“Now we’re cooking. Tonight I want you to write down everything you can think of about Karen. Bring your notes and her album tomorrow. That will give us a place to start.”
“Okay.”
Sara was easy to talk to. Cade surprised himself by prattling on and on about how much he wanted his sister to come home, how he worried about her safety, fussed about her future happiness.
When Sara’s attention slipped from him, Cade turned, saw a diminutive figure in black in the display window, writing in big brown letters.
Do you want your wedding to look like this?
“That’s Winnie!”
“But I thought—” Cade trailed behind Sara into the store, right up to the narrow door from which she’d first emerged. He halted, knowing how tight the fit was.
Sara slipped through.
“Winnie? What are you doing here?”
He heard a forced cough, then a familiar voice that didn’t sound the least bit ill.
“Hello, darling. I thought I’d stop by to check on things. I figured the twins must have rearranged the window, so I—”
“Never mind the twins,” Sara scolded. “You’re supposed to be at home. Resting. Come on, out you go.”
Cade stepped back as Sara emerged, leading her grandmother. He’d only seen photographs of Winifred Woodward, but she looked exactly like the elegant duchess in her publicity photos. Today she wore a black sheath dress with silver jewelry and high heels. She looked significantly younger than her rumored age. Her silver white curls were swept up into a regal style that enhanced merry brown eyes and rose-tinted cheekbones.
“You’re Cade Porter, I think.” She thrusted out a tiny blue-veined hand to grasp his. “Winifred Woodward. I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep our appointment.”
“I’m sorry you’re not well.” Except she looked the picture of health.
“It’s just a cold. My family is overreacting.” Winnie patted Sara’s cheek. “I’m getting better every day.”
“You don’t sound better. Your voice is scratchy.” Sara frowned. “How did you get here, Grandmother?”
“A cab.” She brushed her fingers against Sara’s golden curls. “Don’t be angry, dear. I couldn’t sit around that house a moment longer. I’m used to being busy.”
“Katie said the doctors ordered rest. You’re to follow their advice, Granny. That’s why I came.” She grasped the old lady’s arm as Winifred tried to stem a bout of coughing. “Now you’ve tired yourself out. Home you go.”
“I never thought you’d try to tell me what to do.” Winifred’s perfectly made-up face wore a sly look. “You, of all people, Sara. Aren’t you the one who’s always championing your right to live your life your own way?”
“I’m not sick. And my doctor didn’t tell me to stay in bed.”
“I thought I heard—Grandmother?” Katie rushed into the room and, seizing the older woman’s arm, seated her in one of the fussy chairs that littered the foyer. “Look at you. Your face is as white as a calla lily. You’ll probably faint any moment.”
Cade thought Katie’s concern was exaggerated considering Winifred hadn’t exhibited any sign of fainting. But it was nice to see the old lady was cherished.
“I’m fine,” Winifred repeated. Her smile looked slightly forced now.
“You’re not. Your hand is too warm and you’re sniffling.”
“She’s going home, Katie. I’ll take her.” Sara shuffled papers on the desktop, obviously searching for something. “Do you know where my car keys are? I’m sure I left them beside the phone.”
“Oh, dear.”
Katie fluttered her eyelashes at him, then pressed her fingertips against her lips. In Cade’s opinion this was the sister who belonged in Hollywood, except Katie’s acting was too forced. And why was she looking at him like that?
“Is something wrong?”
“Well, you see, Reese’s car wouldn’t start,” Katie said. “He had to get to another appointment, so I gave him Sara’s car keys. I didn’t think she’d need them and he promised he wouldn’t be long.”
“Then I’ll take yours, Katie.” Sara held out her hand.
“No! You can’t have them.” Katie’s shrill voice broke on a nervous laugh at their stares of surprise. “I mean, that’s the problem. I put my car in the shop this morning for an oil change. If I’d known we’d need it—”
Something about Katie’s quick response bothered him, but Cade wasn’t going to speculate. He needed to get back to the ranch. But when Mrs. Woodward’s thin form shuddered and another cough rattled her tiny figure, he put his own plans aside.
“I’ll be happy to drive you home, ma’am. My car’s just across the street.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll call a cab.” She wheezed out the words, her handkerchief muffling something he didn’t quite catch.
“It’s not a problem. Please, allow me.” Cade held out his arm, surprised by the weakness of her grip when she rose. The old lady must be sicker than she looked. “I could bring the car around to the front door if it’s too difficult for you to walk.”
“I’m fine. Sara, where’s my coat? Oh, good. Now you come here on the other side where I can hold on to you. All of a sudden I’ve gone a bit wobbly.”
Sara obeyed immediately, casting him an apologetic look behind her grandmother’s back.
Cade told himself to mind his own business when it seemed Winifred fussed needlessly. To her credit, Sara kept softly reassuring her as they crossed the street to his car. Winifred insisted on sitting in the back. Alone.
“I can spread out then,” she husked, her voice significantly worse than it had been moments earlier. She closed her eyes. “I’ll rest a few moments. I’m a bit tired. I gave Vivian the day off, so I’ll need Sara to help me to bed. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind waiting to drive her back here, Cade. It would be so kind of you.”
“No.” Sara glanced at him. “It’s not necessary, Grandmother.”
“No worries.” Cade held open her door, waited until Sara was seated. As he closed the door, he noted Winifred’s sparkling eyes and the funny smile lifting her lips. When she saw him watching, she quickly shut her eyes.
He got in the driver’s seat, curiosity rampant.
“If you turn right at the next corner, we’ll go that way. Winnie lives in Cherry Creek.” Sara glanced over one shoulder as if she worried about disturbing her grandmother.
Cherry Creek was the “old money” side of town, filled with posh houses and beautiful landscapes. Cade drove toward it silently, content to watch the exchanges between the two.
Her affectionate care of her grandmother was admirable, but Cade didn’t think this was the real Sara. She was hiding her true feelings. Personally, he far preferred the honest, open woman with whom he’d shared croissants at the coffee shop to this dutiful person who slavishly agreed with every demand her grandmother made. But he kept silent as Sara handed the old woman out of the car and ushered her into the house.
“It’s nice of you to offer, but I’ll stay here,” she said five minutes later when she returned. They were alone and the real Sara was back.
“You want me to disobey her edict that I drive you back to the store?”
“Yes. I want to make sure Granny goes right to bed.”
“Okay.