by Marta Perry
She nodded, her smile stiff. No, they wouldn’t come again. All the Flanagans meant well, but Mandy needed a less chaotic environment than the one they provided.
Ryan reached her and lifted Mandy from her arms before she realized what he was doing. “I’ll walk you out.”
“I’ll take her.” They’d had this conversation before, hadn’t they? Ryan hadn’t listened to her then.
“Mandy’s fine with me, aren’t you, little girl?” He stroked Mandy’s hair with a gentle touch.
She hated to admit it, but he was right. Mandy snuggled against him, her face tucked into his strong shoulder. For some reason that was obscure to Laura, Mandy trusted him.
She said her goodbyes quickly, trying to evade repeated invitations and offers of help from each of the Flanagans. It seemed the goodbyes would never end, but finally she escaped out the front door with Ryan carrying Mandy.
She paused for an instant on the porch, inhaling the cool spring air and absorbing the quiet.
“Okay?” Ryan gave her a quizzical look.
She could hardly tell him that his family exhausted her. “Fine.” She gave him a meaningless smile and walked quickly to the steps, eager to put this evening behind her.
They went down the steps in silence, the warm spring night closing around them. The porch light cast a yellow glow on the walk, fading as they neared the car.
She swung the rear door open, struggling to find something polite and dismissive to say to Ryan.
“She is tired, isn’t she?” Ryan lowered Mandy to her booster seat and fastened the seatbelt carefully. He picked up the teddy bear. It looked tiny in his big hands as he tucked it against Mandy. “She’s almost asleep already,” he said softly.
Guilt flickered. “I shouldn’t have stayed so long. This was too much excitement for her.”
Ryan straightened, planting one hand against the car roof and looking at her questioningly. “Hey, I know we’re a noisy bunch, but we’re not that bad, are we?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” She could feel the heat in her cheeks. She hadn’t intended her words as an insult. He should realize that.
“It looked to me as if Mandy had a good time. Sure you’re not overreacting a little?”
She stiffened. “If you’re saying I’m overprotective of my daughter—”
“Hey, relax. I wasn’t criticizing.” He glanced at Mandy, asleep now with the bear cuddled against her chin, safe in the cocoon of her car seat. “I’d probably feel exactly the same if I were Mandy’s parent.”
Her flicker of anger died. “Maybe I am a little too protective.” The fact that he’d agreed with her made it easier to admit. “I just—well, I know I’m all Mandy has, so I have to do it right. I guess I still haven’t figured out how to let her learn without getting hurt.”
“Maybe that’s impossible.” He leaned toward her a little, and she caught the fresh scent of soap on his skin, mingled with the heady aroma of lilacs from the huge old bushes that flanked the driveway. “I don’t know how my folks managed with the five of us, and then taking in my cousin Brendan, too. We were always getting hurt.”
“Your parents had each other to rely on.” Her thoughts flickered to Jason. She’d learned the hard way not to rely on him.
“Even with a ton of family around willing to give you free advice, it’s not always easy to know what to do.”
His serious expression startled her. She wasn’t used to seeing somber reflection from Ryan, and she’d guess most other people weren’t, either. He was always so laughing and relaxed that it was hard to remember that he probably had his dark moments, too.
“Have they been giving you advice about something?”
Somehow the dusk and quiet of the warm summer evening made it easier to ask the personal question. It was as if, for the moment at least, they were enclosed together, separate from the happy, noisy family group she knew was behind the wide windows.
He shook his head. “Actually, this time I haven’t let them in on it. Sometimes other people’s expectations get in the way of knowing what’s best for you.”
“Is it something you want to talk about?”
“Are you offering to listen?” He leaned a little closer, until she could almost feel his breath against her face.
Her heart lurched. It took an effort to speak evenly.
“After everything you’ve done for us, listening is a small repayment.”
“No repayment needed. But actually, I’m thinking of making a career change.”
That startled her. “Leave the fire department?” She’d imagine that would create a stir in the Flanagan family. They’d all seemed so proud of their position. Even Brendan, the minister, was the fire department chaplain, he’d told her.
“Not leave entirely, no. I’ve applied for a position with the arson squad. It’s run by the fire department here in Suffolk, rather than the police like it is some places, but it’s a separate branch.”
“Is that really such a change? You’d still be a firefighter in a way, wouldn’t you?”
“You heard my dad. He’s so proud that Seth and Terry and I are in his old squad.” He frowned, his dark brows creating a V. “He had a hard time adjusting when Gabe got hurt and couldn’t fight fire anymore, and then his heart attack took him off the line.”
“You don’t want to disappoint him.” She understood, only too well, and was surprised at the similarity to her own life. She’d gladly have gone into the construction business with her father, but her mother wouldn’t hear of it. “He’d want you to do what was right for you, wouldn’t he?”
Ryan’s smile flickered. “He thinks he already knows what that is.”
“And you’re not so sure anymore.”
“I never considered any other line of work.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m looking for a different challenge. Or maybe I’m just trying to get out from under my big brothers’ shadows.”
She didn’t know what to say. She’d always thought Ryan Flanagan one of those lucky beings who are born confident, laughing and sure of himself. Now it looked as if he had doubts, too.
She felt for him—a sudden empathy that startled and disturbed her. She didn’t want to feel for anyone but her daughter. She had far too much responsibility in her life right now to leave room for anything else.
Luckily he didn’t seem to expect an answer from her. He touched her arm lightly, and she felt the warmth of that touch right through the fabric of her sweater.
“Hey, I’ll work it out. But thanks for listening. I’ll be glad to return the favor, any time.”
She managed to smile, to nod. Ryan meant well, but she didn’t have any intention of sharing her inner thoughts with anyone, least of all him. He’d come too far into her life already.
Now what exactly was he doing back here again? Ryan didn’t have a good answer to that question as he approached Laura’s building the next day. If those moments with Laura by her car the night before had taught him anything, it was that she spelled danger to a man like him.
He ought to stay as far away as possible from Laura McKay, with her fierce sense of responsibility and her prickly determination to do everything herself. Instead here he was, putting his head in the front door that stood ajar, probably to air the place out.
“Anybody home?” He tapped on the frame.
Mandy’s head jerked up. Had she responded to the sound or the vibration? He wasn’t sure. She had a child’s toy broom and dustpan, and she’d obviously been mimicking her mother’s work.
“Hi, Mandy.”
She broke into a smile and carefully finger-spelled his name.
“Good job.”
“What’s a good job?” Laura came in from the kitchen, carrying a bucket. “Hi, Ryan.”
“Mandy finger-spelled my name when I came in.”
A smile blazed across Laura’s face. “That is a good job.” She set the bucket on the floor and hugged the little girl, and for a moment the love in her eyes seemed stro
ng enough to light the world.
It was a warning, that love. It announced in no uncertain terms that he couldn’t wander into their lives and then wander out again. Laura and Mandy needed more than that.
I’m just helping out, he told his conscience firmly. Nothing else.
“You’re making progress.” He glanced around the large rectangular room that was cleared now of debris. The fireplace that covered most of one wall had obviously just been cleaned, revealing the mellow, rosy tone of the bricks.
“Not enough.” Laura followed the direction of his gaze, but her level brows drew down, as if she saw all that remained to be done instead of what she’d accomplished already. “The fire put me days behind my schedule.”
“I can spare some time to help on my off days, if you want.”
The corners of her wide mouth tucked in, as if she didn’t want to give anything away. “That’s not necessary. I can—”
“I know. You can do it yourself. That doesn’t mean an extra pair of hands wouldn’t make it go faster.”
She evaded his eyes, and he suspected she was searching for a good excuse. Or at least, a change of subject.
“Maybe so.” Her tone was noncommittal. “Tell me, have you talked to your folks yet about the new job?”
She’d opted for the change of subject. And he must have been suffering from a mental lapse when he’d told her about that. Why on earth would he talk to her about something he hadn’t even told his family?
“Not yet, but I have to.” He couldn’t suppress a grin.
“I just heard that I passed the test. I’ve been called for an interview.”
And once again, he’d told her something he’d told no one else.
She came closer, as if she needed to study his face seriously. “Are you happy about it?”
Was he? A good question. “I guess. The arson squad would be a challenge, if I got it. Lots of brainwork.” He grimaced. “To tell the truth, I’m better at physical challenges than mental ones.”
Maybe that was the problem. He liked the physical risks of firefighting, maybe too much. He’d told Laura about Dad’s heart attack, but he hadn’t told her all of it. Not about the part he’d played.
“Just tell them.” She put her hand lightly on his arm.
“They might surprise you. And if they’re upset, at least it will be out in the open. You can’t deal with it as long as they don’t know.”
“You’re pretty good in the advice department, you know that?”
She smiled slightly, shaking her head. “I should have learned something from all the mistakes I’ve made.”
A man who was interested in a woman would follow up on a comment like that. But he’d just told himself how wrong it would be to get interested in her, hadn’t he? Whatever he said next had to be noncommittal.
“Well, given the way rumors fly around the department, I’d better come clean before they hear it from someone else.”
Laura didn’t move, but she seemed to draw back a little. Her smile faded. She got the message.
She turned her attention to the bucket, wringing a sponge out as if it were a very important action. “Speaking of the department, I’d say you’ve more than done your duty here. The fire damage is cleaned up, and I’m back on target with my renovation.”
It was a nice, polite dismissal. Well, that was what he wanted, wasn’t it? He couldn’t get involved with her. He couldn’t let Mandy start to depend on him. Everyone knew he wasn’t dependable when it came to relationships.
He took a breath. For some reason, he couldn’t seem to find the words to agree with her. “I’ll just check that back door to be sure the new lock is in right, and then I’ll be on my way.”
She nodded, her smile stiff.
Right. He headed for the kitchen before he could say something he shouldn’t.
Fifteen minutes later he was still fiddling with a perfectly good lock. Maybe he ought to face the fact that he didn’t want to leave.
This isn’t about what you want, dummy. It’s about what’s the right thing to do.
His head came up at the sound of voices in the other room. Apparently Laura had company.
“Mr. Potter.” Laura didn’t sound happy to be interrupted yet again.
“Bradley, please. I thought you were going to call me Bradley.”
Bradley Potter. Nice, well-off, the last son of one of Suffolk’s founding families. Brad was a successful businessman, good-looking, single. Laura ought to be friendlier to someone like that.
“Another list of changes?” She didn’t sound particularly friendly at the moment. He heard the rustle of papers. “But I’ve already complied with the requirements from the historic preservation committee.”
“I’m so sorry.” Bradley’s tone exuded sympathy. “I wish I didn’t have to bring you bad news, but I’m sure you understand that we have to be very careful about any renovations that go on in the historic district.”
“I know that.” Laura snapped the words.
Maybe he’d better get in there before she got into a fight with one of the most influential men in town. He strolled into the room, enjoying the look of surprise on Brad’s face at the sight of him.
“Hey, Brad. What are you up to?”
“Ryan. What are you doing here?” Brad nodded stiffly, his immaculate dress shirt and flannel pants incongruous in what was essentially a construction site.
Still, he was a lot better for Laura and Mandy than a commitment-phobic firefighter.
“Just checking up on some of the repairs after the fire. You did know that Ms. McKay had a fire out in the back, didn’t you?”
“I heard.” Brad turned toward Laura. “I’m so sorry for all the trouble you’ve been having.” He nodded toward the papers in her hand. “And that I have to add to your problems at a time like this.”
Mandy came to lean against Ryan, and he put one hand on her shoulder. Maybe the child sensed the tension in the room and had picked him for a friend. Laura certainly looked as if she’d gotten some bad news.
“So how exactly are you adding to Ms. McKay’s problems?” Stay out of it, he told himself. But he didn’t seem to be listening.
Laura looked up from the papers, her face pale and tight. “The historic preservation committee has landed me with a new set of requirements. Two pages’ worth of things they didn’t tell me on the initial inspection.”
“As I was saying to Laura, the preservation committee is especially careful of any renovation in the historic district.” Brad’s tone was as smooth as silk. He must have practiced that statement a few times. “I might personally think they’re being a little unreasonable, but I have to do as the committee tells me.”
“Let me have a look at what they’re asking.” He reached for the papers.
But before he could reach them, Brad took them from Laura’s hands. “This is just a work sheet. I’ll have a more official list drawn up and drop it off for you.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was tight.
Brad seemed to hesitate, glancing from Ryan to Laura. “Look, I know these changes seem unduly harsh. Why don’t I have a word with the committee members unofficially, before this goes to its final format? Maybe I can get them to ease up on some of their requirements.”
“Would you?” Laura’s smile blazed, and Brad blinked as if the sun had just come out.
“Of course.” His voice warmed suddenly. “Of course I would.”
Hadn’t he been telling himself that Brad Potter was just the sort of man for Laura? He shouldn’t feel like punching the guy just because Laura was looking at him as if he were some sort of hero.
Laura hadn’t seen much of the Flanagans for several days, and nothing at all of Ryan. She ran the paint roller smoothly along the downstairs wall, admiring the rich burgundy she’d decided on after researching the original colors.
The floor refinishing had gone beautifully, and now that she could get the paint on the walls, this area was really shaping up. It would be
perfect for a small shop catering to the visitors in the historic district or a lovely living room for a buyer who wanted a private home.
Nolie Flanagan had enthused about the color when she’d stopped by earlier. She’d come with an invitation for Mandy to visit the farm and see the animals.
Laura had been evasive. Mandy would love to see the animals, of course, but she couldn’t help thinking it was better not to get too involved with the Flanagan family. She didn’t want to be anyone’s object of charity, no matter how sincere they were.
She frowned at the fresh paint. She ought to be honest with herself, at least. The truth was that she should stay away from them because she found herself far too attracted to Ryan’s easy smile for her peace of mind.
All she could concentrate on right now was Mandy’s welfare. There was no room in her life for anything else. She was happy Ryan hadn’t been around. So why did she feel so out of sorts?
She glanced at her watch. The plasterers were supposed to be here by now to do the third-floor walls. That was one thing she hadn’t felt competent to tackle herself. She put down the roller and stretched. Maybe she’d better take a break and call the plasterer.
Five minutes later she returned the phone to the cradle carefully, because if she didn’t, she just might throw the receiver against the wall. She clutched her hair with her hands, heedless of the paint she was probably spreading around, and squeezed her eyes closed. What else could possibly go wrong?
“What’s the matter?” The voice came like an echo of her thoughts.
She swung around, blinking back tears. She wouldn’t give in to that weakness, especially not in front of Ryan.
“Hi. I didn’t hear you come in.” And why did she always have to look like a total wreck whenever Ryan saw her?
He crossed the room toward her, his gaze fixed on her face. “Something’s wrong. What?”
She shook her head, appalled at how glad she was to see him. “Plasterers. They were supposed to show up today. Instead they’re suddenly so busy that they can’t possibly squeeze me in for at least a couple of weeks.”
