Sanctuary by Nora Roberts

that left work. Work that took Jo to strange and faraway places, Kate thought. Often dangerous places of war and disaster. Work that she knew her young cousin had deliberately put ahead of a life and a family.
    Little girl , Kate thought, my poor, sweet little girl. What have you done to yourself?
    Kate tightened her fingers on the handle of her cup to keep them from trembling. “Were you hurt?”
    â€œNo. No,” Jo repeated and set her tea down to press her fingers to her aching eyes. “Just overwork, stress. I guess I overextended myself in the last couple of months. The pressure, that’s all.”
    The photographs. Mama.
    Kate drew her brows together. The line that formed between them was known, not so affectionately, as the Pendleton Fault Line. “What kind of pressure eats the weight off of you, Jo Ellen, and makes your hands shake?”
    Defensively, Jo clasped those unsteady hands together in her lap. “I guess you could say I haven’t been taking care of myself.” Jo smiled a little. “I’m going to do better.”
    Tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair, Kate studied Jo’s face. The trouble there went too deep to be only professional concerns. “Have you been sick?”
    â€œNo.” The lie slid off her tongue nearly as smoothly as planned. Very deliberately she blocked out the thought of a hospital room, almost certain that Kate would be able to see it in her mind. “Just a little run-down. I haven’t been sleeping well lately.” Edgy under Kate’s steady gaze, Jo rose to dig cigarettes out of the pocket of the jacket she’d tossed over a chair. “I’ve got that book deal—I wrote you about it. I guess it’s got me stressed out.” She flicked on her lighter. “It’s new territory for me.”
    â€œYou should be proud of yourself, not making yourself sick over it.”
    â€œYou’re right. Absolutely.” Jo blew out smoke and fought back the image of Annabelle, the photographs. “I’m taking some time off.”
    It wasn’t all, Kate calculated, but it was enough for now. “It’s good you’ve come home. A couple of weeks of Brian’s cooking will put some meat on you again. And God knows we could use some help around here. Most of the rooms, and the cottages, are booked straight through the summer.”
    â€œSo business is good?” Jo asked without much interest.
    â€œPeople need to get away from their own routines and pick up someone else’s. Most that come here are looking for quiet and solitude or they’d be in Hilton Head or on Jekyll. Still, they want clean linen and fresh towels.”
    Kate tapped her fingers, thinking briefly of the work stretched out before her that afternoon. “Lexy’s been lending a hand,” she continued, “but she’s no more dependable than she ever was. Just as likely to run off for the day as to do what chores need doing. She’s dealing with some disappointments herself, and some growing-up pains.”
    â€œLex is twenty-four, Kate. She should be grown up by now.”
    â€œSome take longer than others. It’s not a fault, it’s a fact.” Kate rose, always ready to defend one of her chicks, even if it was against the pecks of another.
    â€œAnd some never learn to face reality,” Jo put in. “And spend their lives blaming everyone else for their failures and disappointments.”
    â€œAlexa is not a failure. You were never patient enough with her—any more than she was with you. That’s a fact as well.”
    â€œI never asked her to be patient with me.” Old resentments surfaced like hot grease on tainted water. “I never asked her, or any of them, for anything.”
    â€œNo, you never asked, Jo,” Kate said evenly. “You might have to give something back if you ask. You might have to admit you need them if you let them need you. Well,