By noon the next day, when Mel pulled her Audi in behind Gabe’s giant black pickup on the dusty ranch road, all her doubts had resurfaced. She really shouldn’t be here, yet somehow, once again, she’d let him convince her they needed to…
What?
She didn’t even know what this meeting was about. Some men were just plain dangerous to a woman’s heart and mind and, well, general equilibrium. Gabe Abernathy was the premiere example of that kind of man. She ought to just start up the car again and drive away.
But she’d said she would meet him here and she was a woman who followed through on her commitments.
At least, that was the excuse she gave herself as she emerged from the car and climbed the dirt path that led to the spot by the creek under the cottonwoods where they’d first met. She crested the gentle rise of the hill and there he was, below her. He sat on a blanket beneath the dappled shade of a cottonwood, next to a picnic basket, facing the creek.
How was she supposed to stand firm against him when he showed up with a picnic—and at the spot where they’d met and shared their first kiss, no less?
Squaring her shoulders and reminding herself that she had to be strong, she descended the hill.
* * *
Gabe heard boots on gravel. Rising, he turned to greet her.
Damn, she was beautiful, in rolled-cuff jeans that fit her curvy hips like a glove, those cute short boots she favored and a silky shirt splashed with a swirling blend of pink, purple and jewel blue. “Hi.”
She stopped on the edge of the blanket. “Hey.” Her gemstone eyes spoke of doubts and her plush mouth twisted down at the corners.
Refusing to feel the least discouraged, he offered a hand. She took it with obvious reluctance. He reminded himself that at least she was here, her hand cool and soft in his.
“Come on,” he coaxed. “Sit down.” She dropped to the blanket and he settled in beside her. A few feet away, Little Big Bear Creek burbled cheerfully. The sweet, high warble of a meadowlark rose from the wild grass somewhere nearby and Ambling A cattle grazed beyond the fence across the rippling ribbon of water. The sky was cloudless, an endless sheet of pale blue. No rain in the offing today. “Malone makes this chicken salad with grapes and pecans and all kinds of stuff you wouldn’t think of when you think chicken salad.”
At last, she gave him a smile. Suddenly, the world was a brighter place. “I love chicken salad with grapes and pecans.”
“On crusty bread, with chips and a wine cooler?”
“Perfect.”
He flipped open the basket and served her lunch. Except for the intermittent serenade of that lone meadowlark and the babbling of the creek, they ate in silence. As each minute passed, his feeling of dread increased.
He’d asked her to come here to the exact spot where they’d met so that he could tell her he’d fallen in love with her. But she held him at a distance with her careful silence. He had a sinking suspicion that a declaration of love from him right now would have her leaping to her feet and sprinting for her car.
Clearly, he needed to slow the hell down to baby steps with her. No sense in making his big declaration if it was only going to send her running for the hills.
“That was so good,” she said, once he’d put the remains of the food back in the basket. She took another sip from her wine cooler, carefully set the half-empty bottle on the blanket beside her and leaned back on her hands. Almost shyly, she turned those deep blue eyes his way. “So, um, you had something you wanted to talk to me about?” Her mouth was softly parted. He wanted to kiss her so bad, to wrap her up good and tight in his arms and never let her go.
But she gave off a definite vibe, one that said he’d better keep his lips and grabby hands to himself. “I can’t stop thinking of our night together. I really have missed you, Mel. I want another chance. I want to spend more time with you.”
She tugged at a loose thread on the blanket and dragged her gaze up slowly to collide with his. “Have you forgotten how you couldn’t wait to get rid of me that night?”
“You have to know, that wasn’t about you.”
“You acted like it was about me. When I tried to apologize for upsetting you, you said it wasn’t my fault. But your eyes were cold and when I said I should go, you couldn’t hustle me out the door fast enough.”
He wanted to keep denying his own behavior, but he knew that wouldn’t cut it with her. “You’re right, about all of it. Will you let me explain?”
She answered with a half shrug. “Go ahead, then.”
“It got to me, got to me bad. Just the idea that my family might have a whole other story I never knew a damn thing about, that my Gramps might have loved someone else before he loved my great-grandmother, that my grandpa Alexander might have a half sister he’s never met. It was a lot to process and I did kind of blame you—you know, like that old saying. I wanted to shoot the messenger.
“I knew at the time I was in the wrong, but I wanted so bad not to know what you’d just told me. It was completely unfair of me, Mel, to blame you for telling me something I didn’t want to hear. And I really am sorry. I only hope that maybe you’ll forgive me for being such a jerk about it.”
For several uncomfortable seconds, she simply stared at him. And then slowly, she nodded. “Okay, yeah.” The word was more breath than sound. “I do understand. It’s hard information even for me to deal with—that the Winona Cobbs I know and love in Rust Creek Falls might have this tragic past she’s never said a word about. Gabe, I didn’t even want that diary. Lately, I feel like this heavy burden has been laid on me. I try to ignore it, but it nags at me, you know? The questions echo in my head. What really happened all those years ago? And did it happen to strangers—or to your great-grandfather and my Winona?”
He caught her hand. She let him, so he went further and wove their fingers together.
She held his gaze. She wasn’t smiling. “You didn’t call.”
“No, I didn’t. And that was wrong, too.” A humorless laugh escaped him. “And then you finally called me. You were so sweet.”
“You weren’t.” She scowled at him.
“Most men are fools.” Especially when it comes to love. He thought that last part, but somehow kept himself from saying it. “I’m sorry, Mel. I’m beggin’ for another chance here, but I have to admit, if you say no, I can’t really blame you.”
She squeezed his hand. He told himself that had to be a good sign. When she spoke, though, he wasn’t so sure. “I just… Gabe, I don’t want to give my heart again. I really don’t. My heart broke when I lost my parents. Todd broke it a second time. My poor heart just doesn’t have another break left in it.”
He wanted to swear he would never hurt her—but he already had, hadn’t he? And as for the whole love thing, well, how could he bear to say he loved her when she’d just said she was through with love? He brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles one by one.
His hope rose again when she leaned her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her, brushed his cheek against her silky hair and breathed in her perfect scent of vanilla and roses.
She glanced up at him with a sad little sigh. “Oh, Gabe. If any man could tempt me now, that man would be you.”
He pressed his lips to her hair. “How ’bout this, then? Could you be with me for right now? You’re not going anywhere for months, right? There’s plenty of time for us to just be together. We could see where it goes between us. All I would ask is that you try to keep an open mind and heart.”
“It seems so dangerous…”
“Most good things involve an element of risk.”
She chuckled. It was the sweetest sound. “Gabriel Abernathy, you are far too convincing, you know that?” They stared at each other.
He dared to suggest, “So, that’s a yes?”
When she didn’t say no, he saw his chance and lowered his mouth to hers. She didn’t pull away.
He gathered her closer, grateful for this, at least—the feel of her small, soft body in his arms again at last, for her kiss that was sweet and tender, with a promise of more.
He lifted his head sooner than he wanted to, just to show her he understood the meaning of restraint. “Yes?” he asked again.
Her eyes were deep as oceans. “What do you do to me?”
He smoothed an errant lock of hair away from that irresistible mouth of hers. “Everything. I hope. If you’ll let me.”
She put a hand to his chest. He wrapped his fingers around it. “Okay. We’ll, um, try again.” And she dipped her head a little shyly. “Whatever that means.”
He tipped up her chin so she was looking in his eyes again. “How about we start with right now and the whole afternoon and on into the evening?”
She laughed and playfully pushed him away. “You’re not wasting any time.”
“Hell, no.”
“It is nice here.” She lay back on the blanket, laced her fingers behind her head and stared up at the shifting leaves of the cottonwood overhead. “So the plan is to just hang out by the creek, you mean?”
He thought of Gramps and the other information he’d uncovered yesterday. She’d just agreed to give him another chance. He almost wanted to forget the diary and the sad story it contained.
But she’d asked to meet Gramps. And for a moment, Gramps had blasted through the wall of his own silence. He’d commanded Gabe to bring her to Snowy Mountain. There seemed no choice now but to go forward, to do what he could to solve the old mystery. “Well, there is something else I’ve been meaning to talk to you about…”
She’d shifted her gaze from the leaves above to his face. “What’s going on?”
He stretched out beside her, bracing up on an elbow so he could look down at her and hold her gaze. “I’ve been out to see Gramps twice since our night together—last Friday and then again yesterday afternoon. I really have been thinking about the story of Josiah and Winona and the missing baby Beatrix.”
“Did something…happen?”
“Not on Friday. I told him about the diary that day, and a little about you. He didn’t respond. I got nothing, you know? It’s the way he is most times now, like the lights are on, but nobody’s home.”
She reached up and laid her hand on the side of his face. “I’m sorry. I know how much you love him. It must be so hard.”
He caught her fingers and kissed the tips of them. “Yeah—but anyway, then you called on Saturday and I was a jerk. After that, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about what an idiot I am and about Gramps, too, and the story of the diary. So I went to see him again. I talked about you and the diary. He was silent. I got nothing. But then I got up to go and he spoke. Just a few words. He said, ‘Bring her to me.’”
A small gasp escaped her. “He meant me?”
“Yeah. He meant you.” Gabe almost told her the rest of it.
Don’t give up on love, Gramps had commanded.
But no. The way Gabe saw it, at this point those words were just for him. She wasn’t ready to hear them yet.
She sat up. “Does that mean you’re taking me to meet him?”
He nodded. “If you still want to meet him.”
“Oh, Gabe. Yes. I do.”
“There’s more…”
Her eyes widened. “Tell me.”
“All right. I started thinking of ways to find out if the Abernathys of Rust Creek Falls might have anything to do with my family. At lunch yesterday, I asked my dad and my grandfather about the family history in Bronco and about my great-great-grandparents, Gramps’s mother and father. My dad and Grandpa Alexander weren’t very helpful. They both insisted that the Abernathys have ‘always’ lived in Bronco. Grandpa Alexander didn’t remember a lot about Josiah’s parents, except that they were kind of distant and strict. Later, it occurred to me that property sales are a matter of public record. And if my family showed up here seventy-plus years ago and bought the ranch that is now our Ambling A, there would have been a deed, proof of the sale and when it happened.”
“You mean, at the county offices somewhere?”
“Well, as it turns out, I didn’t have to look that far. My grandfather has the information in the safe in the office at the main house. He’s very proud of the fact that it’s a fireproof safe, impervious to burglars and whatever. Also, he assures me the deed is duly recorded at the assessor’s office.”
“So then, when did your family acquire the Ambling A here in Bronco?”
“In 1920, my great-great-great-grandfather, a wealthy speculator from back east, bought up several parcels from poor farmers who’d gone bust after claiming the land in the land run a few years earlier.”
“Wait. So then, you’re saying your family has owned the ranch here in Bronco since 1920? Are you trying to say that proves they aren’t the Abernathys who vanished from Rust Creek Falls?”
“No.”
She sat up and slapped him playfully on the arm. “Gabe. What are you getting at?”
He sat up, too. “My family has owned the land for a hundred years. But they didn’t incorporate it into the Ambling A until seventy-five years ago. My great-great-grandfather, Josiah Sr., did that.”
Her sweet mouth dropped open. “That would have been about the time the Abernathys in Rust Creek Falls disappeared.”
He grinned. “It doesn’t really prove anything.”
“I know. But it does kind of give me the shivers.”
“Yeah. I have to admit, I got a shiver or two myself when I saw that the dates match up.”
“So then, you told your grandfather about the diary?”
“I didn’t need to. As an Abernathy heir, I’m expected to take an interest in the ranch and everything else my family owns and/or controls. I also have the combination to the safe. My grandfather Alexander didn’t question me when I said I wanted to look over the articles of incorporation.”
“I think what you’re telling me is that you didn’t explain to your grandfather about the diary because you were afraid that if you shared the real reason for your interest, you might upset him. Is that right?”
“Pretty much. You saw how I reacted when you told me—and really, didn’t we just agree that nothing is in any way proven yet?”
“Fine. I get it. Until we have a better idea of what really happened in the past and if your family might be somehow involved, why take the chance of getting everyone stirred up?”
“Yeah. I’m thinking that at this point the story of the diary ought to be on a need-to-know basis.”
She was frowning. But then she nodded. “Okay, that makes sense—yet you did tell Josiah.”
“Because he might be the key. Somewhere deep down, he might know everything. As for my dad and my grandfather, though, I really do think they’re completely in the dark about what happened seventy-plus years ago. I’m not ready to go there yet with them.”
“Yet. Meaning you will in the future?”
“Meaning, let’s talk to Gramps first and then take it from there.”
She was tugging on that loose thread in the blanket again. “I feel a little guilty. I confess, I can’t make myself ask Winona if she might be the woman in the diary.”
He stilled her hand. “It’s done, Mel. I talked to Gramps about the old story. He said to bring you to see him.”
“You’re braver than I am.”
“Naw. But I am curious. Very curious. So? You up for meeting my Gramps today?”
* * *
Mel wanted to pick up the diary on the way to Snowy Mountain West. That worked for Gabe. He needed to have a look at the old book and the letter, anyway.
He followed her to her place, where Homer greeted them at the door. The kitten jumped on Gabe’s boot and started chewing on it. “Hey, buddy. Easy there…” He picked up the little guy and Homer instantly began to purr. “I think he really likes me.”
“No doubt about it.” Mel dropped her keys on the entry table, crossed the room to the bed and took a worn, leather-bound volume from the bedside drawer.
Gabe set the kitten down and Homer darted away. With the diary pressed against her chest and apprehension in her eyes, Mel returned to where Gabe stood at the door.
“Do I get to see it?” he asked when she stopped in front of him. She nodded and held it out. He took it. “Bejeweled, no less.”
“Fancy, huh?”
He traced the tooled letter A centered on the cover. Different-colored stones encircled it. He opened the book to the first page.
“Is the handwriting familiar?” she asked.
“No. But I don’t recall ever really noticing Gramps’s handwriting.”
“Maybe if we could get a sample of something he wrote, we could take it and the diary to a handwriting expert.” She gazed up at him through hopeful eyes, her soft cheeks pink with excitement.
“Maybe.”
Her expression turned rueful. “I guess I shouldn’t go getting ahead of myself here, huh?”
She looked so sweet and sincere. He wanted to drop the old diary on the table next to the keys she’d put there and pull her into his arms. They could spend the day in her bed instead of trying to coax information from an old man who rarely spoke anymore.
Could she read his thoughts in his eyes? It sure seemed like it. “Oh, Gabe,” she whispered. “I keep saying I’m leaving at the end of the year, that I don’t want to get anything started with you, but this past week, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Even though I was mad at you, I really did miss you. So much.”
He set the book down by the keys, after all, and eased a hand around the silky nape of her neck beneath the glorious tumble of her long, blond hair. “And I missed you—everything about you. From the sound of your laugh to that sharp tongue you’ve got. And then there are those unforgettable blue eyes.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “And this naughty dimple right here. I missed this dimple so damn much.”
The dimple in question deepened with her radiant smile. “Yeah?”
“No doubt about it.” How could he resist? He swooped in and claimed that gorgeous mouth.
She swayed closer and he wrapped her up tight in his arms, her scent of flowers and sweet vanilla making his head spin and his blood run hot in his veins. The kiss kind of took on a life of its own. She opened to him and he swept his tongue into the wet heat beyond her parted lips. He could have stood there, kissing her endlessly, into the next decade and beyond.
But finally, she pulled back a fraction and drew in a slow breath. “Okay. Enough of your amazing, distracting kisses, Gabe Abernathy. We’re on a mission today. I want to meet your great-grandfather. Please?”
Regretfully, he set her away from him and picked up the diary. “All right.”
She hesitated. “I didn’t show you the letter. Do you want to read that first?”
“Later. Right now, let’s just go.” She picked up her keys. He caught her hand. “You’re riding with me.”
Did he expect the usual pushback? Yep. But he was pleasantly surprised when she said, “Fair enough. But I do need one of these keys to lock the door.”
“I’ll allow that.” With a finger, he eased a heavy lock of hair behind her ear. And then he couldn’t resist bending closer, brushing his lips across hers just one more time.
She made the sweetest, softest little sound of pleasure, like a moan that got caught on a sigh—and then she pressed her hand with the keys in it against his chest. “We can’t stand here all day, kissing at the front door.”
He brushed his mouth across hers a second time. “Oh, no?”
She gave another sweet sigh—and then pushed against his chest a little harder. “Out the door, mister. Now.”
* * *
Gabe felt a rising sense of anticipation as he ushered Mel into the reception area at Snowy Mountain West.
“This is nice.” She gave him one of those glowing smiles of hers. “It’s open and inviting.”
“Snowy Mountain is the best around. Especially for memory care. The environment is secure and comfortable with open rooms and wide hallways that are easy to get around in. Residents are monitored round-the-clock. Staff-to-patient ratio is excellent, too.”
“Hi, Gabe.” Linda gave him a wave from behind the front desk. She glanced down at the big laptop screen on the desk. “Let’s see…ah. Josiah has just finished his supervised afternoon walk. He’ll be in his room.”
“Great.” Gabe turned to Mel. “I just want to go see how he’s doing first, before I introduce you.” He gestured at a sofa and chairs near a picture window. “Have a seat. I’ll come right back for you.”
“Sure.” Mel exchanged smiles with Linda and took one of the chairs.
Gabe found Gramps in his rooms, as promised, sitting quietly in his recliner. “Hey.” He bent close. “How are you doing today, Gramps?”
As usual, Gramps gave no response. His shirttail had come out of his belt on one side and his collar was slightly askew.
Gabe gently tucked in the loose section of shirt and tugged the collar straight. “There. You look great. And today, you’re about to meet the woman you asked me to bring to you—you remember, don’t you? Her name is Mel Driscoll and she’s the one, Gramps. But remember, she’s not ready for love yet. So don’t tell her that I know she’s the one for me.” Gabe dared to look into those hazel eyes then.
Nothing. He saw nothing at all.
And that hurt. It hurt like hell every single time he had to face anew that the man who’d taught him how to be a man was never really coming back. Gabe would gladly offer up his big house and the fortune he’d made for himself in the past decade just to have his Gramps grin and give him a wink the way he used to do.
“Don’t move,” Gabe said with forced cheer. “I’ll be right back.”
As he retraced his steps to the welcome area, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. What if the sight of the diary upset the old man? Now and then, Gramps did get agitated. He would shout nonsense, even throw things. Gabe would have to call the staff to settle him down. Gramps had never hurt anyone physically, but it always broke Gabe’s heart to see the calmest, kindest man he’d ever known lose control.
Mel had the diary. She held it close to her body, same as she had back at her apartment, as she rose and came toward him. When she got to him, she gazed up at him searchingly. “You look…unsure. Did something happen?”
“No. It’s a day like any other day. He’s in his room, staring into space. You really shouldn’t get your hopes up that you’ll find out much from him.”
“I understand.”
No, she didn’t. But she would soon enough. “Okay, then. This way…”
Gramps was right where Gabe had left him, sitting motionless in his favorite chair, his eyes blank and staring.
“Gramps, this is the woman I told you about yesterday. This is Mel.”
After no response from Josiah, Mel said, “I’m so pleased to get to meet you, Mr.—”
“Call him Josiah.”
“Um. Josiah, then. Hi, Josiah.” She gave the expressionless old man her prettiest smile, after which she sat where Gabe indicated, on the love seat across from Gramps. Gabe sat beside her. She held out the diary and started to say something, but then set it down on the coffee table and turned to Gabe. “I’m not sure how to begin…”
He doubted it would matter what she said. But she was here now, and they were set on a course. There was nothing else to do but proceed. “I already told him the basic story you told me. He didn’t respond. You never know, though. Maybe if you tell him, the story will get through.”
“Yes. All right.” She launched into a brief version of the ill-fated love affair between Winona Cobbs and the young man with the same name as Gramps. “Winona had a baby,” she said, holding out the diary again, explaining that the whole story was inside, including a letter tucked in the binding, written by Josiah Abernathy, who was also the author of the diary itself. “The letter says the lost baby didn’t die, after all, but was somehow taken by Josiah’s parents and given up for adoption. The letter claims Josiah knew who the adoptive parents were. Josiah, would you like to see the letter?”
Gramps didn’t answer. He didn’t even move. His eyes seemed focused on nothing and everything at once.
Mel shot a worried glance in Gabe’s direction.
What could he say? “Sorry. I don’t think he’s going to be responding today.” He reached across the distance between the love seat and the recliner and clasped Gramps’s shoulder. His old bones seemed to poke right through his skin. “Okay, Gramps. Maybe some other day?” Gabe started to stand.
Mel’s light fingers brushed the back of his hand. “Let’s stay. Just for a little while.”
“He’s not going to suddenly have anything to say.” Irritation gave his tone a cold edge. He was angry at his own foolishness to have brought her here, made her a witness to a helpless old man’s painfully diminished capacity for even the simplest sort of human interaction.
Her smile was as sad as it was angelic. “I get it. But we’re here. It seems rude to just get up and run out.” That cute dimple in her cheek kind of winked at him. “Sometimes, when I go to see Winona, I have a tall glass of water or a cup of tea and we just sit, you know, not saying a word, nice and quiet, enjoying the moment of being there. Together.”
This woman. She drove him a little bit crazy, what with wanting her so much and trying not to lose hope that she would ever be his. She also bugged the crap out of him now and then. In addition, she kind of amazed him. Not a lot of women would want to hang around for any longer than necessary with an old man who rarely spoke and stared blankly at nothing for hours on end.
Gabe couldn’t help but grin. “You want a tall glass of water, is that what you’re saying?”
“Water would be perfect, Gabe. Thank you.”
The room had a tiny rudimentary kitchen area—a bit of counter, a sink, cabinets containing plastic glasses and plates, a drawer with some flatware. There was also a mini fridge with an ice maker in the dinky freezer area. Gabe took down three glasses, dropped some ice cubes in each and filled them with water.
He carried them back to the sitting area and deposited them on the coffee table.
Mel pushed one over in front of Josiah and one in front of Gabe’s seat. The third, she sipped from. “Thank you, Gabe. Very refreshing.”
He wanted to grab her and kiss her for being so sweet about this, for wanting to sit and visit with an old man whose visiting days were behind him. “You’re welcome.” He dropped down beside her and drank from his own glass.
Mel relaxed against the cushions and glanced around. Her gaze landed on a large wedding portrait on the wall by the window, behind Gramps’s chair.
“That’s Gramps and Great-Grandma Cora on their wedding day,” Gabe said. Gramps wore a baggy suit with enormous lapels. His bride wore a forties-style satin dress with a long, white veil.
Mel frowned a little. “They look so serious.”
They did, as a matter of fact. “Great-Grandma Cora was a quiet woman,” he said. “It was hard sometimes to know what she was thinking. She made the best buttermilk biscuits, though. I’ve never tasted any to compare. And she played the piano. Holidays, we’d gather ’round, including all my uncles and aunts and cousins. Great-Grandma would play Christmas carols and we’d all join in singing.”
“My mom played the piano.” Mel’s eyes shone bright. “She was talented, a natural musician. I thought, since my mom had a talent for music, that of course, I would play, too.”
“Do you?”
She laughed. The sound was sweet and kind of goofy, too. It tugged on a tender place down inside him. “Nope.” She popped the p. “Frankly, I suck at it. I mean, we are talking no musical talent whatsoever.”
He grinned at her. When he glanced across the coffee table, it seemed to him that Gramps had settled more comfortably into his big chair. He still stared into nowhere, his plastic glass of ice water untouched in front of him, but he seemed more relaxed about it, somehow.
The strange little visit continued in the same vein. Mel noted personal items around Gramps’s room and Gabe explained their significance. She talked more about her mom and dad. It was so obvious she’d loved them very much and the loss of them remained fresh and painful for her.
Gramps didn’t say a single word. He never made eye contact with Mel or with Gabe. But somehow, it felt like he was there with them, enjoying a nice visit, a little small talk and a cool drink.
If Gabe hadn’t already been in love with the woman sitting next to him, he would have fallen right then, on that sunny Monday afternoon in his great-grandfather’s quiet living room at Snowy Mountain Senior Care. She was not only sharp and smart and strong. Mel had a good heart, a deep and natural kindness that made her even more beautiful than her pretty face and curvy little body.
They ended up staying for over an hour. When they got up to leave, Josiah had yet to respond to their presence in any way beyond seeming to relax slightly in his chair. He sat silent, his arms stretched out, resting on the chair arms.
As Mel rose, she took the diary in one hand. With the other, she reached across the coffee table to give the back of Gramps’s hand a quick, fond touch. “I’m so pleased to have met you, Josiah.”
It happened right then. Gramps blinked two times and turned his hand over, palm up. His bony fingers closed around Mel’s. Gabe saw it happen and heard Mel’s tiny gasp. He felt a burst of pure joy—that Gramps had responded, that he saw Mel, even liked her.
But then alarm jangled through him. Had Gramps frightened her?
No. Her blue gaze met Gabe’s and she smiled her dazzling smile. “Do you see?”
Gabe nodded, relieved Gramps hadn’t scared her, glad to see her pleasure at the old man’s reaction. “I do.”
Mel turned her bright glance to Josiah again.
But the moment of connection had already passed. Josiah had released her. His hand lay limp—palm still turned up, fingers curled inward like a dying leaf.
“Josiah?” Mel asked softly, with the sweetest, saddest note of fading hope. “Come back…”
But Gramps’s face gave her nothing. His curled hand didn’t move again.
“Love you, Gramps,” said Gabe quietly, hating the resignation in his own voice. “See you soon.”