and handle this thing with our parents.” Natasha hooked her thumbs through her belt loops. “I know you went with her to Clayton a while back.”
“I did. But she hasn’t told me any information about your parents since then.”
“I’m not surprised. We haven’t even told our parents what we’ve found yet. And what we’ve found is ... heavy.”
“Ah.”
“I’ve been keeping tabs on her, but I can’t do so all the time. It’s reassuring to know that you’re nearby and can keep an eye on her, too.”
He wanted to insist that he had no plans to keep an eye on Gen. But that was only true in theory. In practice, he’d been keeping an eye on her since the day she’d moved in, and was apparently physically incapable of stopping. Since he’d walked away from her on Monday, he’d been every bit as aware of her movements around the farm. Maybe even more so. He knew when she was home, when she was away, how late she went to bed, how early she rose.
“I’ll let you know if I notice anything concerning,” she said. “Will you please let me know the same?”
“Yes.”
“Gen’s lucky to have you in her corner, Sam.”
“No,” he said quickly. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“She has a ton of acquaintances and a ton of followers. But she needs more people like you in her life. People who actually know her, who care.”
“I agree that she needs people in her life to know her and care about her, but it would be better for her if I wasn’t one of them.”
She pondered him.
“What?” he asked.
“I still think she’s lucky to have you in her corner.”
“She’s lucky to haveyouin her corner,” he told her, meaning it.
“Good night.” She gave a small wave and made her way to her car.
He watched her pull away.
