Scared to Death. Debby Giusti

in a fortifying breath, she reached for the knob and pulled. Stairs climbed upward directly outside her room. She grabbed the banister for support and examined the hallway around her.

      Photos hung on the wall. Nolan arm in arm with his daughter. A second picture of Heather when she was a little girl. A third of Tina and Nolan sitting side by side at a kitchen table.

      Older, more mature, but Tina still flaunted the flirtatious smile and laughing eyes.

      A life cut short. Why? Kate’s mind swirled. So senseless.

      She let go of the stair railing, reached for the wall and misjudged the distance.

      Her right knee buckled. She tumbled forward.

      From out of nowhere, arms grabbed her. Pulled her upright.

      Kate twisted and stared into Nolan’s dark eyes.

      He raised an eyebrow. “You should have called for help.”

      “I didn’t expect another crash. Seems you’ve saved me a second time.”

      The corner of his mouth twitched. “You prone to trouble?”

      “Not usually.” She found her footing, straightened her shoulders and tried to gracefully extract herself from his hold. “I’m fine.”

      “Really? Looks to me like you’re ready to keel over.”

      Exactly how she felt. Her blood pressure must be ninety over fifty, the way her head was swimming.

      His hands continued to steady her. “Lean against me for support.”

      Embarrassed to appear so needy, Kate put weight on her injured leg, then gasped as a hot slice of pain shot through her knee.

      Swallow your pride, Kate.

      If Nolan wanted to help, why not let him? The world could use a few more heroes.

      His arm slid around her waist. “Easy does it.”

      Slowly, he guided her through the doorway and into the welcoming interior of the great room. A blazing fire crackled a greeting from a massive stone fireplace on the far wall.

      Nolan lowered her into a leather chair, warm from someone’s previous body heat. A half-full cup of coffee sat on the side table. Nolan’s chair.

      “Listen, I don’t want to take your—”

      “Would you please sit down?” His tone was firm. Then he smiled. “You always so obstinate?”

      “My grandfather called me stubborn.”

      “I’d have to agree with him.”

      Kate wiggled back into the deep cushions as Nolan raised her left leg to the ottoman and covered it with a chenille throw he grabbed off the couch. He tucked the covering around her bare foot before he stood and surveyed his patient.

      A sense of gratitude spread over Kate. “I can’t thank you enough. You saved my life last night. Then you took me in. Now you’re waiting on me hand and foot.” She glanced down at her injured leg. “Literally. I’m not used to such treatment.”

      “Chalk it up to Southern hospitality. Which reminds me, how do you take your coffee?”

      “A little sweetener.”

      “Sugar okay?”

      “Of course.” She wove her fingers into the folds of the throw. “I really do appreciate your generosity.”

      “Not a problem. Besides, you knew Tina.” He shook his head and swallowed. “Still can’t believe it. Tina was a good employee and a friend to Heather.” He sighed. “My daughter and I are both having a hard time.”

      “Death’s tough on everyone.”

      Nolan’s eyes softened. “Were you and Tina old friends?”

      “Since grammar school. The Espinosas lived next door.”

      “Guess you heard, Tina’s mom passed away last December. No other living relatives. Her brother died three years ago.”

      “I knew about Eddie.” Kate lowered her gaze, hoping her eyes didn’t reflect the pain written on her heart.

      “Funny, Tina never mentioned having a friend in Atlanta.”

      Kate pulled in a steadying breath. “We’d been out of touch for a few years.”

      “Bad timing, huh?”

      She jerked her head up. “What?”

      “Arriving in town the day she died. Must be tearing you apart.”

      How did she feel? Regret? Sorrow? Three years and Kate couldn’t get past the rejection.

      “So what brought you to Mercy?” Nolan asked.

      “Tina had something that belonged to me. Did she ever mention a gold cross?”

      “Not that I recall. Then again, she kept personal matters to herself. Lived in the apartment over the garage.” His eyes flicked over Kate’s injured leg. “Stairs are steep. Don’t suggest you go poking around up there.”

      “Of course not.” Had Tina told Nolan about what she’d seen in the woods? She’d said she didn’t trust anyone. Did that include her boss?

      “I’ll talk to Heather. Maybe she’s seen the cross. If we find it, we’ll be sure to give it back to you.” Nolan pointed toward the kitchen door. “I’ll get that coffee now.”

      Kate watched him leave. On the surface, he seemed like a nice enough guy, and he’d saved her life, for which she’d be eternally grateful. But she needed to be careful. People weren’t always who they seemed.

      She shook her head. Lighten up, would you?

      Better to focus on the positive.

      Kate gazed around the room. Framed photos of Heather sat on the mantel. Tough raising a child alone.

      Even harder for a girl who needed a mother’s love. Kate should know. God had robbed her of that luxury, too.

      Maybe that was why Tina’s mom had played such an important roll in Kate’s life.

      Until the fire had changed their relationship forever.

      Kate shook her head, blocking the memory from returning full force. Not today. She had too much to deal with as it was. No need to dredge up the past.

      She glanced at the windows to her right. Thick burgundy drapes, held back with tassels, let in a glimpse of the frozen world outside.

      In front of her a leather-bound Bible lay open on the coffee table as if Nolan had stopped midverse to tend to her needs.

      A door creaked. Kate turned at the sound. Nolan entered the room, along with the mouthwatering smell of sausage and eggs. He set the tray on the coffee table. “I kept breakfast warm for you. Hungry?”

      “A bit. Thank you.”

      She accepted the plate he offered. A wedge of melon, two sausage patties, scrambled eggs, biscuits. Not her usual fare and far more appealing than a dry breakfast bar. “You must be a miracle maker. Isn’t the power out?”

      “I’ve got a gas stove. Comes in handy in this type of weather. And a small generator that works the water pump. I keep a stove-top coffeemaker for these occasions, as well.” He placed a glass of orange juice and mug of coffee on the side table.

      The rich aroma made her stomach churn, reminding her she hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours.

      He shuffled his feet and glanced at the door he’d just walked through. “Holler if you need anything. I’ll be in the kitchen cleaning up.”

      Kate reached for the silverware as he left the room and shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

      “Mmm.”