I did. I was halfway jealous of that.”
“Your grandmother didn’t say anything about her dying when I called. I thought your mom must just be away on a trip or something.”
“Don’t feel bad. I know she’s dead and I feel the same way. I can’t quite believe I won’t turn a corner and bump into her.”
He hesitated, then studied her with a gaze filled with compassion. “Do you want to talk about it or should we move on to another topic?”
“To be honest, I’m not ready to talk about it yet. She had cancer and things didn’t go well, practically from the beginning, and...” She couldn’t bring herself to say the rest, that she was terrified her own future was destined to follow the same path.
“It’s an awful disease,” he said quietly. “And it’s really difficult to watch a loved one suffer.”
“You have no idea,” she said softly, then stood up abruptly. “Look, I have to catch the four-thirty ferry to the mainland and I really do need to talk to my grandmother about you staying before I go. Not that you being here is a problem, because it’s not, Luke. Really. I just have to be sure you’re not the tip of the iceberg and that hordes of other guests aren’t descending without warning. There’s a lot going on around here right now and, believe me, more unexpected visitors are not a complication I can handle.”
“My offer to find another place is still good,” he said. “I don’t want to add to whatever stress you’re under. I get what it’s like when things start piling up. Big or little, it doesn’t matter. Sooner or later, it’s just too much.”
Hearing the real sympathy in his voice, she fought back tears again. She shook her head, this time with more certainty. “No, stay. Please. Just be prepared for anything to happen. Once my daughter, Kelsey, gets here in a few hours, we may give new meaning to the phrase ‘dysfunctional family.’”
He smiled at that. “You’re not scaring me, if that’s what you’re trying to do. As it happens, I know quite a lot about dysfunctional families. I’ve recently taken a crash course.”
She studied him curiously. “Do you want to talk about that?”
“Nope. I want to forget about it, at least for a little while.”
“You realize we might not have much to say if we keep putting topics off limits,” she said.
“Oh, I suspect we’ll think of something. The weather’s always safe enough.”
She grinned. “At this time of year? The Chamber of Commerce brochures claim it’s always sunny and mild.”
“Except when it’s wet and chilly,” he countered.
“I’m pretty sure they never mention that.”
“But you and I don’t work for the Chamber of Commerce. We can be candid.” His expression sobered. “You can be honest with me, Hannah. You’re sure this is okay, me staying here?”
“I’m sure,” she said, this time without hesitation.
The truth was that the more she thought about it, the more she wanted him to stay. She had a feeling that having another rational adult around might be the only thing that would keep her from going off the deep end before all these family crises were resolved. All she had to do was make sure her already prancing hormones didn’t get any crazy ideas. Falling for Luke Stevens for the second time in her life—especially right now—would be so far beyond stupid there wasn’t even an adequate word to describe it.
Chapter 4
Instead of peace and serenity, Luke concluded he was smack in the middle of some Matthews family drama. He’d heard Hannah’s raised voice not two minutes after she’d left him on the porch. Whatever she’d said, though, hadn’t especially daunted her grandmother. Jenny Matthews had held her own. He couldn’t hear the words, but they’d matched each other in heat and determination. He had to admire the feistiness in both of them, but especially in Grandma Jenny. Too many of his senior patients were cowed by family members. Clearly that wasn’t the case here.
Ten minutes after the battle had died down, Hannah had stormed out of the house looking like a thundercloud, gotten behind the wheel of his rental car, which was almost an exact duplicate of her rental car, and tried to start the engine. Naturally the key hadn’t worked. She’d gotten out, kicked a tire, then glanced at the car beside it and apparently grasped her mistake. A minute later she’d squealed out of the driveway at a speed that had him wincing. She hadn’t acknowledged his existence with so much as a wave. He gathered things hadn’t gone her way with her grandmother.
As soon as she was out of sight, the screen door opened and Jenny slipped outside. “That girl’s going to get a ticket or run into a ditch if she keeps on driving like that,” she said disapprovingly.
“She seems upset,” he noted as the woman settled into the rocker beside his and poured herself a glass of lemonade, then grabbed the last cookie. Luke barely contained a sigh at the loss. He’d had plans for that cookie, even after all the others he’d eaten.
“I think her mood has something to do with her daughter,” she said, glancing sideways at him.
Luke chuckled. “And I think it might have something to do with you. You trying to put something over on her, Mrs. Matthews?”
“I told you to call me Grandma Jenny,” she said testily, then slanted a look at him. “Why would I be trying to put anything over on her?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. So far, here’s what I’ve got. You want Hannah to come back here and take over the inn. She doesn’t want to. You figured having a paying guest—me—would force her to stick it out here for a while, maybe start getting used to the idea.”
Jenny didn’t bother trying to deny it. “Think you’re smart, don’t you?”
“Far from it, but I know a con artist when I meet one. Is this just about you not wanting to sell this place because it’s been your home for all these years?”
She gave him a scathing look. “It is not,” she said emphatically. “I know that’s what Hannah thinks, too, but this is about her. She’s been living in New York for twenty years now, but she’s not happy.”
Luke bit back a comment. Hannah had seemed happy enough to him until she’d found out he was staying here. Then, again, they hadn’t done a lot of catching up before that.
“Oh, she thinks she is,” Grandma Jenny continued, “because she’s busy every second of every day, dealing with all sorts of powerful clients and going out to fancy dinners and the theater and hosting elegant parties in the hottest clubs. She sends the clippings from the newspaper down here, so I’ll be impressed with how successful she is, and I am. I’m real proud of her, but career success isn’t all there is to life.”
“Maybe not, but it doesn’t sound like a bad life to me,” he remarked. “Especially if it’s the one she wants.”
“It’s bad, if at the end of the day she goes home to an empty apartment and a cold bed. Her daughter’s clear across the country at Stanford. Her husband, who wasn’t worth much to begin with, is long gone, every bit as irresponsible
