[ no Tim this chapter, but he'll be here next time! ]

☆︎

THAT'S MY GIRL. JUST HOW I RAISED YA.

[ episode 1.05 ]

RAYLAN GIVENS PRACTICALLY STORMED INTO THE DINER IN HARLAN, heading for his Aunt Helen's familiar and aging form. He hadn't seen her in nineteen years and yet she still was the same and easy to spot in a crowd. And not even the 'no smoking' sign at the door could keep her from taking a drag from the cigarette in her hand.

"Why can't you bail him out?" Raylan asked as soon as he reached her. Helen had called him — no, not him, Ava Crowder — to tell him that she needed him to bail his father, Arlo Givens out of jail. And he was less than thrilled about having to come home to discuss the possibility of doing so.

"Those are first words out of your mouth?" Helen asked with a scoff.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll start again," Raylan said, shaking his head. "I see you're still smoking."

She raised an eyebrow. "You still piss in your bed?"

"No, you see, I gave up my bad habits."

"Not all of them, I hope," she said, making him chuckle, unamused. "How's Ava?"

"She's..." Raylan trailed off, feeling a bit ashamed to be sleeping with the woman that was involved with his case against shooting Boyd Crowder. "How did you know to call her?"

Helen just smirked at him teasingly. "Ava cuts your little sister's hair, Raylan. You know? The sister you ain't never set eyes on before?"

Raylan's mouth hung open a bit, his pulse picking up speed. He glanced around the diner nervously as if the girl would appear out of thin air. "She told Paisley?"

"Paisley Grace," Helen corrected. "And even if she hadn't, I thought she might know how to reach you, considering you both shot a Crowder boy in her dining room."

Giving up on that front, Raylan just sighed. "My original question — why can't you bail him out?"

"Sheriff Hunter and his jackboot thugs pulled your father over for D.U.I. a few weeks back, and I got a little boisterous in his defense, and they got a restraining order on me," Helen admitted. "I can't go in the jail."

"And Paisley Grace can't?" Raylan asked. He'd certainly had to bail their father out of jail enough times growing up — it was only fair she had to as well.

Helen just shook her head. "That baby ain't got no business near a prison," she said with a frown. "Besides, she's been in classes all day. Gave her money to go a semester at the college. She's still driving back from Lexington."

Raylan paused — this was the first he was hearing of his sister being anywhere near Lexington for the college courses offered. He'd been there for well over a month and was a little surprised she hadn't reached out.

As if he hadn't been avoiding her for her entire life.

"Fine. Give me the money," Raylan gave in. "I'll go get him."

"Aren't you even gonna ask what he did?"

"Honestly, I don't care," he shrugged.

"There's a man, Stan Perkins. I don't like him," Helen quickly told him. "He's renting my old house on Indian Line. Arlo just went over there—"

Raylan rolled his eyes. "There's always a reason, huh?"

"—Rent's about the only money we got besides the government check."

"Oh," he smirked before taking his cowboy hat off and sitting down, unimpressed. "You want me to post the bail. You know, there's got to be fifty people in this town that could front you that money."

"And not one of them is his son," Helen said pointedly. "You came to town. You didn't so much as call. Left that sister of yours dreaming what she could've done to make her brother hate her."

Raylan looked away, more shame washing over him as he thought of Paisley Grace — he didn't even know what his little sister looked like, for God's sake. He could've passed her on the street every day walking to the courthouse for all he knew.

"It was work," he said stiffly.

Helen shook her head and began pulling out cash to settle her bill. "I got to go get his prescriptions. You drive him home."

"I'll put him in a taxi."

"You drive your father home!" she snapped, leaving no room for discussion before she left.

Raylan sighed and sank down in his chair a bit. Deep down, he just knew that because of his father, he was going to be dragged into some kind of shit, it ruining his rare day off.

And how right he was.

☆︎

Paisley Grace had only been home for five minutes before Helen arrived, a bag with Arlo's heart medication and a handful of scratchers with her.

"Hey, Sweetie," Helen greeted her, passing by the young girl who was seated on the couch in the living room. Paisley Grace was scratching away in a sketchbook with a charcoal pencil, not looking up as Helen kissed the top of her head. "How was class?"

"Good," she nodded. "Austen Mahelona bought the Oxy. Told Daddy he wouldn't back out."

"Well, least tell me you got your cut," Helen said, coming to sit next to the girl.

Paisley Grace just smiled while ceasing her drawing. "Course. Already in the bank. Not giving Daddy a chance to steal my share. His cut is out back and underneath the tree."

Helen narrowed her eyes at the girl. "Did you mess up my flowerbeds?"

"The flowerbeds have been messed up, Aunt Helen," she said, snorting a bit. Then Paisley Grace bit her lip nervously. "Is, um, I mean, is he gone bail him out?"

"He's probably at the station by now. You wanna be waiting out front for him so you can meet him?" she asked while running her hand through Paisley Grace's long hair.

"I don't know," she murmured. "Figure he don't wanna see me."

"And he don't wanna see Arlo, but he's stuck in a car with him," she said, chuckling. "A boy needs to know his sister. He ought to be ashamed for waiting until now."

"What if he don't like me?" she asked with a grimace.

Helen laughed at that. "Honey, you work for Bo Crowder and just helped your daddy steal a shit load of drugs. He won't like you — those parts of you, at least. But the nice little artist who loves to laugh and go to the movies and play the guitar at Johnny's bar on Fridays? He'll love that part of you."

"I do guess meeting him like this ain't the best of circumstances," she murmured, knowing starting a relationship with a huge lie over her head wasn't wise. But it was the way things had to be. "Maybe I'll wait outside—"

A knock at the door cut Paisley Grace off, who stayed seated with her sketchbook as Helen went to answer the door. When she heard Helen say the name of the very man that she'd robbed the night before, Paisley Grace leaned over to look at the door. Stan Perkins was at the door with two other men — one rather lanky while the other was huge.

"Hell. Stan. You need an ice bag for your nutsack?" Helen had asked him.

Rather than reply, Perkins pointed to the larger of the two men, who stepped forward and ripped the screen door off its hinges. Startled, Paisley Grace quickly stood up, clutching her notebook tightly. She didn't have her gun on her as she'd only just gotten back from school, the only place she didn't carry.

"That's one," Helen said threateningly.

"One what?" Perkins asked while forcing his way in, the two others following.

"Get to three, and you'll find out," she told him.

"You know what?" Perkins asked, coming to stop in the living room. "Arlo took something of mine, and I want it back."

"What?" Paisley Grace asked, raising an eyebrow as she stormed forward, towering over the short man. "Your dignity? Or the lifts clearly missing from your shoes?"

"Honestly," Helen chuckled. "Being laid out by a man that age."

Perkins huffed while beginning to turn over the throw pillows and blankets on the couches. "Hey, you know that space behind the closet? Arlo told me about it when I moved in. He said at if I, uh, had something valuable, to put it there. Well, guess what? I had something valuable, and I put it there, but it's not there anymore, so... you're gonna show us where it is. Or do you want my nephews to find it?"

Helen tilted her head, pretending to think about it. "I want you to leave is what I want."

"Guys... go," he ordered.

In an instant, the two nephews began tearing through all the cabinets and potential hiding spaces in the living room, not caring as they turned over furniture and broke things.

"Don't you touch our stuff!" Helen shouted.

"Hey!" Perkins yelled, grabbing her before she could approach his nephews.

Helen glared at him and tore herself free. "Two."

"You listen to me. I hate this place!" Perkins snapped. "I hate every last one of you knuckle-dragging shitheads. I'm only here 'cause I have to be, okay? The second I can, I am out of this cesspool, but I need money. And to get that money, I need what your husband took from me, so either I get it or I kill him."

"I'm afraid threatening my daddy makes three," Paisley Grace said in a low tone, staring down her nose at him.

Perkins just snickered. "Should I be scared?" he asked before looking back at his nephews. "Hey, guys, you scared?"

With his back turned, Helen grabbed the large knife that was sitting on the table. She swiped at Perkins, who barely got back in time. Then the larger of the two nephews came at her and shoved her back, making her hit the table before falling to the floor, a glass plate shattering around her as it fell too.

"Look at that! Strike fucking four!" Paisley Grace said, raising her voice.

Then she turned quickly and punched the smaller nephew in the nose hard, blood pouring from it as he crouched over to hold his nose. The big one charged at her, but she got around him and grabbed Perkins by the collage of his coat and shoved him up against the wall.

"You think roughing up old ladies is fun, huh?" she asked, knocking his head against the wall. "How about I—"

She let out a shout as the bigger nephew grabbed her from behind, lifting her off the ground as she kicked and clawed at his arms, managing to kick Perkins in the face as she did so. But then she was slung around and thrown into a curio cabinet, hitting her head hard as the glass shattered around her, leaving her dazed.

Cupping his bruised jaw, Perkins stalked over to her, now looking down at her as she slumped tiredly on the ground. "Tell your father that this isn't over."

Paisley Grace glared up at him. "Oh, it most definitely is not."

☆︎

The car ride with Arlo couldn't have ended fast enough in Raylan's opinion. But finally, he pulled his car to a stop outside his childhood home, noting that it was considerably rundown compared to the last time he'd been there. Clearly, Arlo wasn't keeping up with the maintenance.

"Want to come in?" Arlo offered as he unbuckled.

"Nope," he said, not even giving it another thought as he eyed the old, light blue Chevy truck he'd parked next to. "I got to get back to Lexington."

"Suit yourself. Don't figure Paisley Grace would want anything to do with you anyhow," Arlo muttered while getting out.

That made Raylan clench his jaw as he stubbornly looked out his window. Only for his gaze to fall on a set of headstones — there were four instead of three like he remembered. And he knew that beneath one was his mother, who died ten years prior.

"Those headstones always spooked you as a boy," Arlo recalled as he stopped by Raylan's door. "Remember how I got them? In trade for some cows."

"Stolen cows, as I recall," Raylan accused.

"I thought I'd be under mine long before Frances was under hers," he sighed. "Got the fourth for your sister a few years ago — she wasn't thrilled by the birthday present."

"I don't see why. Every girl's dream," Raylan muttered sarcastically.

Arlo snickered before walking away. "At least say goodbye to Helen if you're gonna pretend your sister don't exist." But before he could nag him even more, Arlo got close enough to see his screen door hanging off the frame. "Hey, what the hell happened to my screen door? Paisley Grace! Helen?"

Arlo rushed inside, Raylan not too far behind him. Helen was crouched down in the dining room and sweeping up the broken plate. Meanwhile, Paisley Grace was standing in the living room and looking in the decorative mirror that hung on the wall, dabbing at a cut above her eyebrow with a rag. There were a few others on her arms from the glass falling on her.

"What in the hell happened here?" Arlo asked, looking at the mess. "You okay?"

"Do I look okay?" Helen snapped as Raylan stepped into the room, assessing the scene. And then his eyes fell on his sister and didn't leave.

Though she was facing away from him, her eyes that were the same shade as his met his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. Her brown hair was pulled back messily and she wore a flannel shirt stained with paint. The tips of her fingers were dusted with black from her earlier drawing, which had been interrupted.

And Paisley Grace took in the man that must've been Raylan. He was tall like she was with brown hair hidden underneath a wide-brimmed cowboy hat. It'd been ten years since she'd seen her mother alive and well, but Raylan had very similar features to hers, which made her stomach turn.

"Was it Perkins?" Arlo asked, clueless to the stare-down the siblings were having.

"It wasn't the Easter Bunny! I almost got that little pecker with a knife. Ooh, and Paisley Grace kicked him real good," Helen said before noticing that Arlo was hardly listening. He was looking around for something. "What are you looking for?"

"My bat. I'm gonna put that asshole's head in."

"It was his boys who tackled me and roughed up Paisley Grace," she explained.

"Then I'll go hurt them," he declared.

"Daddy, your bat is still at Perkins'," Paisley Grace informed him in a soft tone that surprised Raylan. He didn't expect anyone from his family line to sound as soft as she did. But her thick, Kentucky accent was exactly what he'd imagined.

"I'll just use Raylan's bat," Arlo decided while heading upstairs.

"Arlo!" Helen shouted while standing up. "Raylan, tell your father to leave it alone."

Finally, Raylan looked away from his sister and at the ruined living room. "No, I think you got it under control. So long."

Paisley Grace gaped at him in disbelief as he left, unable to believe he didn't care that Helen had been hurt. Sure, he didn't know his sister, but Helen meant a whole hell of a lot to him.

"Hold on a sec," Helen called after him, following him outside. And Paisley Grace was right behind her.

"Why did those guys knock you around?" Raylan asked, coming to a stop. He glanced at Paisley Grace, taking in the cuts that had stopped bleeding. "This all 'cause of rent?"

"I told you. We need the money," Helen explained.

"Yeah, no, I can see that," Raylan said with a smirk, gesturing to the house.

"You don't like it, pick up a paintbrush," she huffed. "Get to work."

"Perkins never sent the rent?" Raylan asked accusingly, not believing it for a second.

"Hold on?" Paisley Grace asked, her eyes wide. "This is about rent? I got my head smacked around for rent, Aunt Helen?"

Helen huffed as Paisley Grace played stupid for her brother's sake. "It's possible he did, and we forgot..."

"Helen," he sighed.

"We're old, Raylan."

"Jesus."

"We forget things," she excused.

"Arlo is up to something," Raylan told her. "What, is he trying to scam this guy, huh? Get him to pay rent twice. I should have never come."

As Raylan began walking to his car once more, Helen called out to him, stopping him in his tracks. "Your father had a heart attack."

"Helen!" Paisley Grace hissed, knowing Arlo didn't want Raylan knowing that.

"When?" Raylan questioned.

"Two years ago. He went to the V.A. on account of his Vietnam service. While he was there, he snapped, lost his mind for a few days," Helen explained. "They diagnosed him with that stress disorder, T.P.... P.T.P."

"Yeah, uh, P.T.S.D.," he sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

"They also said he's bipolar," she added. "Doctor said that's why one day he'd be lie Santa Claus, tossing out candy, the next day he'd bite the head off of anyone who met his eye, said that's why he drinks so much. But he's on medication now. He's calmer than I ever saw him."

Raylan looked at her, thoroughly amused. "He just busted up a man's house and squared him in the balls."

"Well, he's still Daddy," Paisley Grace said with a little smile that Raylan couldn't help but smile at too — she had their mother's smile.

"Yeah," he nodded before walking again.

"Thanks for coming down for him," Helen said.

"No, no," he denied. "I didn't come down for him. I came down for you."

Accepting it as the truth, Helen sighed and went back into the house to try and calm Arlo down. But Paisley Grace remained, her eyes on Raylan as he reached his Town Car.

"That's a nice car," she noted, eyes on the Lincoln that he unlocked. "Lot better than my truck. But it gets me to classes and back."

Raylan hesitated, deciding to wait a minute on opening the door and climbing inside. "Helen said you've been going to the college?"

"Yeah."

"What're you studying?"

Paisley Grace beamed as he showed an interest, and it made guilt eat away at Raylan, who had ignored this bright young girl her whole life.

"Getting a BFA," she told him. "Trying to, at least. Taking it semester by semester, payment wise, you know?"

"Yeah, I understand that," he nodded. "You ever run across Perkins before this?"

"Naw," she said, shaking her head as she came closer. "I mean, I heard Daddy and Aunt Helen talk about him before. Stuff about not likin' him — can't say I'm fond of him either after this. But... if Daddy's trying to rob him... well, maybe we deserved it."

Raylan quickly shook his head. "No," he said softly. "Paisley, you don't deserve anything done as an act of retribution against that man."

"It's Paisley Grace," she corrected him. "Mama... Mama always insisted people call me the full thing. I know it's a mouthful though."

"Sure is," he agreed. "It, um, it's nice meeting you, Paisley Grace."

"You too, Raylan," she nodded. "I figure I should let you leave now, huh? You don't wanna get stuck here like the rest of us."

"No," Raylan said quietly. "No, I don't."

☆︎

Despite Paisley Grace arguing with her father that she should've been the one to handle Perkins' nephews, Arlo didn't listen. He let his anger guide him right to the diner, where he beat on the boys with Raylan's baseball bat. But before he could kill anyone, he had another heart attack, which landed him in the hospital.

So, for the second time that day and for her whole life, Paisley Grace met her brother. He pulled that fancy Town Car right up to her and Helen as they stood in the parking lot of the hospital. Helen was busy smoking, and Paisley Grace was just keeping her company.

"How is he?" Raylan asked once he was out of the car.

"Asleep," his sister said.

"Doctor says he's a lucky man," Helen told him. "We both know that's a lie."

Raylan sighed and walked over to Helen's car. "How have you put up with him all these years?"

"For this one," Helen said while bumping into Paisley Grace's shoulder. "And we suffer well together."

"Then why are you out here and not in there with him?" Raylan asked her. "Hmm, has nothing to do with the shotgun in your backseat?"

It wasn't the only weapon. Paisley Grace had a gun in her waistband, but Raylan couldn't spot it because of her baggy flannel shirt.

"Perkins may be coming to finish off Arlo," Helen said simply. "I want to be here to greet him when he gets here."

"Yeah, well, be careful. 12-gauge has a hell of a kick," Raylan warned. Then he looked at his sister. "Wanna show me to his room?"

"Yeah, come on," she said, figuring he just didn't want her outside in case Perkins actually did come.

"You feeling okay? After everything?" Raylan asked her.

Paisley Grace just nodded. "Yeah. Little sore from him throwing me around, though. I'll be alright, I figure."

"You ought to learn some self defense with you living in Harlan," he told her.

"What?" she asked with a smirk. "Thrashing my limbs violently and hoping I hit something good isn't the techniques they teach to Marshals in training?"

"Not quite," he said, chuckling as they turned a corner.

And as they went further, they heard Arlo's voice, but it wasn't coming from his room. He was at the nurses station, telling some kind of joke.

"And we looked out of our tent, and there was a bear — a big, goddamn grizzly bear. I look at Jimbo, and he's putting on his sneakers, and I say, 'what are you putting on your sneakers for? A grizzly bear can run thirty miles an hour. You can't run faster than a grizzly bear.'"

As they found him, Arlo was standing up and leaning on the pole his IV saline bag was secured to, talking to a young nurse with a smile on his face.

"And Jimbo looks at me and says, 'I don't have to run faster than a grizzly bear. I just have to run faster than you.'"

The nurse laughed while fixing a tray of medicine to bring to other patients. "That's an old joke, Mr. Givens."

"And I'm an old man. Alls I know are old jokes," he reminded her. Then his doctor walked by, a clipboard in hand. "Hey, doc. This is my son, Raylan. He's a United States Marshal. And my daughter, Paisley Grace. She's gone be a world class artist one day."

"Nice to meet you," the doctor said, smiling at them both. "You must be very proud."

"You have no idea," Arlo said, looking between the siblings.

"It's time for you to go back to your bed, Mr. Givens. I'd like you lying down," the doctor explained.

Together, Paisley Grace and Raylan got Arlo to his hospital bed. And since Paisley Grace had been taking care of the man for years, she let Raylan do all the work. As he untangled the tube of the IV, Arlo studied him.

"Don't just yank them out thinking that'll solve all your problems," he joked before growing a bit more serious. "It's good to see you." Only to be met with silence. "That's it? You're not even gonna lie and say it's good to see me?"

After pulling Arlo's shoes off, Raylan pulled the cover up around his shoulders. "It's good to see you," he lied easily.

It made Arlo chuckle tiredly. "You know, what you do, your line of work... I think you'd seen things that would put to shame what you see as your hard life."

"That's true," Raylan sighed.

"But our stories are our own, huh? We've all got our cross to bear. Remember your grandfather, my pop?"

"Not well," he admitted.

"Your sister never knew him. He was no picnic. Was a preacher when I was a boy. A real old-time religion man. His god was the lord of war and thunder. That house was nothing but fear. And I rebelled, as boys do, chose a path I knew would aggravate, and it did, which is why you barely saw him. He didn't much approve."

Raylan chose to ignore the story as he grabbed his blazer off the chair he'd sat it on before looking at their father. "Helen told me you had a heart attack two years ago. Went to the V.A.."

"She told you that?" Arlo asked with a frown.

"Mm-hmm."

"She tell you about the stress disorder, the bipolar?"

"Yeah."

"Jesus. What do you think about all that?" Arlo asked, getting a simple look from Raylan. "I think it's bullshit, myself."

"I think you need to be careful about Perkins," Raylan instructed as Helen came in.

"Where were you, Woman?" Arlo asked, ignoring the warning.

"Down in the parking lot, giving blowjobs for cash," she joked, making Paisley Grace gag.

"Were you paying or were they?" he asked her.

Helen looked at Raylan accusingly. "Why did you wake him? Could have had a peaceful night."

"He was already up," Paisley Grace told her. "Flirtin' with the poor nurses."

"What were you saying about Perkins?" Arlo asked Raylan then, who was moving to leave.

"I was saying I think you picked the wrong man to pull your little rent scam on."

"Rent scam?" Arlo asked, playing dumb. "What the hell are you talking about? I didn't pull any—"

"Arlo!" Raylan snapped, not in the mood. "Stan Perkins may look like a pushover. And maybe that's why you thought you could put one over on him. But he is not. You understand me? You best leave him alone. Don't go putting Paisley Grace and Aunt Helen in more danger."

"Long as he leaves us alone," Arlo grumbled.

"He comes by, you call Sheriff Hunter," he ordered.

"I can handle him."

"No, you can't."

Seeing that Arlo wasn't listening, Raylan just shook his head in annoyance and left the room, not so much as a goodbye leaving his lips. Paisley Grace watched him go before looking at her father.

"You think he knows?" she asked anxiously.

"He will soon, I'm sure," Arlo said, rolling his eyes. "But he's too late."

"Yeah, well, gone have to dig your share up to pay for all this shit," Paisley Grace said, gesturing to the hospital room around them. "Sucks to be you."

Arlo narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't help your poor, aging father out in his time of need?"

Paisley Grace smiled softly as she sat at the foot of his bed, reaching for his hand. "Remember, I'd sell you out to Raylan for twenty bucks and a chance to try on that silly hat, Daddy. That pain medicine is making your memory hazy for thinkin' I wouldn't."

Her father smiled at her tiredly. "That's my girl. Just how I raised ya."

☆︎

Two hours later, Raylan was back at the hospital, and he'd learned a lot after a visit to Johnny Crowder and to Perkins. Things about his father and sister.

Helen was the first to spot him walking toward the trio that was standing out in the hallway so that Arlo could get some air. "Where did you go?"

"Went by your old place," Raylan said before looking at his father. "Isn't that where you wanted me to go?"

"What do you mean?" Helen asked.

"Perkins let me right in like he didn't have a care in the world. Then I found the bag of OxyContin in the compartment behind the closet."

Arlo slowly turned away from Raylan and began walking. "OxyContin. What?"

"It still didn't occur to me," Raylan went on

"What didn't?" Paisley Grace asked with a frown. "What are y'all talking about?"

"Can I ask you a question?" Raylan asked his father, stopping him from walking. "Is there a part of you that's just disappointed?"

"Disappointed?" Arlo repeated.

"In that you raised such an idiot?" Raylan finished, visibly upset with himself.

"What are you talking about? He had a heart attack today!" Helen exclaimed.

"Oh, my god," Raylan said, his face falling. "Is that true? Arlo, I am so sorry."

Paisley Grace had to bite her lip hard to keep from laughing as Helen continued to fuss. "Raylan!"

"Helen, Paisley Grace," Arlo said in an even tone. "Go outside and have a menthol. Go."

After a moment, Helen relented and walked away, and Paisley Grace remained standing, her eyes on her father, not entirely trusting him. But she couldn't just tell him to keep his mouth shut, so she followed Helen outside.

Paisley Grace let out a big sigh and leaned against the brick wall, Helen right next to her. "He found the Oxy I planted," she guessed.

"He won't know it's you that did it," Helen told her, shaking her head.

She just turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, he will. You were here at the hospital, and I don't have an alibi. He ain't stupid."

"Well, he ain't got proof," she said.

"I don't care about proof," she muttered, rubbing her forehead. "I care that I just ruined my one chance at a relationship with my brother because you were too cheap to bail your husband out. I didn't want to get Raylan involved at all. I was content the way things were."

Helen sighed and wrapped an arm around Paisley Grace's shoulder. "It'll be alright, I'm sure. And you know I'm always right."

"That's true," she said with a sad smile.

A minute later, Raylan came storming out of the hospital in a foul mood.

"It's not what it looks like, Raylan," Helen said quickly.

"Oh, I think it's exactly what it looks like. And, uh, that bail I posted, please consider that a belated wedding present," he said, continuing to walk. "You know what really pisses me off? That you were both in on it."

"Now you're just talking out of your ass," Helen scoffed as Paisley Grace looked at her feet.

"Oh, Arlo could have done most of it by himself, but that bag of OxyContin that was planted there for me to find, Arlo was here when that happened. Here with you," Raylan said, looking at Aunt Helen. So, his eyes then slid to Paisley Grace accusingly.

"Raylan, Honey. I swear, Paisley Grace had nothing to do with it," Helen told him.

"No. One of the things my Aunt Helen taught me, along with how to talk to a girl and order food at a nice restaurant, was how to spot a lie," he said, shaking his head.

"You think what you want. But consider this... maybe whatever you think happened wouldn't have happened if you'd just bothered to come see your father when you came to town," she said accusingly.

Raylan scoffed at the excuse. "He did all this because he was angry at me. Oh, okay."

"Your father didn't fake a heart attack. The heart attack was real!" Helen shouted as Raylan walked away. "Him wanting to see you was real, too!"

"Well, he saw me," he said bitterly before getting into his car and leaving them behind.

☆︎

Paisley Grace was working late in the art studio the next night, the only one from her class still left as she put some finishing touches on the oil painting she'd been working on for two weeks.

The last thing she expected was for someone — Raylan — to slide onto the stool next to her.

"It's good — looks just like her," he noted, taking in the details on the canvas.

Slowly, Paisley Grace sat her paintbrush down and looked away from the painting of their deceased mother and at her brother.

"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly. "Here to handcuff me?"

"Naw," he chuckled. "Here to talk."

"Talk about what?"

"I did some asking around about you — first time I was in town, I asked around too, if I'm being honest," he admitted. "And you know what everyone says?"

"That I'm an angel?" she asked jokingly.

"Just about," he nodded. "Everyone sings Paisley Grace's praises. Except Boyd Crowder."

Paisley grinned, thinking of the man that was more of a brother that Raylan had ever been. "Did you ask him before or after you shot him?"

"Both," he nodded. "And the first time, it was like you could do no wrong. You're the sweetest girl that ever lived in Harlan. But when I paid him a visit this morning, he was singing a different tune now that he's pledged his soul to the good lord above."

"He's what?" she asked, giggling a little.

"Just as silly as it sounds," he said, rolling his eyes. "But he had a different opinion of you."

"And what opinion was that?" she asked, wondering if Boyd would choose to out her as a worker for his father.

"He said you're a good kid, Paisley Grace. But you have a habit of gettin' mixed up in things you ain't got no business gettin' mixed up in," he said. "Which explains a lot about your situation."

"What situation is that?" she questioned.

Raylan gestured around the nice art studio. "I think you came by tuition money through less than honest methods."

Paisley Grace bit the inside of her cheek and hid her nervousness with a smirk. "Well, prove it, Big Brother. Like Aunt Helen told you — she gave me the money same as she did you when you were my age."

"And I know Aunt Helen ain't got the means to hand out that kind of cash anymore," he countered. "I also know you've always spent way too much time around the Crowder family from what Boyd says."

Paisley Grace fought off the urge to swear, knowing Boyd had outed her as an employee of Bo's and not just a general troublemaker. She'd have to poke him in the gunshot wound next time she saw him. But rather than argue and try to pointlessly defend herself, she just sighed sadly and looked away. 

"You don't know nothin' about me, Raylan," she murmured, both knowing it was true.

And that familiar guilt crept up on Raylan because of it. He looked at the young girl, partly feeling responsible for the way she turned out. He hadn't been there for her growing up, depriving her of probably the only good influence she'd ever have a chance of being around.

"Well," Raylan sighed, "maybe we should change that."

Paisley Grace peered at him curiously. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean you're up in Lexington three times a week," he said. "Maybe we could get lunch next time you're here. Get to know each other better."

"You actually wanna do that?" she asked in a small voice. "Spend time with me?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I figure I got eighteen years to make up for. A couple lunches won't hurt unless you think so."

Paisley Grace couldn't help but smile — his mother's smile, he again thought. "Naw. Naw, I don't think it'd hurt."