The good days were over, at least for now. “Are you in pain?” she asked Alice as she placed the breakfast tray on the table beside the bed. “No,” the woman answered—but it was a lie. Her dark eyes gave her away. “You’ve overdone.” Shannon placed her hand on Alice’s forehead and was thankful to find she wasn’t feverish. “Did you stay up late last night with your supper guest?” “No. Sheriff Dickson didn’t stay long after we finished eating. And truly, we did nothing but sit at the table and eat and talk.” She forced a smile. “And laugh. The sheriff is quite entertaining.” Shannon wasn’t fooled. Talking and laughing could be exhausting to the infirm. She’d seen that in the hospital. She should have warned Matthew something like this could happen. She should have demanded that he not have guests in his home. But his sister had done so well these past few days, it had been easy for all of them, Alice included, to forget that she was dying. It had been easy to begin to believe her improved appearance and increased strength would last and last.
