Page 53 of High Water

“I’ve always done everything I can to protect Bishop from any kind of hurt, and I always will.”

“Then it’s settled.” She nods and takes a long sip of her tea, apparently satisfied with my answers. “Now tell me more about what you do for work and what my great-granddaughter is like.”

When I get back to the ranch, the family’s inside already finishing up dinner. Bishop is among the guests this evening, and he and Ramsey clear the plates from the table and load them into the dishwasher while Fallon tells me about her day.

“Did you finish your homework?”

“No.” She sighs. “I’m struggling with my history essay, and it’s due at the end of the week.”

“All right, well, get it out and ready. I need to do a couple of things, and then I’ll be up to help you with it, okay?”

“Okay.” Fallon excuses herself from the table and thanks Hazel for dinner before she disappears up the steps.

I make my way into the kitchen, grinning at seeing my youngest brother load a dishwasher. He hated chores growing up and would do literally anything to get out of them. Since he was the youngest, my mom usually gave him a pass. So it’s fitting that Hazel doesn’t even have to ask on the nights she cooks. I’d say, “If only I had a man like that,” but Bishop was always that man. Full of yes, ma’ams and no, ma’ams around my mother, always asking if she needed anything from the store once he could drive, and forever helping her with things around the house.

I wonder if she knew the truth about my father. The thought hits me out of the blue. If she knew, she never let on. Not in all the years after.

“You all right there?” Bishop asks when he sees me leaning on the doorframe outside the kitchen.

“Yep!” I force a smile. That’s not a conversation I want to be having right now.

“Okay…” He eyes me warily. “Well, I’ve got to head up to the Springs. I’ve got a few things I have to do at my place. So I’m heading out. I was gonna ask how your visit with Grams was, but with that look on your face, I’m not sure I want to ask.”

“I’ll walk you out.” I nod to the door. I want to have this conversation away from my little brother. Bishop follows behind, letting me lead the way out onto the back deck.

“So how’d it go?”

“I think she’s skeptical but willing to play along. She said she’d draw up the papers this week.”

“Well, that’s promising.” He grins. “You must have charmed her. She doesn’t warm up easily.”

“I didn’t get to talk very much. A lot of it was her telling me things she felt I needed to hear.”

“Oh shit…” His smile falters.

“It’s fine. Some of it I needed to hear. Some of it was illuminating. I didn’t mind so much, but you weren’t kidding about her cutting deep when she wants to.”

“She’s one of a kind. That’s for sure.” He gives me an apologetic look, and I start walking with him toward the truck.

“At least it seems like it worked, and all of this won’t be for nothing. I invited her to the wedding.”

“Well, good. I’m glad. Speaking of, I’ve got something for you.” He pauses halfway down the pathway and pulls his wallet out of his back pocket, plucking a card from it and holding it out to me. “Here.”

“What’s this for?” I stare at the credit card with “Bishop Bradford” embossed on the corner that he holds out in front of me.

“Your dresses—you and Fallon. The cake. Anything else you want. I think Grant and Dakota have most of it covered. He wanted to handle all the details as the head of the family, and I think Dakota just wants to make you happy as her future sister-in-law, but I want you to pick out any of the details you want. I thought I’d handle the suits and the flowers unless you’ve got an objection.”

“Oh, I don’t need to spend money on all that. Grant’ll cover most of it. I’m sure they have a cake they can whip up in their kitchen for us. You can pick whatever flavor you want. And as far as dresses go, Fallon and I have plenty in the closet.” I feel weird at the idea of spending Bishop’s money or using his credit card. Which probably didn’t bode well for our marriage.

“I’m not some broke ranch hand anymore, you know. I’m not nearly as rich as all your brothers or your ex, but I can afford to buy my daughter and my bride dresses for our wedding.” Bishop’s jaw tenses as he talks.

“That’s not at all what I was implying,” I answer, mortified that he thought I was. “I just mean it’s, well, it’s…” I stumble over my words when I realize the thing I’m about to say might not sound much better. “You know, with it being an on-paper thing for us, or us knowing it is anyway.”

“It’s not important enough for a new dress?” He fills in the blanks with a blunter version.

“I’m not saying that either. I just have plenty of fancy dresses in the closet that are beautiful and barely ever worn.”

“My grandmother might be getting older, but her eyesight’s still pretty damn good, and her tastes are still particular even if they’re not Stockton-level. She’ll clock an old, repurposed dress no matter how fancy it is.” He pushes the card into my hand, and I close my fingers around it. “And frankly, I don’t care to see my wife in a dress she wore on the arm of some other man on our wedding day. It’s my first wedding, even if it’s not yours.”