TIM, THIS REALLY AIN'T ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS.

[ 1.6 — 1.7 ]

PAISLEY GRACE HOPED THAT HER ENTHUSIASM DIDN'T SHINE THROUGH TOO MUCH when she showed up at the courthouse in Lexington a full twenty-three minutes earlier than required. She was just so excited about having lunch with her brother — her brother who was probably going to use the time to interrogate her on Boyd and Bo Crowder, but she was so excited and hopeful for a potential relationship with Raylan that she didn't care whether or not his intentions were pure.

She was extra careful not to get any paint on her blue sundress, wanting to look as nice as possible. Her hair was braided and she wore her nicest pair of shoes. She didn't want to look like the cheap, Harlan trash that Raylan probably thought she was deep down.

Now, she stood on the first floor in the courthouse, staring at the signage with a small, confused frown as she tried to find the office Raylan worked in. But the Lexington courthouse was huge, so it was taking her a minute to find it.

"You look a little lost," a deep voice with a thick accent said from her left, catching her attention.

Paisley Grace turned and spotted a man just a little taller than her. He had neatly combed blonde hair and wore a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and some jeans. He was handsome was her first real thought about him.

"Oh, um, a little," she admitted sheepishly. "I've never been here. You wouldn't happen to know where the office for the Marshals is, would you?"

"Well, I should hope what with me bein' one that works there," he said with a charming smile. "Come on. I'll show you."

"Thank you so much, Marshal..."

"Gutterson. But you can call me Tim," he introduced while walking around the corner and to the elevator. "And you are?"

"I'm Paisley Grace," she told him, scrunching her nose up a bit. "Little bit of a southern mouthful."

"Naw, I like it," he said, hitting the 'up' button. Then he smiled down at her. "Pretty just like its owner."

As they stepped onto the elevator, Paisley Grace couldn't help but blush as she looked down — boys didn't flirt with her much, too afraid of her Daddy to even consider it. Not to mention that before Boyd got shot and sent to prison, he liked to gang up on poor boys with Johnny Crowder to scare potential suitors off.

"Sweet," she said simply, shaking her head. "This what you do? Wait in the lobby until a girl looks clueless so you can flirt with her?"

Tim jokingly snapped his fingers like his evil plot had been foiled. "You caught me. You're the sixth girl this morning that's fallen for my tricks."

"I guess I'm just too smart to be seduced by you," she insisted as they went up to the top floor.

"Don't mean I won't keep trying," he said with a smirk. "So, what brings you to our office?"

"I'm meetin' someone for lunch plans," she told him.

"Hmm. I'm tempted to steal you away from them."

"Ah, but then your fellow deputies would be arresting you for theft," she teased.

"Naw, theft don't fall underneath the Marshals' purview," he joked. "I'd outrun some street cops in no time."

Paisley Grace just laughed at him as the elevator came to a stop and they stepped out into the hallway. "Well, it's very flattering that you're considering a life of crime for little old me. Even if there were five others before me."

"Yeah, but not a one compared," he assured her. Then Tim led her through some clear glass doors and into a fairly empty office with a couple desks scattered around. "And we have the Marshals Office."

"Thank you, Tim," she nodded to him before scanning the area quickly. She didn't immediately see her brother, making her frown a bit. "You wouldn't happen to be able to point me in the direction of Raylan Givens, would you?"

Tim paused, his eyebrows shooting up for a second. "Well, I don't see him, but you can wait at his desk. It's right by mine."

"Raylan's out for the day," a woman said, overhearing them. Paisley Grace looked over toward the small, dark-skinned girl who was walking right toward them. "How can we help you?"

"Well, I guess you can't unless you're wantin' to take me to lunch," she said, smiling uneasily. Then Paisley Grace subtly checked her phone, seeing no missed calls from the man. "Might I inquire as to where he is?"

"He just left a few minutes ago with our Chief. He's working something in Cincinnati," the woman said.

"What's he doing in Ohio so last minute, Rachel?" Tim questioned her.

"Property needs to be seized," the apparent 'Rachel' replied. "I'm sorry. Raylan didn't leave any messages to let anyone know about missing a lunch appointment."

Paisley Grace smiled tightly. "Well, thank you for letting me know. Just means he's gotta buy mine when we get together finally."

"Say, how do you know Raylan?" Tim couldn't help but ask, tilting his head.

"I'm his sister! Paisley Grace Givens," she said brightly, happy to claim him as her brother in front of his coworkers. "I guess I didn't tell you my last name, huh?"

Both Rachel and Tim looked genuinely surprised by that fact.

"I didn't know Raylan had any siblings," Rachel admitted, studying her closer, comparing her features to Raylan's.

"Well, we ain't real close," she told them, crossing her arms. "Lunch was the first step in trying to fix that. Guess I got my hopes up." Then Paisley Grace forced another smile. "But hey, got to meet some of his coworkers. Y'all seem real nice. He's lucky."

"Be sure to tell him that, because he seems to think working with us here in Lexington is torture," Tim said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, it is still Kentucky," she said with a laugh. "Ain't nobody really want to be here. Nothing worth while here."

"I don't know. Kentucky has a few good things hidden away — beautiful things, as it turns out," he said, eyes on her. Rachel silently raised a judging eyebrow, knowing Raylan wouldn't care for his flirty tone one bit if he were there.

Paisley Grace smiled down at her feet shyly before looking back at him. "And there are some 'just alright' things too," she shot back, making him chuckle. "I guess I'd better get back to Harlan if I'm not having lunch. But really, it was nice meeting you, Tim. Rachel."

"Nice meeting you too, Paisley Grace," Rachel said. "I'll let Raylan know you dropped by."

"Need help finding the lobby?" Tim asked with a hopeful smile.

"I think Miss Givens can find it," Rachel said with a smirk. "You've got extra work to do with Raylan and Art out of the office."

"Right," he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Well, get home safe, Paisley Grace."

"You too, Tim — I think you're probably in a smidge more danger than me," she said, pinching her fingers together. Then she gave him one last smile before turning to leave the office.

Once she was on the elevator on her own, she pulled out her phone yet again, willing for some kind of text from Raylan to appear. A message letting her know that he'd be missing lunch and was sorry for canceling their plans.

But even by the time she got to Harlan, there wasn't one. Raylan had forgotten about it.

About her.

☆︎

The next time Raylan was in Harlan wasn't to visit his little sister — though after two days, he did reschedule their lunch. No, he was in Harlan because he was sleeping with Ava Crowder despite explicit instructions to not do that from his boss.

But it was a lucky thing Raylan was at her house because someone broke into Ava's house in the middle of the night and tried to shoot her. Now, he was working with Harlan's sheriff, Hunter Mosley, and looking for Johnny Crowder, who'd been seen threatening Ava in the hardware store just that morning.

"Johnny."

At hearing Raylan's voice inside his bar, Johnny looked up. He'd been showing a woman how to shoot pool but walked off from her.

"Hey! Raylan Givens in the house!" Johnny said, looking genuinely happy to see him before he looked at the Sheriff, who he wasn't so fond of — there was history between Sheriff Mosley and the Crowders. "And looky here. He brought his little cop buddy.

"Get your clothes off, Johnny," Mosley said, making Johnny's eyes widen.

"Pardon?" Johnny asked, leaning against the table.

"Well, I know you speak English. I believe it's one of your proudest achievements," he said snidely. "Take your clothes off."

Johnny just smirked at him, not making a move to do so. "You finally coming out as a gay man? Shit. Good for you."

"Somebody took a shot at Ava tonight," Raylan revealed.

"Old Raylan here put one in him. I want to make sure it ain't you." When Johnny just stared at Mosley, he again ordered, "Get your clothes off."

"Well, I will if you will," Johnny shot back with a smirk.

Mosley stomped closer, getting upset. "Get your clothes off!"

"All right, Johnny, listen to him," Raylan said warily, trying to keep the peace.

"You can arrest me if you want, but it might not go as smooth as you hope it would," Johnny spat.

"I'll show you how smooth!"

Mosley pulled his gun as Johnny lunged at him, but Raylan quickly put himself between the two before a real fight could break out.

"Whoa! Hey! Hey! This does not have to go sideways!" he said before looking at Johnny. "I know it wasn't you. If it was, I figure you'd be in a world of pain."

"Maybe you just grazed him," Mosley suggested, still so certain it was Johnny because of his feud with the family.

"I hit meat. I heard the man howl," Raylan insisted as he eyed Johnny. But Mosley wasn't going to be sated by just Johnny's word.

So, seeing that there was no other choice, Raylan quickly restrained Johnny, who cried out and fought him. But Raylan was stronger, so he couldn't get free as Mosley lifted his shirt, looking for a fresh gunshot wound that he couldn't find. Everyone in the bar was watching as the owner got manhandled, him kicking and hollering as he tried to free himself.

"I want to see his ass!" Mosley snapped, not pleased with the lack of wound.

Raylan sighed and turned Johnny around, who kept shouting angrily as Mosley yanked his pants down enough to see his butt — which was also free and clear of a gunshot wound.

"I'll be damned," Mosley huffed when he didn't see anything incriminating.

"Well?" Raylan asked, letting Johnny go, who instantly stood up and fixed his clothes.

"You're right. It wasn't him," Mosley said, pretending to not see the accusing glare on Johnny's face. But then Mosley took it a step too far and punched Johnny in the groin.

"We know you're threatening Ava, boy," Mosley said, glaring at him still.

"That's true, Johnny. You're gonna have to answer for that," Raylan told him, glancing at him. "And don't say it was about deer hunting. That ain't gonna fly."

"I only did it for her own good," Johnny huffed, still hunched over in pain. "I mean, shit, Raylan. Come on, Ava's a beauty. I always wanted to bed her myself. I just said what I said because I didn't want a pretty girl like that to get hurt."

Then he stood up a little better and glanced at Mosley. "Are you sure you ain't gay?"

"Did any other Crowders order a hit on her?" Raylan asked him.

"By 'any other Crowders,' you mean Bo?" he asked, all knowing the answer. "Who's still in prison, by the way, as I'm sure Mr. Big Boy here's been bragging about."

"That's right!" Mosley said proudly.

"He could get the word out," Raylan insisted.

"Well, if he did, I didn't hear about it. I heard nothing. He doesn't tell me that shit anymore," he said, sounding a bit bitter.

Raylan and Mosley, realizing they weren't going to get any answers, just shook their heads and left.

"'Cause I am the business owner!" Johnny shouted after them. "I'm the respectable one! Why don't you go bother that sister of yours!"

Raylan came to a quick stop and whirled around, narrowing his eyes at Johnny. "What'd you say about Paisley Grace?"

☆︎

The next time that Tim Gutterson saw Paisley Grace Givens was not how he expected. He was seated at his desk, doing dreaded paperwork that was rendering his morning coffee fairly useless. He'd only been at work for forty-five minutes and was ready to leave.

Only to perk up along with everyone in the office when the glass doors opened and Raylan dragged a handcuffed Paisley Grace in and toward the interrogation room.

"Yeah, I know how to fucking walk, Raylan!" Paisley Grace snapped while trying to get out of his harsh grip. "Jesus Christ, are handcuffs necessary?"

"I told you that you have a right to shut up — surprised you haven't taken me up on that offer," Raylan said in annoyance before calling out to Art, who was in his office. "Art, I got her."

Tim, his jaw a little slack, watched as Art went from his office to the interrogation room. And he wished more than anything that he knew what the hell was going on in the Givens family.

With a huff, Paisley Grace sat down in an uncomfortable chair, her glare on Raylan as he sat on the other side of the table. Another old, bald man was with him as well.

"Miss Givens, it is nice to meet Raylan's sister," the man said, seeming genuine about that as he smiled. "I'm Chief Art Mullen."

She kissed her teeth in annoyance before looking away from her brother. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Mullen."

"Oh, Art's fine," he said, waving his hand.

"Wanna finally tell me why you dragged me out of my class in handcuffs?" Paisley Grace asked, back to glaring at Raylan again.

"Last night, someone tried to kill Ava in her own home," Raylan informed her, watching her expression carefully. "Broke into her bedroom and tried to take her out with a shotgun."

He saw how her eyebrows scrunched up in surprise. "What?" she asked. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine. Raylan was there," Art said in a displeased tone. "But Sheriff Hunter Mosley and Raylan—"

"Mosley?" she cut him off with a laugh. "He's a useless piece of shit, that man — a Paul Blart Mall Cop wannabe. He tell you it was me?"

"No, Johnny Crowder insinuated that if Bo Crowder wanted Ava dead for killing Bowman, that he would've contacted you to do as such," Raylan informed her in a hard tone. Then he leaned forward. "Paisley Grace, I cannot help you if you're not honest with me. Did Bo Crowder put out a hit on Ava? And are you the one supposed to carry it out?"

Paisley Grace flinched back, unable to believe her brother was accusing her of something like that. Her eyes actually watered, and she hated how weak that made her feel.

"No," she said quickly. "God, no. I'd never hurt Ava! And I fucking hated Bowman, so I'm glad she killed him."

"But you have a history with Bo Crowder's operation—"

"Yeah, I did," she admitted, looking away in shame. "But I've never touched no drugs or killed anyone. And I haven't been in contact with Bo for months."

Not since her father ran Bo's protection ring into the ground and lost all his money — she was worried she'd be in some deep shit when Bo was eventually let out of prison. Arlo had screwed her out of any potential future jobs.

Then Paisley Grace glanced to the side and caught Tim and Rachel watching her through the glass door. Her cheeks flushed, feeling humiliated, so she quickly looked away with a sigh. "Look, if Bo wants Ava dead, I don't know nothing about it. But I do know she needs to get the hell out of Kentucky."

"Don't I know it," Raylan muttered before looking at Art. He glanced from the man to his sister and back again. "You believe her?"

Art scoffed. "She's your damn sister, Raylan."

Paisley Grace just rolled her eyes. "Not to make myself sound incredibly suspicious, but if I'd been hired to kill Ava, I wouldn't have done it with Raylan around and she'd already be dead. And Johnny knows that — he's just being a little shit throwing my name around."

Whether Raylan believed her or not, at the end of it all, they had nothing against Paisley Grace and had to let her go.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, Miss Givens," Art said as he opened the door for her. "Don't hold it against me?"

"Oh, I'll hold it all against Raylan," she said with a tight smile as Raylan came up to her with the keys to the handcuffs. As soon as she was free, she turned on her heel and stormed to the door.

Raylan sighed and followed after her. "Paisley Grace—"

As soon as he grabbed her arm, she tore herself free and whirled around to glare at him. She hated that angry tears were welling in her eyes.

"Don't touch me! Do you know how embarrassing that was?" she asked, not caring that people near them could hear. "My own brother putting me in handcuffs in the middle of my goddamn mixed media class? You think I tried to kill the woman who was more like a sibling to me than you ever were? God, why couldn't you stay in Florida?"

She stepped back, and again, Raylan grabbed her. But when she wasn't strong enough to free herself, someone came to her rescue.

"I think she said not to touch her, Raylan," Tim spoke up, coming over slowly, his narrowed eyes on his coworker.

Raylan gaped at him before releasing Paisley Grace. "Tim, this really ain't any of your business. Go back to your desk."

"I don't think I will," he said, shaking his head. "Now, we don't want a fight breaking out in here."

"This ain't a fight," he said with a sigh before looking at his sister once more. "Paisley Grace, you understand that I have to do my job. And you were a suspect based off—"

"Based off what Johnny Crowder has to say," she scoffed. "'Cause he's just the most upstanding man you've ever met, is he?"

"Well, you're not either," he said flatly, both knowing he was right. "Don't let this get between our relationship."

"We don't have a relationship, and that's your fault," she reminded him. "It was so easy for you to believe that I'd kill Ava because you don't know the first thing about me, Raylan. Well, now you're not gonna get a chance to. I don't want anything to do with you."

"Now, come on," he said sadly, shaking his head. "We've still got lunch in two days. This don't have to change our plans to get to know each other better."

Paisley Grace actually laughed. "You put me in handcuffs in front of my friends and then ask if I wanna still get lunch? Are you stupid?"

"I've been told on occasion that I might be," he nodded, thinking back on the lecture he'd gotten from Art not an hour and a half ago for sleeping with Ava. Then Raylan sighed once more. "Come on, Paisley Grace. Give me one more chance."

Gloddamn it, she wanted to say no. But fuck, if she didn't want a brother more. All her life, she'd just wanted a brother that loved her and cared about her. So, she was so impossibly desprate to still have that even after Raylan did something like this.

"I've got the rest of my classes to go to for the day," she just muttered instead of answering him. "Don't let Ava go getting hurt until you catch the shooter."

"Paisley Grace..." Raylan trailed off as she turned to leave.

"It was nice seeing you, Tim," she called over her shoulder. "You, not so much, Raylan."

☆︎

That night, Johnny Crowder had a broken nose thanks to Paisley Grace. He was miserable, holding a cold beer to his nose as he watched Paisley Grace strum her guitar — for extra cash, he let her play music in the bar. She sang lots of old bluegrass and country music to appease the regular patrons.

The man deserved the broken nose after he'd told on her to Raylan — acted as if he didn't also still work for Bo. And he knew damn well that Bo hadn't ordered a hit on Ava yet. He also knew Paisley Grace wouldn't have ever carried the hit out, so Bo would've gone with someone else. But truthfully, both knew Bo would rather kill Ava himself rather than let someone else do it for him.

Paisley Grace was just about done singing Blue Moon of Kentucky when she saw her brother warily enter the bar. Raylan walked right over to her and dug out a twenty, shoving the bill in the nearly-empty tip jar sitting at a table for her. Once she played the final notes, she sat her guitar to the side and watched him carefully.

"What?" she asked in a hard tone.

"I came to apologize," he said simply. "I realized I hadn't actually said that back at the station."

"No, you didn't," she muttered. "Did you catch the shooter?"

Raylan nodded. "Turns out the hit wasn't on Ava. Sheriff Hunter put one out on me — he's working for the cartel through Miami. I killed one of there's a while back."

"That one you shot in Florida? The Bucks fella?" she asked curiously. Truthfully, she wasn't surprised by Mosley being so crooked that he was prepared to carry out murder.

"Yeah, that one," he said, sitting down across from her. "I made a wrong call about you, Paisley Grace, and I'm sorry. I'll try to be better."

"And if I don't accept your apology?" she asked, tilting her head.

He cracked a crooked smile. "Would another twenty in the tip jar get me closer?"

"It's a start," she said simply, a little amused that he knew how motivating money was to her. She watched as he pulled out another bill, forking it over. "Thanks — for the money and the apology. It hurt a hell of a lot that you'd believe I'd try to kill Ava."

"Yeah, Ava smacked me over the head when I told her we brought you in for questioning," he admitted. "But tell me something — how did you know Tim?"

"From when you bailed on lunch," she reminded him. "He and Rachel were very nice. I like them a lot more than I like you right now."

"Yeah, I think most people that deal with us all prefer them to me," he said, not really joking. "So, that make-up lunch?"

Paisley Grace studied his expression, wondering if she should give him a second chance — he was giving her one, after all. "Can I pick where we eat?"

"As long as it ain't sushi."

"You don't fucking like sushi?" she asked in alarm. "Jesus, there's something wrong with you."