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“Mara, for God’s sake, is that you?” Dena shrieked over the wires when Mara answered the phone.

“Yes . . . yes . . . Dena?” Mara asked, hearing what she construed to be sobs on the other end of the connection. “What’s wrong?” she asked, and swallowed with difficulty. “Dena?”

“It’s . . . it’s Mother,” Dena blurted out.

“What about her?”

“She’s . . . she’s in the hospital . . . that’s where I’m calling from. I’ve been trying to reach you all day!”

“Just calm down,” Mara whispered, but felt her own heart thudding with dread. “Now, explain everything to me. What happened?”

“I . . . I don’t know . . .” Dena admitted through her sobs. “She was at some bridge thing last night . . . and, well . . . she just collapsed. An ambulance brought her here.”

“And has she seen Dr. Bernard?”

“Along with about five others.”

“How ill is she?” Mara asked, not daring to take a breath.

“They say . . . that she’ll be all right . . . apparently she’s suffered a series of slight strokes . . . they’ve finished with most of the tests and Dr. Bernard is letting her go home, as long as we can find a nurse to take care of her.” Dena’s voice was calmer, and her sobbing had subsided slightly.

“Have you found one?”

“Dr. Bernard gave me a name . . . Anne Hamilton.”

“Have you called her?”

“Not yet . . . I thought I should call you first.”

“Okay, look,” Mara commanded. Her voice was firm as she took control of the situation. If the doctors were releasing June from the hospital, she certainly wasn’t as ill as Dena thought. “Call the nurse and get her over to June’s apartment as soon as they release your mother. I can be at the apartment in about four hours. Can you handle everything until I get there?”

“I . . . I think so.”

“Good, I’ll see you later.” Mara hung up the phone with numb hands. She turned toward the hallway and noticed Shane standing near the stairs, her suitcase in his hands. His eyes were dark, unreadable.

“It’s June, isn’t it?” he asked, grimly.

“She’s in the hospital . . . she suffered a series of slight strokes, or something . . .”

“Let’s go,” he commanded. “Angie, come on,” he said more loudly through the open door.

“You don’t have to come,” Mara offered.

“Of course I do.”

The drive to Asheville was hampered by Saturday afternoon tourists, leisurely plodding along and gazing at the quiet beauty of the Indian summer day. Mara thought that she would be torn to pieces by the concern she felt for her mother-in-law and the guilt that she was carrying. What could have set off the strokes? A gnawing thought chilled her to the bone as she concluded it must have been because of Mara’s reaction to the fact that June had let Angie leave with Shane without asking for Mara’s permission. Somehow, the dread that had overcome Mara must have passed to her mother-in-law, leading to the grave turn in her illness.

The quiet, tense hours passed with the miles, and when Mara saw the Asheville skyline, her stomach had knotted to the point that a sharp pain of dread and fear passed over her. Shane parked the car in front of June’s town house and helped Mara out of the car.

“Are you going to be all right?” he asked, his concern reflected in his dark eyes.

“As soon as I see for myself that June is getting better.”

“Do you want me to come in with you?”

Mara shook her head. “No . . . I don’t think so, not at first anyway. She . . . is nervous around you, anyway, and I wouldn’t want to shock her. Besides, I think it would be better if Angie doesn’t see her . . . not until I know that June’s all right.”

“It’s my bet that she’s done this on purpose,” Shane commented, helping Angie from the car. “I don’t trust her or any of the rest of the family, either.”