Before they were out of the car, Grandma June was on the bottom porch step, waving and calling out, “Oh, Mylanta, look who it is. Randall, come see who it is.”

Bea wasn’t used to seeing Grandma June get so excited. She was always steady, like the mountain. And like the mountain, she was unmoving. A strong-willed rancher’s wife. Bea’s mother had been a strong woman, too, in her own way, but different from Grandma June. Affectionate and soft and always looking at things in new ways. It wasn’t until Bea was a teenager that she realized how remarkable it was that Grandma June and her mother got along so well.

“Hi, Grandma.”

Grandma June squeezed Bea in a side hug and eyeballed Jeremy. “You look hungry.”

Jeremy smiled. “I could eat.”

Well, that was about the same as telling her the only thing standing between him and utter starvation was a plate of her corn bread. She rose in height a good two inches and made her declaration. “We’ll have pancakes.”

Bea bit back a groan. Grandma’s pancakes were even better than her corn bread, with homemade brown-sugar syrup to boot. Yet Bea’s stomach protested the thought of eating anything heavier than a cracker. Grandma would be offended if she didn’t fill her plate, though. Bea would need to keep Grandma talking about other things so she wouldn’t notice.

Bea and Jeremy followed Grandma up the porch steps, reaching the front door as Grandpa Rand appeared.

“Hi, Grandpa.”

His face looked weary, but his eyes sparked when they caught sight of Bea. He smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. “Good to see you.”

He shook Jeremy’s hand, and they all proceeded inside.

Jeremy eyed Grandpa’s belt. “That’s quite the buckle you got there.”

Grandpa raised his eyebrows. “You like that?”

“I’ve never seen one so big.”

“I’ve got twenty more bigger’n this.” Grandpa stifled a grin and jerked his chin toward his office. “Come on.”

Grandma and Bea shared an amused look as the men disappeared down the hall. Bea used to play with the buckles as a kid, organizing them by shape and size. With a glance back over her shoulder, she followed Grandma into the kitchen. Grandpa’s buckle collection was extensive and each one had a story. If she was going to have a few minutes alone to talk with Grandma, now was her chance.

Grandma gave Bea a big smile as she tied on an apron. “It’s so good to have you back, Beatrice.”

She wasn’t back exactly. Would Grandma understand if she said she didn’t want to stay in Moose Creek? Better to start with an easier question. “Is Grandpa doing okay?”

Grandma opened a drawer and started digging around in it. “Of course, dear. He’s fine. Are you okay? You look a little peaked.”