Restless Hearts Read Free Page B

screen door and stepped into the hallway, glancing around. Come to think of it, he’d have to start calling this the Flanagan place. Or Flanagan clinic, maybe. Rumor had it she was starting a midwife practice here.
    Whatever she was doing, Ms. Flanagan really shouldn’t leave her door standing open that way. Then he noticed that the latch had come loose when he pulled on the screen door, probably one of hundreds of little things to be fixed.
    â€œMs. Flanagan?”
    The two large rooms on either side of the central hallway were empty, except for a few odds and ends of furniture left by the last inhabitants. He could see what attracted the woman to the house—under the dust and neglect were beautiful hardwood floors, and the roomswere graciously proportioned, with bay windows looking out toward the street.
    â€œHello, is anyone here?”
    A muffled call answered him from somewhere upstairs. Taking that for an invitation, he started up the staircase, running his hand along the curving banister. An oval stained-glass window on the landing sent a pattern of color onto the faded linoleum someone had been foolish enough to put over those beautiful stairs.
    Sunlight poured through the tall window at one end of the center of the second floor landing. He paused, blinking at the sight of a rickety stepladder under what had to be the opening to the attic. A pair of sneakered feet balanced on the very top. Nothing else was visible of Fiona but a pair of trim legs in dust-streaked jeans.
    The stepladder wobbled dangerously, and he grabbed it, steadying it with both hands. “What on earth are you doing up there? Trying to break a leg?”
    As soon as the words were out, he realized that was more or less what he’d said that first night when he’d spotted her. Now, at least, she owned the house, but that was no excuse for endangering herself.
    Fiona poked her head down from the dark rectangle of the attic opening, looking disheveled and annoyed. “What are you doing here?”
    â€œAt the moment, I’m keeping this ladder from collapsing under you.”
    â€œIt’s perfectly fine.” Her weight shifted, and the ladder swayed.
    He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to let go?”
    Her lips clamped together. “No.” She seemed to force the word out. Then, hands braced on the edge of the opening, she started lowering herself.
    He caught her elbows and lifted her the rest of the way to the floor. The stepladder, relieved, collapsed in a heap on the dusty floorboards.
    For a moment Fiona looked as if she’d like to kick the recalcitrant ladder, but then she managed a rueful smile. “Much as I hate to admit it, it looks as if you’re right.”
    â€œI’ll find something sturdy to stand on and close that for you. No problem.”
    â€œI’d say I don’t need help, but that would just convince you I’m totally irrational.” The smile warmed a bit, and her eyebrows lifted. “Did you come for something in particular?”
    â€œJust being neighborly,” he said mildly. He glanced around, spotting a solid-looking chair in the nearest room, and hauled it over. Fiona wouldn’t be able to reach the ceiling from it, but he could.
    He climbed onto the chair, reached up and eased the hatch back into place. It set off a puff of dust as it settled into its groove. He stepped back to the floor.
    Fiona, apparently aware of how dirty she was, attempted to transfer the dust from her hands to her jeans, not looking at him. “Thank you.”
    â€œAny time.”
    That fierce independence of hers amused him, but it also made him wonder what was behind it. If she couldn’taccept a little nosy neighborliness, she’d never fit in here. He’d had to get used to that again when he came back.
    She straightened. “I’m glad this isn’t an official call. As you can see, I’m rather busy just now.”
    â€œLooking over your