I had just sat down again when my uncle walked in, looking rattled and slightly wan. “I’ve called Barbara’s physician,” he said, shoving a hand through his heretofore tidy gray hair. “She’s suffered some kind of setback, it would seem. She asked me to apologize for deserting you on your first evening here.”

I stood. I wasn’t Barbara’s new best friend, and she wasn’t mine, but the woman was in a wheelchair, and I was not unsympathetic. “It would probably be better if I left,” I said.

“Please, don’t,” my uncle responded, and he sounded sincere, though of course there was always the possibility that he was just trying to be polite. “There are so many things I want to ask you about. And Barbara is bound to feel better in the morning. The doctor will give her something, and she’ll rest. That’s what she needs—rest.”

I nodded, though in truth I had no way of knowing what Barbara needed. “I’m sorry she’s ill. And of course you need to be with her. I was planning to visit my sister in Tucson anyway, so—”

The senator interrupted, frowning. “You have a sister?”

Naturally he’d be confused. We were almost total strangers to each other, but he knew Geoff and I were our parents’ only children, and with both of them dead, the chances of family expansion were nil.

I leaned down to collect my purse from the floor next to my chair, straightened again. “Jolie’s an honorary sibling,” I said. “I’ll explain later. In the meantime, I’ll get out of your way so you can concentrate on taking care of Mrs. Larimer.”

He looked relieved, but regretful, too. “You will stay the night, won’t you? I’ll have Joseph show you to the guesthouse, and in the morning, we can have breakfast on the patio. Make up for lost time.” He paused. “It’s important to me, Mary Jo. When you get to my age, you realize that nothing matters as much as family.”

As if I wanted to be alone with Joseph. “I’ll find the guesthouse on my own,” I said. “Is there anything I can do for Mrs.—”

“Barbara,” Clive corrected gently. “Please, call her Barbara.”

I would have been more comfortable if the injunction had come from Barbara herself, but I conceded with a nod. Since Joseph had departed through the kitchen, I decided to take the long way around, through the front door, even if I had to stumble around in the dark to find the appointed sleeping quarters.

I waited, and when my uncle looked blank, I reiterated, “If I can help in any way, just let me know.”

Clive shook his head. “No. I appreciate your understanding, Mary Jo. I’ll have Joseph walk you out—”