Free One Night in Weaver... by Allison Leigh Page A

clicked softly between her fretting fingers. “Too soft, I always thought. Particularly for a young man inheriting a steel empire. I thought I was the strong one.”
    “Women often are,” Hayley murmured.
    “I wasn’t strong, though. I was just typical. A product of a privileged life. Which I’d had, even though the Archers were nothing like the Templetons.” Vivian suddenly pinned her with a look. “Times were different then, Hayley. When I was a young woman. You understand that, don’t you? Reputations. Scandals. They could ruin a person back then.”
    “Some might say they can ruin a person now. But, yes, I understand what you’re saying.” She just wished her grandmother would be more specific about what had threatened to ruin Sawyer Templeton. It was hard to untie a knot if all you knew was the general length of the rope.
    “There were
expectations
of people like your grandfather. And his father before him. There were things one did. And things that one simply did not do. People of our class didn’t mix with...others.” Vivian made a face. “And yes, I know how that sounds. But back then...” Her voice trailed off and she looked away. “I was nineteen when I married Sawyer,” she said after a moment. “He was four years older. I believed that the only thing of importance was fulfilling all of those expectations. But Sawyer... Oh, he was just different. He didn’t care what other people thought. So it was up to me to care.”
    “Vivian,” Hayley prompted gently. “You were a young woman in a different time. Nobody here is judging you for anything, except you.”
    The pearl clicking got faster. “Now I’m paying the price.”
    “My father and Uncle David will come around.” Saying the words helped to remind Hayley, too, that there was always hope they would at least attempt some sort of reconciliation with their estranged mother.
    Vivian’s expression was tight. “They wouldn’t accept the photograph albums I put together as Christmas gifts. The albums you said would have some impact.”
    “And I still think it would make an impression that you’d preserved so many memories from their childhoods.” She’d put the carefully wrapped boxes containing the albums in her closet so Vivian wouldn’t be constantly reminded of them.
    “Yet Carter wouldn’t even come here on Christmas Eve to see his own daughter because I was here,” Vivian said. “He’s more like
me
than he ever was like his father. Unforgiving to the end.”
    “Well, the end isn’t here yet,” Hayley countered immediately. “I’ll try talking to Dad again. Remember, you’ve only been in Wyoming for six months. That’s not a lot of time, considering how long it’s been since he and Uncle David both chose to leave Pennsylvania.”
    Vivian finally released her pearls, rested her head against the couch cushion, closed her eyes and sighed. “Thatcher left first,” she murmured. “My firstborn. He broke my heart. And then he died in that horrible skiing accident and I never had a chance to tell him I loved him.”
    “Vivian.” Hayley moved from her chair to sit beside her grandmother and gently took her beringed hand in hers. “You will still have time to tell your family that you love them.”
    Vivian slowly opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. “I’m an old woman. I don’t have forever to wait, dear. I’m closer to the end than I want to think about.”
    Hayley wasn’t going to deny the basic fact of her grandmother’s age. “The same thing can be said of any of us. Life is never a given—not for anyone, regardless of their age. The fact that Thatcher died when he was a young man is proof of that. So the point is to act while you can.
    “Maybe we haven’t gotten through to my father and Uncle David yet. But
please
don’t let that stop you from getting out there and living your life right now. You have to stop hiding yourself here in my house. I know how different Weaver is from what you’re used