by Carol Ross
“Is he in the hospital?” Shay had visions of the trampled man lying in intensive care with tubes criss-crossing his broken and mangled body.
“No, no, he’s fine. A little banged up and a lot ticked off. He asked who our attorney was and I told him Jonah because you said he’s been handling things for Caleb. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course.”
Hannah went on, “Thankfully, Vince was able to get Clara to back off. With all the thrashing and kicking and probably Clara’s sharp hooves—I’m not sure—but the pond liner was leaking fast. We had to get them out of there. We acted as quick as we could, and we didn’t lose a single koi.”
Shay looked at Hannah and then around the inn, which was busy—good busy. People were milling around, smiling and looking happy. An elderly couple Shay had checked in a few days before greeted her as they walked by. And suddenly Shay had an epiphany: the inn was still standing.
It was in one piece. It hadn’t burned down or blown up or any of the myriad of disasters she’d feared. Was everything perfect? No. But was it ever, really? No. There was always something that didn’t go quite right or that needed her attention. Most of these people probably didn’t even know that there were ornamental Japanese fish being stored in some of the guest rooms.
And she’d survived, too. She’d survived three days with Jonah. And most importantly—she’d survived talking about the past—about the miscarriage, and for the first time in a long time she felt...better about it all.
Shay looked at Hannah and felt the smile bloom across her face. Laughter welled up within her as she thought about Mr. Weird-Sheets going toe to hoof with Clara. She wondered what a fall into a pondful of koi and a fight with an angry moose would do to a person’s vertigo.
She pulled her sister into her arms and hugged her tight for a few long seconds and let the laughter roll.
Hannah backed away and peered at her in astonishment.
“Shay, are you okay?”
“I am better than okay. Hannah. Great job. I am so, so proud of you—all of you. I don’t see how I could have handled things any better myself.”
“Really?” Hannah’s face was a mixture of relief and happiness.
“Absolutely. Really, Hannah—great job. I love you.”
She grinned at Shay and then let loose her own bout of laughter. “Thanks. I love you, too, Shay.”
Something caught her eye on the counter in front of Hannah, an expensive-looking, unfamiliar cell phone with a bright blue case.
“Did you get a new phone?”
“Um, not exactly,” Hannah said, and then changed the subject. “How was your trip?”
* * *
JONAH RETURNED TO find that a letter from Adele’s attorney in Utah had arrived. He read the contents, disappointed at the lack of information contained within. It simply stated that Adele Mason was establishing her claim as the only living descendent of Eli David James. She would be willing to take a DNA test to prove her heritage. There was also a paragraph of legalese informing Jonah that he remained “legally bound” by the confidentiality agreement between he and Ms. Mason.
Shay’s ring tone alerted him to her call.
A smile formed on his lips. He was missing her already even as he dreaded her impending confrontation with Adele Mason.
“Hi,” she said. “I know you’re probably very busy.”
“I would think you’d be the busy one.”
“It has been a little crazy, but Hannah did a great job while I was gone. I’m calling because I may have a legal problem.”
Jonah felt a surge of nerves. Already? he thought. And then, Bring it on.
“This is the strangest thing, Jonah. It’s probably difficult to believe in this day and age but I’ve never been sued before.”
Sued? He hadn’t expected this level of aggression from Adele before she’d even revealed herself. She really was a good actress. But why did Shay sound so calm? Was she in shock?
“I don’t know if anything will come of it, but the guy threatened to take legal action. And he’s an attorney.”
“Who’s an attorney?” Jonah asked slowly.
“Oh, I’m sorry—Mr. Konrad—the guy who fell into the koi pond.”
Jonah felt relief settle inside of him, but he didn’t know why—she would find out soon enough, or he would tell her. “Maybe you’d better start at the beginning.”
She belted out a laugh and did.
By the end of the story Jonah was laughing, too.
“Ugh, that’ll teach me for taking off for three days, right? But it was worth it. I had a fun time, Jonah. And I’m so glad we were able to clear some things up between us.”
“I feel the same.” In spite of the information sitting on the desk in front of him and awaiting her, he wanted to see her now. Would it be weird to ask her out in the midst of all of this chaos? Ethically in a case like this, it wouldn’t be a problem as they could prove a prior relationship status but...
“Caleb and Doc had fun, too—don’t you think?”
“Gramps hasn’t stopped talking about it.”
“That makes it all worthwhile as far as I’m concerned—even this stupid lawsuit. Besides, I don’t think I could have stopped the incident from happening if I’d been here.”
“I don’t think so either, and you’ve got a great attitude about it. Something like this could knock a normal person to their knees.”
“Normally I would be more upset, but in light of everything else in my life it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal. And I don’t feel like much is going to come from the suit, I mean, these kinds of people are usually just out for money, right?”
“Usually.” Jonah silently hoped Adele was one of these people, too.
“There’s no way I can— Oh, hold on a sec, Jonah, I’ve got another call.”
He waited a minute until Shay came back on the line.
“I’ve barely been home long enough to shower and change, and work is already calling,” she explained. “And now, I need to go because someone is at my door.”
“No problem. There’s nothing we can do tonight anyway. Let’s see if he files anything. You said Hannah gave him my name, right?”
“Yes. Thank you. I feel so lucky to have retained such stellar legal counsel.”
“You’re welcome. But Shay, can I ask your advice about something before you go?”
“Shoot. You know you can talk to me about anything.”
“Okay. Do you think it would be a conflict of interest if I asked a client out on a date?”
She paused for so long that Jonah was worried something had happened to the telephone connection.
“Shay?” he asked.
“Jonah, are you...talking about me?”
“Who else would I be talking about?”
“Oh,” she said, and he could hear as she exhaled a breath of relief along with a nervous giggle. “In that case then—um...”
“Shay, I just want to spend some time with you, that’s all.”
“Okay, Jonah, sure.”
“Great,” he said, and he could hear the relief in his own voice now. Jonah glanced at the calendar. Caleb was playing poker with Doc and some of their buddies tomorrow evening. “Tomorrow night?”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
* * *
JANIE HAD KNOCKED on her front door while Shay was still on the phone with Jonah. She opened the door and waved her in as she finished up the call. Janie made herself comfortable on the sofa as the cats began to swarm. Shay hung up and then settled in between cats on the soft cushions.
“I’m gathering things went well on the fishing trip?”
“Yes, pretty well.”
“Tag didn’t do anything stupid?”
“It was touch-and-go there for a while.”
They shared a chuckle. “I was half-expecting them both to come back with black eyes or something.”
“I think most of it was cleared up.” Shay quickly explained the actions a
nd misunderstandings by each of them.
“Wow,” Janie said when she was through and had asked a few questions of her own.
“I know. Do you think it would be crazy for me to go out with him?”
Janie smiled her wise and gentle smile, and flipped a wave of her long red hair over her shoulder. “Not as long as you both know what you’re getting into from the start.”
“Nothing can come of it, I know that—but it just feels good to be with him, in spite of, or maybe partly because of everything we’ve been through... And I told him everything, Janie. So he’s aware nothing could ever come of a relationship with me.”
Janie focused on the cat now curled in her lap. She stroked its smooth gray fur for a moment and then looked at Shay. “Shay, has it ever occurred to you that there are men out there who wouldn’t care that you can’t have children? That Jonah might not care?”
“No, they might say they don’t want kids, but they actually do. Besides, I know Jonah wants kids—we used to talk about it all the time.”
“All young, happy couples talk about having kids. Listen Shay, please don’t take this the wrong way. You’re my cousin, my best friend, and I love you—”
“I love you, too,” she said quickly, knowing that Janie was about to say something she probably wouldn’t like.
“You can have a fulfilled life without having children.”
“Said the woman with four perfect boys.”
“Oh, they are far from perfect. I love them with all of my heart and soul, but I look at you sometimes and imagine what it might be like to have your life—to not have kids.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s just that I had Gareth and Reagan when I was so young, I never really had a chance to be a woman without children. To have the freedom to go where I want and do what I want—to travel to England—or even to the grocery store, whenever I felt like it. To stay up all night and then sleep in...to, to...not fix dinner because I’m not hungry or to fix chicken pesto because I am. And to watch whatever I want on TV—something that doesn’t involve a team and a ball, or a dinosaur or a robot.”
“I’m not... I don’t do any of those things, except maybe the not fixing dinner. I rarely watch TV.”
Janie’s face took on a wry expression. “But you could—that’s my point. For so long you’ve been so focused on what you can’t do that you’ve never taken the time to really enjoy the things that you can. And again, you need to consider the fact there might be someone out there—Jonah even—who wants that, too.”
* * *
EARLY THE NEXT morning Jonah was sitting at Gramps’s desk trying to concentrate on a case, but mostly he was staring out the window and analyzing the wisdom of his impulsive decision to ask Shay to dinner.
He leapt out of his seat when he heard the thud—partly because it surprised him and partly because Francis jumped to her feet with a woof loud enough to burst an eardrum. She charged through the office and into the house, barking maniacally the whole way.
At first, even though it was early, Jonah thought someone must be at the door. Francis wasn’t the best watchdog, used to the comings and goings at the office—welcoming people, in fact. So if she was barking like this, likely it meant that she was excited because someone she knew had arrived.
That notion was short-lived as Francis tore through the house straight to Gramps’s bedroom. She whined and barked as she jumped repeatedly and pawed at the door.
“Francis, off,” Jonah said, trying to get her to move away. But the dog was relentless, her nails clicking away like she fully intended to dig the door down.
“Gramps?” he called out.
And then he heard another sound, like a muffled shout.
He knocked on the door. “Gramps?” He definitely heard a voice. Jonah’s pulse accelerated along with his knocking. “Gramps?” He tried the door. Locked. With Francis going crazy and his worry taking an exponential turn, Jonah threw his shoulder against the door, but it didn’t budge. Stupid, he immediately realized, it was solid oak.
His mind flashed back to locking himself out of his own bedroom as a child and how easily he could get back in—the interior doors all had simple privacy locks. He sprinted back to the office and found a small screwdriver that Gramps used to fix his reading glasses. He ran to the door and slipped the tool into the knob. He freed the lock and quickly opened the door. Francis bounded inside and Jonah followed.
“Gramps?” he yelled.
“Yup, it’s me, son.”
His eyes darted around the room as he tried to take in what he saw—or didn’t see.
“Where are you?”
Francis was whining at the open window, paws up on the sill, tail wagging wildly like the rudder on a storm-tossed ship.
“Out here,” came the reply.
He hurried over and looked out. Gramps was on the ground, leaning against the side of the house with his hands wrapped around one leg just below the knee.
“Gramps, what are you doing down there?”
“Breaking my leg, I think. You’d better call Tag and Doc. Looks like I’m gonna need a ride to the hospital.”
Jonah pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called 911. He headed toward the front door, Francis hot on his heels. He opened it and Francis zipped through like some kind of fuzzy greyhound fresh out of the gate. Jonah dialed Shay as he jogged around the side of the house, quickly filling her in on what had transpired. She agreed to meet them at the hospital.
Jonah stopped and knelt next to Gramps where Francis already pranced by his side, her nose busily sniffing his ear.
“Gramps, what happened? How in the world did you fall out of the window?”
“Well, I, uh, I didn’t fall out...exactly. I actually fell in...sort of.” He let out a pain-filled chuckle. Only Gramps could manage to find humor with a broken leg.
“You fell in?”
“I fell out—climbing back in the window.”
“Climbing back in? What do you mean? Why in the world would you be climbing out the window in the first place?” The acidlike burn of worry nearly made him ill as thoughts of Alzheimer’s and dementia and stories of the wanderings these cruel diseases wrought flashed through his brain.
Please no, he begged, as the realization overtook him that he wanted more time—needed more time—with this wonderful, thoughtful man. Shay was right. He hadn’t been the grandson that Gramps deserved—not even close.
“I forgot my wallet.”
“Your wallet? Gramps, what are you talking about? Why did you crawl out the window in the first place? Were you sleepwalking?”
Gramps grimaced with pain. “No, son, I wasn’t sleepwalking. I wasn’t even asleep. In fact, I haven’t been napping at all since you came home from Chicago. I’ve been crawling out the window so you would think I was napping.”
“Gramps, that’s crazy. What are you—”
“I’ll explain later. I am in a fair amount of pain here.”
Jonah assessed his grandfather warily as something occurred to him; something so impossible he couldn’t even believe he was considering it.
“Gramps, there’s nothing wrong with you, is there?”
“As a matter of fact there is, Jonah. In case you didn’t hear me the first time—I think I’ve broken my leg.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TALK ABOUT A hospital bed confession, Jonah thought, as he and Shay stared down at Gramps from opposite sides of the bed. Thankfully, Gramps was going to be okay—that is, he would be if Jonah didn’t kill him first for the deception he’d admitted to perpetrating. His ankle was broken in two places and he was sporting a bright green plaster cast from just below the knee down, but other than that he was perfectly well.
No heart problem, no dementia, no difficulties at all—except, he was about to face Shay’s wrath. Jonah looked forward to that.
“So, Caleb, you’re not really sick,” Shay began.
“Nope, he’s not,” Jonah interrupted.
&nbs
p; She frowned in his direction, and then looked back at Gramps.
“Let me get this straight—you made this entire thing up to try to get me and Jonah back together?”
Jonah chimed in again. “There’s absolutely nothing else wrong with him, right Gramps? Go ahead and tell her.”
“You could sound a little less disappointed there, dearest Grandson. I do have a broken ankle.” Gramps added a wince and glowered at Jonah. “Which hurts like the dickens, thanks for asking.”
Then he smiled at Shay with his charming, innocent-grandpa best. “And yes to the other question, sweetheart. And it worked, didn’t it?”
He narrowed his eyes at Jonah and added, “You should be thanking me.”
Jonah grimaced. “Thanking you? And you don’t get to be cranky with me here, Gramps. I put my life in Chicago on hold so you could play matchmaker. What you did is...outrageous and...and shameful. Shay and I have both been worried about you to the point of losing sleep. Shay has sacrificed valuable time away from the inn to run errands and cook for you. I’ve been working on your cases, while my own career in Chicago is suffering. All of this and more—while you’ve been climbing out the window to go fishing with Doc and...sneak around with Mary Beth. We’re the ones who’ve—”
Jonah stopped mid-rant. He’d caught the expression on Shay’s face
Jonah could imagine what she was thinking; torn between wanting to hug Caleb because he wasn’t dying from some incurable disease, comfort him because his broken ankle had to hurt, and strangle him for the worry he’d caused them both. That’s certainly what he was thinking.
“Caleb, Jonah and I are not back together,” she stated flatly.
“Maybe not yet, but you’re heading there. Got a hot date tonight from what I’ve heard.”
