The past has its place...in the past!

Innkeeper Shay James has been telling herself for a decade that she’s over her ex-fiancé, Jonah Cedar. But now the Chicago attorney’s come home to care for his ailing grandfather, reawakening powerful feelings—along with painful memories. Shay can’t afford to repeat history.

At twenty-two, Jonah couldn’t wait to trade his secluded Alaska hometown for big-city success. Shay was supposed to share that dream. Yet even with unresolved issues between them, their connection is stronger than ever. Jonah’s visit was only going to be temporary…until a threat to Shay’s beloved Faraway Inn gives him a reason to stay and fight for that second chance.

Jonah sat next to her on the blanket.

A gentle breeze stirred her hair, and she tucked the loose strands behind her ear. She pulled some snacks out of her backpack.

His voice was soft as he said, “I never look at a piece of licorice without thinking about you. Still your favorite candy?”

“Still my favorite candy,” Shay answered as her heart squeezed painfully.

She didn’t want him remembering her favorite candy and being nice to her. Arrogant, selfish, materialistic Jonah she could handle. She could even manage bitter and sarcastic Jonah. Kind and thoughtful Jonah was too much like Old Jonah.

And Old Jonah, she reminded herself, was dangerous.

Dear Reader,

True forgiveness is one of the most difficult aspects of life for me to tackle. In fact, I would put forgiveness right up there under grief on my list of life’s most extreme challenges.

Shay James has spent years grappling with a particularly cruel combination of both. And she’s finally accepted that some of the things other people take for granted in life just aren’t in the cards for her. She’s...if not exactly happy...then at least content, and that’s the most she can hope for under the circumstances.

Isn’t this the perfect moment for her attorney ex—and the primary cause of her issues—to reappear in her life and turn her careful world upside down? Especially when Jonah Cedar is back in Rankins reluctantly and for reasons that might not be what they appear? Add the well-meaning “help” of family, a bit of legal trouble and the inimitable town of Rankins as the backdrop and, well, poor Shay...

At its heart, this story is about healing, self-discovery and love—love of family, friends and community—and the power of forgiveness.

I hope that, like me, by the end you’ll have laughed and cried and be left cheering for Shay to allow Jonah to argue—and win, the case that could change everything for her—A Case for Forgiveness.

Please stop by and visit me on my new website, carolrossauthor.com.

Or we can connect on Facebook, facebook.com/carolrossauthor, or Twitter, @_CarolRoss.

All my best,

Carol

A Case for Forgiveness

Carol Ross

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CAROL ROSS lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two dogs. She is a graduate of Washington State University. When not writing, or thinking about writing, she enjoys reading, running, hiking, skiing, traveling and making plans for the next adventure to subject her sometimes reluctant but always fun-loving family to.

To Dan, I absolutely could not do this without you. And a special thank-you to my editor, Kathryn Lye

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

“THE SHEETS ON my bed have a pattern on them,” the irritable little man spat out the word like one might cockroach at another hotel. “I cannot look at them. Do you understand me? My sheets need to be changed, and they need to be changed immediately.”

Patterned sheets? Shay set her features to sympathetic and nodded slowly. This was definitely a complaint she’d never heard before. Hannah would be thrilled—and sorry that she’d missed it. Since she’d hired her younger sister on as assistant manager, Hannah had been keeping a list of odd guest requests. This one, Shay felt confident, would land near the top.

She softened her voice to match her expression. “All of our sheets have a pattern on them, Mr. Konrad. It’s a signature feature here at the Faraway Inn.” The sheets were excellent quality—super-soft, fine-spun flannel with images of tiny log cabins, bears, and moose on them, made exclusively for the inn. Shay loved them. Usually, the guests did, too.

Mr. Konrad raised his hand high and then pointed a stubby finger straight down, bringing it to rest on the marble counter between them. All he was missing was a white glove so he could check for dust. He then gestured in the general direction of her name tag. “Well, why don’t you check your computer there, Little Miss Hotel Manager, and see where it says that I can’t sleep on sheets that have a pattern on them. I have a medical condition.”

“Oh my goodness, that is terrible.” Shay managed to look both compassionate and remorseful as she rapidly tapped on the computer keys.

“Yes, it is—patterned sheets aggravate my vertigo. I need to sleep on only white or very, very light-colored sheets—with no pattern. My assistant called about this weeks ago and I don’t understand why this concept is apparently so difficult for you people to grasp.”

“I do apologize, Mr. Konrad. Somehow your request seems to have been overlooked. I will send someone up from housekeeping immediately to rectify this egregious oversight. We have some one-thousand thread-count pima cotton sheets in a light ivory shade that are as soft as butter. But they do have a small monogram along the top edge—you know where the sheet folds over? Will that be acceptable?”

“Yes, I suppose that will be fine.”

“Again, Mr. Konrad, I am so, so sorry for the oversight and for any inconvenience this has caused you. Please enjoy some complimentary wine or Alaskan micro-brew here at our own Faraway Restaurant.” She handed him some coupons and a business card. “If there is anything else we can do to make your stay here more comfortable please don’t hesitate to let us know. My name is Shay James. I’m the owner, so you can ask for me personally if you’d like. I wrote our assistant manager’s name there below mine, so if I’m not available she usually is.”

Shay watched him thaw right before her eyes.

“Oh... Okay, I, uh, I will.” He added a sniff and then marched away.

Shay picked up the phone and instructed housekeeping on the sheet change. She spent the next hour checking in more guests and answering the phone to take some pressure off her overworked staff. The inn was full and booked almost solid for the next two and a half months. It was only the first week of June, but they had more reservations for the summer—stretching well into fall—than they’d ever had.

After the rush subsided, she opted for a cup of coffee from the guest services station. She quickly checked that every carafe was full of their signature “Faraway Brew” and that it was steaming hot. The warm butter-and-chocolate scent drifting from the doily-covered tray reminded her that she hadn’t eaten all day. She grabbed two cookies and then walked to her office, located right around the corner from the reception area.

Her cell phone rang as she swallowed the last bite. She picked up, “Hey, Em.”

“Shay, hi—how are things going?” Emily was married to Shay’s cousin Bering, and as president of the tourism bureau, she was responsible for enticing this attorney retreat to the Faraway Inn.

“Good, so far. We have one lawyer with an unfortunate sheet issue, but otherwise nothing too out of the ordinary or outrageous like I’d normally expect from such a large group of uptight type-A personalities.”

Emily chuckled. “Sheet issue? I don’t even think I want to know... But one of these days you’re going to have to tell me why you hate attorneys so much.”

“I don’t hate them,” she said. “They’re just...so...self-important?” An unsettling image of Jonah—her ex—popped into her head.

“Uh-huh,” Emily murmured in a doubt-filled tone. “Shay—”

“Emily, don’t worry. I promise we will keep these people happy. What you’ve done for the inn—what you’re doing for Rankins is nothing short of amazing and I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful for all these events and conventions and tourists you’ve been bringing here—”

“Oh, Shay, I know that and I don’t doubt your professionalism. I’m actually calling about a different lawyer—the one I know you do like.”

“Caleb?”

“That’s the one. I was just calling to make sure you remember that you’re on the food loop tonight to deliver his dinner.”

Caleb Cedar had been best friends with her Grandpa Gus before he’d passed away, and he was like a grandfather to her now. She made an exception for him where attorneys were concerned.

“Yep, I remember.”

* * *

A FEW HOURS LATER, with homemade stew, corn bread, and a fresh-baked cobbler from the Cozy Caribou, Shay pulled up in front of Caleb’s house. The large old colonial-style home stood on the edge of “downtown” Rankins right on the waterfront. Shay could see how some might deem the house a little out of place amongst the more practical and rustic buildings that dominated the town, but since it housed the only attorney in the valley the stately residence in gleaming white clapboard and brick somehow seemed right to Shay. Shay got out of her car and heard the faint sounds of a boat puttering along in the bay. She turned and recognized Crab Johnson’s boat. She lifted a hand and waved in his direction and then used it to shield her eyes. It was a gorgeous early summer evening with the kind of sky so blue it made you want to take off your shoes and wade into the bay or squish your toes into a patch of lush new grass. This was Shay’s favorite time of year—people recovering from winter’s cabin fever, giddy with the onslaught of summer activities and the endless hours of daylight to enjoy them.

Bear, moose and all manner of wildlife were being spotted with their babies. The Faraway Inn’s own resident moose, Clara, had even shown up last week with her first calf ever. At six years old, Shay had despaired of poor Clara ever being a mother—she’d begun to think that maybe she and Clara had that in common.

Shay scanned the horizon—how many lazy hours had she and Jonah spent fishing in that bay? Her heart squeezed in a way that it hadn’t in a long time.

She gathered the Crock-Pot from the car and started up the sidewalk. Ridiculous, she scolded herself, to let this wave of nostalgia creep up on her now. She blamed Emily and her attorney-talk, although it was probably only natural to have thoughts of Jonah occasionally when she came here—to the house he’d grown up in. Once upon a very long time ago he may have been her fiancé, but he was still Caleb’s grandson. Unfortunately for her, he would always be Caleb’s grandson.

She knocked on the door and decided her odd feelings might be the direct result of hunger. After eating a total of two cookies all day, maybe her blood sugar was haywire or something.

Shay felt a smile forming as the door began to open. Caleb’s dog, Francis, was barking madly now and she found herself looking forward to a relaxing evening with Caleb. The door swung wider, her smile melting from her face as her brain registered the sight before her...

Jonah?

She couldn’t seem to make herself breathe much less speak. This reaction, she knew, was not blood-sugar related. She gripped the Crock-Pot even as she pictured it slipping from her grasp and shattering all over the stone walkway.

“Hello, Shay.” Jonah’s voice came out smooth and easy, but his eyes were latched on to hers. Caleb hadn’t said anything about Jonah coming home. Jonah never—well, rarely ever, came home.

She quickly calculated he’d been home a total of eight times in ten years—not that she was counting (not on purpose, anyway), and each visit had seemed briefer than the last, a day or two, or three at the most.

At first she and Jonah mostly avoided each other, then their tense encounters began to be filled with bitterness and sarcastic jibes, until they finally culminated in a conversation two years ago that had been unpleasant, to put it mildly.

Latent anger had emerged from both sides; she still seethed when she recalled how he’d accused her of taking the easy road, of being afraid to take a chance on life—on him, while she’d told him exactly what she thought of his lack of attention to his grandfather.

Nothing had been settled and Shay had been left feeling even angrier and more frustrated than before, as well as emotionally drained, and maybe a little embarrassed. And sad... There was always that underlying sadness—the grief that she was so terrible at dealing with, although she couldn’t blame Jonah for that—not entirely.

But now here he was, standing in front of her looking perfectly composed and smelling freshly showered. Shay hadn’t even bothered to glance in the mirror during her brief stop at home. She’d mixed the corn bread and fed the cats and then tried to give some attention to all six of them—her three and the three foster cats she’d recently taken in, while the corn bread baked. She was probably looking like a tired and rumpled mess. Was she imagining that whiff of “savvy-cat salmon grill” wafting from the sleeve of her shirt that she hadn’t bothered to change?

Of course he undoubtedly knew that she’d been on her way over. It was so like him to take advantage of any edge, like the good cut-throat attorney he was.

“Here, let me take that for you.” He reached out and removed the Crock-Pot from her white-knuckled grasp.

She was too stunned to offer any protest.

“Jonah?”

“How are you, Shay?”

How was she? The question sounded all laid-back and high-school-casual as if they’d parted on friendly terms last week instead of suffering an excruciating breakup ten years ago, and years of tension and animosity since.

Francis, Caleb’s “maladoodle,” as he liked to call the poodle-malamute mix would no longer be ignored—her tail thudding hard against the door frame as she forced her way to Shay’s side. Shay reached out a hand, seeking solace in the familiar feel of her velvet-soft fur.

“What are you doing here?” she managed to ask.

Jonah’s mouth curved up at the corners. “I live here, remember? Or I used to anyway. And I will be again, for a while. Come in, I hope you’re planning to stay for dinner because Gramps is expecting you.”

Will be again? What did that mean? Her brain refused to process what it so obviously meant.

“I told Gramps that I would take him out for dinner tonight, but he insisted on letting you bring your moose stew. He said he’s been looking forward to this meal all week.”

“Yeah, well, he really likes it...” Shay mumbled sheepishly and moved around Jonah. In the kitchen, a beaming Caleb waited with his arms outstretched. The look of delight on his face managed to nudge her out of her Jonah-shock.

“Howdy, sweet girl!”

“Hey, Caleb,” she said as he wrapped his strong arms around her. Welcome comfort enveloped her; the sensation so like what she’d always enjoyed with her own grandpa, but different too, because she didn’t have to share Caleb with her five siblings. She didn’t even have to share him with his own neglectful grandson—not usually.

“How are you feeling?” Always her first question when she saw Caleb.

He pulled back, gripping Shay lightly by the shoulders as he grinned down at her. “Right as rain, now! Been saving room all day for your stew and I’m so hungry I briefly considered sharing Francis’s dinner. I’ve got the table all set, so let’s dig in, huh?”

“I, um, yes definitely,” Shay said, trying to force out some enthusiasm. “There’s more food in the car, so let me just—”

“I’ll get it,” Jonah said, and took off before either of them could say anything.

“Caleb, you didn’t mention Jonah was coming for a visit.”

“Well, I wasn’t entirely sure about the whole thing. You know Jonah—he wasn’t sure which day he was going to be able to fly out and whatnot, so I didn’t mention it. Didn’t want to jinx it—you know?” He rapped his knuckles lightly on the cupboard door behind him and added a wink.

She did know.

Every time one of Jonah’s trips hadn’t materialized, she watched Caleb deal with those dashed hopes. Why couldn’t Jonah understand what his actions did to his grandfather—the man who had loved and raised him from the age of nine?

Caleb had given Jonah so much, and in return Jonah had taken off for the big city to make money and buy expensive toys—and never looked back. Well, that wasn’t true—he’d looked back exactly eight, short, pathetic times.

Jonah returned with the rest of the food and they filed into the dining room. Caleb sat at one end of the antique oak table, while she and Jonah positioned themselves on either side of him. Caleb asked a quick blessing, and then dove into the corn bread, slicing and scooping out portions onto their plates as if this were the most normal thing in the world—the three of them eating dinner together like some kind of happy family.

Of course, it had been once...

Jonah too, appeared unbothered as he spooned thick stew into their bowls and passed them around.

Shay felt like screaming in frustration—she did not want to be here with Jonah. She knew there was absolutely no way of getting out of it now even as a parade of lame headache, stomachache, inn-emergency excuses danced silently across her tongue.

Caleb turned his animated blue eyes on her. “So, earlier I was filling Jonah in on how much you’ve improved the inn and how great the new restaurant is and how well it’s been doing. He is as anxious as all get-out to rush up there and check it out.”

Jonah looked at Shay, an amused half-smile telling her that maybe it was Caleb who was excited for him to check it out rather than the other way around.

“Apparently we are coming for the seafood buffet. Gramps said it’s so popular that we have to make a reservation. Does that mean the entire town of Rankins is now having dinner at the Faraway Inn?” Jonah’s voice held a touch of derision, grinding on her nerves like a set of worn-out brakes.

Caleb jumped in before Shay could comment, “Javier, that chef she hired? He makes some salmon dishes that melt in your mouth like candy.”

Jonah bobbed his head and somehow managed to make the otherwise innocent gesture appear condescending. “I see. Hmm, that’s...neat.”

“The restaurant got a five-fork review from this fancy reporter from Anchorage. Shay offers a discount, too, for locals, and people around here think that’s pretty neat—I can tell you that,” Caleb added.

Shay wanted to kiss Caleb, at the same time she fantasized about giving Jonah a “neat” slap on the back of his head.

Instead, she shot Jonah a cool look of triumph. “I try to think first about the people around here. Like your grandfather. This community is important to me.”

Jonah rolled his eyes.

She smiled at Caleb. “I’m sure the food at the inn isn’t nearly as good as what Jonah gets in Chicago.” It was probably too much to hope that she could discourage him from coming to eat at the inn.

“I doubt that,” Jonah said. “I do miss the food here—home cooking and fresh seafood. I’m sure I’ll have to double my workout when I get back to Chicago.”

Shay couldn’t stop herself from asking the question. “How long are you here for exactly?”

“Anxious to get rid of me already?” he teased.

Caleb chuckled.

Yes, she wanted to shout. “Of course not,” she returned carefully, like she was speaking to a three-year-old. He really didn’t bring out the best in her sometimes. She tried again, “It’s just that Caleb didn’t mention that you were going to be here, so I guess I’m wondering what you’re doing back in town. Are you here for Agnes’s memorial?”

“Any luck finding homes for those cats of hers yet?” Caleb asked.

“Five of them, but I still have the three kittens. Agnes really wanted to keep the young ones together.”

Caleb gave his head a sad shake. “I understand—Agnes was passionate about those animals of hers.”

“She did so much for this community. I feel like it’s the least I can do,” Shay said.

Caleb directed his next words at Jonah. “Our sweet Francis was one of Agnes’s rescue dogs.”

“I remember you mentioning that, Gramps.”

Shay raised her brows at Jonah, waiting for an answer to her original question.

“I was sorry to hear about Agnes. Story Fair won’t be the same without her, huh?”

Shay gaped at Jonah in surprise and then felt a new wave of sadness wash over her. She and Agnes had started Story Fair together eight years ago. The once-a-year event offered free books for kids in a fun, carnival-type atmosphere. It was designed to foster passion for reading in Rankins’ youth and had become one of the town’s most-anticipated events. She hadn’t known that Jonah was even aware of its existence.

She shook her head. “No, it won’t.” This year’s Story Fair was rapidly approaching and Shay dreaded tackling the event without Agnes.

Jonah smiled sympathetically. “I’ll attend the service of course since I’m here, but I’ve actually come home to get Gramps back on his feet.”

Shay’s eyes darted to Caleb. “Back on your feet? When were you off of your feet? You told me you were a little under the weather?”

“I may have fudged on that a wee bit.”

“What do you mean?”

“It seems that... Well, you know my days are numbered here and Jonah has graciously taken some time away from his job to help me get my affairs in order. And I’m not talking about my affair with Mary Beth Patterson—that one I can handle just fine on my own.” He chuckled mischievously at his own joke and then added, “I’m kidding about that—Mary Beth is a sweet and honorable woman and she’d take after me with a piece of her prized cast iron if she ever heard that I said that—so don’t repeat it.”

“Caleb, this isn’t funny,” Shay said, her stomach twisting with concern. “Your days are numbered? What do you mean? Are you sick? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jonah spoke up, “Shay, he doesn’t mean that literally. He’s going to be fine. He’s going to see Doc tomorrow.” Ted “Doc” Branson was Caleb’s best friend and Rankins’ longest established doctor.

Caleb swiped at the air. “Oh, Shay, honey, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to upset you. I’m sure I’ll be good as new before long. There’s just a little something getting me down—I’m not sure what. But right now, I’m so blasted happy that my grandson is home and that I’m sharing a meal at my very own table with my two favorite young people in the whole world. I thought I would die before I’d ever see this day again. So, no more of this downer talk—let’s eat.”

CHAPTER TWO

SHAY LOOKED DOWN at her bowl and then back up at her two dinner companions. Only minutes ago she’d been starving, now she felt...what? She ticked off descriptions in her head—shocked, irritated, baffled, worried...? All of the above, she decided, but especially the last one. The first three were due entirely to Jonah, and those she could get over. But Caleb? Anxiety welled within her. Did he have some secret illness that he’d been keeping from her?

It didn’t seem possible that something serious could be afflicting him. He was healthy and active and sharp as a knife. He still worked in his law office most days. And when he wasn’t, he was usually fishing, looking after his yard or playing cards with his buddies. He was the youngest seventy-four-year-old she’d ever known, but then again she couldn’t imagine that Jonah would be here unless it was serious... Jonah could barely stand to be away from his prestigious Chicago law firm—or his cars, or his boat, or his golf clubs, or his country club—as it was.

She needed some answers, but she didn’t want to possibly run out of patience with Jonah and ruin Caleb’s evening.

She faked her way through dinner, picking up her spoon and giving her stew an occasional stir. When his mouth wasn’t full, Caleb sported the same satisfied grin throughout the entire ordeal. He chattered about the latest news sweeping Rankins: Gary Watte had purchased a brand-new ATV with those airless, bulletproof, virtually indestructible tires; Stan Planke was building a new cabin; and the red salmon run was predicted to be a dandy.

Jonah had seconds. Caleb had thirds.

The Cedar men lingered, while Shay tried not to fidget.

When they finally finished, she couldn’t get up from the table and into the kitchen fast enough. Jonah attempted to help her tidy up. It took him ten minutes to find a container and transfer the leftover stew for storage in the fridge, while she loaded the dishwasher. He eventually located the plastic wrap, managed to rip off a piece about four feet long, and then proceeded to mummify the remaining corn bread. She didn’t see how it could possibly escape him that she knew her way around his grandfather’s kitchen better than he did.

She dished out the cobbler, and then retrieved the ice cream from the large chest freezer in the garage. She pulled the scoop from the utensil drawer, but when she tried to dig into it, she could only scrape thin layers from the frozen surface.

Jonah gestured, silently asking if she’d like him to give it a go. She shrugged her agreement and then tried not to stare as he pushed up his sleeve and began scooping the ice cream like it was a tub of mashed potatoes and not a frozen brick of ice.

He grinned proudly and made a show of placing a perfect scoop next to each dessert.

She rolled her eyes. Jonah chuckled.

“Put the ice cream in the freezer out in the garage when you’re through.”

She took Caleb’s dessert to him in the living room where he was now lounging in his worn-leather recliner. She took a seat on the sofa and tried to surreptitiously study him. He didn’t look sick. He and Jonah had been talking and laughing like everything was fine. Caleb seemed cheerier even than his usual cheerful self, making her both sad and happy because Jonah was so obviously the cause: the prodigal grandson returned, she thought bitterly.

But what if Caleb was trying to downplay his condition for her and Jonah’s sake? She hoped Jonah really was taking this seriously...

Shay stuck it out through a half-hour of news. Her mind constantly jumping between wanting to stay because of Caleb and wanting to leave because of Jonah. Jonah left the room, so she got up and hugged Caleb, and confirmed plans to see him at the Senior Circle’s bingo night in a couple of days. Yes, she told him, she and her cousin Janie would be calling numbers. Then she gathered her Crock-Pot and her bag and attempted a smooth, Jonah-less exit.

She’d almost made it to the foyer when Jonah emerged from wherever he’d gone, but not stayed quite long enough. She was sure she imagined the flash of disappointment as his eyes traveled over her form so obviously ready for departure.

“Shay, can I, uh...talk to you for a minute?”

“Um, I guess so, sure,” she agreed, reluctantly.

Jonah glanced toward the living room. Shay followed his gaze to where Caleb appeared to be chatting happily into the phone. The sight made her want to cry. What would she do without Caleb in her life? He was her rock, her mentor, her pseudo-grandpa... Stop, she told herself, Caleb was going to be all right. He would see Doc and they would fix this. Doc was not only an excellent doctor, he was also Caleb’s best friend and vigilant about his health.

Meanwhile, she was emotional over Agnes’s death and exhausted—she reminded herself she needed to hire more help at the inn. But it seemed like she’d spent so much of the last year worrying—about Hannah, her mom, Janie and the twins, Agnes and now Caleb.

“I’ll walk you out.”

“Okay,” she said and handed over the Crock-Pot.

They strode in silence to her SUV. Jonah opened the back door and stowed the pot. He clicked the door in place and then stared out at the water, presumably gathering his thoughts.

Shay waited with her arms crossed over her chest and didn’t care in the least if she looked impatient.

Finally he faced her. “Look, Shay, I know you aren’t exactly happy that I’m here...”

“Really, Jonah? Caleb is obviously ecstatic—and that makes me happy.”

“Shay, come on—I can tell when you’re upset. I realize it’s been a while, but some things don’t change. I just, I...”

“I?” she repeated sharply. “As always, Jonah, you’re making this all about you. I can’t believe you’re standing here and telling me that you think I’m upset because you’re here?”

“You’re not?” His arrogant smirk made her want to say something really mean—something reminiscent of their fight two years ago.

She pushed three fingers of each hand into her eyebrows, took a breath, and then released everything at once. “Jonah, I don’t care what you do. Am I thrilled to see you? No—of course not. But my obvious angst is due exclusively to the fact that I’m worried about Caleb. So you can go ahead and get over yourself right now. I don’t know what your plan is but—”

“Trust me, Shay, I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me to be. Gramps asked me to come home—I didn’t offer. He asked.”

“He asked you...”

Slowly, simultaneously, they turned and looked toward the house. It didn’t need to be spoken that if Caleb had asked Jonah to rush home then something was wrong—terribly wrong.

A surge of fear left her entire body tingling.

Their eyes met again.

“Jonah, what is going on?”

“I’m not sure. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. He hasn’t mentioned anything to you about being sick or anything?”

She shook her head.

“You haven’t noticed anything that might give you some clue?”

Shay thought about the times she’d seen him in the last couple weeks. “No, he had what we thought was a flu bug. It’s been going around—you know a sneeze and cough kind of thing? He stayed out of the office for several days, so I signed him up for the food loop at the church. But this was supposed to be his last night for that because he was feeling so much better.”

Shay gestured toward the house. “I thought he was better. I mean, he looks great, right?”

“He called me last week and asked if I could come home. I said sure, started looking at my calendar, firing off weekends that I could possibly make work but then he said... He told me that what he meant was...could I come home—like for a while?”

“I know he misses you, Jonah, maybe he just wanted you to visit or...”

Jonah started shaking his head, and she realized how silly that sounded.

“He also said there was something he wanted to talk to me about.”

Jonah’s composed features were at odds with the rigid tension emanating from his body. Jonah could be difficult to read, undoubtedly a valuable trait as a lawyer, but something that had always been frustrating for her. But she could see now that he was worried. She had known him very well once, and even though years had passed, maybe Jonah was right that some things didn’t change—not enough anyway.

“What?” Shay stared at him, waiting. “What is it?” she repeated, impatience seeping into her tone. “What did he want to talk to you about?”

“That’s just it, Shay. He hasn’t said anything yet.”

Her mind began whirring with possibilities. “What are we...you—I mean. What are you going to do?”

“Come on, Shay,” he said. “We. In this, at least, we can be a we, right? Gramps is closer to you than anyone else—except maybe Doc. And that’s what I wanted to speak to you about. I know I’m not your favorite person in the world, but I guess I’m asking for your help in...figuring this thing out.”

As much as she wished otherwise, she felt his words working on her as easily as he’d manipulated that ice cream. In spite of her disapproval of his lack of attention toward Caleb, she knew he loved his grandfather. Caleb was the only family Jonah had in the world. In direct opposition to Shay who had both parents, five siblings and a close extended family.

“Of course,” she said without hesitating. “Jonah, yes, anything I can do. What time is his appointment?”

“Doc said he has a full day tomorrow, so we’re going in early before he opens.”

“Okay, if something is wrong with him, Doc is the obvious place to start. Call me after you see him, okay?”

“Absolutely. As soon as I know anything I’ll call.”

* * *

JONAH KICKED UP his speed as he approached the road leading to the Faraway Inn. Instead of calling, he’d decided to go for a run and tell Shay the news about Gramps in person. Running eased his anxiety like nothing else, even though the exercise didn’t seem to be helping much now.

Doc and Gramps had holed up in his office for nearly an hour this morning while Jonah sat in the waiting room and tried not to let his anxiety-ridden imagination get the better of him. Then Gramps had come out and announced that Doc was sending him to see a heart specialist in Anchorage—in three weeks. Amazing how a few weeks could suddenly feel like an eternity.

Upon returning home from Doc’s, Gramps said he needed a nap and then promptly disappeared into his room. This caused further angst for Jonah because Gramps didn’t nap, other than dozing off occasionally in his recliner during a ball game—if that counted—and even then it had to be a pretty dull game.

Now, each stride seemed to heighten Jonah’s anxiety as it took him closer to his ex-fiancé—to the woman he had once believed would be his wife and the mother of his children.

Shay...

Seeing her the night before had absolutely tied him in knots. It was difficult to believe that he and Shay had ever believed they could share a life together. She wanted this... Jonah looked around at the rugged countryside that surrounded the remote town of Rankins. Mountains with jagged, snow-covered peaks dotted the skyline, while thick green forest stretched for-seemingly-ever. The view on his other side was of a raw, picturesque, island-dotted coastline with the town of Rankins perched on the shore of a small bay.

Sure, it was postcard pretty, but it was just...nothing. For as far as a person could see, even with binoculars from the ridge on the outskirts above town—the ridge where the Faraway Inn sat. Shay’s Faraway Inn. The inn that had ultimately meant more to her than he had.

Jonah had wanted—wanted still—a high-powered law career, skyscrapers, noise, a penthouse apartment, impractical cars that didn’t have four-wheel drive and snow tires. And yes, he wanted to be successful, make money, and enjoy these finer things in life—the things he knew his late father had wanted for him, too.

Somehow Shay always made him feel like his aspirations were some kind of mortal sin.

The sight and sound of a vehicle going by and then making a u-turn didn’t really register until a horn honked behind him. He looked over his shoulder.

“Jonah?” Shay’s cousin Bering shouted from the window of the mud-spattered black pickup idling toward him.

Jonah jogged back toward him. “Hey, Bering! How’ve you been?”

Bering pulled over, then hopped out and stuck out a hand. “Fantastic, actually.” He added a befuddled kind of head-shake as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

Jonah gripped his friend’s hand. “Yeah, hey, congratulations—in person—on your marriage. Looking forward to meeting your wife, Emily, right? Sorry I couldn’t make it for the ceremony. Gramps told me all about it.”

“I bet he did. And forget about it. I didn’t expect you to come all the way home for it, buddy. But thanks for the uh...the gift. I’m sure Emily sent you a thank-you and all that.”

Jonah grinned. “You’re welcome for the...gift, Bering. I’m glad you’re enjoying...it.”

“Oh, boy, yeah—we are using the heck out that...thing.” Bering looked guilty as he added, “Sorry, Jonah—I don’t even know what...”

Jonah laughed. “I don’t remember what I got for you either, Bering. My assistant took care of it for me.”

They both chuckled, and Jonah realized how good it felt to share a joke with a friend. He didn’t have friends like this back in Chicago. Coworkers, colleagues that he admired, but no true got-your-back kinds of friends like Bering.

“Man, it’s good to lay eyes on you though,” Bering said. “Glad to see city life isn’t making you soft. How long are you in town for?”

“Not sure yet. A few weeks at least.”

“That’s great. We’ll have to get together. By the way, have you heard yet that I’m going to be a dad?”

Jonah felt something wrench hard in his chest. He was happy for his friend of course; it was just being here so close to Shay where he was inundated with these thoughts of their almost-life together that had him feeling a bit envious, he told himself.

“Congratulations, Bering! That’s amazing.”

Neither he nor Bering were much for social media, so over the years they’d mostly kept in touch via the occasional email or phone call—usually on Bering’s part. Suddenly, Jonah felt a little guilty about that.

Bering dipped his head in the direction of his pickup. “Hop in, I’ll buy you breakfast at the Caribou. I’m meeting Tag and Cricket and some of the guys.”

“That sounds good, but, um...I’m not quite finished with my run.” Not to mention that Shay’s older brother, Tag, would be less than thrilled to discover he was back in town.

“Ah, I get it. You headed up to see Shay?”

“I am, but not for the reason you’re probably thinking.”

“I wasn’t thinking anything.” Bering shrugged, but he appeared to be fighting a grin.

Jonah stared at his feet for a few seconds. Maybe it would do him some good to talk to Bering. And he definitely wouldn’t mind seeing some of the guys. He looked back up. “You know what? Breakfast sounds great.”

* * *

“SO, IF MR. TAKAGI CALLS—or shows up—tell him that yes, he can absolutely check in early. His suite is ready and he could be arriving at any time because he’s flying in on his own plane. And you will personally help Mr. Takagi put the koi in the tank and get him anything he needs, okay? We will also be feeding the fish and monitoring the water temperature et cetera, per Mr. Takagi’s instructions. You’ve read them, right?”

“Yes, but Shay, they are goldfish. How difficult can this be?”

“Hannah, they are not mere goldfish.”

Hannah tipped her head and gave Shay a doubtful look.

“For your information—these fish are worth thousands of dollars. There is one that could sell for over ten-thousand alone. It has a rare lipstick pattern.”

Hannah snickered. “Lipstick pattern, huh? I don’t even want to think about how that came to be.”

“Hannah, this is serious.”

“I know.” Hannah nodded, her face now a solemn mask. “I do know, so in my ongoing quest to constantly improve my customer service skills, I am going to assure Mr. Takagi that I will win him as many goldfish as he wants at the next carnival to come through Glacier City. You can get six Ping-Pong balls for a five-spot, and as you’re well aware, my accuracy at the fish frenzy is renowned. And, as a special bonus—for Mr. Takagi only—I can arrange for these fish to all have Hannah James’s personalized Ping-Pong pattern.”

Shay sighed, dipped her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. Then she looked back at her sister and met gold-brown eyes that were a close match to her own, except Hannah’s were now filled with laughter.

“In spite of your lame attempts at fish humor here, you are going to follow all of these instructions, right?”

“Of course,” Hannah said. “But remind me again why we’re going to have the giant goldfish trough out back.”

“We have to keep these fish alive until Mrs. Milner gets her pond and atrium finished. There was a delay in the construction, but Mr. Takagi could only transport the fish now—and he insists on transporting all the rare koi himself. If she didn’t get them now then she would have to wait months for another opportunity, which would add the complication of the winter weather. Mrs. Milner asked if we could keep them here because she doesn’t want them at her house with all the noise and mess of the construction going on.”

Hannah stared back at her and Shay could tell she was trying not to crack a smile.

“Go ahead and say it,” Shay said.

“Okay, I’m thinking about how Bud and Cindy—our goldfish? The ones I won at the school carnival in fourth grade? We had them for nine years in a glass bowl in the middle of the coffee table. Mom and Dad raised six kids in that house. Mittens drank out of the bowl daily and I wasn’t exactly religious about changing the water.” She chuckled. “Remember that time Seth knocked the bowl over and Bud and Cindy were flopping around on the floor? Mittens swatted Bud around a couple times like he was a cat toy and I was sure he was a goner. But I scooped them both up and dropped them in Tag’s glass of water.” She laughed for a few long seconds.

Shay stared back at her blandly, brows arched—prompting her to get to the point.

“I’m thinking the goldfish will be fine, Shay.”

“Hannah, listen to me, if you are going to operate your own place someday—like you tell me you might like to do—then you have to go above and beyond for your guests.” Owning her own hotel had been Hannah’s latest idea in a long list that she’d been compiling during the months of her recovery.

Shay reminded herself to have patience. Hannah was still trying to deal with having her life’s work—her identity—snatched away from her. It had been just over a year since the accident—and the end of her professional skiing career. Her body had healed for the most part, but Shay knew it would be a while before the rest of her completely caught up.

“It’s part of—”

Hannah interrupted. “Shay, I’m kidding. I’m ready for the fish. What is wrong with you, today? You always—well, almost always, think I’m funny.”

Shay stared at her sister, anxiety fluttering in her stomach. Maybe it would help to talk about it. “Don’t say anything to anyone else, okay? I’m waiting for Jonah to call. Caleb—”

“Jonah!” Her voice shot up in tone and volume. “Jonah is here? He’s in town? In Rankins?”

“Yes, to all three of the exact same creatively crafted questions,” Shay answered drily.

Hannah flashed a knowing smile with an exaggerated nod. “I get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why you’re all testy and irritable.”

“Hannah, no, I’m not. Jonah doesn’t have anything—”

Hannah held up a finger. “Hold on just a sec.” She grabbed her phone and tapped out a text. Then she looked back at Shay. “Continue.”

“I’m worried about Caleb. He had an appointment with Doc this morning.”

“Doc? Well, of course you’re worried about Caleb, too, then. But that’s not what’s going on right now. Because when you’re worried you look like this—” Hannah made a ridiculous tight-lipped face that Shay was almost certain she had never made in her life.

“And you get quiet—not snippy. I know. It’s Jonah.”

Shay narrowed her eyes at her little sister.

Hannah met her look and added a one-shoulder shrug daring Shay to dispute her claim.

“Really?” Shay said. “You know, huh? Can you tell what I’m thinking now?”

Hannah winced. “I can actually, and I don’t think it’s very nice to mind-talk to me like that. I would never mind-say something like that to you.”

Hannah reached down and picked up her phone, which had let out a buzz. She looked at the display and grinned. Her fingers flew over the screen again.

“You know I hate it when you text and talk to me. And what are you smiling about?” Shay realized then that her voice did have an edge to it—best to work on that, she told herself, before she inadvertently unleashed on a guest.

“Oh, I’m just excited that I was able to scoop Piper. What do you think is wrong with Caleb? I thought he was getting over that bug. Did he have a relapse or something?”

Shay looked at her quizzically. “Piper?” Piper Davidson was a friend of Hannah’s and the younger sister of Shay’s friend, Laurel. Laurel owned the Rankins Press, the town’s newspaper. Piper wrote the “Happenings” column in addition to being the biggest gossip in town.

Hannah seemed pleased with herself. “I texted Piper asking if she knew that Jonah was back in town, and she texted back saying that she hadn’t heard that yet. So, yay—scoop.”

“And this is news, why?”

“Come on, Shay. Jonah coming home is kind of a big deal. Small-town boy goes off to the big city, has tons of success and makes piles of money. He’s good-looking, he’s a bachelor, he owns a ’69 Boss 429. I can guarantee you that everyone will be talking about this.”

“You know what kind of car he drives?” Shay heard Hannah’s phone buzz again, no doubt Piper with a follow-up question. She hoped it didn’t involve her. After all, it’d been ten years since she and Jonah had broken up, Sometimes though it felt as if it was only yesterday. She and Jonah had been friends throughout their childhood, and it had seemed inevitable when they’d started dating during their senior year of high school. They’d gone away together to the University of Alaska and earned their undergraduate degrees. Jonah proposed soon after he’d found out that he’d been accepted to Yale Law. They’d come home to Rankins to enjoy one more carefree summer with plans to elope in the fall before they moved to Connecticut. Life was as perfect for Shay as it had ever been—before or since.

But then, as that summer was drawing to a close, her world began to unravel.

Shay’s Grandpa Gus died and left her the inn. Shay had spent much of her childhood working at the inn with her grandfather and while it was her dream to have her own hotel one day she hadn’t expected it to be the Faraway Inn.

Shay had been touched and honored and hadn’t felt like she had any choice but to stay in Rankins and take over the business. Grandpa Gus had taught her so much, showered so much love and attention on her. She owed it to her grandfather—to her family, to continue the inn’s success.

Jonah and Shay had been left with two different dreams—two different lives—that couldn’t possibly merge. Hannah asked, “Do you have any idea what’s wrong with Caleb?”

“No, I...no idea...”

“I really hope he’s all right, Shay. You know I love him, too.”

“I do know that, Hannah.” The entire James family adored Caleb.

“So, how did it go when you saw Jonah? Was there weirdness? Or was it like old times?”

“Okay, Hannah, you’re my sister and I love you, but can we not talk about this? About Jonah? I’m anxious for Jonah to call, but it’s only because I’m waiting for some news about Caleb—”

Hannah interrupted, “I can help you there.” Hannah held up her phone so Shay could see the display. “Jonah is at the Cozy Caribou having breakfast right now with Bering and some of the guys. So, I’m guessing that Caleb must be fine or else Jonah wouldn’t be...”

Every vein in Shay’s body seemed to throb at once. Jonah had said that he would call her after Caleb met with Doc, but he was hanging out at the Cozy Caribou instead? Having breakfast? No doubt chowing down on a pile of biscuits and gravy. How was she supposed to help him if he didn’t keep her informed? Why had she been so foolish as to think that he had changed even one bit in this selfish regard?

Shay stood up. “I have to go. Can you handle things while I’m gone?”

Hannah nodded. “Sure. Go kick some lawyer butt. But before you go—that Adele person called again.”

“Adele?”

“Yep.” Hannah looked down at the paper in front of her. “She called last night, too—twice. I told you.”

Shay shook her head, vaguely recalling the conversation. She’d been so distracted after the evening at Caleb’s she didn’t remember the details. “Did you get any details?”

“I tried, but she said she only wanted to talk to you. She said it was very important.”

“I don’t know anyone named Adele. Did she say what it was about?”

“Nope, but I think she’s from Utah. I recognize the area code.”

Hannah would recognize the area code for Utah—she’d spent a lot of time there in her ski-training days. Probably something to do with a reservation. Shay was continually surprised by how often guests thought only the manager could handle their special requests.

“Can you put her name and number on my desk? I’ll call her back later. I don’t have time right now.”

“Will do, but when you get back we need to talk about the staffing issues in the restaurant.”

“Have you had a chance to look over the applicants for the server positions?”

Hannah grimaced. “I have, but there’s not a lot to choose from there. Kyla Randle applied, but we know she was fired from the Cozy Caribou for stealing from the till. Randy Baxter applied, but Shay, he hasn’t showered in three years. There are a few other applicants with literally no experience and/or dicey references—Crystal Scower is a known meth dealer from Glacier City and this other guy who just got out of jail because of some brutal animal cruelty charges.”

“Nope. No way on that last one. I’d rather hire the drug user—but seriously, her name is Crystal and she deals meth?”

“Yes, and I agree—you know what Agnes used to say—if a person isn’t kind to animals then there can’t be much for kindness in there at all.”

“That’s the truth. We’re having open interviews on Friday, so maybe someone will show up then.”

Hannah looked doubtful and Shay felt the same. This was a problem. She was also short at least one more maid and a front desk person. But the restaurant was the most pressing problem. She and Hannah were picking up the slack, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with the tourist season officially upon them.

Shay had not only expanded and remodeled the dining room; she’d hired a professionally trained chef, Javier, who had overhauled the menu. Shay had been skeptical when Javier had introduced a few of the dishes—like honey-glazed salmon and halibut with mango chutney. She would have lost a lot of money betting that the men in this town would never eat “fish with jam,” as her friend Cricket Blackburn had taken to calling the dish.

The Faraway Restaurant was now quite a bit more upscale than Rankins’ other two eateries—the Cozy Caribou and the Top Rock Café. This didn’t include the Donut Den, but her sugar-addicted cousin-in-law Emily was the only person she knew who considered a donut a proper dinner.

Shay hadn’t realized there were quite so many people in Rankins hankering for a fine dining experience. Well, fine dining Rankins-style consisted mainly of changing out of your work clothes before grabbing a bite, but still the restaurant was filling a niche she hadn’t expected.

“Don’t worry—we will figure this out. I need to go, so let’s recap quickly—what are you going to do with the fish if Mr. Takagi shows up?”

Hannah looked skyward and slowly tapped a pink-polished fingertip to her pursed lips before pointing it at Shay. “Lightly bread and panfry?”

“Hannah—”

“Shay, chill—seriously, you need to lighten up. I’ve got this. You can leave the expensive lipstick-kissed koi in my capable hands.”

Shay wasn’t so sure about that, but she picked up her bag and headed out of her office. She had more important matters to attend to, because family trumped everything in her life—even the inn. And she considered Caleb family, so if Jonah thought she hadn’t been thrilled with him last night...well, then he hadn’t seen anything yet.

CHAPTER THREE

THE SUN SHONE bright amongst a smattering of high, fluffy clouds and from the Faraway Inn’s ridge-top location Shay could see the entire town of Rankins below. The Cozy Caribou’s distinctive red roof stood out like a beacon in the heart of its quaint downtown. Normally, on a day like this, she’d soak in the sight, be grateful for the sheer beauty of this place she was lucky enough to call home—but not this morning. Because now, instead of the lovely view and the drive down the hill calming her anger, the time only managed to rile her further.

Breakfast? With his buddies? Shay felt her blood pressure spike anew. Jonah had said he would call her as soon as he learned anything, but he had opted for breakfast instead? Unbelievable...

Shay marched into the Caribou, her eyes sweeping the place until they latched on to the table where Jonah sat, sure enough, shooting the breeze with a bunch of his old compadres—Bering, Cricket Blackburn, Gary Watte, Steve Howard and—Tag? That was a surprise. Could her big brother finally have let go of his animosity toward Jonah? It seemed unlikely. Like her, he’d probably been blindsided. Unlike her, he was too polite to make a scene.

As she headed toward the table, she heard a few greetings and comments in her periphery. She offered only quick replies.

Jonah jumped up from the table as she approached. “Shay, I was going to—”

The table went silent as she interrupted smoothly, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“I—”

“In private.”

All eyes were on her, every mouth shut. Tag asked a question with his eyes and Shay conveyed with a look that yes, she was fine.

Jonah nodded.

She pivoted and headed toward the back of the restaurant and into the area that served as a bar in the afternoons and evenings. The section was closed now and darker than usual in the normally bright space, but she could feel that Jonah was close behind her. Maddening how she still felt so much where he was concerned.

When she was sure they were out of earshot she turned and faced him. “Well?”

“Shay, calm down. I—”

“Calm down? Why wouldn’t I be calm, Jonah? Oh, right, because you’re here eating breakfast with your old posse while I’m up at the inn, concerned and waiting for you to call me with news about your grandfather?”

He opened his mouth but she began firing off more words before he could respond. “Look at me.” She pointed at her face. “See these bags under my eyes? That’s because I barely slept last night. The inn is crazy busy, I’m short-staffed, and I have a guest bringing in valuable live koi that we have promised to take care of—but none of that really matters to me right now, Jonah, because I am worried about Caleb. You remember him? Your grandfather? The man who, outside of my own father and possibly my brothers, is the single most important man to me in the entire world.”

“Did you say koi?” Amusement danced across his face and that spiked a fresh surge of annoyance.

“Yes,” she snapped. He didn’t deserve an explanation.

“Okay... Shay, listen—I was going to call you, but I left my phone—”

She tipped her head down and tapped on her forehead, trying to rein in her temper. “Just tell me what Doc said. That’s all I really want to know anyway.”

“He didn’t say anything definitive. He is sending Gramps to a specialist. His appointment is in three weeks.”

Her eyes shifted upward, connecting with his. “A specialist? What kind of specialist?”

“A cardiologist in Anchorage.”

“A cardiologist? What...? He doesn’t have a heart condition, or any family history of heart disease.” She didn’t care that she was informing him of this like he didn’t already know his own grandfather.

“He had some abnormal test results and Doc wants Gramps to follow up with a doctor in Anchorage.”

“What tests? And you didn’t think this was important enough to share with me? After you specifically asked me yesterday to help you out with this? We were going to be a ‘we’ where your gramps is concerned. Isn’t that what you said?”

Jonah stared into her eyes, and even in the dim light she could see the intensity shooting from their depths—pleading with her to listen. And there was some anger there, too, which she didn’t think she deserved, although she supposed she could dial it down a bit. She’d clearly gotten her message across.

She remained silent, waiting for his explanation.

“Yes, that is what I said. And that is what I want. Shay, I am sorry. I was on my way to see you... When we got home Gramps went into his room to take a nap. So I decided to jog up to the inn and talk to you in person.”

“A nap?” Shay repeated. “Caleb doesn’t nap.”

He pointed at his shoes.

Her eyes drifted down, taking in Jonah’s faded Yale blue t-shirt, gray shorts—and running shoes.

“I was doing that very thing when Bering pulled up behind me, stopped his pickup, and asked if I’d like to join him and some of the guys for breakfast. I agreed, thinking that I’d give you a call on the way over, but Bering didn’t have his phone with him. I’d left my cell phone behind—I don’t like to take it when I run—back in Chicago it’s the only time I have any peace. But, I was going to call you—” he paused and lifted one hand that held a phone, pointing at it with the other “—with Cricket’s phone.”

Shay stayed silent and admitted to herself that this all seemed plausible. The men in this town liked to gather together any chance they had—in packs—like playful dogs.

“I am sorry, okay? This town... It makes me crazy... How did you even know I was here anyway? I’ve only been in the place for maybe fifteen minutes—I haven’t even got my breakfast yet.”

Shay felt her temper deflating slowly like a sad helium balloon. “Okay. I know what it can be like here, with the gossip sometimes, and—”

“No, I should have called you—immediately. I forgot what this town can be like.”

Small-town life was something that had always bothered Jonah. Shay didn’t like the gossip either, hated when it turned cruel or nasty, but she loved this town, loved the support. The strong sense of community in Rankins was constant—something she felt all the time. She thrived on that—giving it as well as getting it. And knowing she could count on that support comforted her like a warm blanket.

“Do you forgive me?”

She exhaled a tired breath. “Yes, of course. And I’m sorry, too. I just want to figure out what’s going on with your gramps. This is really scaring me.”

His hand came up toward her shoulder and Shay anticipated his touch. But he lowered his arm instead, tucking the hand into his pocket.

“So, you’re admitting that you lost your temper?”

“Don’t push it, Jonah.”

He was grinning at her and Shay wished he would stop. A grinning Jonah had gotten her into deep trouble once upon a time. She immediately banished the memories.

If she were honest with herself, she knew she was going to be facing this situation with Caleb on her own now, at least until he consulted with the heart specialist.

Her brain began buzzing with possibilities, some of which she voiced aloud. “So, when are you returning to Chicago? Will you fly back and meet us in Anchorage for the appointment? I’ll have Tag fly us—or Cricket if need be. Do you think I should stay with Caleb at the house until then?”

“No, actually, um...I’m not leaving.”

“What?”

“Remember I told you last night that Gramps had something he wanted to talk to me about?”

“Yes.”

“Apparently there are some issues with his practice, too.”

That knocked her back for a moment. “With his practice? What kind of issues?”

“He has quite a backlog of work and he’s asked me if I could take a look at some cases while I’m here. Help him sort through them and catch up. So I figure I’ll be here at least another month.”

Shay frowned. They both knew that Caleb was meticulous where his practice was concerned. “A backlog? I don’t know anything about this either. I could have found someone to help him. I’ve told him for years he needs to hire a paralegal. And I love Betty, but she’s not a paralegal. Don’t get me wrong—she’s a great typist who knows her way around a legal document, but a paralegal could give him a hand with some of the more technical stuff.”

Jonah took a step closer and lowered his voice. Shay knew he would never want anyone to hear them talking about Gramps not being on top of his game.

“I had a quick look last night. It’s kind of odd because some things are absolutely perfect—classic Caleb Cedar legal perfection. But then, there are others that are just a mess.”

Shay tried to wrap her brain around what he was telling her. Caleb mentioned cutting back once in a while, spending more time fishing and less time “fiddling with the law,” as he liked to refer to his practice, but she knew he’d never really retire. He loved the law as much as Jonah did.

He’d been so proud when Jonah had chosen to follow in his footsteps, and he’d been downright giddy when Jonah had been accepted to Yale, his alma mater. Ironic that it was one of Caleb’s proudest moments that had marked the beginning of the end of her and Jonah’s relationship.

Still, one of the biggest differences in her mind between Caleb and Jonah was that Caleb loved other things, too, besides the law—and not just things that could be bought. Caleb loved life.

“So...maybe he is feeling worse than he’s been letting on. What should we do?”

Jonah raised a hand and squeezed the back of his neck.

His movement combined with her own ill-timed inhale resulted in a blast from the Jonah-scented past. He smelled like citrus and sweat and cedar trees. Bittersweet memories stabbed her in the chest—the pain located right in the middle of her heart. She squeezed her eyes shut and Jonah mistook the action.

“Hey, I’m worried, too. But I don’t think there’s much we can do until we know more—other than keep an eye on him, right?”

She opened her eyes. “And I think it’s important for us to stay positive, because although he says he’s fine—this still has to be scary—even for someone as strong as your gramps. My mom went through some of this last year—heart attack and then bypass surgery. It was terrifying.”

Jonah nodded. “Thank you, Shay. I can’t tell you how much this means to me. Your help and everything you do for him... I—”

Shay wondered...did he just not hear the me’s and I’s?

“—know this isn’t about me. You love Gramps as much as I do. And he loves you—probably more than he does me. Hell, you certainly deserve his love more than I do.”

Well, she thought as her eyes traveled up to meet his again, that statement was a nice surprise, and strengthened her hope that he shared her level of concern.

Jonah’s lips turned up into a grin, one side higher than the other. Her stomach tightened and then stirred with anxiety, because he was reminding her too much of the boy she fell in love with—too much of the man she used to love. Too much...Old Jonah.

“That’s not true, Jonah. It’s that I’m the one who’s here.” She broke eye contact and tried to focus on the giant moose rack hanging on the wall behind him. “We’ll figure this out. I’m not going anywhere—you know that.”

His eyes somehow lured hers back in again. But now they were hard and flat and she was a little startled by the change in his expression.

“Yeah, that much I do know, Shay. I learned that a long time ago—the hard way.”

His tone was bland, but she felt the words like a sharp bite. She took a step back—his bitterness toward her a welcome reminder that she was bitter, too.

Goodbye fond memories and heavenly man-scent and good riddance. He blamed her and she blamed him. That was it, in a nutshell, and she certainly was in no mood to rehash old relationship issues that would never—could never—be solved.

She sighed. “Whatever, Jonah—let’s just stay focused on your gramps, okay? Your breakfast is probably getting cold, so I’ll let you get to it. I have to be back at the inn anyway. You’re bringing Gramps to bingo, right?”

“Oh, yeah, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do with my time than play bingo. Gramps said the entire town is atwitter with talk of the record-breaking jackpot.” His mocking pretty well summed up his feelings about Rankins. “And, gosh, there are hundreds of dollars in prizes.” He worked in one of his eye-snaps. “Does he not know how long it takes me to make hundreds of dollars back in Chicago? A matter of minutes. Bingo isn’t exactly my thing, Shay.”

Shay’s jaw fell open. “Jonah, sometimes people just do things because they’re fun, without giving a thought to much else. People enjoy spending time together for the sake of nothing more than that. You’ve been in town for about twenty minutes and you can’t at least go along and pretend to enjoy something—for your gramps’s sake? Did you know your gramps never even keeps his winnings? He always donates them back to whatever cause is being played for.”

“I...” He let out a frustrated groan. “That really did sound bad, didn’t it?”

“Yes, it did.”

“I’m just... I’m out of my league here, Shay.”

Out of his league?

“You grew up in this league, Jonah, remember? And you used to kind of like it. At the very least—you liked some of the people. And you know what? Many of those people still think highly of you and some of them consider you a friend, although why that is I don’t know because I’m almost positive you don’t deserve it. But right now there’s a whole table of them waiting to have breakfast with you, so before you head back there, you might want to rethink that condescending attitude. People will catch on, Jonah. And they won’t like it.”

She turned to leave.

“Shay, wait.” Now he did touch her, reaching out and grabbing her elbow, but she had no problem shrugging him off this time.

He pushed his fingers through his wavy black hair, making it look messy and frustrated, like she felt.

“Look, you’re right. I’m sorry. It’s not that I think I’m better, it’s just being here again—like this...it makes me feel off-balance.” He inhaled a deep breath and then exhaled a sigh. “Of course I’ll go. Gramps is excited about it.”

Shay watched him, waiting. It was a pretty good apology, but... “And...?” she drawled.

He grinned—a sheepish, boyish grin and she had to resist its sneaky attempt to sweeten her mood.

“And, I will have a good attitude. I will do my best to have fun at bingo with Gramps.”

She gave him a short, single nod of satisfaction. “Good. I’ll see you there.”

* * *

“THAT WAS A terrible cast.” Doc clucked his tongue, his lips twitching in amusement.

Caleb yanked on his fishing pole. “Don’t you think I know that? That’s why I’m reeling back in.”

Doc chuckled. “Okay, don’t get all riled up now. But you are a little off your game—you have to admit that. This is the third time you’ve casted and that last one only went about four feet. You sure you’re all right?”

“Yes,” Caleb snapped, “for the third time. I feel fine.”

“I’m not talking about your health. Is something else bothering you?”

“Something besides this piece-of-junk reel my best friend gave me for my birthday, you mean? No.”

“That’s operator error where that expensive, state-of-the-art reel is concerned and you know it.”

Caleb snorted.

Doc executed a perfect cast. “You’re positive? Nothing is bothering you?”

“That’s what I said.”

“That’s your official statement? You’re ready to sign it?”

Caleb moved to face him. “Doc, you been nipping at the schnapps already this morning? It’s not even close to noon yet, and that would be early even for you. If you’ve got something on your mind I wish you would spit it out. I feel like I’m sparring with a cagey client here—and I’m not working today, remember?”

“That reminds me—how did you get out of the house? Where did you tell Jonah you were going?”

“I told him I needed a nap, asked him to turn off the phone and not bother me before noon. Then I climbed out the window.”

Doc belted out a laugh as he slowly worked the lure toward the boat. “You climbed out the window?”

“Yep.” Caleb’s lips curled up with the threat of a smile.

“Till noon, huh? That’s not a nap, that’s a whole night’s sleep.”

“You know I’m not a napper, Doc. Why don’t you tell me how long they usually last?” Caleb bit his line in two and stowed the flasher along with the lure he’d been using in the tackle box.

Doc shrugged. “Mine are usually an hour or two at the most. But let’s get back on track here.”

“I didn’t know we were off of it.”

“So, you’re not feeling the slightest bit guilty?”

Caleb didn’t answer and Doc finally, blessedly, remained silent as he shifted things around in his tackle box.

All that could be heard was the soft lapping of the water against the side of the boat. An eagle sailed overhead and they both looked skyward to watch it. Caleb didn’t know a soul who could stop themselves from pausing to watch a bald eagle fly by. Then he tied a favorite lure to the end of his line.

Eventually he answered, his tone taking a serious turn. “It doesn’t matter. I’m committed. There’s no turning back now.”

“Well, I don’t like it, Caleb. I’m feeling guilty. It’s dishonest, and I’m not a dishonest person.”

“What have you done to feel guilty about?”

“Besides lying to Jonah about what we’re up to today?” Doc fiddled with his own reel for a few seconds and then, instead of casting again, he laid the pole across his thighs. He leaned his head back and stared up at the clouds.

Caleb followed his gaze and marveled at the luscious blue of the sky. Alaska in the summertime, he thought, as he let the sheer beauty of it soak into him—there was nothing like it in the entire world. He used to take weeks off every summer so he and Jonah could enjoy as much of it as possible.

Jonah used to love summers here—fishing, hiking, biking, exploring...surely, being in Rankins now would make him realize how much. And hopefully before this thing was through his grandson would realize some other things, as well.

“Shay,” Doc muttered. “That’s the thing. That’s what I feel bad about. I understand what you’re trying to accomplish as far as Jonah is concerned, but I feel guilty about deceiving Shay. I didn’t think that through when I agreed to this. At the risk of waxing poetic—that woman is a shining example of all that is right with this town. She doesn’t deserve to be dragged into this. And I don’t like being a part of causing her any more pain.”

“Yep, she is a shining example. And, yes,” Caleb confessed, “I’ll admit that has been poking at me a bit, too. But I’m not doing it on purpose, Doc. That girl is like my own granddaughter. I promised Gus if anything ever happened to him that I would watch out for her.” Emotion clogged Caleb’s chest.

It took a minute before he could speak, and when he did he let pride fill his voice. “Gus would be so proud of her, Doc. With what she’s done with the inn—it looks like something from a darn magazine now.”

Gus had loved all of his grandchildren, but Shay had been a little extra special to him. Her love for the inn was one reason certainly, but Caleb always thought it was her personality that so closely mimicked Gus’s that had truly stolen his heart—kind, thoughtful, generous to a fault, but feisty, stubborn and strong-willed at the same time. It had stolen Caleb’s heart—and Jonah’s, too, once upon a time.

Doc smiled wholeheartedly. “Every time I go there I think that same thing. I imagine that ole Gus is smiling down on her every single day. But that’s what I’m saying, Caleb. The devotion Shay has for her family...well, she showers it on you, too. And you’re sure lucky to have it. But now, well you know she’s got to be worried plum out of her mind.”

“Come on, Doc, you think you can make me feel any worse than I already do? I know all of that—everything that you said. I do. But I can’t very well admit all the facts to Jonah, can I? He would never forgive me. He would hightail it back to Chicago faster than this lure can spin.” Caleb held his fishing pole aloft and gestured at the shimmering metal on the end of his line. “And then where would I be?”

Doc nodded his head, puzzling over the situation. “I guess that’s true enough. I only wish there was some way you could do all this and let Shay know.”

Caleb let out a sigh. “Yeah, I wish that, too. But I just have to believe—I do believe, Doc, that what I’m doing is for her. In fact, if I’m being perfectly honest, it’s almost as much for Shay as it is for Jonah. And the truth is I’m not going to live forever. That is a fact, and even as painful as it may be, it’s one my grandson needs to accept—and I’d prefer it to happen sooner rather than later. You know what I mean?”

He cast again and this time his aim was spot on.

CHAPTER FOUR

“B-2,” SHAY CALLED OUT.

“Bwahh-eeek,” the ancient microphone squealed back at her. Probably still upset, Jonah surmised, after being left behind by Elvis on his last tour.

Jonah caught Shay’s gaze and winced with exaggeration. She narrowed her eyes at him and then shouted the sequence again sans microphone.

He chuckled and stamped the appropriate space on his card.

You have got to be kidding me, he thought. No one back in Chicago could conceive of this if they saw him now. His firm billed seven-hundred dollars an hour for his time, and here he was sipping blue-raspberry punch and playing blue-light bingo at the VFW Hall, which also housed other activities for the Rankins Seniors’ Circle. According to Shay, people did this so they could “have fun” and “spend time together.”

He’d promised himself, and Shay, that he would be on his best behavior, but she couldn’t stop him from thinking about his life in Chicago. Couldn’t stop him from thinking about his car—his beloved ’69 Boss 429—garaged and waiting for him... In spite of wishing otherwise, it was going to be a while before he was driving his favorite car again. He stamped another place on his card and continued his cynical meandering—why on earth would he want to solve complicated legal cases and, stamp, drive a near-perfect car when he could play bingo?

“I-20,” Shay called out. Stamp...stamp. He reached across the table with his dauber and marked Gramps’s card. Shay had informed him earlier when she was helping him get set up that his ink-stamper-thing was called a dauber. He’d opened his mouth to make a sarcastic retort and then shut it firmly when he’d caught her warning look.

Although—he glanced up toward the front of the room again—watching Shay do her thing did make the experience a bit more palatable. He had a difficult time not watching her—a problem he’d been plagued with since about the sixth grade.

He grinned at her again and held up his card, pointing with exaggerated excitement at his almost-bingo. She glared.

Jonah reached across the table and stamped Gramps’s card as he was too busy flirting with Mary Beth to pay attention to much else. He noticed the B-4 spot still blank on Mary Beth’s card—that sequence had been called a while ago. And so had N-32... Apparently Gramps’s moves were working, he thought with amusement, continuing to eye Mary Beth’s incomplete card.

He couldn’t stand it. Stamp, stamp and...stamp. There, all caught up.

“What did she say?” Bernice Threck whisper-shouted the words across Jonah toward Erma Neville.

“N-42,” Erma yelled back. “Bernice, why didn’t you wear your hearing aids?”

“Because I’m trying to get Teddy to notice me and how attractive do you think I would be with those things hanging out of my ears?” Bernice looked to Jonah for confirmation. “Right, Jonah?”

Jonah presumed that by “Teddy” Bernice was referring to Doc, who was seated on the other side of her and at least appeared to be keeping up with his card.

Jonah realized that both women were waiting for his response. He opened his mouth to say he knew not what; thankfully he was interrupted by Erma.

“A sight more attractive than those fishing lures you’ve got hanging from your ears right now,” Erma muttered.

Jonah took a drink of his blue-raspberry punch, relieved not to be drawn into the exchange after all.

“What?” Bernice shouted.

“I love to fish,” Doc chimed in loudly. No hearing devices from that quarter either, Jonah hypothesized.

Erma hollered again, “A lot more attractive than having to shout, I’d say.”

Bernice shook her head with disgust. Her long, dangly earrings made such a loud tinkling sound that Jonah had no idea how she could hear anything but that, hearing aids or no.

She yelled into Jonah’s ear again, “Well, that’s ridiculous, Erma. There’s not a lot that isn’t more attractive than having gout.”

“B-6,” Shay called loud and clear. Jonah looked up and caught her watching him. Her lips were tugging upwards in that way they did when she was fighting a laugh. So, she thought his predicament was funny, huh? He responded with a look of desperation. She turned and coughed into her hand and Jonah thought it a fairly believable attempt at covering a laugh.

He chuckled. Okay, so yes, he had to admit that he was kind of having fun. He glanced over to where Gramps was now officially canoodling with Mary Beth and decided that sight alone would make a little suffering worthwhile.

“B-6,” Shay repeated, but not quite as forcefully. Jonah wanted to believe it had something to do with his nonverbal teasing.

“Beef stick?” Bernice yelled. “Are they selling beef, too? I love those things—especially the caribou ones. Don’t you, Teddy?” She batted her fake lashes like a 1940s film star. “Erma, will you run and get one for me and Teddy to share?”

“Beef stick,” Erma muttered with a huff. Then she shouted at Bernice, “She said B-6 not beef stick, Bernice. And no, I will not.”

Then she glanced at Jonah. “That’s it—I’m outta here. This is embarrassing and I’m not talking to her anymore, unless she goes and gets her hearing aids. She’s out of control. And you can tell her I said so.”

Someone yelled “bingo” from a table behind them as Erma testily gathered up her cards and moved to a neighboring table. Bernice didn’t notice, her entire body tuned in to Teddy at this point.

Jonah thought this whole spectacle was a little out of control. It was bad enough that Shay had guilted him into being here, but she could have warned him that it doubled as some kind of geriatric singles event.

“I-17,” Shay began calling a new game. Someone must have fixed the vintage mic because the sound was much better—and even louder.

The crowded room seemed to hum with a current of excitement. Apparently, there was nothing like a rousing game of “blue light bingo” to raise community spirits. Jonah had no idea what the “blue light” signified, but he was now playing four cards because Bernice had pretty much ditched hers too, to listen to Doc recite a list of fun facts about gout that was way more information, in Jonah’s opinion, than anyone not currently suffering from the disease needed to know.

“Excuse me, sir, but you’re clearly in violation of the house rules.”

Jonah looked up to see Shay’s sister, Hannah, toss a stack of cards on the table.

“What?”

She settled next to Jonah. “I believe there’s a three-card limit. And the way you’re stamping away over here—I may have to report you to the bingo police.”

Jonah smiled. “That might be a blessing at this point.” Jonah inked up his dauber then held his ink-stained hands aloft.

Hannah laughed and began stamping her card in an attempt to catch up with the current game.

“What in the world are you doing here?” Jonah asked.

“Uh, playing bingo,” Hannah drawled, pointing out the obvious. “Is the smell of all that ink getting to you there, counselor?”

“No. I mean why?”

Hannah raised her brows in a way that spoke clearly of her disapproval—and reminded him of Shay.

“Because it’s a great cause and because I can—I’d never played bingo in my entire life until a few months ago. Can you imagine that? I’ve been missing out and besides, did you not hear that the blue-diamond pot tonight is one-hundred and twelve dollars?”

“Why is everything blue?” Jonah asked waving one hand across the tablescape and holding up his cup of blue raspberry punch with the other. The plastic table cloths were blue, the centerpieces on the table held little vases of blue carnations and baby’s breath, and strings of blue lights were twinkling here and there around the room. Even the ink was blue.

Hannah looked puzzled. “I have absolutely no idea. Maybe it’s Mrs. Wizencroft’s favorite color. She can be a real dragon lady, runs the Seniors’ Circle like it’s the Marine Corps.”

Jonah laughed. “It’s great to see you, Hannah. Gramps told me you were back home. How are you holding up, not being able to ski?”

Hannah reacted with a look like he’d poked her in the ribs with a stick.

“I’m sorry—was that not okay to ask?” Stamp, stamp.

She grinned. “No, actually, it is. It’s just that no one ever asks me that—except Shay. They ask me how I’m doing or how I am, but no one ever asks me about skiing. I think people are afraid that I’m going to break down and start bawling all over them or something.” She tipped her head, looking thoughtful for a second. Then she added, “Which I might. And it feels...how much time have you got?”

Jonah pulled his brows up and made a tsk-ing sound. “No time, actually, I’m super...” He stamped Bernice’s card. “Duper.” He reached over to stamp Doc’s card, who had apparently exhausted the subject of gout, but was now whispering loudly in Erma’s ear about lupus. “Busy,” he added as he then reached over and stamped her card.

Hannah made a big show of protesting. “Well, skipping over the accident and the ensuing realization that my career—my life—was over?” She nodded as if giving herself permission to continue. “Okay, so, skipping over all that and in addition to trying to forgive the drunk driver who almost killed me, I’m learning to enjoy life in a different, more content-based way—as my expensive sports psychologist terms it. Not that I wouldn’t ski competitively again if I could—without risking messing up my body forever, because I would. But the cool thing is that I’m learning and trying to accept, that skiing doesn’t define me as a person.”

“That’s...awesome, Hannah.” And it was. Jonah could only imagine what that kind of recovery entailed. Hannah had been skiing since she was four years old. Even Jonah had to admit that when he thought of Hannah—he couldn’t picture much else but her on a pair of skis.

“Yep, it is.”

“How are you doing that?”

She belted out a laugh before commenting, “Slowly, painfully, and with extreme difficulty. Kind of a ‘two steps forward, one step back’ kind of thing. Shay has been amazing, of course, giving me a job and a place to live and tons of unconditional sister support.”

Her tone was light, but Jonah could hear the pain still lurking in her voice. He wasn’t sure what to say. He stamped his card, and his adopted cards, and struggled to come up with something profound.

Hannah was smiling at him, warmly. “Shay’s right about you, isn’t she?”

He let out a chuckle. “Probably, but in what way are we referring to specifically?”

“About your lawyering, specifically—how important it is to you. You can’t even begin to consider what your life would be like if you couldn’t be an attorney, can you?”

This was true, he thought, and Shay had certainly accused him of putting too much importance on it in the past. But the part he’d never understood was how his focus on his career was so different than how Shay felt about the inn. He’d asked her about it when they’d had that fight a couple years back, but she’d only looked at him like he was the biggest fool on the planet.

He looked up at Shay now. She was such a force in this town. If it was possible to personify a place, Shay did so with the Faraway Inn. She was the Faraway Inn, and how ironic he thought, that the word also described the nature of their relationship; Jonah and Shay—so far away—too far away from each other in every sense that really mattered.

“I’m sure your sister couldn’t imagine her life without the Faraway Inn either.” Jonah could hear the defensive tinge in his tone.

Hannah’s chuckle had him thinking that she could hear it, too. “That’s where you two have some common ground then, isn’t that right, counselor?”

“Common ground?”

“Shay thinks she wouldn’t be who she is without the inn and you probably think you’d just shrivel and die without the ‘attorney at law’ tacked on to the end of your name. Common ground.”

Shay was staring at him again. He met her eyes and felt a shot of awareness course through him because she was smiling at him—that dazzling dimpled smile that used to leave him dumbstruck. He smiled in return, and had to correct his previous thought, because they weren’t so far away in all the ways that mattered—just the ones that would allow them to ever be together again.

Hannah had started talking once more. “...but if there’s one thing I have learned from my experience it’s that true happiness is not about what you do for a living, there’s a lot else besides work, right? That’s what Dr. Vossel keeps telling me anyway. And I’m trying my hardest to believe it.”

Jonah stared blankly at Hannah, taken aback by her statement, not sure if he agreed, but certainly not wanting to disagree in light of everything she’d been through.

Jonah looked around in bafflement as some in the crowd began making a “quack, quack” noise. Then Shay called out something that sounded like “clickety-click.”

Hannah grinned, then reached over and stamped the O-66 space on his card.

“O-66,” she explained and then yelled, “Bingo!”

* * *

SHAY ANNOUNCED A short break and then dabbed the sweat from her brow with a tissue.

Janie handed her a glass of cold punch. “Looks like Caleb and Mary Beth are getting pretty cozy.”

“I noticed that. It’s sweet, huh? They’ve been spending quite a bit of time together lately.”

“Bernice is gunning hard for Doc.”

“I could hear that, too—all the way up here.”

They shared a chuckle.

“Jonah only takes his eyes off of you long enough to stamp an entire table’s worth of bingo cards, which surprisingly doesn’t take him long at all. It’s like he’s a veteran.”

Shay grinned. “You can’t tell but his eyes are pleading with me to come and save him.”

“Save him?”

“Yeah, I kind of, um, encouraged him to come tonight.”

“Ah,” Janie said with a quick grin. “I see. Well, he should be here. It’s not going to kill him to spend a night out with his grandfather.”

They both watched Jonah extricate himself from the table where he’d been sitting for the last hour. Shay had to give him credit for sticking around this long.

“I think he’s heading over here. Are you going to—save him, I mean?”

Shay turned to fiddle with the bingo cage so Jonah couldn’t read her lips. “Not. A. Chance.”

Janie snickered.

“As a matter of fact—I think we both deserve to go home early tonight. Or even better, Janie, how about a drink at the Cozy Caribou? Text our good buddies, Laurel and Emily, and see if we can meet up.”

“But I’m supposed to call the numbers next.”

“Oh, Janie, my dear, sweet cousin-slash-friend—watch and learn.”

“Good evening, ladies,” Jonah said as he approached them.

“Hey, Jonah,” Janie said.

“Hi, having fun?” Shay asked.

“Yes,” he said sarcastically. “I can only think of about eight-thousand things I’d rather be doing.”

Shay frowned.

“Hey,” he continued with a laugh. “I’m here, aren’t I? And I have been stamping away over there like a madman in case you haven’t noticed. I’m probably going to end up with carpal tunnel.”

He’d obviously intended to goad her.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I am kind of having a good time.”

His smile seemed entirely genuine, and Shay felt her insides begin to melt along with her resolve.

“And Gramps is loving it.”

She considered aborting her plan.

“I also find it highly amusing that this is what you choose to do with your free time.”

That comment shifted her right back into action.

“You think it’s funny that we donate our free time to the Seniors’ Circle, where the money earned here tonight goes to the hospital’s home hospice outreach? For hospice care like your nana had before she passed away.”

“Shay, I was joking. I’m—”

“Why can’t you believe it?” Janie interrupted.

Shay answered for him, “Because he’s a rich and important attorney in Chicago and a community game of charity bingo in his Podunk hometown is far beneath him. He’s been spending the entire evening thinking about how much money he’s losing by being here and wondering how lonely his car is at home without him.”

Jonah’s jaw tightened, but Shay noticed he didn’t deny it. “Well, I think the important thing is that I’m here.”

Shay applauded. “Praise for Jonah for spending time with his grandfather.”

“And you know Shay, you don’t have to be so—”

“Honest? I know, it’s a fault.”

Janie’s eyes widened, and then she tried to hide a smile. “I’m just going to go use the ladies’ room before my, uh, shift.” She pointed and walked away.

“I thought we were going to try and get along,” Jonah said, crossing his arms over his chest. “For Gramps’s sake?”

“Yeah, well, you started in with your snarky comments.”

“Why are you so touchy tonight?”

“Look, I’m sorry, Jonah. I—”

“You know, disliking something doesn’t mean you think you’re superior to it—it means you don’t like it. I don’t like Japanese food either, but I don’t think I’m superior to the country of Japan.”

Okay, he had a point there—sort of, but that was irrelevant. She needed to change her tune if she was going to get the rest of the night off and, more to the point, take the big-city attorney down a peg or two.

“Yeah, Jonah, you’re probably right. I’m just stressed, I think. Worried about your gramps, worried about Hannah, I’ve got staffing issues at the inn, and I’m...tired.”

She saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes at her attitude change. Then his shoulders sunk slightly, his face softened as his hands slid into the back pockets of his jeans. She knew sympathy when she saw it.

Reel him in, she told herself—nice and easy.

She reached over and slowly started spinning the basket that contained the little colored balls. They began tumbling over one another. There had been a call a few years ago for an electronic bingo machine, but Shay was glad the Seniors’ Circle had opposed the upgrade. To her, bingo just wouldn’t be the same without the metal basket full of wooden balls making that distinctive clacking noise. The sound also served to alert the troops that the time had come to pipe down, which they were beginning to do already.

Shay leaned over and casually announced the pattern for the coming round. She slowed the rotation of the basket until a ball released and rolled down the chute. Then she reached over and plucked the ball from the little cup where it landed. She picked it up...and made a sound of despair as it slipped through her fingers, landing on the floor and bouncing out of sight. Half of the crowd let out a collective groan, most of the other half looked around in bewilderment, while a smattering of flirtatious yell-talking continued.

Jonah bent to look for the ball while Shay took a step back. After a few seconds Jonah reached down and then promptly stood, proudly holding the ball aloft like a hard-won carnival prize.

“Oh, Jonah, thank you,” she said with relief. “Can you go ahead and read it?” She blinked and squinted and pointed at her eye, motioning that she had something in it.

Jonah obliged. “N-35,” he cooed into the microphone. “N-35.”

“Shoot,” Shay said when he glanced over at her again. She bent to her knees. “Now I dropped my contact. Would you mind calling the next number, too?”

“Uh...sure.” He nodded and then reached over and began spinning the basket. “Like this?” He slowed the rotation until the next ball clicked into position.

“That’s great,” she gushed. “You’re a natural.”

“N-31,” he called smoothly. “N-31.”

Shay crawled farther away as Jonah went ahead with the next sequence and then the next. Finally, she rose and scurried over to where Janie waited by the door with their coats and bags.

“Masterful,” Janie said with a giggle as she handed over Shay’s belongings.

“Thank you.” She executed a quick bow. She looked at Jonah and watched his face transform from bewilderment to understanding as he realized what she was doing. He narrowed his eyes menacingly as Shay gave him two thumbs up. She added a wave over her shoulder as she and Janie strolled out the door.

CHAPTER FIVE

JONAH LOOKED AROUND Gramps’s office with the same degree of bafflement he had ever since he’d arrived. He’d spent the last few days hanging out with Gramps and trying to get a sense of his overall health. He would seem fine one minute and then the next he’d appear tired or weak. His appetite was good; they’d gone out for dinner a couple nights ago where he’d seemed as young and energetic as ever, just as he had at bingo.

Doc had been over to play cards twice and their gin rummy sessions were as heated and jovial as ever. Gramps had been working in the yard yet taking a lot of naps, and two of the days he’d slept for hours.

He’d confessed to Jonah that he didn’t feel up to spending any time in the office, so Jonah had begun sorting through the files on Gramps’s desk, which was a mess—also very unlike him. He’d always advised Jonah that the trouble it took to keep things neat now saved precious time searching for important details later. Appearances suggested to Jonah that Gramps hadn’t been following his own advice. That concerned him, too—as did one of the case files Jonah had found near the bottom of a pile.

“Gramps?” he called into the other room.

The office of Caleb Cedar, attorney at law, was located inside Gramps’s house with an outside entrance for clients. This had been an ideal set-up when Jonah was growing up because he’d been able to hang out there while Gramps was working, yet still enjoy the comforts of home.

Jonah had been nine years old when the small plane carrying his parents to Anchorage for a wedding had crashed. Jonah was supposed to have been with them, but he’d begged to be allowed to stay home with Gramps. His parents had acquiesced and then, less than three hours later, they were dead. Jonah had never recovered from the opposing emotions he’d felt as a child—felt still, even though his rational brain begged him to be rational about these feelings.

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