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But Hannah had learned the hard lesson with Wes that she couldn’t magically heal someone else’s pain. Sometimes people had to do the work themselves.

“She is exactly where she needs to be right now,” Hannah said instead. “That’s all I can tell you.”

He appeared to accept that, though the lines around his mouth deepened. “Thank you.”

He pulled a small notebook from his pocket, scribbled something on a page and tore it free. “Here’s my info. I’m at the Best Western on the edge of town.”

Hannah took the slip, tucking it carefully into her pocket.

Before she could say anything else, Carter barreled into the room.

“Hey, Hannah, can I have another—” He broke off, his gaze snagging on the older man. His entire face lit up, his eyes suddenly shining with joy. “Grandpa!” he yelled. “You’re here! You’re really here!”

If Hannah had harbored any doubts about Ed Walker’s feelings for his grandchildren, the naked longing that washed over his features erased them.

“Carter.” His voice broke on the name. “My boy.”

He swept Carter up into his arms, holding him so tightly Hannah almost winced. Carter clung back just as hard, small arms wrapped around his grandfather’s neck.

“Where have you been?” Carter demanded, pulling back enough to look at him. “Why haven’t you come to visit us? Mom said you guys were mad at each other. Were you mad at me and Riley too?”

“Oh, son. No.” Ed’s eyes shone. “Never. I was never mad at you. Or Riley. Not for a second. And I’m not mad at your mom either. I was stupid. And stubborn. I thought I was doing the right thing. I wasn’t.”

Carter frowned, clearly trying to sort through adult messiness with a six-year-old brain.

“We went to see Mom at the hospital for her birthday,” he said. “And she might be able to come home for Christmas this week, if the doctors say she can.”

The words seemed to hit Ed like a physical blow. His arms tightened around Carter. He looked at Hannah, stricken.

Hospital. Doctors.

Their eyes met, and she saw the question there, the dawning horror. Any thought she’d had about keeping the specifics from him crumbled.

“I need to find Riley,” Carter said suddenly. “She needs to see you too!”

He wriggled free and tore out of the room before Hannah could stop him.

Ed turned back to her, his face ashen. “What is it? What’s wrong with my daughter?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Hannah swallowed. There was no point in obfuscating now.

“She has cancer,” she said softly. “A rare blood cancer called myelofibrosis. She’s currently undergoing an experimental treatment at the Huntsman Cancer Institute in Salt Lake City.”

The color drained from his face. He sagged down onto her mother’s elegant sofa as if someone had cut his strings.

“Cancer,” he whispered. “No. Please, God, no.”

Hannah’s heart ached. For Morgan and for this man who had already lost a wife to the same disease and now had to hear the word again in connection with his child.

“Why didn’t she reach out to tell me?” His voice was raw. “I should have been here for her. How long has this been going on?”

“She was diagnosed last month. She’s been in Salt Lake since Thanksgiving,” she said gently.

She hesitated, then, because he looked so lost, added, “Tuesday night, we’re doing a benefit holiday concert. Some of the proceeds will go to help with her medical bills. It’s at the church near the Shelter Inn.”

“I’ll be there,” he said immediately. “You can bet I will.”

Before Hannah could reply, Riley rushed in, drawn by the commotion, followed closely by her younger brother.