Читать книгу Her Only Hero - Marta Perry - Страница 9

Ryan lifted his hands. “I give up. Don’t shoot.”

Laura’s heart pounded, as if once the adrenaline started to flow, she couldn’t stop it. “I’m sorry.” She realized she was still holding the two-by-four. It hit the ragged linoleum with a clatter.

He lowered his hands cautiously, probably not sure she was really disarmed. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you were at the hospital.”

“I came back to check the house.”

He nodded toward the teddy bear that was clutched under her arm. “And to find something important, I guess.”

She held the bear a little tighter. “He’s important to Mandy. She likes to sleep with him.”

“How is she?” Ryan leaned against a sooty counter, hands braced against its edge, apparently not minding the dirt. He’d exchanged his uniform for jeans and a dark-blue knit shirt, and he’d picked up a streak of soot across the front of the shirt, presumably since he’d entered the house. The concentrated light of the torch cast his strong face into sharp relief.

She forced herself to concentrate, her wits still scattered after finding him here so unexpectedly. “She’s going to be all right. The doctor thought she should stay until tomorrow to be sure there aren’t any aftereffects from the smoke.”

“That’s good.” He studied her face. “You look as if they should have kept you, too.”

“I’m fine.” She was getting tired of saying that. “I don’t want to be rude, but what are you doing here?”

“Fixing the door.” He gestured toward the door that led onto the porch, and she realized belatedly that the powerful torch he’d set on the counter was trained on the opening. The door sagged on its hinges.

“You don’t have to do that.”

He shrugged. “I broke it. Seems like the least I can do is fix it.”

“I can take care of the door. I don’t need any help.” She had to sound strong, because she was unaccountably weepy at the thought that Ryan Flanagan had actually come back to do something for her.

“Not even from an old school friend?” He gave her the easy grin that charmed so readily.

She blinked, startled. “I thought you didn’t recognize me.”

“You’re Laura Jane Phillips. At least, it used to be Phillips. You were a year behind me at Suffolk High. Am I right?”

She nodded. So he had remembered her. Or perhaps someone had told him who she was.

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were yesterday?” His eyebrows lifted. “Or didn’t you remember me?”

“No one could forget the Flanagans.” She answered the second question first, evading his eyes. “I just—didn’t think it was appropriate to get into old home week when you were here on business.”

He leaned casually against the filthy counter, as if ready to stay and chat all night. “It bugged me all day, trying to figure out why you looked so familiar to me. How are your folks?”

“They’ve retired to Arizona. My dad’s health isn’t very good.” The usual pang of concern gripped her heart at the thought of her father.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I guess otherwise he’d be here doing the renovation for you.”

She nodded. It wasn’t necessary to confide in Ryan that her father didn’t know she was doing the rehab herself, for that very reason. If Dad knew, he’d try to come and probably kill himself in the process.

As for her mother—well, she’d stopped trying to figure her mother out a long time ago. She just knew she couldn’t count on her for help with this or anything else.

Ryan relaxed his long frame against the counter, not seeming in any hurry to get on with the door-fixing. “Anyway, I didn’t know you’d come back to Suffolk. I thought you were living in Philadelphia.”

“How on earth would you know that?” She hadn’t imagined he’d remember who she was, let alone know where she’d gone after school.

He grinned. “You’re forgetting my mother, with her encyclopedic knowledge of anyone who’s ever attended our church. Once I mentioned you, she trotted out everything she knew, including the fact that you were married and living in Philly. She was surprised we haven’t seen you in church since you’ve been back.”

Siobhan Flanagan had taught her in church school twice—once in kindergarten, then again in junior high. She had a gentle manner, a warm smile and a love that extended to even the most rebellious of teens.

Still, however warm her memories of Ryan’s mother, she was not going to defend her failure to attend church to him. “Please greet her for me. And really, I can take care of the door.”

He shoved away from the counter in a smooth, even movement. “Tell you what. You hold the boards and I’ll pound. We’ll have it secure in no time.”

That was probably the fastest way to get him out of here, so she set the flashlight and teddy bear down and went to the door. The acrid scent of wet, burned wood from the back porch sent a wave of nausea through her, and she forced it down angrily.

Ryan had apparently brought a few two-by-fours with him, because the wood gleamed new. He put one of the boards against the door, and she braced it with both hands.

He used the hammer with quick, effective strokes. The board vibrated from his force, jolting her hands.

“So, after your husband’s death, you decided to come home and buy this place.” The pounding punctuated his words, and she felt the flex of his muscles where his arm brushed her shoulder.

“Not exactly. My husband had bought the building a couple of years ago for some business venture he had in mind, but he never got around to doing anything with it. So I decided to fix it up.”

She wouldn’t add that this building was the only legacy Jason had left her and Mandy. That everything else he’d received from his father had been frittered away on one foolish scheme or another, until his father had finally cut him off, saying Jason would have to pay for his own mistakes. Apparently he’d put her and Mandy in the mistake category.

“You plan to live here?” Ryan propped another board across the door, and it gleamed palely against the blackened frame.

“I’m fixing it up to sell. I have a buyer who has an option, if I can get the renovation done before she loses interest or finds something better.”

Ryan paused, looking over his shoulder at her. Her pulse gave a little jump. Her hands were planted next to his on the board, and his face was only inches away.

“And then you’ll leave Suffolk again?” He looked at her as if he really wanted to know. As if it might matter to someone what she did.

Her mouth was dry. From the smoke, she assured herself. Not because Ryan Flanagan had any effect on her.

She moistened her lips. “I haven’t decided yet. Mandy is going to have a cochlear implant—at least I hope she is, if all the tests go well. I can’t plan beyond that right now.”

The implant could give Mandy a chance at a normal life. How could she think of anything else?

“At the hospital here?” His eyes lit with interest.

“That’d be Dr. Marsh, I guess.”

“You’ve heard of him.” She was faintly surprised. Franklin Marsh was well-known to parents of deaf children, but why would Ryan know of him?

“My sister-in-law, Gabe’s wife, trains animals to work with people who have disabilities. She introduced me to Dr. Marsh at a benefit. I understand he does good work.”

“He’s the best.” She wouldn’t trust her daughter’s hearing and her future to anyone who wasn’t. “If he decides Mandy will benefit from an implant, it will make all the difference in the world to us.”

And if he did accept Mandy for the procedure, she somehow had to come up with the over fifty thousand dollars the process would cost. The minimal insurance program she was able to afford would cover Mandy’s stay in the hospital, but it didn’t cover a cochlear implant.

As if he felt all the things she didn’t say, Ryan put his hand over hers where it rested on the board. “I hope it works out.”

“Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “I appreciate that. And really, I can finish up the door. I’m sure you have other things to do with your evening.”

“I’m free as a bird.” He pounded another nail in place. “And anyway, as far as I can see, it’s finished.”

He stood back, smiling at her. He was right. The door was secured.

He’d shaken off her protests and done exactly what he’d said he would. And he’d gotten more information from her than she’d confided in anyone in months.

She raised her eyebrows at him, dusting her hands off. “Do you always get your own way?”

His smile broadened into a grin. “If you remember my family, you ought to know that I grew up fighting a bunch of siblings to get what I wanted. I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“I remember that you used to charm the teachers into letting you get away with murder.”

Now why had she said that? The man would think she was flirting with him.

“Lies, spread by my brothers, no doubt.” His smile assumed an angelic aspect. “I was always a serious student.”

“Somehow I find that difficult to believe.” And she also found it difficult to believe that she was standing here smiling at him, after everything that had happened this day.

“Why is it no one will take me seriously?” He dropped the hammer into a duffel bag and picked up the flashlight.

“Maybe because you don’t take yourself seriously.”

“Ouch, that hurt. A woman who sees right through me. I’d better watch out.” He hefted the bag. “Anything else I can fix while I’m here?”

“Everything’s fine.” Well, it wasn’t, but he ought to know what she meant. “I guess we’d better go out the front door, since you’ve nailed up the back.”

He nodded, and then he unexpectedly clasped her hand in his. His face was very serious in the dim light. “I wish you and your daughter the best.”

“Thank you.”

Ryan’s words had been the kind of simple statement anybody might make. They shouldn’t make her throat go so tight.

She turned away quickly, feeling him behind her as she headed for the door to the living room. Ryan Flanagan had a way of slipping through her carefully prepared defenses as if they weren’t even there.

So it was a good thing she wouldn’t be seeing any more of him.

“Listen, Ryan, are you sure Laura McKay isn’t going to mind our breaking into her house this way?”

Ryan’s brother Gabe paused, leaning on the shovel he’d been using to scrape soot and crumbled plaster from the ground floor of Laura’s building. Max, the yellow lab who was Gabe’s seizure-alert dog, sniffed at a pile of rubble, tail waving.

“Why would she? We’re only trying to help.”

Ryan suspected Laura wouldn’t see it that way, given her strong streak of independence. But no matter how much she might insist she didn’t need help, she was wrong. By the time she got home from the hospital with Mandy, he hoped they’d have much of the fire clean-up done.

A handful of Flanagans had offered to come along today along with several other firefighters. His cousin Brendan had used his clout as pastor to round up some more volunteers from the congregation.

All told, probably twenty or thirty people hustled around Laura’s property, sweeping, mopping, carting away fire rubbish. Now if he could just persuade Laura to accept the help they offered, everything would be fine.

Well, he’d cross that bridge when he got to it. He clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Come on, put your back into it. They’ll be home from the hospital soon.”

Gabe shrugged and went back to shoveling.

Their mother looked up from the broom she was wielding. “I’m sure Laura will be happy to see us.” Siobhan Flanagan smiled. “And I’ll be glad to see her. I remember her from church school, years ago. Laura was always such a sweet, shy little thing.”

“She’s changed since then, Mom.”

“Well, of course people change. Being the single mother of a deaf child would make someone grow up in a hurry, I’d think. Poor child.”

He wasn’t sure whether her sympathy was for Laura or Mandy, but it didn’t really matter. Mom had enough love to go around for any number of people.

If it came to pitting Laura’s stubborn independence against his mother’s determination to help, he wouldn’t want to guess at a winner.

Even as he thought it, the front door swung open, letting in a shaft of May sunshine. Laura stood there, clasping Mandy protectively against her.

For a moment she didn’t move. She just stood, looking around the room as if unable to believe what she was seeing. Then she turned toward him with what looked like an accusation in her dark eyes.

She probably intended to come straight for him, but his mother got to her first. “Laura, it’s so good to see you.” She swept Laura into a quick hug. “I’m Siobhan Flanagan. You remember me, don’t you?”

“Mrs. Flanagan.” Laura took a step back. “Yes, of course I do.” She darted a glance toward Ryan. “You’re Ryan’s mother.”

It sounded as if she wanted to follow that up with, Why are you here?

“We’re helping with the clean-up.” His mother wasn’t deterred by any reserve on Laura’s part. She waved toward the workers. “You remember Gabe, my oldest boy.”

“Mom, I’m not a boy,” Gabe protested automatically. He lifted his hand toward Laura. “Hi, Laura.”

“And that’s Brendan, my nephew. He’s pastor of our church now, you know.”

Laura nodded in Brendan’s direction, not committing herself to any knowledge of his pastorship of Grace Church. “It’s very nice of you to want to help out, but really, I can take care of this myself.”

Ryan had warned his mother that Laura would respond that way, and he waited to see how she’d handle it.

She did it with a smile and a gentle touch on Mandy’s hair. The little girl gave her a shy smile in return, and Laura put her down.

“You wouldn’t turn us away when we’re having so much fun, now would you? That wouldn’t be kind.”

Laura opened her mouth and closed it again. Clearly she didn’t want to be accused of being unkind by turning away kindness from others. He tried to hide his expression.

“No, I—well, thank you.”

She frowned at him, and he smiled blandly back. Maybe he ought to take lessons from his mother in how to approach someone as prickly as Laura was.

Nolie approached her. “Hi, I’m Nolie Flanagan. Gabe’s wife.” She bent toward Mandy, her hands signing fluently. “You must be Mandy.”

Mandy nodded, giving her that shy smile.

“Would you like to go upstairs and help me make sandwiches for lunch?” She patted the rounded bulge of baby under her sky-blue top as she glanced at Laura. “Gabe is getting nervous about every little thing I do, but he agrees that making sandwiches won’t hurt me.”

“I don’t know if Mandy will go with you,” Laura began, and then stopped. Mandy was already putting her hand in Nolie’s. “Well, I guess she will. Thank you.”

She watched her daughter start up the steps with an expression that told Ryan clearly that she didn’t want her daughter out of her sight. That caution was natural enough, he supposed, after what they’d been through, but Nolie would take good care of the child, and she’d be away from the mess and dirt.

When they’d disappeared toward the apartment, Laura swung around and headed straight toward him. She stopped a scant two feet away and scowled. “This is your doing, isn’t it?” She kept her voice low, apparently not wanting everyone else to hear.

“Hey, I’m innocent.”

She raised level dark brows. “Am I supposed to believe it’s a total coincidence that my house is filled with Flanagans?”

“Some of them aren’t. Flanagans, I mean. There are a couple of firefighters here, and some people from the church that Brendan recruited.”

“Don’t you mean you recruited?”

“Not me. All I did was mention the fire to my mother. She did the rest.” He gave a mock shudder.

“Trust me on this one. My mother may be soft-spoken, but you don’t want to get between her and something she’s decided to do.”

“Do you really want me to believe you’re afraid of your mother?”

He grinned. “You bet.”

Well, not afraid of her, but concerned about her opinion. Maybe that was why he hadn’t told his mother yet about applying to the arson squad.

“I don’t believe you.” She shook her head. “And anyway, that’s not the point.”

“Right. The point is that you want to do everything all by yourself.”

He thought her lips twitched slightly. “Are you trying to make me sound like a two-year-old?”

“You said it, I didn’t.” Before she could respond, he raised both hands. “Let’s declare a truce, okay? We’re here. Is it really so hard to let us help you?”

“No. I’m just—“

“Super-independent. I figured that one out already. What I haven’t figured out yet is why.”

Her dark-brown eyes met his, and for an instant they held so much pain that it took his breath away. Then her usual shield dropped into place and she gave him a polite, meaningless smile.

“I guess all I can do is say thanks.”

She turned away. He stood watching as she picked up a box and began loading debris into it.

Laura had her game face back on now. But he’d seen behind it, and that glimpse into her shook him. A man would have to be crazy to get involved with someone who was carrying that load of grief.

Not that he was even thinking about doing such a thing.

Laura was still wondering what she was doing when she arrived at the Flanagan house for dinner a few evenings later. She was usually quite good at getting out of things she didn’t want to do. Unfortunately she’d found that Siobhan Flanagan was very difficult to keep saying no to.

Maybe it was because Siobhan had been her church-school teacher, back when she’d still had a child’s faith, thinking that every problem could be solved by prayer. She was swept with a sudden wave of longing to be back in that church-school room, sitting in the child-size chair and hearing Bible stories told in Siobhan’s soft, loving voice.

A person could never go back, although the Flanagans seemed to be doing a good job of keeping their lives just the way they’d been.

She held Mandy’s hand as they started up the walk to the welcoming brick house. Everything about the neighborhood—the mature trees, the old-fashioned flowerbeds brimming with tulips and irises, the comfortable old two-story homes—said that here was a place where people found safety and serenity.

She smiled at her daughter as they reached the steps that led to the wide front porch. Pansies crowded pots on either side of the stairs, and a cushion-piled porch swing creaked a little in the breeze.

“Mrs. Flanagan has pretty flowers, doesn’t she?”

Mandy nodded, her small face tense, and Laura’s throat clenched. She was taking her daughter into the sort of situation she usually avoided, just because she couldn’t say no to Siobhan.

“We don’t have to stay long, okay? We can go home right after supper if you want to.”

“Okay.”

She smiled, touching Mandy’s cheek. “Good talking, Mandy.” Mandy didn’t verbalize very often since her hearing had worsened, so it was an occasion for praise when she did.

She squeezed her daughter’s hand, and together they approached the door. It was flung open before she could knock. Three children crowded around them, making Mandy shrink against her.

“They’re here, they’re here!” The oldest, a girl who must be about six or so, caught Mandy’s hand and pulled her inside. “Grammy, they’re here.”

Flanagans. Obviously they were all three Flanagans, with the same reddish-gold hair and blue eyes. If only they weren’t quite so friendly—it was like being surrounded by a bunch of puppies, all trying to jump on her.

“Enough shouting.” Siobhan grabbed the smallest boy and held him close. “You sound like a bunch of hooligans. Welcome, Laura. Mandy. We’re glad you’re here.”

“Thank you for inviting us.” How soon would it be polite to leave?

“These two monsters are Mary Kate’s.” She touched the oldest girl and the boy who looked about Mandy’s age. “Shawna and Michael.” She squeezed the smaller boy. “And this is Seth’s little boy, Davy.”

The front door opened into a large, comfortable, slightly shabby living room. The adults all seemed to be gathered around the fireplace. All of them were looking at her.

Siobhan led her forward and began introducing them. Mandy stayed close behind her, clutching her hand tightly. Most of them she knew already, but she hadn’t met Brendan’s wife or Seth’s fiancée. She nodded, smiled, and decided that there were way too many Flanagans.

One was missing, though. She’d recognized the moment she entered the room that Ryan wasn’t here. On duty, maybe? Before she could be sure whether she felt relief or disappointment, he came striding in from what was probably the kitchen.

She absolutely would not feel pleasure at the sight of him. Still, when his smile lit his deep-blue eyes, it was hard not to, especially when he came directly to her.

“Laura, hi. Well, what do you think?” He waved toward his family. “If you can stand all these people talking at once, you might be able to get through a Sunday supper at the Flanagan house.”

“Stop teasing, Ryan.” Siobhan swatted at him affectionately. “You make Laura feel welcome, now. I’ve got to get back to the roast.”

“Can I do something—” she began, but Siobhan was already gone.

“This is your first time here,” Ryan said. “Relax and enjoy yourself. It’s Mary Kate’s family’s turn to help this week, anyway.”

“You do this every Sunday?”

“Terrifying, isn’t it?” His grin negated the words. “If the weather’s nice, we go out to Gabe and Nolie’s farm instead, where the kids can run. Mandy would like seeing the place. Lots of animals.”

Was that an invitation? She wasn’t sure, and maybe it was safer to ignore it.

“I thought maybe you were working tonight.” That suggested she’d been looking for him, and she wanted the words back.

“We all try to get off Sunday when we can. These get-togethers are important to Mom. Besides, Pastor Brendan would get after us if we missed church.” His eyebrows lifted. “I thought maybe we’d see you there this morning.”

Apparently the Flanagans didn’t intend to let her forget that she’d once belonged to their church. A little flicker of annoyance went through her. “I’m not sure Mandy would feel comfortable there.”

“Why not?” His eyes were fixed on hers, seeming to demand an answer.

“It’s difficult when she can’t understand what’s going on.” And why won’t you leave it alone?

“Nolie’s always in church school. I know she’d be glad to sign for Mandy.”

He was crowding her on the subject, and she frowned at him. “It’s hard for her to interact with hearing children.”

“Really?” He nodded toward the corner of the room.

“She seems to be doing fine at the moment.”

She’d thought Mandy was still at her side. Instead she was clear across the room, sitting in front of a tower of blocks with the other children.

She made an instinctive movement toward them. “I’ll just go and—”

Ryan stopped her with a touch on her arm. “Why don’t you let them play? They’re okay.”

Irritation scraped along her nerves. Ryan didn’t know anything about raising a hearing-impaired child. But she watched as Shawna handed Mandy a block, clapping when she put it on top of the tower. Mandy’s solemn little face broke into a smile.

Laura’s throat tightened. That was what she wanted for Mandy—to see her playing normally with other children instead of being trapped and isolated in her silent world.

“Laura, it’s grand to have you back in Suffolk.” Ryan’s father approached with an outstretched hand. She probably would have known Joe Flanagan anywhere—he still had that square, bulldog face and friendly smile, although only a few tinges of red showed in his now-white hair.

“Thank you. And thanks for all the help from your family with the fire clean-up.”

He shrugged. “Firefighters enjoy seeing things put back to rights after a fire. You know that all of us Flanagans are involved with the department now, don’t you?”

Ryan groaned. “Please, Dad. I’m sure Laura doesn’t want to hear about our old family traditions.”

His father’s face tightened, as if he were about to issue a reprimand.

“I have every reason to know about Seth and Terry and Ryan, since I met them on the job,” she said quickly.

Joe nodded. “I guess you did at that. Sorry I wasn’t there. I never thought I’d be stuck at a desk job in the department, but it makes me proud to know that those three are out there on my old team.”

She nodded, glancing at Ryan, and was struck by the expression that crossed his face at his father’s words. What was it? It was gone too quickly to say, but she was left with a sense of something uneasy behind Ryan’s smile.