Blood Kin Read Free Page B

back door and get rid of these muddy boots before I track up my clean floors.”
    â€œThank you,” Bailey managed before Emma chattered on.
    â€œIf you want to freshen up before you sit down to the table, there’s a private bath off your room. Upstairs. The Robin’s Nest. I like to name all my rooms. Can’t miss it. Down the hall. Last room on the right.”
    Emma was still talking when Bailey pushed open the front door and stepped into the foyer. The interior of the house was cool, bright, and spotless, with gleaming antique furniture, starched white curtains, and a faint scent of cinnamon and nutmeg. She stood still and listened, soaking in the peaceful atmosphere. For a moment there was no sound but the faint tick of a mantel clock.
    â€œOuch! Son of a . . .” A male voice broke the silence. “Damn it to hell!”
    Bailey looked into the living room. Beyond, in theconnecting archway, a lean figure stood on the fourth step of a ladder.
    â€œDon’t laugh,” he said. “It hurts.” He shook one hand in the air. “Fetch me that bag of finishing nails, will you? On the floor there, beside the drill.”The voice was deep, clear, and slightly tinged with the island flavor.
    Amused, Bailey set down her overnight case and crossed the living room. She couldn’t tell whether the carpenter was young or old, but from the way his long legs filled the worn blue jeans and his shoulders stretched against the green plaid shirt, she assumed he hadn’t reached his dotage. The workman’s hair, clean, and dark brown with a slight curl, was snugged back into a short ponytail and secured with a rough leather tie.
    â€œDo you mind passing me the nails?” he asked impatiently. “Before I bleed to death?”
    â€œNot at all.” Bailey picked up the small paper bag of nails and handed them to him.
    â€œI just have the . . .” He glanced down. Dark brows, straight nose, nice chin, in the tanned face of an outdoorsman. For a split second, surprise registered in his dark eyes, and then white, even teeth flashed, the charm in that boyish grin making his face intriguing. “Ouch again. You must be Miss Emma’s guest, the one with the name like the drink.” He took the nails, removed three, and handed the bag back before tucking two between his lips.
    Turning back to his project, he hammered two nails expertly into the section of trim, and then descended the ladder. Blood stained his left index finger and the palm and wrist of his left hand. “Pardon me, Ms. Bailey,” he said, cupping the offending digit. “But if I drip blood on Miss Emma’s Aubusson carpet, there’ll be hell to pay.”
    â€œDaniel Catlin!” Emma appeared at the far end of the dining room. “What kind of talk is that? I’ll thank you to keep a decent tongue in your head in front of my guests.”
    â€œYes, ma’am.” Daniel glanced back at Bailey. “I think I’ve been put in my place. Excuse me.”
    She chuckled. “It’s all right. I hear worse in my classroom every day.”
    â€œIs that blood?” Emma demanded. She snatched off her apron and wrapped it around Daniel’s hand. “How did you do that? Never mind. Come into the kitchen. It needs peroxide and a Band-Aid. Let me see. Stop your fussing. You’d think you’d cut the thing off.” She looked at Bailey. “Please come and have your dinner. This won’t take a minute.”
    â€œI’d like to take my bag upstairs first,” Bailey said. “And I really should call my . . . my friend—to let him know I’ve arrived safely. I promised him I would.”
    â€œHave you got a cell?” Emma asked. “You do? Well, good luck, girl. Our reception on Tawes is terrible. No towers nearby.”
    â€œOh,” Bailey said. “Is there a house phone I could—”
    â€œSorry. That’s out too. Happens all