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“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 (#u3b3ed160-f68a-5521-99f2-caea1b7e1364)
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...”
