“Not one you love with a passion,” Nikki countered. “Is it really so rewarding, taking care of old people? Watching your patients die on a regular basis?”
Amanda fought her irritation, knowing her sister didn’t mean for her words to be hurtful. “Yes, it is rewarding. In a different way.”
“Yeah, well, maybe so. But the way you took off reminds me too much of Mom.”
“I’m not chasing shadows, Nikki.”
“I don’t want you to become like her—a nomad.”
For as long as Amanda could remember, their mother had moved them from town to town, state to state, holding down various jobs. Always thinking the next place would be exactly what she’d been looking for—whatever that was. “I don’t plan to. Boone’s Crossing was about the only place we ever had roots, thanks to Granny. Why don’t you take a week or two and come down?” she asked again. “School will be out in a few days.” How Nikki managed to cope with teaching a room full of kindergartners after the emotional upheaval she’d suffered, Amanda didn’t know. She personally couldn’t have done it.
“I don’t know.” Nikki sighed, and Amanda could picture her jabbing her fingers through her honey-brown bangs, then twisting them around her fingers. It was a habit Granny Satterfield had never been able to break her of.
“Maybe putting some distance between you and Cody would help,” Amanda coaxed. She swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “He doesn’t mean the things he said. It’s just the cop in him.” No matter if Cody had meant them or not, her brother-in-law’s harsh words had cut deeply.
How could you be so stupid, Amanda? So irresponsible. Stopping on a dark highway like that, for God’s sake!
And Nikki, torn between her husband and her sister. Cody, that’s not fair. Amanda, maybe you’d better leave for now.
She’d left all right. Taken off for Boone’s Crossing without much of a second thought.
“I’m not so sure of that,” Nikki said quietly, and Amanda wasn’t sure if she referred to the fact that some distance would help or that Cody hadn’t meant what he said. “Some distance, huh?” she added dryly. “You don’t think fifteen hundred miles would be overdoing it?”
Amanda chewed her bottom lip. “You’re the only one who can answer that, sis. But the invitation’s open. Any time.” She forced a note of humor into her voice. “You know where Granny kept the spare key. It’s still there.”
Nikki made a sound that could’ve been a sob or a laugh. “Not that she ever bothered to lock the door anyway.”
“You let me know,” Amanda said. “Promise?”
“I’ll think about it. And don’t go so long without answering my phone calls, do you hear me? I can still kick your butt, you know.”
“You can try,” Amanda teased. “I love you, sis.”
“Love you, too.”
Amanda hung up, but made no move to rise from the floor. Somehow, she found comfort sitting here, looking at Granny’s kitchen on a child’s level. Her earliest recollection of this room had been when she was around four years old, though she’d stayed at Granny’s even as a baby. The last time she’d set foot in here while Granny was alive, she’d been in middle school. But once Amanda had reached high school, other interests had taken the place of her summer trips to Tennessee, and then there had been college, nursing school….
She felt ashamed that she’d only managed to visit Granny once as an adult, and that had been at the hospital. Though she’d seen her a few times prior to that, when Granny had come to Colorado to “stay a spell,” it wasn’t the same as coming here to the log house. To Boone’s Crossing, where gospel music and old-fashioned manners were still an integral part of life, giving Amanda the feeling of being wrapped in a warm, handmade blanket.
Too bad Granny wasn’t here now, to offer words of wisdom. Still, she recalled one thing her grandmother had always said. No matter the ups and downs a person faced day to day, life was far too short to waste one single, precious minute. Putting Granny Satterfield’s house in livable order had kept Amanda’s mind and hands busy, and her position at Shade Tree Manor filled her days and gave her purpose.
Yet, no matter what she’d said to Nikki, she did not feel whole. Instead, she seemed to follow a mechanical pattern of waking, going to work, coming home to an empty house and repeating the routine the next day. But she hadn’t lied about the satisfaction taking care of senior-aged residents gave her. They were the bright spot in her day, and with that thought, Amanda pushed herself up off the floor, put the phone back in place and headed for the bathroom.
She showered, dressed, and twisted her hair into a serviceable knot on the back of her head. In a matter of minutes, she arrived at Shade Tree Manor. Starting her second week on the job, she felt safe and comfortable among both the staff and residents, and as she walked through the door, her co-workers greeted her. One of the LPNs, who she’d taken an immediate liking to on their first meeting, rolled her eyes as Amanda approached the nurses’ station.
“Boy, am I glad to see you.” Reed-thin and six feet tall with wavy black hair, Roberta Baker hid a tender heart beneath a faux display of gruffness. She worked the night shift and showed a devotion to the residents Amanda liked to see in her nurses.
Amanda tucked her purse under the counter, and turned to face her. “I take it you’re ready to go home.”
“Honey, let me tell you.” Roberta blew out a puff of air that sent her bangs flying. “Albert’s at it again, thinking he’s Daniel Boone. I caught him in the hallway, not once, but twice—” she held up two fingers for emphasis “—wearing nothing but his skivvies and a raccoon skin hat. I think we’ve finally gotten him to go to sleep, but I’m telling you what’s the truth—y’all better keep an eye on him.”
Amanda smothered a chuckle. She loved the melodious way Roberta spoke, with her thick southern accent. She hailed from Kentucky, Boone’s Crossing being just a short drive from both Kentucky and Virginia. While it was sad that Albert’s mind had been seized by dementia, Amanda got a kick out of the way Roberta described his antics. Apparently, the seventy-five-year-old gentleman was good for some unique forms of entertainment, though Amanda had yet to witness one personally.
“We’ll watch him,” she promised as Roberta gathered her purse and prepared to leave.
A short while later, after making sure one of the LPNs was keeping close tabs on Albert, Amanda headed through the day room on her way to the employee lounge. She could do with a quick cup of coffee. The day room was all but empty. Two residents watched a morning news program, another was working at a jigsaw puzzle.
It was the resident sitting in a wheelchair at a card table in the far corner who caught her eye. At eighty-seven, Zebadiah Bonner had a sharper mind than a lot of people twenty years his junior. And he’d been a friend of Granny’s, though Amanda hadn’t remembered him. He’d come to Shade Tree Manor just a few days prior to Amanda’s arrival, following three weeks in the county hospital with a broken hip. Now on the slow road to recovery, starting with a regime of physical therapy, Zeb was generally in high spirits. His injury had done nothing to quell his feistiness.
He was playing chess by himself. It was the unique set of game pieces that had initially captured Amanda’s attention the first time she’d met Zeb. Handpainted, they were figures from the Wild West; cowboys on rearing horses, saloon girls, covered wagons. A gift from his grandson, the chess set was Zeb’s pride and joy. But he refused to play with anyone. Instead, he moved both sets of chess pieces on his own, making the game go the way he wanted.
“Good morning, Zeb.” Amanda stood beside the old man’s