Clark looked up from his book when he heard you coming down the grand staircase, a glass of whiskey on ice in his large hand.

“Leaving already? It’s pretty late…” he mumbled quietly, assuming that his daughter, Abbey, was sleeping by now seeing as she didn’t lead you to the door herself.

He stood with a smile, walking over to place his hand on your lower back and lead you away from the door.

“Stay the night… And in the morning I might teach you to shoot. Abbey mentioned that you’d like to learn.”