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.”
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