Sam sniffed the cookies he’d snatched. “Good job, kiddo. Come on, Mom, show me what to take.” He headed for the door, Ginny following. Out by the greenhouse, where she’d set pots to harden the plants off, he looked over what had become a meager collection. “You going to put any more in the garden here?”

“Doubtful. If they produced like last year, I’d never be able to keep ahead of them.” Her voice broke. How would she do all the canning, freezing, drying without Fred to pick and peel and carry half the load? Tears welled up and over, too much to sniff back.

Sam turned from loading pots. “What is it?”

Ginny motioned to the plants and toward the garden. “I—I can’t do it all without him.” She dug in her pocket, only to find one badly used tissue. Sam wrapped his arms around her and held her close so her tears soaked his shirt.

“It’s okay, Mom, we’ll help. We all will. And you don’t have to can and freeze like you and Dad did. I swear you fed half the city.”

“I—I need a tissue.” She raised her head. “S-sorry, that caught me by surprise.”

“Does it happen often?”

“I don’t know how to define ‘often.’ At least I am not crying all the time anymore, and I can sleep sometimes without waking to a wet pillow. Actually, I’m sleeping more like I used to lately.” She looked toward the barn. “I still can’t make myself go in the chicken house. Addy takes care of the chickens, and feeds the other animals too. Magic whinnies now when she comes.”

“And he used to nicker when Dad came. What about Smoky?”

Ginny sucked in a deep breath and let it all out. “Perhaps it’s time to find new homes for them.”

“Magic needs young children to teach about horse handling. Addy and Andy have really outgrown him.”

“I know. More to think about.”

Sam had all the remaining tomato pots loaded in his truck. “Looks like that pumpkin is too big to transplant. Why don’t I dump some dirt around it right there and it can become a lawn decoration?”

“Why not. Go for it.”

“Grandma,” Addy called from the garage. “Telephone, you want to call her back?”

“Who is it? No, just tell her I’ll call her back.” She turned to Sam. “When you are done there, Addy will have a plate of cookies for you to take home.”

“You get tired of having her around, you can send her home, you know.” Sam shoveled a bucketful of compost for the pumpkin plant. “Where’s your clippers?”

“In my apron pocket, where they belong.”

“Yes, ma’am, I will put them back.”

Ginny shook her head, heaved the stick for Spook, and made her way to the house. She could hear Addy on the phone in the family room, talking with a friend. It didn’t seem fair that Addy should give up her summer to take care of her grieving grandma. She checked the light on the oven: sure enough, more cookies about ready to come out. Her sniffer never lied.