better be careful. Because if Gabriel Flanagan looked at her that way too many times, she’d could find herself agreeing with just about anything he said.
Chapter Two
By the time supper ended, Gabe was beginning to think he’d never get rid of Nolie Lang. Every member of his family seemed determined to talk to her. He could only hope they were all telling her the same thing he had—that he didn’t need her help. The woman should leave convinced she’d have to find another guinea pig for her experiment.
Judging by the way Nolie’s gaze kept darting toward the door, she was ready to be free of the Flanagans, too, for the moment, at least. Well, he wanted her to be free of them permanently.
He’d steered clear while Mom had showed her the wall full of fire-department photos and citations above the mantel, not wanting to be the subject of his mother’s praises in front of this woman.
But now Ryan joined them, chatting away as if he and Nolie were old friends. Gabe hoped he was reinforcing the family line—Gabe doesn’t need your help. Gabe is fine. Gabe will be back on the job in no time.
Ryan seemed to be turning on an inordinate amount of the Flanagan charm. Now, why was his little brother going to so much trouble? It certainly wasn’t as if Nolie were his type. Ryan might be initially attracted by the long blond hair, but everything else about Nolie would turn him off.
Plain. That was all he could think. She looked as if she hadn’t made the faintest effort—just run in from the barn and tossed on a white shirt and navy blazer. Even his tomboy sister Terry would have done a better job for an important interview.
So what interested Ryan so much? He sauntered closer to find out.
“That’s my father and his brothers when they first joined the department.”
Ryan had obviously taken over the explanations, while his mother smiled and nodded. Nolie couldn’t know it, but the Flanagan kids favored either Mom or Dad in personality as well as looks. Mary Kate, Terry and Ryan were as ebullient as Dad, while he and Seth had his mother’s reserve.
Ryan’s eyes sparked with mischief as Gabe joined them. “And here’s the brand-new citation for our latest hero, Gabriel Flanagan.”
Nolie studied the plaque with every indication of interest. Gabe averted his eyes from it and glared at his brother.
“Give it a rest, Ryan.”
“Hey, I will when you stop gold-bricking and get back on the job. I don’t want to have to uphold the family traditions single-handedly.”
“You’ve got Dad, Seth and Terry to do that.”
He could only hope they were also keeping Ryan in line. The kid had a tendency to take more risks than he needed to at times.
“They’re not the current hero.” Ryan, of course, knew exactly what buttons to push.
“Knock it off.” That came out with enough of a snarl in his voice that even his baby brother knew he meant it.
With another engaging grin for Nolie, Ryan moved away.
“We are proud of you,” his mother said softly. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Sure, Mom.” He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. “I understand, but Nolie didn’t come to hear the whole Flanagan saga.”
“Actually it’s quite helpful in deciding what kind of dog will work best for you,” Nolie said. “I’m finding it all very interesting.”
She was probably picturing the publicity she’d get for her program with him as her prized exhibit. Well, he wasn’t going to join her dog-and-pony show, not if he could help it.
A clatter of dishes from the kitchen diverted his mother. She murmured an apology and scurried in that direction.
As soon as she’d gone, he squared off with Nolie. “I already told you. I don’t need a dog.”
Her level brows lifted. “I believe I heard you tell the chief that you’d cooperate.”
“What I told—” he began.
“Are you seeing all the family history?” This time the interruption came from a man new to the gathering, and he gritted his teeth before attempting introductions.
“Nolie Lang, this is my cousin, Brendan Flanagan. Come to scrounge some leftovers, no doubt.”
Brendan’s grin admitted the truth of that barb. “Only partly. I also wanted to meet Ms. Lang.”
“Nolie, please.” She extended her hand. “Are you another of the Flanagan firefighters?”
Brendan shook his head, probably used to explaining his story.
“I’m the one holdout—the only Flanagan who didn’t go into the family business. I’m the minister at Grace Church.”
Gabe couldn’t miss Nolie’s reaction to that. She snatched her hand back as if she’d touched hot metal, and her skin went pale under her tan.
Now what, exactly, was going on with the woman?
“Brendan keeps us in line,” Gabe said with deliberate casualness, watching her. “If all the Flanagans aren’t sitting in a row on Sunday morning, he wants to know why.”
“And I’m also the fire department chaplain, so they can’t get away from me at work, either,” Brendan added. “Which I guess means I didn’t completely reject the family business.”
He could tell by the way Brendan studied Nolie’s face that he’d noted her intense reaction, too.
“I see.” She gave a meaningless smile, and he sensed that only strong control kept her from bolting out the door. She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a card. “Here’s my address,” she said, handing it to Gabe. “I’d like to meet at the farm tomorrow, if that’s possible for you.”
His jaw clenched. “I don’t think I can make it.”
Their gazes clashed, and he saw a determination in hers that matched his own. “I think you’d better find a way.”
The implication was clear. He’d show up, or she’d sic the chief on him.
“Fine.” He ground out the word. “What time?”
“About one o’clock would be good for me.”
She waited long enough for his curt nod, and then turned toward the door. “Please thank your parents for me. I really have to leave.”
She didn’t wait for a response, just bolted toward the exit with barely concealed relief.
Gabe let the door close behind her before he looked at his cousin, eyebrows lifting.
“Okay, let me in on the secret. Exactly what did you do to the woman to send her running?”
Brendan shrugged, his eyes troubled. “I don’t know. She seems to have a problem with ministers, doesn’t she?”
“Obviously. You don’t usually send strange women screaming for the exit.”
That didn’t bring the smile he expected from Brendan. “I’d like to talk with her further. Maybe when you’re working with her, you can mention that I’d enjoy getting to know her better.”
“I don’t intend to be working with her, remember?”
“So I’ve heard.” Brendan’s gaze probed beneath the surface. “You want to talk about that?”
No. He didn’t. He didn’t want to talk about any of it. “Thanks anyway, Brendan. Save the pastoral advice for somebody who needs it. I’m fine.”
Fine. He certainly didn’t want to talk to his cousin about the fact that he seemed to be going through the motions spiritually these days. Or