just a bump,” he said, in the way one would reassure a worried child.
“Let me give my sister Paige a call,” I suggested. Paige was one of the family doctors in town. “I bet she’ll fix that right up.”
“Oh, no. I don’t want to be a bother on a Sunday morning. I’m sure she’s enjoying some time with that handsome man of hers.”
My stomach twisted a little with envy, thinking that Mrs. Easter was probably right. Paige was probably lounging in bed with Cormac, or enjoying a family breakfast with him and his two adorable little girls. She had a ready-made family, and I—well, that wasn’t important right now.
“She won’t mind a bit,” I assured her, pulling my phone from my pocket. I stepped away and explained the situation to Paige, who agreed to come down and take a quick look. “Why don’t we just go inside here and wait for her? Maybe have some tea? It’s a little chilly out here.”
Mrs. Easter smiled. “That would be nice.”
Michael looked hesitant, but to his credit, said nothing about being led into a Tanner-owned establishment.
As we walked through the door, my mother gasped and dropped the coffee cup she’d been pouring for a customer. “Addie, what do you think you’re doing?”
The broken cup spun across the floor, and then a cold silence spread through the shop, doused in the scent of cinnamon. Michael froze in place, Mrs. Easter at his side. I pulled out a chair at a table by the window for Mrs. Easter.
“Mrs. Easter fell outside,” I said, looking around and feeling like I had to explain myself, not just to my mother but to all the concerned busybodies of Singletree who were staring now, hoping for something to talk about later. “And Michael and I were both right there. Paige is coming to take a look and make sure she’s okay, so I suggested we come in here to wait. It’s cold outside.”
Mom seemed to recover herself, and rushed to Mrs. Easter’s side. “Of course! Oh, you poor dear. Come sit. Let’s get you some tea.” She managed to take the old woman’s arm from Michael and turn her back on him rather obviously in the process.
“Maybe I’ll just . . .” he said, clearly uncomfortable.
“No, no,” Mrs. Easter said. “You stay and sit. If I need to be carried or have questions about farm supplies, I’ll need you right here.”
Well, that was odd—and it felt like Mrs. Easter had an ulterior motive, but neither of us seemed inclined to question an injured old woman. Michael sighed and sat down next to the old woman, and my mother’s annoyance was practically tangible. There would be no holding off the barrage of questions later.
“Lottie, that tea sounds lovely,” Mrs. Easter said. Besides the knee, she seemed completely fine. She looked between Michael and me, a little smile pulling at her lips. “You know,” she said. “I remember you both from when you were small.” Mrs. Easter didn’t seem too affected by her fall, and I thought maybe she was actually enjoying the extra attention.
“You do?” I laughed, taking a seat beside her. I remembered her a little bit, but wondered what exactly she remembered about me, the serious Tanner sister, as a child.
“Oh yes, dear,” Mrs. Easter said. “I don’t know if you remember that I used to run a daycare up at my house when I lived in the big place at the top of the hill. Very informal, of course, nothing fancy. But I always loved being around the little ones. And there was a time, Addie, when you were my little helper.”
I had a vague memory of being in that big house when I’d been little. I’d thought it was a kind of fairytale castle—lots of rooms and stairs and wide open wood floors, plus the biggest widest porch I’d ever seen. I had a warm recollection of being happy there.
“And you always helped me with the babies. You were a good helper too, since you had two younger sisters and lots of practice with them. You were a big help with Michael here.”
Michael cleared his throat as if this news was somehow embarrassing.
I laughed, trying to imagine the well-built man across from me as a baby. “Really?”
“Oh yes, dear. I wondered back then if the two of you wouldn’t be the end of this silly feud right there. When you were near, Michael was happy and calm—and he was the fussiest of fussy babies, let me