“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.
D
espite her
qualms, Laura decided that the evening had gone pretty well. They’d moved past
dessert and coffee, and she sat next to Nolie, Gabe’s wife, on the sofa. The
other woman had the serene, absorbed face some women wore during pregnancy, as
if they listened to something inside themselves.
“Do you know yet if the baby’s a boy or girl? Or aren’t you
telling?”
She’d been eager to find out when she was pregnant. The tests
had told her she was going to have a daughter. They hadn’t been able to predict
that Mandy would be born with a serious hearing problem.
“It’s a girl.” Nolie’s face curved in a satisfied smile. “I
thought maybe Gabe would want a boy first, but he says after growing up with
his brothers and cousin, he’s delighted to have a baby girl.”
“That’s lovely.” Unexpected tears stung her eyes, and she
blinked them away. “My husband—”
She stopped. Jason had been disappointed their child had been a
girl, and doubly disappointed that she hadn’t been perfect, but she shouldn’t
say that.
“I’m sorry.” Nolie clasped her hand in sudden empathy, seeming
to understand what she didn’t say. “But you shouldn’t worry too much about her.
I work with children who have disabilities, so I see the parents’ concerns all
the time. Mandy’s such a bright, loved child. Believe me, she’ll do fine.”
“I want her to have the best. I know she can live a full life
without hearing, but if she qualifies for the cochlear implant—”
A cry interrupted her, and she swung around, heartbeat
accelerating. Mandy—
Michael was trying to pull a toy train from her hand. He
wrenched it free, and Mandy wailed.
She was across the room in an instant, but Siobhan got there
first, pulling her grandson away.
“Michael Joseph Driscoll, I’m disappointed in you. Mandy is our
guest. Say you’re sorry.”
“He just wanted to show her how it works, Grammy,” Shawna said.
“Honest.”
Laura wrapped her arms around Mandy, feeling her child’s hot
tears against her face. Her heart hurt. Mandy didn’t understand. How could she?
“Sorry,” Michael mumbled.
Everyone was looking at them. All she wanted to do was get out.
“That’s fine, Michael. I know you didn’t mean it.” She struggled
to smile at the child. After all, he was just behaving like a normal, hearing
five-year-old.
She stood, holding Mandy in her arms, arranging a smile on her
face for Siobhan. “Mandy’s getting tired. I think it’s time we headed for home.
Thank you so much for dinner.”
Siobhan was wise enough not to argue, but Laura could read the
regret in her eyes. She gave Laura a quick hug and stroked Mandy’s curls. “It
was lovely to have you here. Come again soon.”
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 strong 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?”