In A Heartbeat by Donna MacMeans Read Free Book Online Page A

wrapped around her upper arm, half-lifting, half-supporting her labored progress.
    “I swear,” she said, trying to dismiss the comfort of his support. “If you try to sweep me into your arms again, I’ll blacken your eyes.”
    “I believe you.” He chuckled, negotiating her smoothly to the upstairs landing. “I’ve seen how much damage you can do.”
    Her temper threatened but he held his hands up in mock submission.
    “Look,” Angie said. “I need to change out of this sweater. Thanks for your help and everything but I can handle it from—”
    “Won’t you need to come back down those stairs?” he asked.
    “Yes, eventually, but I’m sure I—”
    “I’ll wait.” He leaned against the newel post and crossed his arms. “Take your time.”
    She wanted to protest but one look at his stubborn stance and she knew how pointless that exercise would be.
    “Maybe you could wait in the kitchen?” she asked hopefully. “I’d feel nervous undressing with you so close.”
    He considered her reasonable request. “You’ll call when you’re ready to tackle the stairs again?”
    She nodded, figuring he’d only leave her alone if she agreed. “The kitchen is downstairs in the back. Follow the beeps.” He looked confused. “The answering machine,” she explained. “It’s in the kitchen. Help yourself to some coffee.”
    Turning to negotiate the hallway, she listened to his footfalls down the steps and around to the kitchen. Oreo’s tail, banging on walls along the way, marked his progress.
    Angie changed then discovered that going down the stairs was much easier than going up, especially without Oreo weaving through her legs. Proud that she’d managed without his assistance, she followed the scent of fresh-brewed coffee to the kitchen. Hank sat at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper, one hand wrapped around a steaming Classic Limo mug. Oreo lay sprawled at his feet, as if tall, muscular men at her kitchen table were an everyday occurrence. The thought brought an unexpected ache deep inside.
    She leaned against the doorway. “As you can see, I’m capable of managing on my own, so you don’t have to wait any further on my account.”
    He frowned. “I thought you were going to call when you were ready to come down those stairs?”
    “Hank, really I appreciate—” The land-line telephone rang, interrupting her plea. She sighed, knowing instinctively who was calling, and would continue to call, if she didn’t answer. Her mother had never embraced cell phones. “Excuse me,” she mumbled.
    She crossed the room to the telephone, glancing at the digital display on its base. Eight messages. You’d think the woman had nothing better to do.
    “Hi, Mom. I just got in.” She paused, watching Hank leave the table.
    “Yes, I’m fine. Oreo and I were out for a walk.” She watched him cross the hall to the dining room where he studied the colorful Tree of Life quilt hanging above the dry sink.
    “Over to the reservoir. The woods are beautiful; the leaves are starting to peak.” She answered her mother’s questions without thought, all her attention focused on the man who picked up a paperback romance she’d left on the dining room table. One dark brow lifted in question. Well, what did he expect? Accounting texts? She turned her back to him.
    “I know you called, Mom. I can see the messages, but I just got in. Honest.”
    She listened to questions so familiar she could answer them in her sleep. “Yes, I’m taking my pills… No, I’m not pushing myself too hard… Yes, I feel fine.” Before her mother could start up again, she interrupted, “Listen, Mom, can I call you back? There’s something I have to take care of. Yes, I promise I’ll call you right back… Okay, Mom. Love you too.”
    She hung up the phone, grateful that the action silenced the irritating electronic beep, and looked for Hank. She found him in the tiny living room in the front of the house. He sat on the couch, one foot