was also—indirectly—the reason Matty had been conceived. One evening a few months into Carolina’s work for the Harrows, Wyatt’s gran had taken a sudden turn for the worse and spiked a high fever. She had ended up in the ICU with pneumonia and little chance of recovering. In his grief, Wyatt had turned to Carolina for comfort.
Carolina breathed deeply as memories flooded over her. Eva had managed to fight off a bad infection, although it was touch and go there for a while. She was one of the strongest people Carolina had ever had the privilege of knowing, but the woman had been ninety-six at the time of her injury and there was only so much recovery she could make, especially considering how quickly her dementia was changing her world for the worse.
But Wyatt hadn’t been ready to let her go then—or even now, apparently. Her heart welled as she watched him interact with her. He was holding Eva’s hand and speaking in a loud, animated tone of voice. Carolina was fairly certain from Eva’s blank-eyed, slack-featured expression that she did not recognize Wyatt at all.
Still, she appeared to be listening to him intently and wasn’t pulling away from his touch, so it was at least the semblance of a good day for her.
“Did I tell you about the donkey Johnny and I rescued? You remember I told you about Johnny, right? He’s the teenager I’m mentoring. Anyway, the whole thing with the donkey was so funny. We pulled him out of the mud bog he was stuck in, and I kid you not, Gran, that animal grinned from ear to ear when we freed him. A donkey smiling. Can you imagine? And you should have heard him braying a thank-you.”
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