Chapter 1

There were days when Molly Snow loved her sister, but this wasn't one. She had risen at dawn to be Robin's water-bearer, only to learn that Robin had changed her mind and decided to do her long run in the late afternoon, fully expecting Molly to accommodate her.

And why not? Robin was a world-class runner--a marathoner with a dozen wins under her belt, incredible stats, and a serious shot at making the Olympics. She was used to people changing their plans to suit hers. She was the star.

Resenting that for the millionth time, Molly said no to late afternoon and, though Robin followed her from bedroom to bathroom and back, refused to give in. Robin could have easily run that morning; she just wanted to have breakfast with a friend. And wouldn't Molly love to do that herself! But she couldn't, because her day was backed up with work. She had to be at Snow Hill at seven to tend to the greenhouse before customers arrived, had to do purchasing, track inventory and sales, preorder for the holiday season; and on top of her own chores, she had to cover for her parents, who were on the road. That meant handling any issues that arose and, worse, leading a management meeting--not Molly's idea of fun.

Her mother wouldn't be pleased that she had let Robin down, but Molly was feeling too put-upon to care.

The good news was that if Robin went running late in the day, she would be out when Molly got home. So, with the sun bronzing her face through the open windows, Molly mellowed as she drove back from Snow Hill. She pulled mail from the roadside box, without asking herself why her sister never did it, and swung in to crunch down the dirt drive. The roses were a soft peach, their fragrance all the more precious for the short life they had left. Beyond were the hydrangeas she had planted, turned a gorgeous blue by a touch of aluminum, a sprinkling of coffee grounds, and lots of TLC.

Pulling up under the pin oak that shaded the cottage she and Robin had rented for the past two years but were about to lose, Molly opened the back of the Jeep and began to unload. She was nearly at the house, juggling a drooping split-leaf philodendron, a basket of gourds, and a cat carrier, when her cell phone rang.

She could just hear it. I'm sorry for yelling this morning, Molly, but where are you now? My car won't start, I'm in the middle of nowhere, and I'm beat.

Molly was shifting burdens to free up a key when the phone rang again. A third ring came as she knelt to put her load down just inside the door. That was when guilt set in. Seconds shy of voice mail, she pulled the phone from her jeans and flipped it open.

"Where are you?" she asked, but the voice at the other end wasn't Robin's.

"Is this Molly?"

"Yes."

"I'm a nursing supervisor at Dickenson-May Memorial. There's been an accident. Your sister is in the ER. We'd like you to come."

"A car accident?" Molly asked in alarm.

"A running accident."

Molly hung her head. Another one of those. Oh, Robin, she thought and peered into the carrier, more worried about the little amber cat huddled inside than about her sister. Robin was a chronic daredevil. She claimed the reward was worth it, but the price? A broken arm, dislocated shoulder, ankle sprains, fasciitis, neuroma--you name it, she'd had it. This small cat, on the other hand, was an innocent victim.

"What happened?" Molly asked distractedly, making little sounds to coax the cat out.

"The doctor will explain. Do you live far?"

No, not far. But experience had taught her that she would only have to wait for X-rays, even longer for an MRI. Reaching into the carrier, she...