“I can’t stay here.” The words just slipped out. She had no right to feel shock at the sight of the woman Rhea. But telling herself she was a fool to suddenly feel like splintered glass didn’t help. Before she arrived she had never, never had any expectations where Kern was concerned.

“Trisha, you must be curious after all this time,” Julia said. “Don’t tell me the situation is the same as it was before. You’re not the same. I’ve waited and waited…”

Trisha’s jaw dropped. There had been no hint in five years that Julia had ever wished the two of them back together. Julia was the one who had coddled her Grosse Pointe style, decrying everything about the mountain life her son had chosen. “Exactly what have you been waiting for?” Trisha demanded.

Julia’s eyes shuttered, and she fussed with the blanket pulled to her chest. “You could do it now, Patricia. Convince him to come back home. You could have persuaded him before, but now… You’re a much more beautiful woman. You’ve got grace and style and confidence. I don’t blame you for hating all this-this primitive country-but if you were both back home…”

“Lord, I don’t believe this!”

Julia regarded her with utter calm. For a moment Trisha even wondered if Julia had arranged for the bluish tinge on her lips, the odd little half breaths, the physical weakness. And then she felt horribly guilty for the thought. “Oh, Julia,” she scolded wearily. “That really isn’t why you insisted on making this trip, is it?”

“I wanted to know how Kern was, of course. But Roberts could have driven me. There must be some reason I have a chauffeur,” Julia said reasonably.

“You told me his family was ill.”

“Hmm.”

Trisha rolled her eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. “Neither of us has been carrying a torch all this time. How could you even think it!”