And yet, this boy who had appeared late in his life, was a real gift. Jack liked him. They seemed to think alike about a lot of things; they laughed at the same time, scowled at the same time. He was sharp and he should probably think about college. Jack would encourage that when the time was right. So when he thought that he just should have been celibate all those years ago, he reminded himself that, had he done that, Denny would not be in his life right now.

And this young man was quality. He was respectful, cheerful, considerate…. Oh, how he wished he could remember the woman who had raised him!

“I wonder, Denny… Remember those pictures of your mom you showed me? Would you be willing to loan me one? I bet I’ll remember a lot of stuff about us eventually.”

“Sure,” he said, grinning. “I’ll dig it out for you.”

Pastor Noah Kincaid was driving out of town on a sunny Saturday afternoon when he passed Lydie Sudder’s house. Something just wasn’t right there. He’d waved at her as he’d passed by but she hadn’t waved back even though she was sitting on the porch. Noah made a wide U-turn and went back, parking in front of the little house. He saw immediately what was amiss—it was still pretty cool outside and yet she was sitting on her front porch wearing only her slip.

“Lydie?” he said, walking up to the porch.

She lifted her eyes and smiled, but there was a faraway look in them; she was dazed. Noah had spent a lot of time visiting in nursing homes and hospitals over the years and he knew Lydie was elderly, diabetic, arthritic and had a heart ailment of some kind.

“Well, my dear,” he said with a smile, lifting her arm at the elbow. “We’d better get you inside and find your robe or dress. And we’ll call Dr. Michaels to come take a look, see if your sugar is out of whack or something….”

“Hmm?” she said, smiling a bit. Though she spent almost every Sunday sitting up close to the front in his church, clearly she wasn’t sure who he was. She stood at his urging and allowed herself to be led inside.

She was so frail, he found himself thinking. He wasn’t sure of her age, just that she was white-haired, bony, elderly and felt so fragile in his grasp. He led her to the kitchen and sat her down at the table. “Just give me a second, Lydie, then I’ll find your robe and slippers.” He picked up the kitchen phone and called Cameron Michaels at home—it was Saturday and there would be no one in the clinic. He was quick and to the point. “Hi, Cam, I’m at Lydie Sudder’s house. I found her on her porch wearing only her slip and she’s out of it. She doesn’t seem to recognize me.”

“I’ll come,” he said. “Can you smell her breath?”

“Sure, but I didn’t detect anything like fruity breath.” He leaned down toward Lydie’s mouth; Lydie fanned her hands rapidly, trying to get him out of her space as if he were a gnat. “I don’t get anything, Cam. I’m sorry, I don’t know how to test her sugar levels.”

“Is she agitated?”

“Only when I’m trying to smell her breath,” Noah said. “Wanna hurry?”

“I’m on my way. Do me a favor and call Mel at home, get her rolling in case we have an emergency.”

“Sure thing.”

Noah did as he was asked and then went in search of a robe or some sort of cover-up, but he found a dress and shoes in the bedroom doorway. It was as though she’d stripped right there and had gone outside. He took the dress back to her and she was very cooperative in allowing him to help her into the dress, then the shoes. Then he sat down at the table across from her. “Well, Lydie, do you have any idea who I am?”

She smiled at him and nodded, but said not a word.

“I’m Noah, Lydie. Pastor Kincaid. Are you feeling okay?”

She merely smiled faintly and drew a circle on the table with her index finger. After just a few minutes she seemed to come back to reality. She tilted her head, frowned slightly and said, “Noah?”

It was his turn to smile. “Well, hello.”

“I’m sorry, Noah, I didn’t hear the door.”

Oh, this was going to be hard. “How do you feel, Lydie? You seemed to be in a bit of a daze there for a while.”

She laughed lightly, patiently. “I go to the kitchen, can’t remember why I went, have to feel the toothbrush to see if I’ve brushed my teeth, burned a batch of cookies just last week. Forgetful old woman.” Then she frowned. “Noah, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear the door.”

“Lydie, I found you sitting on the porch in your slip. You didn’t seem to recognize me. I’ve called Dr. Michaels. He’ll be here in a few moments. Meanwhile, can we check your sugar? I don’t know how but I know you do it every day.”

She began to tremble a bit. “Yes,” she said weakly. “Oh my goodness. My slip? Oh, my heavens!”

“Don’t get all upset. You weren’t exposed. Only your arms were na**d. You were adequately covered. I found your dress on the floor. Do you remember me helping you get into it?”

She shook her head and went to a kitchen cupboard, retrieved her testing kit and brought it to the kitchen table. She sat back down, used the kit to test a tiny drop of blood and waited patiently. “Hundred and thirty—that’s okay, right? I think that’s okay.”

“Have you been having periods of forgetfulness, Lydie? Confusion?”

She nodded gravely. “My health has been poor for so long, but my mind has been strong. Why, Pastor? Does that seem fair? I thought the diabetes or my heart would get me first.”

“It’s going to be all right, Lydie,” he said. “We’re going to get you some help.”

“We both know…” She stopped and never finished that sentence. What they both knew was that if it was what it probably was, there wasn’t a lot of help for it. “You know, Pastor, how we always say God won’t give us more than we can handle?”

“Yes, Lydie.”

She sighed. “I wish God didn’t have such a high opinion of me.”

After a couple of hours of fishing in the early afternoon, Denny followed Jack back to the bar. They both walked through the back door into the kitchen to find Paige and Preacher setting up dinner, little Dana Marie in her high chair nearby.

“Jack, Noah’s waiting for you in the bar—there was some problem with Lydie,” Preacher said.

“Really? She okay?” Jack said, quickly washing the river off his hands.

Preacher shook his head. “Sounds like she’s not completely well. Better talk to Noah.”

Jack hurried into the bar, frowning with worry. Noah was sitting up at the bar with a cup of coffee and a notebook he’d been writing in. “Noah, what’s going on?”

Noah flipped the notebook closed. “A couple of hours ago I was passing Lydie’s house and saw that she was sitting on her porch in her slip, not fully dressed. I stopped of course. She was disoriented. I thought it might be her diabetes, so I shuffled her inside and called Cameron. Her blood pressure and sugar levels are fine—fine for her, anyway. Mel came, as well—she dropped your kids with your sister. Lydie’s okay now—she got confused, but I helped her with her dress and now she is very embarrassed, but lucid. However…”

“However?” Jack pushed.

Noah took a deep breath. “She was really gone, Jack. Totally out of this world. Mel poked around her house, with her permission of course. She asked me to follow her around. What she found wasn’t so good. I’m afraid there are signs of dementia, perhaps Alzheimer’s. There are dirty plates with dried food in the bathtub, too many of her pans are scorched, she doesn’t seem to have bathed, she might be forgetting to eat and with diabetes…”

“I wonder if she’s getting her shots,” Jack said.

Noah shrugged. “Apparently she got her insulin today. Not long after Cameron and Mel arrived to give her a little physical, she was perfectly lucid. She’s very frightened, though. Over her physical infirmities she had some control, but over this? I’ve been visiting hospitals and nursing homes for a long time now, Jack—sometimes it comes and goes pretty quickly—people can be out of it one minute and back on earth the next. There are symptoms she might’ve chalked up to growing older. We all forget why we went to the kitchen, but crossing the street and not remembering how to get home? That’s pretty serious, I’m afraid. And the problem is if she’s burning up a pan of grease while she’s not of sound mind, it could be a disaster. Not just for her, but for the neighborhood, if you get my drift. They might want a better assessment—Mel and Cam—but if you ask me, Lydie’s headed for assisted living. At the very least.”

And her only living relative, her grandson, Rick, was a newly married, full-time, working college student in Oregon.

“She isn’t safe alone anymore, Jack,” Noah said. “Until something can be found for her, we’re going to have to get someone to stay with her.”

Jack ran his hand around the back of his neck; it had suddenly become sweaty. “Wonder if Mel can think of anyone. I guess Rick should try to get down here for a quick weekend—but someone’s gotta explain about things first. How’s Lydie taking this?”

“She cried,” Noah said. “Broke my heart. She doesn’t want to be a burden to anyone. She’s a very proud woman. She’s managed her way through so many difficult situations for so many years—raised an orphaned grandson, held strong while he was critical from war injuries in Iraq, suffered ill health for years, lived on the edge of poverty. All she’s got is the house. She’s worried about losing the house and she wants Rick to have something when she’s gone….”

“Rick’s better off with a degree than that old house,” Jack said dismissively.

“Is this your good friend Rick’s grandma?” Denny interrupted. “The old lady in that little white house down the street?”

“That’s Lydie,” Jack replied. “This is awful, Noah. But I should’ve been ready for it. She’s old—her health has been poor for years. She’s gotten by so well in spite of that, I think we all took her for granted.”

“Left alone she could get hurt,” Noah said. “She could get lost, go into a diabetic coma, burn the town down….”

“Can she be left alone at all?” Jack asked.

“Mel and Cameron will have to be the final word on that,” Noah said. “When she’s fine, she seems perfectly fine. I think we have to start checking on her several times throughout the day.”

“Think it would help if I stayed there at night?” Denny asked.

Both men turned to look at him in surprise.

Denny just shrugged. “Not forever,” he said. “I have to work during the day and I’d keep all my things at the apartment over the Fitch’s garage, but for a while I could just sleep there so nothing happens during the night. So she doesn’t get out and get lost, or start a fire.”

“You would do that?” Jack asked.

“If it would help. I know her a little. She always talked to me if I walked by. I saw her in here a few times. Once she called me Rick. I didn’t think anything about it. Old people, y’know?”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Denny,” Jack said. “She’s my responsibility while Rick’s away—I gave him my word. I have to get this figured out real quick.”

“Listen, call Rick at school,” Denny said. “Tell him his grandma’s slipping. Her physical health is hanging in there but her mind isn’t what it was, and tell him I’ll stay with her at night—sleep on her couch or something—till something gets arranged for her. Tell him not to worry too much—lotta people around here to pitch in. Course you guys are going to have to check on her a lot during the day—she could just as easy burn down the house in daylight.”

Jack looked almost confused. “Why would you do something like that? For someone you barely know?”

Denny smiled. “Well, I know how important Rick is to you. I know he’s a Marine. Why wouldn’t I help out a brother? Doesn’t cost me anything to sleep on an old lady’s couch for a few nights,” he added with a shrug. “Tell Rick everything is going to be all right. We’ll get through it.”

Rick Sudder was able to get time off from his job and school and arrived in Virgin River less than a week later, but his return to his hometown was bittersweet. He found his grandmother in good hands with his friends watching out for her by day and a new acquaintance sleeping on her couch at night—but he knew immediately he couldn’t leave her there. If a nursing home could have been found for her in one of the larger Humboldt County towns, she would still be too far away for him to check on her, to make sure she was getting the care she needed and, most importantly, to visit her regularly.

He would have to close up the house and take her back to Oregon with him.

Complicated details were being quickly sorted out; the house had already been put in his name by Lydie, who’d had much foresight in this matter long before she became confused. She had never told Rick what she had done. Ricky’s young wife, Liz, had stayed behind in Oregon to try to find nursing home care for Lydie, something that could take a while, meaning they would have to keep her with them in their small apartment until a suitable spot became available. Rick already had a power of attorney so that he could act on Lydie’s behalf. He packed up Lydie’s things and some mementos of his childhood but, for now, the house was going to be closed up, the utilities turned off, until they had a better picture of the future.