“I’m watching Sarah Hart’s daughter for a bit. But Nana, I’ve got to be real—I’m out of my depth here.”
Nana Jo popped back up to full height faster than Lance ever could. It said something that the woman’s knees were in better shape than his own. “Were you given any instructions?”
“Just to find her a good pair of snow boots for the season.”
“Sounds like an easy enough task.” Commandeering the scene, Nana Jo took Laney’s other hand into her own and together, they paced the few steps toward the back wall of shoes. “What’s your favorite color, little one?”
“Pink.”
Lance physically startled at the sound of Laney’s tiny voice. He’d asked her the exact question moments earlier, only to be met with a look of utter bewilderment.
“Hear that, Lancelot? The little gal likes pink, and it looks like she’s in luck. I see several pairs of pretty pink snow boots to choose from. Isn’t that serendipitous?”
He let his grandmother take the lead, glad to step back and watch the endearing moment unfold. There was such a juxtaposition here—his elderly nana, her features etched with age but not marring her obvious beauty, sitting next to this sweet little toddler, fresh-faced and full of wonder.
They tugged on one boot after the other like Cinderella searching for the perfect fit.
Nana Jo was a natural with kids. Always had been. She’d had six of her own, with twice as many grandchildren branching out on her large family tree. Even at eighty-three, she still ran the day-to-day operations at Snowdrift Stables, the mountaintop ranch that had been in their family for generations. She was up at the first rays of daylight to fill the water troughs and muck the stalls. And she never complained about the additional work she was left when her husband of sixty-three years, Grandpa Harris, fell ill three winters ago and passed away. If anything, she deemed it an honor to learn his trade of shoeing the big horses and rotating their small herd of cattle in the spring and summermonths. She considered herself blessed in everything, wanting for nothing.
Something Lance could learn.
“I think these are the ones!” Nana Jo clapped her hands together, motioning with a tip of her chin for Lance to check out Laney’s current footwear.
The young girl clomped around in a circle, squeals of glee corroborating her enthusiasm.
“You’re a lifesaver, Nana Jo.” Lance helped Laney out of the boots to place them back into their box. He shut the lid. “That would have taken me all afternoon.”
“It wouldn’t have.” There was a twinkle in her eye that made him truly believe that statement. His precious grandmother never spoke anything but the truth, and her word was as good as gospel. Her certainty—a certainty Lance lacked in the moment—meant a great deal.
Nana shifted to face Laney, that glimmer suddenly turning mischievous. “You know what? I think I’ve got a pair of cowgirl boots right around your size back at the ranch.” She bopped the young girl on her nose with the tip of a sparkly red lacquered fingernail. Her eyes shifted to Lance. “Used to be your cousin Clara’s, but that girl never took to horses. Not like Spencer. Couldn’t keep him away from them. Still can’t.”
Lance hadn’t seen his twin cousins in years, but he suspected Nana kept in touch better than he had. She always seemed to be well-informed when it came to family matters.
He was almost surprised she hadn’t pried into his personal life yet, considering it had been over a week since he’d stopped by the ranch for a generous helping of her Summit-famous apple tarts with a free side of the latest town gossip.
The more he thought on it, what exactlywasthe reason for her impromptu visit?
Before he had the opportunity to ask, she cut to the chase. “I saw Dr. Franklin at the Main Street Market this morning.”
No. Not his physician of practically twenty-nine years breaking doctor-patient confidentiality. Lance didn’t like where this was headed.
“And what did he have to say?” His brows lowered over his eyes.
“That I’m overdue for a physical.”
“Really? That’s all?”
“Well, and that I should give up riding sooner than later. Says if I get bucked off old Alpine again, I might break more than just a couple ribs.”
Dr. Franklin was quite the killjoy lately, wasn’t he? Still, Lance could value the physician’s assessment. He often worried about his grandma saddling up and riding free like she was still a young girl without a care in the world.
“It’s hard to be told to slow down, isn’t it?” She pinned her grandson with a look.
“Did he share with you that Ialsohad an appointment with him this week?”
“He didn’t.” The woman smiled and wrapped her arms around little Laney’s shoulders to tug her close. The girl had discovered a pair of pink gloves on the nearby shelf and engrossed herself in an attempt to fit her fingers into the correct holes. “But I saw your calendar reminder pop up on your cellphone when you were at the ranch last week. I didn’t want to pester you at the time, but you know me. I’m nothing if not overly involved in the lives of the ones I love most.” A hand came down on Lance’s forearm and gave a little squeeze. “What did he have to say?”
“That I need to throttle back.”
