“You’re just in time, Lance.” Nana Jo moved around her grandson with the kettle in her grip. “I was about to pour us some hot apple cider, extra cinnamon for you.”
So, Lance’s arrivalhadbeen an expected one. Interesting.
Nana Jo brought the kettle to the table and divvied out three generous mugs full of the steaming amber liquid. It smelled every bit as delicious as Sarah remembered. That spicy, almost nutty scent that had her tongue salivating at the promise of a warm, comforting sip.
There were several little crocheted doilies stacked in the center of the table. Nana Jo passed them around before finally taking a seat at the chair closest to the window. As soon as she settled in, Laney climbed up into her lap, apple juice cup in hand.
“Be sure to blow across the top,” she warned the adults. “It’s hot.”
Sarah eyed Lance over her mug. What was he there for? Had Nana sent him a similar text, requesting that he stop by? While she figured Nana Jo didn’t have a second pair of boots on hand to pass down to Lance, she assumed there was a reason for his sudden arrival at the ranch, coordinated at precisely the same time as hers.
“So, Nana, you said I needed to come over quickly,” Lance said. “I’m assuming the urgency wasn’t over simply sharing a cup of cider.”
“While a good cider shouldn’t go to waste, that’s not the entire reason I asked you here. I need your help getting something down from the attic.”
Lance stilled, something similar to defeat drawing his mouth into a line. “Nana, I don’t think I should be going up on a ladder. Not with my knee.”
“Didn’t ask you here to get on any ladders. Just to hold it steady for me while I get something down for Sarah.”
“I thought you said the boots were in the barn?” Sarah cradled the mug between her palms and pursed her lips to cool the liquid with a slow breath.
“They are. It’s not boots I’ve got stowed away up there…It’s books.”
A sound just short of a gasp slipped between Sarah’s lips. An attic full of books was like a Christmas tree crowded with beautifully wrapped gifts. Something out of a dream.
“Years and years ago, I hosted my very own book club here at the ranch,” Josephine carried on. “Mostly westerns, mind you, but we amassed a respectable sized gathering. I was thinking the library might be interested in some of the old novels. Can’t guarantee their condition, but should be readable, at the very least.”
Sarah could deal with bent pages or torn spines. In fact, the library had tools to repair those sorts of things. It was one of her very favorite tasks.
“I’d love to see what you have.”
“Then, as soon as we finish our cider, we’ll head up to the attic. To be honest, I’m just as curious as you are about what we might find up there.”
CHAPTER 6
Lance knew what Nana Jo was doing.
The woman might be crafty, but she wasn’t sly.
“Everything okay up there?” Lance steadied the rails of the ladder with a solid grip as Sarah stepped a rung higher. One more and she would be at the very top, and Lance didn’t like the thought of her precariously balanced on the dangerous, small platform.
Sarah swung the flashlight from her cellphone back and forth to sweep over the darkened space. “I see the big chest she told us about. It’s covered in dust and cobwebs, but it’s close to the opening here. I can almost reach it.”
Lance didn’t enjoy being tethered to the ground like this, forced to stay planted while Sarah took on the risk he would gladly assume.
“I’m going to climb all the way up,” she said confidently, and before he had time to protest, she’d vanished into the attic’s opening.
He didn’t understand why any of this needed to happen right now, the boots for Laney and books for Sarah. Of course, he always knew his grandmother to be the sort to lend whatever she had to someone in need. But these things weren’t necessities.And Lance didn’t like the fact that the older Nana Jo got, the more possessions she seemed to give away. It was as though she was readying herself for something, and Lance was simply not ready to face that inevitable truth.
“Oh my word, Lance. There are so many of them!” Sarah’s voice echoed in a gleeful shout. “Your grandmother has an impressive book collection.”
He didn’t doubt that. He’d remembered all the story times she’d hosted for her own grandbabies throughout the years. FromLittle House on the Prairieduring the evenings in the summer months, toThe Night Before Christmasat the holiday season. One of his favorite things had been to sit at her slippered feet while she read with enthusiasm, turning each page expectantly as she made unique voices for each character.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to get the entire chest down.” Sarah popped her head into the opening to call out to Lance. “I think our best bet is if I unpack the books individually and pass them to you a few at a time. Then we can box them up in something smaller. Do you think that would work?”
“I think that’s a good plan.” He stepped onto the second rung from the ground just to close the distance between them a little. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
They made quick work of offloading the old novels. He couldn’t help but notice how gingerly Sarah moved as she handed him each book, like she didn’t want to do anything to aggravate Lance’s knee or put him out in any way physically. He tried not to focus on how demoralizing that made him feel. He was a capable man. He could handle a boxload of books.
