Free Currant Creek Valley by RaeAnne Thayne

stones at the bottom of her goldfish pond.
    “Sorry. I was...in the laundry room...moving a load from washer to dryer.”
    Every time Alex visited, Caroline’s once-strong frame seemed to have dwindled a little more. She only weighed about eighty-five pounds, her wrists so thin a child could probably circle them with thumb and forefinger.
    “I told you I was coming this morning. Why didn’t you wait and let me help you?”
    Despite the fact that she could only get around with her walker, had little energy and fought steady pain, Caroline hated to be a bother to anyone.
    “It’s enough...that you come to visit. I don’t need you to do for me, too.”
    Leo chose that moment to move into the room, sniffing at the legs of one of the stately Queen Anne recliners Caroline favored.
    The left side of Caroline’s face lifted in a smile while the right remained immobile. “A dog! I didn’t know...you had a dog!”
    “I don’t. Not officially, anyway. I found him running loose downtown last night. I’m just keeping him company until we find his owners.”
    “You’re a beauty. Yes, you are.” Leo stood with touching docility as Caroline rubbed his head with one gnarled hand.
    For just a moment, she had the crazy idea of leaving the dog with her friend, but reality quickly intruded. That would never work. Caroline could barely take care of herself, try as she might. She couldn’t handle the needs of another living creature right now, though Alex was convinced she was getting better every day.
    But if she was going to respond with such enthusiasm, Alex could certainly bring the dog around to visit while he was staying with her.
    “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? What’s your name?” Caroline murmured.
    “I’ve been calling him Leo. He doesn’t seem to mind it.”
    “Why should he? It’s a good name. I had a beau once...named Leo. He ended up marrying my best friend’s little sister and moving to...Grand Junction.”
    She kissed her friend’s papery cheek. “Idiot. He didn’t know what he had.”
    “Oh, he knew.” Her half smile was mischievous. “I dumped him...long before then. Broke his heart, too, I did.”
    “I’ll bet you did, along with dozens of others.”
    “Not that many...but a few.” It might have been the way her mouth could only lift partway, but her expression suddenly seemed pensive and almost sad.
    Alex couldn’t allow that. “I’ve brought you a few meals for your freezer,” she said, quick to change the subject. “All of them have instructions, as usual, and they’re in individual portion sizes. All you have to do is thaw them first, either in your refrigerator or the microwave, and then heat and eat.”
    “You need...to stop doing that.”
    “If I don’t do it, my mom will, and we both know I’m a much better cook.”
    That wasn’t strictly true, as Mary Ella had fine skills in a kitchen, but it still made Caroline smile, just as Alex had hoped. That shadow of regret and sorrow was gone.
    “Besides, you’re the closest thing to a grandmother I have, you know,” Alex said. “My dad’s parents both died before I was born, and my mom’s mother was a cranky old biddy who thought we McKnight kids were hooligans, every one.”
    “Weren’t you?” Caroline asked with that mischievous smile again.
    “True enough.”
    Despite that, Caroline had always welcomed Alex and her siblings to her home. Her first memory of the woman had been probably around kindergarten age, when she had sneaked through Caroline’s garden gate to pick some flowers to give to her mother. If she remembered correctly, she was in trouble with Mary Ella for something or other—nothing new there—and thought the flowers might help smooth things over.
    Like most kids, she’d had no concept of abstract things like ownership and had picked indiscriminately until Caroline had finally noticed her and come out to put a stop to her thievery.
    Most of the details of that encounter were hazy but she could