The Stranger Next Door. Debra Webb

telephone company had arrived and begun his work. For the next half hour or so the man went through the steps of running a line to the house and doing the necessary installation on the inside. Ten minutes after he left, Tanner did the same. Deacon walked back to his house and got into his truck. He backed out onto the road and drove the short distance to his neighbor’s home.

      He parked only a few yards from the porch steps. By the time he reached those steps she had already peeked through the curtain to identify her newest visitor. He pretended not to notice, walked to the door and knocked.

      The sound of the locks disengaging and then the creak of the door echoed before her face appeared. “Yes?”

      She recognized him; he saw it in her green eyes. Not to mention he doubted she would have opened the door if she hadn’t.

      “I’m your neighbor,” he said, choosing to go that route rather than bring up what happened in the parking lot. “Deacon Ross.”

      She nodded. “Thank you for doing what you did today. I’m reasonably certain no one else would have.”

      “You don’t need to thank me, Miss Winters. I did what needed to be done.”

      “I’m grateful.” She glanced beyond him, then managed an uncertain smile. “I put your number on the wall by the phone. I hope I won’t have to call you, but I’ll rest easier knowing there’s someone I can.” She shrugged. “I grew up here but I don’t have any friends or...or family, none that still own me, anyway.”

      “I understand.”

      “I’m sorry.” She backed up a couple of steps, opened the door wider. “I guess my manners are rusty. Would you like to come in?”

      He had hoped she would make the offer. “Sure.”

      He stepped inside and she closed the door, though it was obvious she wasn’t entirely comfortable doing so.

      “If you prefer to leave the door open, feel free.”

      She looked up, blushed, her cheeks nearly matching her fiery red hair. “Am I that obvious?”

      He smiled, forced a load of kindness he in no way felt into the expression. “Afraid so.”

      “I’ll work on my presentation.”

      “I couldn’t help noticing as I drove up, there’s a couple of places on the roof that need some attention. You’ll probably want to consider getting someone to do some caulking and painting around the windows and doors before winter, too. I’ve been doing a lot of that next door.”

      She nodded, her expression more worried than uncertain. “I can probably take care of those things myself.”

      “Maybe, but I can help if you’d like. I’m no expert but I’m reasonably handy.”

      She bit her lower lip for a second before she responded to his announcement. “I’m afraid this house has gone downhill since I saw it last. My brother—Levi—said he kept an eye on things but I’m not sure how much he would know about home maintenance. And, to be honest, my grandmother always took care of things. She was a firecracker. I might have learned a lot more from her if I hadn’t gone away.” She stared at the floor a moment before meeting his gaze once more. “But I learn quickly. I can probably do most of it myself with some amount of instruction.”

      He nodded to the paint can and brush next to the front door. “Looks like you already have a start on things.”

      She tried to smile but didn’t manage the feat. “Yeah. Some things can’t wait.”

      She had painted over the unpleasant reminder of what she was labeled by some, but the vicious word still showed through her efforts.

      “Is there anything I can help you with before I go?” He didn’t want to overstay his welcome or push too far today. Slow, steady progress was the best plan.

      She moistened the lip she had been chewing. “Well, I did notice that the stove won’t turn on.” She hitched a thumb behind her. “I was going to heat some water for coffee.”

      “I can have a look.”

      “That would be great. Thank you.”

      She led the way into the kitchen, not that he needed her to show him where it was. He had been through every inch of this house at least three times. She had a number of surprises waiting for her.

      In the kitchen she gestured to the stove.

      He turned a knob for a top burner, then the oven. Pretended to ponder the possibilities, then he said, “I should check your electrical panel.”

      She frowned. “The fuse box?”

      He nodded. “If it was never upgraded to a breaker box then that would be it.”

      She shrugged. “I have no idea. My grandmother called it a fuse box.”

      “Let’s have a look.”

      She guided him to what had once been a back porch but was later converted to a laundry room. A new, smaller back porch had been added. She gestured to the wall next to the door they had exited. “Right there.”

      The electrical panel in the house had been upgraded. Again, he took some time to look over the situation, then flipped a breaker—the one he had flipped to the off position a week ago. While he was at it, he took care of the one for the water heater, as well. That one, he supposed, had been turned off by whoever closed up the house after the grandmother passed away.

      “I turned on the water heater, too.” He tapped the breaker he meant. “If for some reason it doesn’t work, flip it back to the off position and let me know. Let’s see if that did the trick for the stove.”

      Back in the kitchen, he turned the knob that controlled the burner beneath the kettle and the light next to it flared red.

      She smiled. “Thank you. I would not have made it through the morning tomorrow without coffee.”

      “If you need anything else, just let me know.” He turned and strode back toward the front door. She followed. At the door he looked back to her. “Call if you hear or see anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. I’m a minute away.”

      “Thank you again.” She frowned. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but why are you doing this?”

      He searched her eyes, wondered what she would say if he told her the truth.

      “I don’t know what happened to you, but you seem like a person who needs a break.”

      He left before she could say more. No need to risk allowing her to see the truth in his eyes.

      She watched from the door as he backed up and turned around. When he stopped at the road to see that it was clear, he glanced in his rearview mirror to find her still watching.

      The lady was lonely and afraid. Good.

      That was exactly the way he wanted her.