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supposed to do that? What’s she goingto live on, air?” He clamped his mouth shut. He’d gone too far, even though his intentions were good.
    “What are you implying?” She grabbed his arm to keep him from stepping away. “My grandmother doesn’t need to worry about money.”
    Was she putting on a front?
    “Maybe you ought to have a serious conversation with your grandmother.”
    Her grip tightened. “Tell me what you meant. What do you know, or think you know?”
    Fine, then. “I know I offered to lend her the money for the renovations, but she took out a loan on the house instead. I know Emma works for free half the time. I know the signs of financial trouble. If someone doesn’t step in, namely you, your grandmother could lose this place that means the world to her.”
    He yanked his arm free and grabbed the toolbox.
    “I’ll come back later and fix this.”
     
     
    Andrea was actually shaking. She watched Cal’s broad back as he retreated down the hall. She should talk to Grams—no, she should find out first from someone she trusted if there was any truth to Cal’s allegations. Emma. Emma knew everything that went on here.
    But even as she thought it, there was a tap on the front door, followed by a quick, “Anyone here?”
    “Uncle Nick.” She hurried to the door, to be swept into a hug. Soft whiskers and a scent of peppermint—that was Uncle Nick.
    He held her at arm’s length. “Well, if you’re not a sightfor sore eyes, Andrea. You’re looking beautiful, as always.”
    “And you’re the biggest flatterer in town, as always. You haven’t aged a bit.”
    She made the expected response automatically, but it was true. Maybe the beard and hair were a little whiter, his figure in the neat blue suit just a bit stouter, but his cheeks were still rosy and firm as apples. He had an aura of permanence and stability that was very welcome.
    “Ah, don’t tell me that. I know better.” He shook his head. “This is a sad business about Rachel.”
    She linked her arm with his. “She’s going to make a complete recovery—the doctors have promised. Come into the library. We have to talk.”
    He lifted bushy white eyebrows. “Where’s your grandmother?”
    “Taking a nap, thank goodness. She needs one, after yesterday’s upsets.”
    He nodded, glancing around the room and taking in the computer setup and file cabinets. “It’s sad to see this fine old room turned into an office. What your grandfather would have said, I don’t know.”
    There didn’t seem to be an answer to that. She gestured him to a chair, sitting down opposite him.
    He was surveying her with shrewd, kind blue eyes. “You’re worried, aren’t you? Tell Uncle Nick about it.”
    She had to smile. He wasn’t really their uncle, nor was his name Nick. Caroline had called him that when she was three because to her eyes, James Bendick, Grandfather’s junior partner, looked like St. Nicholas.
    “That’s what you always said. And you solved our problems with chocolate and peppermints.”
    “It’s a good solution.”
    “Not for this problem.” The worry, dissipated for a moment in the pleasure of seeing him, weighed on her again. “Tell me the truth, Uncle Nick. Is Grams in financial trouble?”
    “Who told you that? Not your grandmother.” His voice had sharpened.
    “No. Cal Burke told me. He seems to think she could lose the house.”
    “I’d call that an exaggeration.” He frowned. “And I’m not sure what business it is of his, in any event.”
    “Never mind him. Tell me what’s going on. I thought Grandfather left her well-off. I’ve never questioned that.”
    “Your grandmother never questioned it, either. Sad to say, maybe she should have.”
    “But the properties, his investments…” She couldn’t believe it. “Explain it to me.”
    Uncle Nick’s lips puckered. “I’m not sure I should. Your grandmother—”
    “Grams is depending on me.” Normally she’d appreciate his discretion, but not now.