“No, no,” Tilly insisted. “Of course not. We were just talking and Kate suggested that you take my bed tonight.”

Jim shook his head adamantly. “Oh, no. I couldn’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Tilly said as she took the tea towel and cup from his hand. She smiled warmly and rubbed at his shoulder. “Kate has a pull-out in her room that I can sleep on, and honestly, we’d both feel much better knowing that you were sleeping in a real bed rather than on the lounge.” Her gaze brushed Kate’s as Jim hobbled across the kitchen to return three cups to the rack.

Jim chuckled. He spared a glance at Kate as she lowered the fresh wood beside the fire. “Only if you’re sure,” he said sincerely, and embarrassment burned hot as it climbed Kate’s neck. Perhaps she hadn’t been as welcoming as she could have been. Perhaps she’d been a royal jerk.

Kate smiled widely as she arranged the kindling inside the heater. “One hundred percent sure. Til, can you grab me a fire starter?” she asked, desperate to change the subject.

Tilly pulled the box from the top of the fridge and squinted inside as she crossed the room. Reaching inside, she pinched one out. “Oh, by the way,” she said as she lowered the cube into Kate’s hand, “I know you offered, but are you sure you’re okay to strip and remake my bed for Jim while I shower?”

Striking a match, Kate bit her tongue. Nicely played, Tilly. Nicely played.

Christ Almighty. Kate groaned internally as the end of the splinter broke off into her short nail, the rest still deep in her flesh. Good fucking job, Kate. She needed tweezers, and a magnifying glass, and more than the pathetic glow of her bedside light. She winced against the pain as she squeezed at it. If Tilly hadn’t insisted on turning out the main light to get down on her knees and pray, maybe she wouldn’t have broken the splinter in the first place. She looked to the ceiling in frustration as Tilly droned on with her prayer for Sister Ruth’s arthritis. If Kate didn’t pop a blood vessel trying to squeeze the damn splinter out, Tilly’s never-ending repentance would get the job done.

“And finally, Lord, please bless Sister Tessie…”

Yes, finally. Kate glanced at her bedside clock. Prayer time was going on five minutes. At this rate, Tilly was giving Maria Von Trapp a run for her money. Kate ran her gaze over Tilly’s face, watched as her closed eyelids fluttered with every word that left her lips. Like a veil, her hair fell over her high cheekbones in dark waves. She’d always prayed aloud, even when they’d shared a room as teenagers, but she’d never prayed for so long. Kate pulled her gaze away and looked back down to her throbbing thumb.

“Lord, may Sister Tessie find peace in her confusion, and with your love and guidance, may she remain with the sisters of St. Joan for as long as possible.”