Hide in Plain Sight

And this wasn’t a selfish thing. He wanted a sense of whether he should speak to Andrea about her grandmother. Seemed to him the answer was yes, although that might just be his need to do something.

Two years ago, he’d have found it laughable to think he’d be so concerned about an elderly woman who wasn’t even a relative, but he hadn’t been much of a human being, either, back then. Now—well, he cared about Katherine Unger.

Katherine was kind, proud and too stubborn to ask for help even when she needed it. She’d be appalled, probably, if she realized how much he’d learned about her concerns just by listening. If she knew he intended to talk to Andrea, she’d be outraged.

But someone had to. Emma Zook could, but she might be too much in awe of Katherine to do it. So he would. He reached the stairs and pulled out a hammer. He’d been watching for an opportunity to speak to Andrea alone since she’d returned from the hospital, but she’d been holed up in the second-floor family quarters. Maybe a little noise would draw her out.

Sure enough, it didn’t take more than a few hearty blows with the hammer before Andrea appeared at the top of the stairs, looking annoyed. She marched down to him.

“What are you doing?” She’d exchanged the pants and jacket she’d been wearing this morning for a pair of dark jeans and a green top that matched her eyes. “I’m trying to do some work upstairs.”

“Sorry. You brought work with you?”

“Of course. I couldn’t just walk out in the middle of the week.”

Even when rushing to her sister’s side, she hadn’t left the job that seemed so important to her. She reminded him of himself, the way he used to be. That probably went a long way toward explaining why she annoyed him so much. He wasn’t too fond of that guy.

He rested his elbow on the banister. “Wouldn’t your boss give you a break under the circumstances?”

For a moment she hesitated, and he could almost read her thoughts. She had the kind of superior who wouldn’t, as a matter of fact, and she didn’t want to admit it.

“I didn’t ask,” she said finally. “I have responsibilities, and I meet them.” She frowned. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Katherine asked me to take care of this loose place in the banister.” He wiggled the carved wood gently, mindful of its delicate reeding. “I had time to get to it this afternoon.”

“I didn’t realize you work for my grandmother.”

“I don’t. I’m just being neighborly.” He still hadn’t figured out the best approach. “Look, I know this is none of my business—”

“But it’s not going to stop you,” she finished for him. “All right. You won’t be content until you have your say, so get it over with.” She planted one hand on the railing, standing up a step so that their faces were level.

“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“I try not to.” A slight frown appeared between her brows. “Does that bother you?”

“On the contrary, it makes it easier.” If she wanted it straight from the hip, she’d get it. “Your grandmother and sister have been running themselves ragged, trying to get the inn ready. They needed help even before Rachel was hurt, but now it’s worse. With Rachel in the hospital, your grandmother shouldn’t be in the house alone. Did she tell you she’s spotted a prowler out in the grounds recently?”

She sent him a startled glance, hand tightening on the railing. “No. Did she call the police?”

“By the time they got here, the person was long gone.” He shrugged. “They didn’t take it too seriously, figuring it was just someone curious about the inn. Still, there have been some minor incidents of vandalism in the area lately and a few break-ins. I’ve been trying to keep an eye on things. But she shouldn’t be staying here at night by herself.”

“You’re right about that.” She sounded faintly bewildered that she was agreeing with him. “As for the rest, I’m not sure how best to help her.”

He was surprised that she was taking it so well, but perhaps she’d been giving some thought to the problem. She just hadn’t come to the right conclusion yet.

“Move in, take over for Rachel, get the inn up and running,” he said promptly. “Your grandmother can’t do it by herself.”

“My job—”

“—can get along without you for a while.”

“You don’t know that.” If her glare had been a blow, it would have knocked him over. “I’d be risking a lot to stay here now.”

“I get it. I had bosses like that once.” He had a feeling he’d been that kind of a boss.

“Then you should understand. Maybe I can hire someone to help out.”

He shook his head. “I’m not saying more workers wouldn’t make things go faster, but what’s needed is someone to oversee the whole project. Your grandmother isn’t up to that anymore.”

“You think I don’t know that?” She fired up instantly. “She shouldn’t be attempting something so ambitious at her age. She ought to just relax and enjoy life.”

“How is she supposed to do that? What’s she going to live on, air?” He clamped his mouth shut. He’d gone too far, even though his intentions were good.

“What are you implying?” She grabbed his arm to keep him from stepping away. “My grandmother doesn’t need to worry about money.”

Was she putting on a front?

“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.”