Woodrose Mountain. RaeAnne Thayne

       Finally she sighed. “All right. Have pity on me, Kat. You might as well come out with it. Brodie knows exactly what he’s doing, doesn’t he, sending you in as his reinforcement?”

       Katherine sniffed. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

       “Ha.” Evie straightened some of the inventory hanging on the wall, just to keep her hands busy and for an outlet to the tension in her shoulders. This was what had kept her restless and uneasy through the night, this terrible fear that she would be forced to choose between her self-preservation or losing a dear, dear friend.

       In a way, Katherine had become a surrogate mother to her. After Cassie’s death, their email correspondence had provided a spark of life, of hope. When Katherine encouraged Evie to come to Colorado for a few weeks as her guest, she had jumped at the chance and instantly fallen in love with the town and the people here.

       Most of them, anyway.

       “You want me to believe Brodie didn’t send you.”

       “No. In fact, he told me not to come.”

       “Yet here you are.”

       “Only because we’re desperate, my dear. Brodie and I both want the absolute best care available for Taryn. Surely you can understand that.”

       Oh, she hated this. “Any parent would want the same.”

       “You’re the best,” Katherine said simply. “Can you blame us for wanting your help?”

       “Whatever I might have once been is a long road away. That’s not me anymore, Katherine. I’m a beader. I make jewelry.”

       “I thought you might make an exception in this case, if not for Brodie than maybe for me and especially for Taryn.”

       The tension in Evie’s shoulders tightened to a fine and exquisite pain. No wonder Katherine made such a good Hope’s Crossing Town Council member. She knew exactly which buttons to push.

       “Not fair,” she murmured.

       “I know.” Katherine looked unapologetic. “My son is not the only ruthless one in the Thorne family.”

       Evie was trapped in an unwinnable dilemma. Refuse and hurt a dear friend. Accept and hurt herself.

       Claire’s approach was a welcome reprieve. “Katherine! I didn’t hear you come in. Hello, darling! How’s Taryn?” she asked instantly.

       Katherine aimed a quick look at Evie and then turned back to Claire. Evie’s tension tightened a few more screws.

       “She’s coming home at the end of the week.”

       Claire’s mouth sagged open and a fierce joy lit up her lovely, serene features. “You’re kidding! I never heard a word. This is fabulous! We need to celebrate! Fireworks, confetti. Throw a parade or something!”

       Katherine shook her head slightly, squeezing Claire’s fingers. “I’m afraid we’re not breaking out the champagne yet. The doctors and therapists in Denver are basically kicking her out of the rehab center, saying they’ve done all they can with her. She’s become what the experts call a recalcitrant patient.”

       A little of Claire’s ebullience faded but she was enough of a natural optimist that Evie could tell she wouldn’t let that minor setback completely dim her happiness. “Well, it will be wonderful to have her back in Hope’s Crossing anyway, right? What can we do? Do you have any idea yet what Brodie’s going to need help with at first?”

       Claire’s instant willingness to step forward, no matter the cost, left Evie feeling small and ashamed. That was always her friend’s way, always thinking about what she could do to help someone else. As much as she loved Claire, sometimes she privately thought her friend carried that whole give-of-yourself thing a little too far.

       Katherine hugged the other woman again. “We don’t know yet. We have so many details to figure out. We’ve been looking ahead to this day for some time. Over the last month or so, Brodie has been having Paul Harris do some work on the house, knock out a couple walls to put in a roll-in shower, install a couple of ramps, a lift system, that sort of thing.”

       Katherine’s gaze slanted quickly toward Evie. That tension gripped her and she drew in a ragged breath. Here we go.

       “Actually, we’re trying to persuade Evie to help us set up a home-based rehab program.”

       Claire gasped, her eyes bright. “Oh, brilliant!”

       “That’s exactly what Brodie and I think. I’m afraid Evie isn’t as convinced.”

       Claire’s gaze zinged from one of them to the other and Evie knew precisely the moment she picked up the undercurrents of tension seething between them.

       “Is it the store?” she asked. “If that’s the case, don’t you worry about us for a moment, Evie. I know I said you’re a beading rock star and all that but we can get along here at the store without you if we have to, especially when it’s for such a good cause. I’ve got a couple of teenage girls who’ve been in a half dozen times since the beginning of the summer with their résumés, looking for part-time work. I can use them until school starts in a few weeks and then figure something else out. You take as long as you need with Taryn.”

       “Actually, that’s one of the reasons I stopped in,” Katherine said smoothly. “I don’t want you to think we’re trying to steal Evie away from String Fever during the rest of the busy summer tourist weeks before the shoulder season. I wanted to offer a trade.”

       When Evie was a girl, their nanny used to take her and her younger sister to the park near their home in Santa Barbara. Lizzie would beg her to come with her on the merry-go-round and Evie would always eventually relent, though she always hated that out-of-control feeling, that whirling, churning, wind-tossed disorder. This conversation felt very much as if she was clinging tightly to the bars, trying to keep from being flung into chaos.

       Claire smiled at Katherine. “Tell me more.”

       “I want to apply for a temporary job as Evie’s substitute here at the store,” Katherine said. “I can even take over some of her classes. That would free her schedule so she can work with my granddaughter.”

       Evie fought the urge to close her eyes. She was well and truly trapped now. Claire looked delighted at the offer. Why wouldn’t she be? Katherine was the founder and original owner of String Fever. She’d sold the store to Claire a few years ago after Claire’s divorce. Nobody in town—least of all Evie—knew more about beads than Katherine.

       “Again, brilliant, Kat. You’re a genius.”

       “I was going to say, positively Machiavellian,” Evie muttered.

       Claire looked startled but Katherine only gave a smug sort of smile. “When I have to be, my dear.”

       “You don’t have to be in this case. I’m a beader now, not a physical therapist,” she repeated for what felt like the umpteenth time. “I have no experience here in Colorado.”

       “But you are licensed, right?”

       “Katherine. You know why I quit.”

       For the first time, she saw a glimmer of sympathy in the older woman’s eyes but it quickly hardened into more of that steely determination. How could Evie blame her? She understood Katherine’s perspective. Her granddaughter was facing months—possibly years—of painful, difficult rehabilitation with no guarantee of a rosy recovery.

       Evie could empathize. She would have done anything to help those she loved, would have traded on every possible friendship to help Liz after the fire that had severely burned her and their mother.

       And Cassie. In the two years she had with her daughter, she had fought fiercely to provide the best possible care but in the end none of her efforts had worked.

       “I know.