Pops lets out a low grumble.
“Oh, hush,” I bite out.
Sawyer gives me an approving look.
“He’ll also need to make sure he’s eating a heart-healthy diet. Limit the red meat, nothing with too much sodium...”
“Nothin’ that tastes good.”
Dr. Berk arches a brow. “I don’t want to see you in here again, Vern. Take care of yourself, so I don’t have to.”
And with that, she leaves the room with a flourish.
Sawyer rounds on Pops. “You lied to me! You told me you didn’t need to change your diet.” Her cheeks are red from irritation.
“I didn’t lie. It was stupid, and I didn’t like any of the food on the list the doctor gave me.”
I interrupt whatever Sawyer is about to say. “It isn’t stupid, Pops. Had you done as you were told, you might not be lying in a hospital bed right now. And you won’t get away with fibbing this time because I’m going to make sure someone is at every single appointment and every single therapy session with you and, while I’m at it, I’ll be obnoxiously thorough about your diet. You can huff and puff all you want, but I’m a Dawson, and I inherited your damn stubborn streak too.”
Pops looks at me wide-eyed, surprised that his usually soft-spoken granddaughter has just given him such a thorough talking to.
Sawyer whistles low, and her lips kick up in a satisfied smile. “You tell him, Quinn.”
Pops narrows his eyes, muttering under his breath. “Damn women ganging up on me.”
Sawyer smirks. “Get used to it, old man. We’re just getting started.”
If There's One Thing I'm Good At
Tripp
Sawyer told me and Wes to get our asses to Pops’ house for a “family” meeting, so once we finish moving the cows that still haven’t calved to a new pasture, we bring Luci and June back to the stable. It’s small—only able to house half a dozen horses—but a much larger one is being built, along with a training paddock.
Wes is in his element running the ranch. He’s only been here five months, but he’s settled in and found his place. He had big plans for Dawson Ranch, and I was eager to see it grow and thrive under his stewardship.
“Why do you think Sawyer’s calling a meeting?” I ask.
Wes shrugs. “She sounded annoyed.”
“Doesn’t she always?”
He swings a narrowed gaze my way, but I just smirk.
Sawyer has never been the sweet and demure type. That’s no secret. But it seems to suit Wes just fine. I think he likes being around someone who’s a straight shooter. God knowshe’snot good at sugarcoating shit.
We quickly untack the horses at the stable and then head inside the old two-story farmhouse, where Sawyer and Quinn are both waiting in the kitchen.
I lean against the counter, arching a brow at Quinn as I cross my arms over my chest. She glances at Sawyer, who looks like she’s about to lose her shit on someone. I’d really love to get out of here before she takes aim at me.
“So, what’s this meeting about?” Wes asks.
Quinn sighs, “We talked to Dr. Berk at the hospital today. She mentioned Pops’ recovery will take some time and suggested having him in a skilled nursing facility at first until he gets a bit stronger. After that, he’ll have physical therapy and follow-up appointments with his doctor and nutritionist.”
Wes frowns and slides a palm over his face. “Great. Do we want to set up a rotating schedule? I might need to hire an extra hand sooner rather than later.”
Quinn shakes her head. “You can leave Pops to me.”
Wes stations his hands on his hips. “Quinn, I don’t expect you to make the trip from the city for every appointment. You have a job too.”
