John Mason Nilsson, Jr. had been waking up at four-thirty in the morning to care for his apple trees long before Dani was born, and he looked it. His craggy, even-featured face was rough and weathered as an old boot. His lips, always on the thin side, were surrounded by a complex network of laugh lines and fine wrinkles. Losing Gramma had been harder on Grandad than he ever wanted to admit. Abbigail had been the love of his life, his best friend, but in some ways, the dementia had taken her from him years before her death. He’d been sad but settled when Dani had left the country last.

Now? For the first time in Dani’s memory, his dark green eyes were shadowed by heavy bags. Her grandfather wasn’t sleeping, and not just in his usual the “early bird gets the worm” way. This was what Dani’s father had really stolen, her grandfather’s peace of mind.

And she was going to have to hide her fury behind a smile because she would not let Grandad see how upset she was. She would not waste their limited contact on Journey and his bullshit.

“Well, hey there, Dani-Girl!” Grandad’s voice boomed through the speaker, making her cringe. Though his hearing was still sharp as an owl’s, Grandad had never quite grasped the concept of “appropriate microphone volume.” And he was using his to hum the tune to “Danny Boy,” because that never got old.

“Hi, Grandad!” She waved her hands, because that’s what he expected. It was like he didn’t trust the video was live unless she was making jazz hands.

“Trudy says you’re in Mississippi?”

She corrected him gently. “Louisiana. My boss wanted some shots of New Orleans.”

“That sounds like an awful lot of crickets in the background for New Orleans.”

Dani cleared her throat. Nope. Definitely didn’t need to take Grandad for a hearing test. “Actually, I’m finished with my New Orleans assignments and the editors asked me to check out these weird little towns along the bayou for some nature shots, quirky tourist traps, that sort of thing. There’s one town in particular that’s really building their tourist appeal, so I might even stay there a few weeks. It’s a little off the beaten path, but I’m having fun.”

“I can’t remember the last time you had a job in the good ol’ US of A,” he said, brightening.

Dani tried to control the shudder at the thought of her last assignment in Jersey. “It’s been a while.”

“Well, you be careful down there, even out in the countryside. Carry your pepper spray.”