style="font-size:15px;"> “Maybe you ought to have a serious conversation with your grandmother.”
Her grip tightened. “Tell me what you meant. What do you know, or think you know?”
Fine, then. “I know I offered to lend her the money for the renovations, but she took out a loan on the house instead. I know Emma works for free half the time. I know the signs of financial trouble. If someone doesn’t step in, namely you, your grandmother could lose this place that means the world to her.”
He yanked his arm free and grabbed the toolbox.
“I’ll come back later and fix this.”
Andrea was actually shaking. She watched Cal’s broad back as he retreated down the hall. She should talk to Grams—no, she should find out first from someone she trusted if there was any truth to Cal’s allegations. Emma. Emma knew everything that went on here.
But even as she thought it, there was a tap on the front door, followed by a quick, “Anyone here?”
“Uncle Nick.” She hurried to the door, to be swept into a hug. Soft whiskers and a scent of peppermint—that was Uncle Nick.
He held her at arm’s length. “Well, if you’re not a sight for sore eyes, Andrea. You’re looking beautiful, as always.”
“And you’re the biggest flatterer in town, as always. You haven’t aged a bit.”
She made the expected response automatically, but it was true. Maybe the beard and hair were a little whiter, his figure in the neat blue suit just a bit stouter, but his cheeks were still rosy and firm as apples. He had an aura of permanence and stability that was very welcome.
“Ah, don’t tell me that. I know better.” He shook his head. “This is a sad business about Rachel.”
She linked her arm with his. “She’s going to make a complete recovery—the doctors have promised. Come into the library. We have to talk.”
He lifted bushy white eyebrows. “Where’s your grandmother?”
“Taking a nap, thank goodness. She needs one, after yesterday’s upsets.”
He nodded, glancing around the room and taking in the computer setup and file cabinets. “It’s sad to see this fine old room turned into an office. What your grandfather would have said, I don’t know.”
There didn’t seem to be an answer to that. She gestured him to a chair, sitting down opposite him.
He was surveying her with shrewd, kind blue eyes. “You’re worried, aren’t you? Tell Uncle Nick about it.”
She had to smile. He wasn’t really their uncle, nor was his name Nick. Caroline had called him that when she was three because to her eyes, James Bendick, Grandfather’s junior partner, looked like St. Nicholas.
“That’s what you always said. And you solved our problems with chocolate and peppermints.”
“It’s a good solution.”
“Not for this problem.” The worry, dissipated for a moment in the pleasure of seeing him, weighed on her again. “Tell me the truth, Uncle Nick. Is Grams in financial trouble?”
“Who told you that? Not your grandmother.” His voice had sharpened.
“No. Cal Burke told me. He seems to think she could lose the house.”
“I’d call that an exaggeration.” He frowned. “And I’m not sure what business it is of his, in any event.”
“Never mind him. Tell me what’s going on. I thought Grandfather left her well-off. I’ve never questioned that.”
“Your grandmother never questioned it, either. Sad to say, maybe she should have.”
“But the properties, his investments…” She couldn’t believe it. “Explain it to me.”
Uncle Nick’s lips puckered. “I’m not sure I should. Your grandmother—”
“Grams is depending on me.” Normally she’d appreciate his discretion, but not now. “I have to know what’s wrong in order to help her.”
He hesitated, looking distressed. Finally he nodded. “Your grandfather decided, a few years before his death, to sell most of his properties. He didn’t want to take care of them.”
“I thought he enjoyed that.” One of her earliest memories was of riding along with Grandpa when he went out the first day of every month to collect the rents from his tenants. That had been her first taste of business, and she’d wanted to be just like him.
Uncle Nick shrugged. “People change. He wanted to invest the money himself.” His gaze dropped. “He wasn’t very good. If only he’d held on to the property until the real estate market went up, your grandmother would be sitting pretty.”
“As it is…” She could hardly take it in. Still, she’d certainly known how determined Grandpa was to do as he chose. Something chilled inside her. She, of all people, knew just how stubborn he could be.
“She has this place left, but not enough to maintain it.” His voice was brisk, as if he didn’t want to dwell on what had been. “I’m not sure how you feel about this idea of theirs to turn the place into an inn.”
“I think it’s a bad move,” she said promptly. “Rachel is a great cook, but she doesn’t know anything about running an inn. And Grams doesn’t need the stress at her age.”
Nick beamed at her as if they were the only two sensible people left on earth. “The practical course is for your grandmother to sell. She could pay off the home equity loan she took for the renovations and have enough to live very comfortably for the rest of her life.”
“I wish she agreed.”
He nodded. “She has her own stubborn streak, that’s for sure. I was worried about her living here alone since your grandfather died, but she’d never listen to me. It was a little better after Rachel moved back, but even so…”
“Cal Burke is out at the barn.” With the phone he never answered. What good did that do?
“Burke.” He repeated the name. “I suppose he’s better than nothing, but what do we know about him?”
Not much. She shared his concern.
“And there have been a rash of thefts. People breaking into isolated farmhouses. You know what this area is like—folks have lived here for generations, never giving a thought that Great-aunt Eva’s dough box might be worth a small fortune to a crooked dealer.”
She almost wished she hadn’t asked, but it was better to face the facts, no matter how unpleasant.
“What are we going to do?” It was good to feel that she had an ally. “Rachel and Grams want me to stay and open the inn. They don’t seem to understand that I have a position I can’t walk away from.”
He patted her hand. “If you make it clear you
