The sun slipped below the far hill, taking the mist and fairyland with it. They descended slowly. Hannah’s knees hurt now and she clung to Max, worrying that he would question the difficulty she had walking, but his mind brimmed with plans, and he did not comment on her slowed gait.

Hoping no one would see her, Hannah limped into the ladies’ farmhouse. From the kitchen doorway, Grace grimaced as she watched her friend laboriously climb the stairs using both hands for support on the railing. She had seen Hannah favoring one leg, but had been waiting for Hannah to explain or complain, which Hannah never did.

Grace filled two plastic bags with ice, wrapped them in slightly damp towels, and carried them up to Hannah, who lay on her bed, shoes on, eyes closed.

Hannah said, “Grace, thank you. I thought about ice packs after I got upstairs, and Lord knows, I couldn’t go back down for them.”

Grace held the ice packs up. “Both knees or one?”

“Both. Thank you.”

“So what do you plan to do about your knees?”

“Put off going to the doctor as long as I can.”

“Sooner would be better. Whatever it is, it’s getting worse.”

“You’re right, of course.” Hannah shifted.

The ice pack on her left knee slipped, and Grace reset it. Grace untied Hannah’s shoelaces and removed her shoes.

“I’m such a baby when it comes to surgery. You know that.”

“When you had hip replacement surgery, it went well. You recovered fast, and your hip’s been great ever since.” Grace wagged a finger at Hannah.

“Thanks to you and Amelia. You took such good care of me, but I’m that many years older.”

“And we’ll be there for you same as before. Look, Hannah, none of us is made of steel. We’re all aging, and sometimes one or another of our parts wears out. Thank God, we live in a time when medicine offers so many new and successful treatments.”

“I know that. It’s an old fear of going under the knife, I guess.” Hannah lifted her head and looked intently at Grace. Then she changed the subject. “While we were up on the pasture, a soft mist settled over everything on Cove Road. I thought about Amelia and remembered her talking about how ethereal and enchanting pictures taken in the mist could be. I actually said to Max that I wished Amelia were there with her camera, and it surprised me that I would care.”

“You care more about Amelia than you let on. It would mean a lot to her to know that you thought about her,” Grace said.

“You think so?”

“I do. Amelia sees you as someone who does everything right, knows what she’s about, and has it all figured out.”