Sister's Choice by Emilie Richards

salad was adorned with sprigs of mint.
    “Cash and Granny Grace are here!” Hannah said.
    Granny Grace? Of all the people Jamie had anticipated, Cash’s grandmother hadn’t been one of them. She stepped out from behind the breakfast bar just as one of the least grandmotherly-looking women she had ever seen crossed the threshold.
    Granny Grace was tall, almost as tall as Cash, who entered behind her. She was willowy and slender, with iron-gray hair and sharp features. The features were belied by creases and folds around dancing dark eyes adorned with rectangular black-rimmed glasses. A wide mouth signaled decades of smiles and laughter.
    The most extraordinary thing about the woman was her sense of style. Rarely had Jamie seen lime green and purple used together with such abandon. Harem pants billowed around her hips and tucked in at her ankle; a hip-length vest, sprinkled heavily with crystal beads, sparkled like a fireworks display. She wore gold tennis shoes, and her fingernails were a deep scarlet that matched her lipstick.
    Judging by the wrinkles and the patches of scalp visible under spiky hair, this woman could well be someone’s granny. But judging by her bouncing step, her flamboyance and obvious delight with life, she was a teenager.
    What exactly did it say about a man when he brought his grandmother to visit?
    “You must be Jamie.” Granny Grace extended her hand. “Let the rest of them call me Granny Grace. You call me Grace.”
    Jamie shook, impressed by the strength of the narrow, age-spotted hand. “I’m so glad to have you here. Cash didn’t tell me exactly who he was bringing. Now I can thank you for the pie.”
    “Cash is a rogue and a renegade. It skipped a generation. His mother is as tightly reined in as a carriage horse. Sandra’s a good daughter, mind you, but I was thrilled to see the mischief emerge again in this one. Until he came along, I was afraid all my genes had been flushed down the eternal toilet.” She nodded toward Cash. “Although he could do with some breaking in.”
    Jamie laughed. “I bet if anybody could do it, you’d be the one.”
    “Your oldest daughter has your dimples. She’s your spitting image. Was there a father?” She waved away her own question. “Never mind. Clearly there had to be, but he didn’t leave much of a footprint, did he? Now the other one? The leprechaun princess? Not a bit of you in the face, but I bet you had that same amount of energy and enthusiasm as a child.”
    “I’ll have to ask my sister. She would know.”
    “Don’t bother. I can see it in your eyes. I’m not fond of women who look like everything’s been washed out of them.”
    Cash put his hand on his grandmother’s shoulder. “Granny Grace has no real opinions about anything.”
    “There’s no reason to keep what I’ve learned to myself, dear. I need to share, share, share while I can.”
    Jamie was enchanted. Normally she was suspicious of outrageous women. Her mother was all flash and dazzle, with little under the rhinestone exterior to anchor her to reality. But Grace had already paid close attention to Jamie’s children and made connections. Jamie thought this was a woman who probably paid close attention to everything and everyone.
    “So what do you think of the cabin?” Cash asked his grandmother.
    “I think it’s a lovely little postage stamp, and I think these girls are going to need that playhouse you’re building for them, so their poor mother can breathe a little. I suggest turrets and portholes and places to hide secret messages.”
    Cash’s gaze swung to Jamie’s. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s a conspiracy brewing.”
    “And we just met.” Jamie flashed the dimples that were exactly like Hannah’s. “Just think what kind of trouble we’ll get into when we’ve known each other a week.”
    Grace did not eat like a bird. She ate the way she dressed, with gusto. Once she was seated at the table, she listened raptly as the