Saundra was an elegant African American, tall, slim, and stylish. She wore her gray hair cropped close to her head and today was dressed in white pants and a burgundy blouse. Neither had a designer label. Saundra was far from wealthy, but she did have cla.s.s.

A retired nurse, she had only been frequenting the shop for the last few years, but she was a lifelong knitter. That made her the first to tackle complex patterns, which she was happy to teach to others.

Dana caught Saundra's eye and gestured her over. Taking the baby from her breast, she put her to her shoulder and patted her back. But when she glanced at the door again, Saundra hadn't moved. Her large dark eyes were on the baby. She seemed unsure.

"I'll send her over," Gillian said as she rose. "I have to leave anyway." She kissed Dana, then the baby. "I'll have the pictures printed. Lotsa copies. Keep an eye on Ellie Jo, okay?"

"I will," Dana said, "and thank you for the quilt. You know what it means to me."

Gillian smiled and went to Saundra, who approached with her eyes on the baby. She went behind Dana's chair and bent down to better see Lizzie's face. She touched the child's head with a trembling hand.

"I heard about this little one," she said ever so softly. "h.e.l.lo, Elizabeth." She stroked Lizzie's head, then, still softly, asked Dana, "May I hold her?"

Dana transferred Lizzie to unquestionably able arms.

"Oh my," Saundra cooed. She had one hand under the baby's head, one under her bottom. "Look at this. Look at this."

"Didn't expect it, did ya?" Dana quipped.

"No, ma'am, I surely did not," Saundra said with a drawl not usually heard in her voice. "She is clearly a face from the past. This is quite stunning."

Dana liked that word. "It's also mystifying. We had no idea I had a relative who was African American."

"It isn't something that people of color who have lost that color often discuss."

"But you saw it right away."

"Oh yes," Saundra said with the arch of a brow. "She is not Hispanic. My, my, my," she sang to the baby.

Dana studied Saundra's features. Her lips were full, but her nose didn't have the breadth it would have had if she'd been of pure African descent.

"You're part white, aren't you?"

"I am," Saundra said, still singing to the baby. "My mama was black and my daddy white." With the utmost care, she put the baby to her shoulder. Holding her there as though she were delicate crystal, she drew slow circles on Lizzie's back with the flat of long, red-tipped fingers.

"Did you worry about having children yourself?" Dana asked. They had never before discussed race; as with David, it had always been irrelevant.

"I never had children," Saundra reminded her.

"Because of this?"

"Because there were too many others to care for. But if it's color you're asking about, no, I wouldn't have worried. I'm comfortable in my skin. I'd have been comfortable with theirs."

Tara joined the conversation. "Do you have siblings?"

"Not now. I did, though. A brother. He died several years back. He was much older."

"What did he look like?" Dana asked.

Saundra smiled crookedly. "Even more gray and wrinkled than me."

"You are not wrinkled," Dana said, because other than a few crow's feet, Saundra's skin was remarkably tight. "And, besides, that's not what I mean."

"I know," she said, relenting. "In his youth, my brother was a handsome devil. He was tall, lean, and lighter than me."

"Did he ever have children?"

"Oh yes," she enunciated clearly, "quite a few."

"Huh," Tara mused. "He spread it around."

"I would have put it more delicately," Saundra said. "But yes."

"What did the children look like?" Dana asked.

"He preferred white women, so the children were white."

"Very white?" Dana wanted to know how many generations it took for color to vanish. It might give her a hint as to how far back to look.

"Some were very white. Others looked like this sweet one here."

"Why did he prefer white women?" Tara asked.

Putting her cheek to the baby's head, swaying now from side to side, Saundra said softly, "I guess he thought white had more status than black."

"Do you?" Dana asked.

Saundra shrugged. "I think higher percentages of poor people are uneducated and criminally disposed, and more poor people are black than white. I don't necessarily buy into the stereotype, but I understand its source."

Dana was unsettled. "Do you see me as superior to you because my skin is white? I must have some mixed blood."

Saundra snorted. "You're not black."

"I am," Dana insisted. "The one-drop rule says I'm black." But she felt like an impostor.

Saundra rolled her eyes as if to say, Spare me. "I don't see you as superior to me, because you've never acted that way. You relate to me as you relate to your own grandmother, and Ellie Jo and I are alike. We both came from upwardly mobile families and have solid enough nest eggs to live comfortably." She frowned. "Is Ellie Jo all right, by the way? She seemed disturbed when I pa.s.sed her."

"She was," Dana said with another look at the door. "I don't know what's the matter. She hasn't come back yet."

"Should I go over and check on her?" Tara asked.

"No. If she's not back in a few more minutes, I'll go. That nest egg, Saundra-were you just prudent all those years?"

"Some. I also inherited a bit." She smiled. "I don't feel inferior now. It was different when I was young. I used to dwell on it then. For years, I was a maid."

"I thought you were a nurse," Tara said with a frown.

"From the time I was sixteen to the time I got that degree, I cleaned toilets and washed clothes. I didn't feel superior to anyone then, but would it have been any different if I'd been white and doing those things? Being a maid brings with it a certain mind-set, regardless of color. The one advantage a white maid has over a black maid is that going back and forth on the bus, no one guesses the truth of what she does." She tipped her head and peered at Lizzie. "I think this angel is sleeping," she whispered.

Tara lit up. "Put her in the cradle, Dana. Let her sleep there. I want to see what you've done on the sweater."

With an exquisitely tender expression, Saundra held the baby in front of her for another minute before returning her to Dana.

Lizzie's eyes were closed, mouth puckered as she nursed in her dreams. Then her lips parted-and there was Hugh again in the corners.

With a rush of feeling, Dana put her cheek to Lizzie's. "One minute she's so real, the next I can't believe she's here." She held her for another minute until the wave of emotion pa.s.sed. Then she lowered her into the cradle and reached back for the quilt. "Did you see this?" she asked Saundra.

"I surely did," Saundra said, smiling broadly.

"You did some of it, didn't you? Which part? Wait. I know." Spreading out the quilt, Dana pointed to a yellow square, then a pale blue one, displaying a star and a seahorse, each in the same color as its field but set apart by contrasting st.i.tches, in Saundra's inimitable style. Dana hugged her. "I adore this, Saundra. Thank you. My baby is so loved." Since the baby didn't need the quilt for warmth, she folded it over the foot of the cradle.

"How's your husband doing with her?" Saundra asked when Tara was gone.

"Great," Dana enthused. "He changes diapers, burps her, walks her when she cries. He had a meeting in the office, so I thought I'd bring her here."

"What does he think of her color?"

"He's surprised."

"Upset?"

"Oh, I don't think Hugh's upset about her color," she said, giving him the benefit of the doubt. "He's upset with me for not knowing my background. But he loves Lizzie."

"He should," Saundra said. "She's his child."

Dana glanced toward the door. "No sign of my grandmother. I think I'd like to check on her while the baby's sleeping. Will you be sitting here?"

Saundra smiled. "I won't move."

Walking at a clip, Dana went down the path and climbed the back steps of the house. "Ellie Jo?"

There was no response from her grandmother, only from the cat, who was meowing halfway up the stairs. The tabby didn't scoot down the steps in her usual haste to rub Dana's leg, but continued to meow. Something was wrong.

"Gram?" Dana called, frightened. Preceded by the cat, she ran up the stairs. "Gram?"

Veronica led her down the hall to Elizabeth's bedroom, where Ellie Jo sat on the floor at the base of the attic ladder. Her face was ash-pale, her breathing shallow and fast. Books were scattered around her, a half-empty carton on its side.

Dana ran over and crouched down. "What happened?"

"I was coming down."

"Carrying this box? And you fell. Does anything hurt?"

"My foot."

Dana was already reaching for the phone. She quickly punched in the line to the store. Trying to sound calm, she said, "Olivia, it's me. I'm at the house. Would you send Saundra and Tara?"

"No need for that," Ellie Jo said as soon as she'd hung up. "I'm all right." She tried to rise, but Dana held her down.

"Saundra's a nurse. Indulge me, please. Are those the textbooks you mentioned?"

"There's nothing else up there."

"Dana?" Tara called from downstairs.

"In my mother's room."

Seconds later there were sounds on the stairs, then the two women appeared, with Lizzie in Saundra's arms. By the time Saundra determined that the only serious damage done by Ellie Jo's fall was to her ankle, Ellie Jo was breathing more evenly. When she refused an ambulance, Dana insisted on driving.

Between the three of them, they got Ellie Jo to her feet and managed to get her downstairs. But when Tara offered to take her to the hospital, Dana refused. "I'm taking her."

"What about the baby?"

"I have everything she needs, and I can nurse her when she's hungry. Really, I won't be comfortable staying here. Besides, you have to get home for the kids."

Tara tried to argue, but Dana was firm. When Saundra offered to ride along with Ellie Jo, it was settled.

Lizzie must have known that her great-grandmother was hurt, because she slept through much of the drive and, once inside the hospital, continued sleeping in the sling, snug to Dana's body.

Ellie Jo's broken ankle was a simple one. She was fitted with a walking cast and crutches, which she was told to use for the first several days.

Relieved, Dana brought the car around to the front door of the hospital. She had no sooner settled her grandmother inside than she saw Hugh. He stood on the far side of the entrance, with his hand on the shoulder of an attractive auburn-haired woman. They were deep in conversation.

Dana had no idea who the woman was or why he was with her, but she was shaken by the sight of him. She couldn't just climb into the car and drive off.

"Be right back," she told Ellie Jo, and quickly crossed the main lobby. She hadn't quite reached Hugh when he looked up, caught sight of her, and went pale.

Chapter 12.

Hugh's first thought when he spotted Dana was that something was wrong with the baby. "Where's Lizzie?"

"In the car," Dana said, and quickly added, "with Saundra. My grandmother fell and broke her ankle. It's been set. I was just about to take her home."

Not the baby, then. He felt a wave of relief, followed by another concern. He liked Ellie Jo. She had never treated him as anything less than a grandson, and she wasn't as young as she had once been. "Is she all right?" When Dana nodded, he said, "You should have called. I'd have helped."

"You were at the office. I didn't want to bother you." Her eyes sent a more poignant message.

Unable to go there, he said, "Dana, this is Crystal Kostas. I'll be representing her. Her son is upstairs recovering from surgery. Crystal, my wife, Dana," he said. Then, wanting to talk to Dana, he said to Crystal, "I think we're set for now. Call as soon as you've written stuff in that notebook. You have my home number?" When Crystal nodded, he took Dana's arm and started back toward the car. "How did Ellie Jo fall?"

"She was getting something in the attic and lost her footing coming back down the ladder. What's wrong with that woman's son?"

"He was. .h.i.t by a car. He's four."