been looking for work in Seattle, and it seems that everyone is tightening their belts.”
“Have you looked elsewhere?”
“The Bay Area, Portland. Spokane.” But it was going to be expensive to relocate.
“Nothing?” He gave her a look that made her feel as if she needed to say something to convince him that she wasn’t slacking. Or maybe to convince herself she wasn’t slacking.
“Not even an interview. The most I’ve gotten is ‘we’ll keep your name on file.’” She took a sip of tea and managed not to choke. Her grandfather made tea the way other people made coffee. “I just need to be patient. Times are tough, but I know if I persevere, I’ll nail something down.” Another small sip, because small was all she could handle. “Something even better than what I had.”
“And for now?” Her grandfather gave her a shrewd look. “Because it appears that this might take some time.”
Taylor balanced her cup on her knee. “Yes. About that...if I don’t get an infusion of cash soon, I’ll lose my apartment.”
“I can see that happening,” Karl agreed, which was not the response she’d expected.
“I was on a waiting list for almost two years to get into that building.” Downtown, close to the Wharf. She loved it so much—she felt a rush of gratefulness every time she looked out over the city and the Sound from her bedroom window—and since there was only one bedroom, a roommate wasn’t possible.
“Things change, Tay.”
Things change? Yes, they did, but if one was resourceful, they didn’t have to change too much.
“I don’t want to lose my apartment, and I don’t want to drain my savings keeping it.”
“What about your car?”
“I can’t get out of it what I put into it, but yes, I will sell it...if I have to.”
Karl leaned forward in his chair. “What do you want, Taylor? From me, I mean.”
She felt her cheeks go warm. He was gently chiding her. They’d been super close at one time, and he’d always been her biggest cheerleader. But when she went to work for Stratford, she’d started logging the crazy hours, living a crazy life. When she wasn’t working or trying to cram some relaxation in—which was almost as exhausting as working—she was sleeping. She’d meant to call, truly she had.
But she hadn’t.
“The money you lent me to go to school?” Which she’d paid back in full over a year ago. “Could I borrow it again?”
Her grandfather’s mouth tightened, and the fact that he didn’t instantly say yes made her stomach knot up. “I put it into some long-term funds. If I pull it out now, I’m going to lose money.”
Taylor’s heart sank. It was his money, of course, but...honestly? She’d figured borrowing the money back would be a slam dunk and mutually beneficial. Karl would get interest. She’d get a safety net, which, properly managed, would help her if she took one of many much-lower-paying jobs she’d been looking at to tide her over.
Damn, damn, damn.
She tried to work up a smile but had a feeling it looked kind of sick, because she felt kind of sick. “I understand. And...this isn’t the only reason I’m here.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t want to tell you that I was a loser.”
“Everyone loses, Tay.”
Not her. Not often, at least, and never in such a huge way.
“I guess.” She pressed her lips together. She couldn’t stomach any more of the strong tea, which meant she was stuck on the sofa forever or until Karl relieved her of the cup.
She looked at her grandfather then and wondered, judging from the way he was looking at her, if he wanted her trapped there.
“You know,” he said slowly, “you’re welcome to live on the farm if you want and look for a job locally to tide you over. I’d invite you to live here, but I don’t have much room.”
That was an understatement. His house had one bedroom, one bath, a tiny kitchen and a living room. It was truly a single-person house.
“I...uh...” Would hate so much to lose my place. The apartment was even more of a symbol of what she’d accomplished than her car. And her mother was so ridiculously proud of her. “I appreciate it, Grandpa. But what about that guy living there?”
“There’s always the bunkhouse.”
“It needs work.”
“You’re resourceful.”
“Me?” Taylor almost spilled her tea. And she felt ridiculously betrayed. “But—”
“He’s paid a month’s rent on the house. It wouldn’t be right to ask him to move midmonth.”
“Just one month?”
“I’m keeping my options open, so we have a month-to-month deal.” He glanced through the window at his sister’s place next door. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here. Elise is doing better, but she hates being alone.”
“How long has he been on the farm?”
Her grandfather did a mental calculation. “Two weeks yesterday.”
Which meant his month in the house was already halfway over. That made Taylor feel better. To a degree.
Move to the farm...? As much as she appreciated the offer, it was a crazy idea. More than that, it was demoralizing.
“The thing is...if I move to the Eagle Valley—” and somehow keep it quiet from her mother “—it feels like I’m giving up.”
“Why? Aren’t there jobs in your field in Missoula or Bozeman?”
“I’m sure there are.” In her field, but probably not at her level.
“They may not be as prestigious,” her grandfather said, reading her thoughts, “but they’d pay the bills.”
“Yes.” Hard to argue with that. Taylor took a drink of tea, trying to tamp down the feeling that she was being sucked into a farm vortex. She’d never once considered moving two states away from her beloved Seattle, or settling in a rural area, but the idea made an awful kind of sense. Her living expenses would be slashed to next to nothing. She was having no luck in her job search, and each day brought with it a deeper sense of desperation and depression. If something didn’t change soon, she’d have to sell her car, find a new living situation—one that involved roommates—and she’d have to pass a credit check to join a lease and...
“The farm would be a stopgap, until you get back on your feet.”
When had she become so transparent?
Taylor moistened her lips. “How would your tenant take the news if I decided to move in?”
“Cole’s a decent guy.”
If you say so... “What made you decide to rent the house to him instead of just leaving it closed up?”
“I didn’t want it broken into while I’m gone, and with him living there, he can farm more easily.”
He could also farm easily from the bunkhouse. He was a farm guy. Probably used to roughing it.
“How well do you know him?”
“Not all that well personally. His grandfather and I were friends.”
“Did you...cowboy together?”
Karl gave her a surprised look. “I wasn’t much of a cowboy, but I worked for two summers on the Bryan family ranch near Missoula.