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The car ate up the miles toward Lone Oaks Crossing. She hadn’t visited in over a year, but the place had been on her mind more often than not recently. She’d have to tell Earl, of course. He’d say he’d told her so, and he’d be disappointed in her—but no more so than she already was with herself.

Soon, emerald hills emerged, rolling peacefully alongside her car, the breeze gracefully bending the lush bluegrass of sprawling fields in an easy rhythm. She rolled the windows down and inhaled, the swift wind cooling her hot cheeks, slowing her pulse.

The loud peal of her cell phone rang through her car’s speakers, the computer system connecting the call.

“Hello?” A female voice chimed through the speakers. “I’m trying to reach Ms. Jo Beth Ellis.”

Jo licked her dry lips and cleared her throat. “This is Jo. Who is this?”

“This is Sarah Wyndham,” the voice said. “I’m a nurse, calling from Lone Oaks Hospital.”

Lone Oaks? Home. Earl. Jo straightened in her seat. “Does this have something to do with Earl? Is he okay? Has h—”

“Yes, I’m calling about Earl Ellis, but please don’t be alarmed. He’s resting comfortably now and was very lucky.”

“What do you mean? What’s happened?”

“I see here”—rustling crossed the line—“that you’re listed as Mr. Ellis’s granddaughter. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been trying to reach you all morning. Your grandfather has had a stroke.”

Jo’s pulse picked up again, her muscles clenching.

“But he’s stable now and resting well in room four-o-eight,” Sarah continued. “He’ll need to stay here for a few days. He’ll require an extensive period of rehabilitation, and as you’re listed as his emergency cont—”

“I’m already on my way.” Jo pressed the pedal harder, the car picking up speed. “But I’m two hours out.”

“There’s no rush, Ms. Ellis. As I said, your grandfather’s resting peacefully now and will be for some time. If anything changes prior to your arrival, I’ll call you immediately.”

Jo nodded, then, remembering she was on the phone, said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We’ll see you soon.”

The call disconnected.

Thoughts racing, Jo drove for an hour then, tank running low, pulled into a gas station—Jimbo’s Pit—and fueled up. A man exited the small convenience store and walked by her car on the way to his, an odd expression crossing his face as he eyed her face, then chest.

Jo looked down at the blood staining her white blouse. Oh, no. She couldn’t show up at Earl’s bedside looking like this. She touched her fingertip to the dried blood on her bottom lip and flinched. There were two restrooms outside the convenience store, both with signs that read SEE CLERK FOR KEY.

Tank full, she replaced the pump handle and went inside to pay, grabbing salt, bottled water, and gauze before approaching the checkout counter. The clerk, a young man with blue hair, rang up her purchases, bagged them, and handed the sack to her.

“May I have the restroom key, please?” She kept her eyes down but felt the intensity of his scrutiny on her bloody lip anyway.

His hands left the counter briefly then returned, holding a key out toward her. “Ma’am?”

She took the key, then looked up, meeting his concerned gaze.

“Are you okay?” He glanced out the window, then back at her and whispered, “If you need help . . .”

That mirthless laugh returned, bursting from her lips before she could stop it, her eyes burning. “D-do you know I offered someone the very same thing today?”

He tilted his head and his concerned expression changed to confusion.

“No, I—” She backed away, clutching her bag. “No, thank you.”

Jo went inside the restroom and locked the door, dumped the salt she’d purchased into the bottle of water, soaked a strip of gauze in the mixture, and dabbed at her bloody mouth. She hissed at the sharp sting, her eyes welling.