“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.”
“You can’t wait a couple of weeks?”
“Impossible. I have to get this done.” She could hear her voice veering out of control, and she couldn’t seem to help it. “If I’m not finished by the time my prospective buyer comes, she’ll go elsewhere. And Mandy’s surgery—”
She stopped, fighting for control. She wasn’t going to spill all her troubles to Ryan, no matter how sympathetic he was.
And then he touched her shoulder gently, and all her resolve disappeared. She choked on a sob, and he pulled her against him.
“Don’t.” She tried ineffectually to move away.
“You’ll get paint on your shirt.”
“It’ll clean.” His arms were strong around her, demanding nothing, just offering support. He stroked her back in gentle circles, reminding her of the way she comforted Mandy. “Just relax. You don’t have to be a superhero all the time.”
She wanted to protest that she did, but it was so comforting to stand in his embrace, feeling the tension easing out of her at his touch. His lips brushed her temple.
That touch brought her to her senses. She sucked in a breath and drew back, still in the circle of his arms. “Sorry. I don’t usually do that.”
“You’re allowed.” His gaze probed. “Let me get this straight. You need the money from the sale of the property to pay for Mandy’s surgery.”
She nodded, pulling herself free and turning away from that intent gaze. “The insurance we have doesn’t cover a cochlear implant.”
“If you waited on the surgery until you’re in better shape financially—”
“No.” Again her tone veered upward, and she fought to control it. “We’re not going to wait. The longer Mandy goes without the implant, the harder it will be. She starts school in September. I have to give her every chance at a hearing life. I have to.”
“Okay.” He probably hoped that calm tone of his would soothe her. “Seems like the first step is to get a plasterer in here, ASAP.”
She was glad he’d given her an excuse to be annoyed with him. “I never thought of that.”
He grinned. “Sarcasm will get you nowhere, lady. It just so happens one of my high-school buddies recently took over his father’s plastering business. I’ll call him.”
“He’ll probably be booked solid. They all are.” It had taken her weeks to find someone, and Ryan proposed to do it with a single call.
“Trust me, he’ll fit you in. I know too much about him for him to say no to me.”
Hope flickered in spite of her doubts. “That would be wonderful.”
“Looks like it’s a good thing I stopped by today, although I didn’t have plasterers in mind.”
“Why did you come, then?”
“I thought you’d want to know.” His smile broadened. “I got the call. I’ve been assigned to the arson squad on a probationary basis.”
“Ryan, congratulations. That’s wonderful.”
“Yeah,