“No, thanks.” The tea had been soothing, but the thought of food held no appeal. She knew this was only going to get worse once she started chemo in early January. Jack was worried about her lack of appetite and seemed determined to keep her from losing any more weight than she already had.

“I picked up those iced raisin cookies you like at the grocery store,” he called back, obviously trying to tempt her.

“Not interested, but thanks.” She wasn’t unappreciative, but she didn’t know how she’d manage a lunch of soup, let alone adding cookies.

Jack stuck his head out of the kitchen. A smudge of powdered sugar ringed his lips as he frowned at her in consternation.

“Jack,” she protested, struggling not to laugh. “Cookies aren’t on your diet.”

“Who told you I ate those cookies?” His gaze narrowed.

“Come here and I’ll show you,” she teased, motioning him forward.

He walked in and Olivia held her arms open, inviting him into her embrace. When he bent forward, she sat up and tapped his lips, murmuring “sugar,” then kissed him.

When the kiss ended, Jack eased away. “Yes, I’m your sugar,” he said and she laughed. With a deep sigh, he looked at her. “That was nice.” He cleared his throat. “In fact, it was very nice…”

“I liked it too,” she told him softly. “Do I have powdered sugar on my lips now?” she asked with a smile.

“No.” He gave a guilty start. “I only ate one.”

“One?” Olivia had tasted those cookies from the time she was a youngster and eating just one would’ve been impossible. Besides, her husband had a notorious sweet tooth.

“One,” he said again, then glanced at his watch. “In the last ten minutes, I only had one.”

Olivia smiled again. No point getting upset. After Jack’s heart attack, she’d watched his diet religiously although she tried to resist nagging. Following her divorce it had taken her nearly twenty years to fall in love again and she was determined not to lose Jack any earlier than she had to.

“I’m being careful,” he promised, almost as if he was reading her thoughts. “I exercised this morning, and I had oatmeal for breakfast.”

“Good boy.”

He rolled his eyes. “The person who needs to eat these sweets is you.” He sat on the footstool and gazed at her, worry tightening his expression. Then he took both her hands in his own. “Will you try to eat something?”

She sighed.

“Please,” he coaxed.

“I’ll have soup.” Because she loved him, Olivia was willing to make the effort, although even the thought of soup or cookies—or anything else—made her feel queasy.

“Tomato?”

“Vegetable beef.”

“I’ll stay until you’re finished,” Jack said.

“Honey…”

“Don’t you mean sugar?” he asked, grinning. “Anyway, no objections allowed.”

“Yes, oh, great and mighty one.” It was important to him to prove that he was capable of handling this stress without turning to alcohol. Sobriety was hard-won for Jack. She knew he’d faltered when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She’d been badly thrown herself. Now, on the other side of surgery, she was confident they’d both survive; she thanked God for that.

While Jack prepared her luncheon tray, Olivia closed her eyes, lulled by the warm sunshine. It seemed only seconds later that he returned, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of soup, two cookies and a small vase with a single rose. He’d even taken the time to fold a linen napkin.

“Have you been watching the Home Decorating channel again?” she teased.

“I thought the rose would brighten your day.” He reached for her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Now, eat.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.” He sat next to her until she’d finished the entire bowl of soup and even nibbled at one of the cookies.

“Satisfied?” she asked. She simply couldn’t eat another bite.

“Yes.” He brought the tray to the kitchen and when he came back, he’d put on his long raincoat, although he seemed reluctant to leave her. “I’ll get home as soon as I can.”

“Jack, I’m fine.”

“Grace is coming over?”

Olivia nodded. “She should be here in an hour or two. And Pastor Flemming said he’d drop by later this afternoon.”

“Good.”

Between Jack, her daughter, her mother, Grace and her brother, Will, she was hardly ever alone. Olivia didn’t mind being by herself, but she understood that this was their way of showing how much they loved her.

A few minutes later, Jack left for the newspaper office, and Olivia settled down with a new women’s fiction title Grace had recommended. The doorbell chimed. When she opened the front door, she was delighted to see Pastor Flemming.

“I hope I didn’t come at a bad time,” he said.

“Not at all,” Olivia told him as they walked into the living room.

“I realize I told you I’d come around four when I talked to you on the phone yesterday, but I had a free hour and thought I’d visit now, if that’s convenient.”

“It’s fine.” Olivia had hoped to take a nap before Grace arrived, but she could go without one. Napping in the middle of the day could easily become addictive, and she couldn’t allow that. As she’d joked to her husband, it wouldn’t look good if she started yawning in court.

“Please sit down.” Olivia gestured toward the chair across from her own.

“How are you feeling?” Dave asked.

“Better, thanks.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He reached for his Bible and Olivia saw his wristwatch fall to the carpet. Frowning, Pastor Flemming picked it up. “There’s a problem with the clasp. I’ll need to have this repaired.”

“It’s a lovely watch.” Even to Olivia’s untrained eye, this was an expensive one. It seemed well-worn and well-loved; perhaps it had come from his father or grandfather.

“Thank you.” He appeared to be flustered by her compliment and quickly changed the subject. The visit lasted about thirty minutes, long enough to drink yet another cup of tea, and after a short prayer, Pastor Flemming left, first returning their cups to the kitchen.

Olivia did get some reading done before Grace arrived. Much as she looked forward to seeing her friend, she also enjoyed the hour or so of solitude, although more than once she’d almost drifted off as she read.

“Can I get you anything?” Grace asked the instant she stepped inside. Her eyes were somber with concern. “You look tired.”

“I am.”

“Then take a nap.”

“I’d like to, but…what if it becomes a habit?”

Grace shook her head. “Olivia. Your body’s telling you it needs rest. For heaven’s sake, listen to your body!”

This was sensible advice. “I’ll only sleep for an hour.”

“Sleep until you’re ready to wake up.” Grace walked ahead of her into the bedroom to pull back the covers.

“I’ll start dinner while you’re resting,” she said.

“You don’t have to do that,” Olivia told her as she got into bed.

“I know, but I want to.”

Olivia didn’t argue. Like Jack, Grace needed to feel useful. She settled the covers over Olivia and tucked them around her shoulders. Then she drew the curtains, and as quietly as possible, tiptoed out of the room.

Olivia nestled against the thick down pillows and closed her eyes, savoring the indulgence of sleeping in the middle of the day.

Tired as she was, she assumed she’d immediately fall asleep. Instead, her mind took a series of unexpected twists and turns. It struck her as odd that Pastor Flemming would show up unannounced instead of at the time he’d previously set. She’d never known him to do that before.

Although he’d been solicitous and caring, Olivia was left with the distinct impression that something was troubling him. He seemed unusually rushed and unfocused, eager to be about his business.

After fifteen minutes, Olivia realized trying to sleep was pointless. She folded back the blankets and climbed out of bed.

Grace met her in the hallway, hands propped on her hips. “What are you doing up so soon?” she scolded.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why not? You were about to keel over from exhaustion when I got here.”

Olivia wished she could put her concern about Dave Flemming into words. A visit from the pastor had been a gesture of kindness. It shouldn’t matter that he’d arrived at a time other than the one he’d arranged earlier. Yet it was more than that. She wondered what he was so worried about that he’d actually lost track of the conversation twice.

“Why don’t I make us some tea,” Grace suggested.

“Please.”

They sat in the kitchen, across the round oak table from each other. “Anything new?” Grace asked.

“Well, yes. The pathology report came back and it confirmed that the cancer didn’t spread to my lymph nodes.”

“Oh.” Grace raised both hands to her mouth. “That’s so great!”

Smiling, Olivia nodded. “It’s an incredible relief. Now, what about you—anything new at the library?”

Grace launched into a description of a board meeting she’d attended, and her plans for a Christmas story program for kids. She also mentioned that her new tenant, Faith Beckwith, whom they’d both known in high school, although she’d been Faith Carroll then, had visited the library. Olivia remembered that Will had done the same thing some time ago—and it wasn’t to check out books.

“My brother hasn’t made any inappropriate appearances, has he?” As much as Olivia loved Will, if he tried to get between Grace and Cliff again, she’d never forgive him. Will had begun an Internet—what? dalliance? fling? certainly not a relationship—with Grace. And he’d done it while he was still married, telling her he was divorcing his wife. The divorce came later, at his ex-wife’s instigation.

“Will’s too busy with the art gallery to worry about me.” Looking thoughtful, Grace raised her teacup, elbows on the table. “I have to admit that’s a relief.”

Olivia agreed with her. “He needs that kind of goal,” she said. “It should keep him out of trouble for a while.”

Grace nodded. “Cliff came by the library this morning with some news,” she murmured.

“Good news, I hope?”

Grace shrugged as if to suggest she wasn’t sure. “You decide. Cliff told me Cal and Vicki are moving to Wyoming to work with a mustang rescue operation.”

Olivia felt this was both good and bad. Cal had been seriously involved with Linnette McAfee and then broken off the relationship when he fell in love with one of the local vets. From a superficial perspective, it was difficult to understand why a handsome man like Cal Washburn would be attracted to a woman as plain and unassuming as Vicki Newman.