In Safe Hands (Search and Rescue #4)(51)
“What’s wrong?”
She grabbed the box and returned to her spot on the floor. “I have to actually look at the freaky things.”
He laughed and lowered the top of the stove. “I have more bad news, too.”
She made a face. “Hit me.”
“The problem doesn’t seem to be the igniter, so it’s most likely the gas line. Since that’s beyond my handyman skills, we’ll need to call in a professional.”
While she was still processing that information, Chris’s cell phone rang. After glancing at the screen, he answered. “Hey, Rob. What’s up?”
Whatever the sheriff’s answer was, it made Chris glance at his watch, flinch, and then hurry to replace the grills on top of the stove. “Sorry about that, sir. I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“Leave those,” Daisy whispered. “I’ll get them if you need to go.”
With a shake of his head, he replaced the rest of the grills before moving to the door. “I’ll be home in four minutes. I’m leaving Daisy’s now.”
Climbing to her feet again with more determination than grace, she followed him to the entrance so she could secure the door after he left.
“No new trouble,” Chris said. “Well, except with her stove.”
From the half of the conversation Daisy could hear, it sounded as if Chris was late meeting the sheriff, so she was surprised that he didn’t leave, but stood by the door instead.
“Don’t worry about that,” he told the sheriff with a laugh. “I know my limitations, especially when it comes to things that could explode. I’ll give the repair guy from Connor Springs a call and have him come out and take a look.”
After another short pause, Chris started opening the interior door locks. “See you in a few. Sorry again.” He ended the call. “I forgot to bring in my old portable radio—the one that doesn’t hold a charge—last night. Rob said he’d swing by my house on his way in to work this morning to grab it. I lost track of time, so he’s standing on my porch, wondering where I am.”
“Sorry for delaying you,” Daisy said. “And thanks for looking at the stove.”
“Not your fault I blew off my boss.” With a grin, he ducked through the interior door and then looked at her over his shoulder. “And I didn’t do much. Don’t use it until we get someone out to fix it.”
“I won’t. Go on—you told the sheriff four minutes. You know he has the stopwatch running.”
“Bye, Dais.” Her name was muffled as the door swung shut behind him.
After refastening the locks, she returned to the kitchen. Gathering her laptop and the dolls’ box, she headed for the study. The house seemed too quiet in Chris’s absence. Strangely, the increased frequency of his visits was making it harder when he wasn’t there, instead of easier.
Although she tried to return to her research, she found herself staring blankly at the computer screen. Without Chris there to joke with about the dolls, she couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for the project. Normally, she liked learning new things, but too many thoughts were currently taking up space in her brain. The differences between composition and leather doll bodies just wasn’t holding her attention.
Leaning back in her desk chair, she spun in a circle. Daisy stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out what the deal was with her growing dissatisfaction. Before, she’d had moments of melancholy or loneliness, especially during sleepless nights, but she’d bounced out of it quickly. Her life wasn’t exciting—well, it hadn’t been until recently—but she’d been content…sort of.
It wasn’t just Chris’s weirdness, his switching back and forth between pushing her away and being Mr. I-Was-Worried-About-You. The walls of the house, which had always felt safe and protective, were beginning to chafe. More and more, her sanctuary felt like a trap.
After spending time with Lou, Rory, Ellie, and their respective men, Daisy wanted more. She was starting to feel like she could have more, too. They’d argued over if she was going to volunteer for the fire department or the dive team, as if it wasn’t an impossibility.
Hearing that had woken a tiny voice in the back of her mind, one that whispered how it might be conceivable, that she might not have to be trapped in her house for the rest of her life. It was a seductive glut of possibilities—getting a real job and learning how to drive and being able to make brownies whenever she got a craving, because she could pick up the eggs herself, instead of waiting until guilt drove her dad to stop by with groceries. Maybe, if she really wanted to put the cherry on the top of her fantasy, she could even go on an out-of-the-house date with Chris.
It was a wonderful dream, but it would never become reality if she fainted every time she saw an open door.
“Okay,” she said, the loudness of her voice startling her a little. She sounded almost fierce. “That’s what I want. Now how do I get that?”
Adjusting her computer so the screen faced her, Daisy opened a new browser window. After taking a deep breath and letting it out again, she began to search.
Chapter 10
Letting out a grunt, Rory stumbled back a few steps.
Daisy cringed. At least the other woman hadn’t landed on her butt like the last two times Daisy’s kicks had knocked Rory over. “Sorry! I keep forgetting you’re not Chris.”