Gabe shrugged and went back to shoveling.
Their mother looked up from the broom she was wielding. “I’m sure Laura will be happy to see us.” Siobhan Flanagan smiled. “And I’ll be glad to see her. I remember her from church school, years ago. Laura was always such a sweet, shy little thing.”
“She’s changed since then, Mom.”
“Well, of course people change. Being the single mother of a deaf child would make someone grow up in a hurry, I’d think. Poor child.”
He wasn’t sure whether her sympathy was for Laura or Mandy, but it didn’t really matter. Mom had enough love to go around for any number of people.
If it came to pitting Laura’s stubborn independence against his mother’s determination to help, he wouldn’t want to guess at a winner.
Even as he thought it, the front door swung open, letting in a shaft of May sunshine. Laura stood there, clasping Mandy protectively against her.
For a moment she didn’t move. She just stood, looking around the room as if unable to believe what she was seeing. Then she turned toward him with what looked like an accusation in her dark eyes.
She probably intended to come straight for him, but his mother got to her first. “Laura, it’s so good to see you.” She swept Laura into a quick hug. “I’m Siobhan Flanagan. You remember me, don’t you?”
“Mrs. Flanagan.” Laura took a step back. “Yes, of course I do.” She darted a glance toward Ryan. “You’re Ryan’s mother.”
It sounded as if she wanted to follow that up with, Why are you here?
“We’re helping with the clean-up.” His mother wasn’t deterred by any reserve on Laura’s part. She waved toward the workers. “You remember Gabe, my oldest boy.”
“Mom, I’m not a boy,” Gabe protested automatically. He lifted his hand toward Laura. “Hi, Laura.”
“And that’s Brendan, my nephew. He’s pastor of our church now, you know.”
Laura nodded in Brendan’s direction, not committing herself to any knowledge of his pastorship of Grace Church. “It’s very nice of you to want to help out, but really, I can take care of this myself.”
Ryan had warned his mother that Laura would respond that way, and he waited to see how she’d handle it.
She did it with a smile and a gentle touch on Mandy’s hair. The little girl gave her a shy smile in return, and Laura put her down.
“You wouldn’t turn us away when we’re having so much fun, now would you? That wouldn’t be kind.”
Laura opened her mouth and closed it again. Clearly she didn’t want to be accused of being unkind by turning away kindness from others. He tried to hide his expression.
“No, I—well, thank you.”
She frowned at him, and he smiled blandly back. Maybe he ought to take lessons from his mother in how to approach someone as prickly as Laura was.
Nolie approached her. “Hi, I’m Nolie Flanagan. Gabe’s wife.” She bent toward Mandy, her hands signing fluently. “You must be Mandy.”
Mandy nodded, giving her that shy smile.
“Would you like to go upstairs and help me make sandwiches for lunch?” She patted the rounded bulge of baby under her sky-blue top as she glanced at Laura. “Gabe is getting nervous about every little thing I do, but he agrees that making sandwiches won’t hurt me.”
“I don’t know if Mandy will go with you,” Laura began, and then stopped. Mandy was already putting her hand in Nolie’s. “Well, I guess she will. Thank you.”
She watched her daughter start up the steps with an expression that told Ryan clearly that she didn’t want her daughter out of her sight. That caution was natural enough, he supposed, after what they’d been through, but Nolie would take good care of the child, and she’d be away from the mess and dirt.
When they’d disappeared toward the apartment, Laura swung around and headed straight toward him. She stopped a scant two feet away and scowled. “This is your doing, isn’t it?” She kept her voice low, apparently not wanting everyone else to hear.
“Hey, I’m innocent.”
She raised level dark brows. “Am I supposed to believe it’s a total coincidence that my house is filled with Flanagans?”
“Some of them aren’t. Flanagans, I mean. There are a couple of firefighters here, and some people from the church that Brendan recruited.”
“Don’t you mean you recruited?”
“Not me. All I did was mention the fire to my mother. She did the rest.” He gave a mock shudder.
“Trust me on this one. My mother may be soft-spoken, but you don’t want to get between her and something she’s decided to do.”
“Do you really want me to believe you’re afraid of your mother?”
He grinned. “You bet.”
Well, not afraid of her, but concerned about her opinion. Maybe that was why he hadn’t told his mother yet about applying to the arson squad.
“I don’t believe you.” She shook her head. “And anyway, that’s not the point.”
“Right. The point is that you want to do everything all by yourself.”
He thought her lips twitched slightly. “Are you trying to make me sound like a two-year-old?”
“You said it, I didn’t.” Before she could respond, he raised both hands. “Let’s declare a truce, okay? We’re here. Is it really so hard to let us help you?”
“No. I’m just—“
“Super-independent. I figured that one out already. What I haven’t figured out yet is why.”
Her dark-brown eyes met his, and for an instant they held so much pain that it took his breath away. Then her usual shield dropped into place and she gave him a polite, meaningless smile.
“I guess all I can do is say thanks.”
She turned away. He stood watching as she picked up a box and began loading debris into it.
Laura had her game face back on now. But he’d seen behind it, and that glimpse into her shook him. A man would have to be crazy to get involved with someone who was carrying that load of grief.
Not that he was even thinking about doing such a thing.
Laura was still wondering what she was doing when she arrived at the Flanagan house for dinner a few evenings later. She was usually quite good at getting out of things she didn’t want to do. Unfortunately she’d found that Siobhan Flanagan was very difficult to keep saying no to.
Maybe it was because Siobhan had been her church-school teacher, back when she’d still had a child’s faith, thinking that every problem could be solved by prayer. She was swept with a sudden wave of longing to be back in that church-school room, sitting in the child-size chair and hearing Bible stories told in Siobhan’s soft, loving voice.
A person could never go back, although the Flanagans seemed to be doing a good job of keeping their lives just the way they’d been.
She held Mandy’s hand as they started up the walk to the welcoming brick house. Everything about the neighborhood—the mature trees, the old-fashioned flowerbeds brimming with tulips and irises, the comfortable old two-story homes—said that here was a place where people found safety and serenity.
She smiled at her daughter as they reached the steps that led to the wide front porch. Pansies