The evening air is growing cold now, the sky painted pink and gold.
She opens her door.
“I’ll drop this off,” I say, taking the container from her. “You can wait here. I’ll just be a minute.”
But she’s already stepping out.
“I want to meet your grandfather.”
I pause. “You do?”
“Of course.” She shuts the door and joins me at the base of the porch steps. “You can’t just casually mention a rancher grandpa and expect me not to be curious.”
I study her. Then shrug. “Fair enough.”
We climb the steps together.
The familiar scent of old wood and coffee greets us the second we enter the house.
Granddad is exactly where he always is.
Sitting in his worn recliner in front of the television.
The volume slightly too loud.
He glances up. And immediately brightens. “Look who finally decided to show.”
His eyes shift to Harleigh and lighten even more. “Well now, who do we have here?”
I clear my throat. “Granddad, this is Harleigh Storm. She works at the hotel.”
I turn to her. “Miss Storm, this is my grandfather, Josiah Rayburn.”
Harleigh smiles warmly. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Rayburn.”
He grins like a man who just won the lottery. “Call me Josiah, pretty lady.”
I hold up the container. “Brought you dinner, old man.”
“Bless you, boy.” He takes it eagerly.
Harleigh moves toward the armchair across from him. “So, Porter tells me you built this house,” she says.
His chest puffs up. “Sure did.”
They fall into conversation instantly. Which doesn’t surprise me. The man could talk your ear off.
“Um, Granddad,” I interrupt, “we have to go. I need to get Miss Storm home.”
He frowns. “Before you go,” he says, “there’s a leak in the kitchen.”
Of course there is.
“I’ll cut off the main valve and send a plumber on Monday.”
He scowls. “I can’t go without water for two days.”
I sigh. “Where is it?”
