Finally he pulled up in front of Dennie and Annalee’s house. He cut the engine and jumped out, stalked up to the door, knocked and waited. Shifting from one foot to the other, he tried not to let this feel like the end of something.

Dennie came and opened the door, and he pulled the screen door wide and stepped into the dim hallway.

“She’s in the back bedroom,” Dennie said, keeping her voice down. “Come on.”

He followed her through the quiet house and through a doorway at the end of the hall. It was dark in the room, with just a small glow of sunshine coming through the drawn curtains, but he could vaguely make out a shape under the pile of quilts in the old high bed.

“Summer Grace?”

“No. No, no, no.” Her voice was rusty, as if it hadn’t been used in a long while. Or as if she’d been crying all night.

His chest went tight.

He moved closer, sat on the edge of the bed and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” he said gently. “You okay, baby?”

There were several long, quiet moments, then a hard, wrenching sob.

“Ah, it’ll be okay,” he soothed. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”

Suddenly she sat up, her hair disheveled, and even in the faint light he could see how red and swollen her eyes were. “No, it will not be okay. It has never been okay. Not ever! I’ve been stuffing it down for too damn long, but that’s the reality of it. And God, Den, I told you not to call him. How could you?”

The last came out on a small sob, and his heart broke a little to see her like this. To have some idea of what she was feeling. And to know that some of it, at least, was his fault.

He reached out to stroke her wild hair from her cheek, but she waved his hand away. “Don’t. I can’t stand it—the sympathy. Don’t you think I know how fucked up this is? How fucked up I am?” She sniffed, wiped her nose on her sleeve. Muttered, “I didn’t even like that cat very much.”

“Come on, sweetheart. No one liked that cat much. And we both know this is about more than just the cat.”

“Of course it fucking is!” Her eyes were blazing. “It always has been. I thought I’d learned the lesson well: everyone leaves, one way or another. Everyone. Even you.”

“Summer Grace, I’m right here.”

She closed her eyes, bit her lip. “For now. But I’ve just had another lesson in impermanence. I don’t think I can stand one more. And fuck it all, I don’t want you to see me like this. Please go.”

“I can’t leave you like this.”

Her eyes flew open. “Just go!” she yelled, then collapsed into tears.

Dennie rushed to her and wrapped her in her arms. Looking up at Jamie, Dennie whispered. “Go, Jamie.”

He got up, feeling shell-shocked. He took a step back, watching Summer Grace, his Summer Grace, sob while Dennie held her. And felt as if the world had been pulled out from under his feet.

He turned and left the room, left the house, got into his truck and drove off.

*   *   *

HE’D BEEN BACK at the shop for most of the day. Duff had looked at him questioningly when he arrived, but instead of asking questions his cousin had just given him a fond slap on the back and gone next door to keep an eye on the crew doing the build-out.

Since then Jamie had spent a lot of time staring at the computer screen, fielded a few phone calls, but none of it had stuck in his brain. It felt as if his brain were stuck, worrying, wondering if Summer Grace was okay. If there was something more he could do. If he could only get her to talk to him.

He knew that Madame’s sudden death was bringing her old loss issues up and shoving them right in her face—that much was obvious. But why was it taking such a toll on her? Had she never really dealt with losing her brother? She’d seemed okay all these years. Stronger than most. But maybe she’d simply held it all inside, covering it up with the tough-girl act.

That had to be it. Which meant that, given time, she’d get through this. But did he give her the space she’d asked for, or did he step in and make her let him help?

He got to his feet, muttered, “God fucking damn it, I’ve never backed down from a challenge before.”

“What’s that, cousin?” Duff asked, coming through the office door.

“Duff, there are times in life when you just have to go after what you want.”

“Agreed. That’s why I’m here. I was about to go over the architectural plans for the two big truck bays, but I see you have other things on your mind. I’ll mull it over myself. You need to go to your girl, I imagine?”

Jamie nodded.

“I’ll hold down the fort. Shop closes at seven anyway.”

“Good. Thanks.”

Duff shrugged. No problem.” He moved past Jamie and sat in his chair, stared at the computer and pulled up the web browser. “Can I get porn on this thing, cousin?”

Jamie shook his head, almost cracking a smile. “Get whatever you want, cousin. That’s . . . I think that’s the point today, maybe.”

Duff turned with a raised brow but didn’t say anything as Jamie grabbed his keys and left.

It seemed to take forever to get back over to Dennie and Annalee’s house, but soon he parked in front of their pretty white and yellow clapboard. He jumped out and tried to steady his pulse as he moved up the front steps. Before he even reached the door Dennie’s grandmother Annalee opened it. The woman was tiny, with snowy white hair and piercing turquoise eyes. It had been years since he last saw her, but even though there were a few more lines on her face, she still exuded that classic Southern woman thing—grace and charm yet tough as nails. Warm but formidable. He’d always liked her.

“My apologies, Mrs. Harper, but I’m here to see Summer Grace. Whether she wants to see me or not.”

Annalee opened the screen door and gestured for him to come in. As he stepped into the house, she stopped him with a surprisingly strong grip on his arm.

“You talk to our girl, y’hear me, Jamie Stewart-Greer? You make her see that death is just the way of the world and something we all have to cope with. Because the shape she’s in now is the only other option, and that’s not a life. You make her want a life, y’hear me, son?”

He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I am sure gonna try, Ms. Annalee.”

Annalee patted his arm. “That’s a good boy.” He didn’t even flinch at the title. “Now you get me my red hat out of the hall closet so I can get to my dinner meet-up. I’ll be in my car. You tell my granddaughter to come with me.”

He nodded, opening the closet and reaching in to retrieve the requested red hat. He would have been grinning like mad if this had been any other day, if he were there with any other purpose. Annalee Harper was one sassy lady.

“Here you go, ma’am.”

She smiled and gave him one last pat on the arm before she took the offered hat and walked out the door.

He stood for several moments, trying to get his thoughts in order. He’d come racing over here on a mission, but Annalee’s words stuck in his head, making him realize how important this was. He shook his hands out before walking down to the end of the hall.

The room was still dark. Dennie was sitting in a kitchen chair pulled close to the bed, trying to get Summer Grace to drink some tea.

“Come on, honey. You haven’t had anything but a little water since you got here.”

Summer Grace rolled over in the bed and turned her back to her friend. Jamie took a step into the room, and Dennie looked up when one of the old floorboards squeaked under his booted foot.

“Oh. You’re here.”

“Your grandmother asked me to tell you you’re going to her dinner meeting with her.”

“Her Red Hat Society? Right—it’s Monday.”

“Sounds like she meant it, Dennie.”

Dennie stood, pushing the cup of tea into his hands. “Okay, then. Guess I’m going. I guess . . .”