LITMIR.BIZ

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logged in the McKnight kitchen, making brownies or popcorn balls or snickerdoodles.

      “Have you checked on Maura today?” Claire asked, aware even as she spoke of Riley’s features going taut.

      “I just dropped off a basket of muffins for her.”

      “How is she?”

      “Hard to say. She’s numb. The way she’s acting, you’d think she was drugged or something, but she refuses to take anything the doctor is trying to give her. She says it will only anesthetize her brain and delay the pain.”

      “Is someone with her?” Riley asked. Claire heard the grim note in his voice and saw the way his jaw tightened.

      “Sage. Thank the Lord for her.”

      Poor Sage. Claire was somewhat ashamed to realize she’d been so busy worrying about Maura that she hadn’t given much thought to her friend’s older daughter, who had lost her only sister. Smart and funny and uncommonly pretty, Sage wanted to be an architect. She was in her second year at the University of Colorado at Boulder, finishing her general education credits. This was bound to hit her hard.

      “She has to go back Monday,” Alex said as she finally slid into a chair around the table. “Finals are the week after next.”

      “That will be tough on Maura, when she’s alone in the house.” That had been the roughest times at first when the divorce had been finalized, when Jeff would take the kids and she would be alone here in this big house.

      Worry furrowed Alex’s fey features. “Sage wanted to just bag school and stay home because she’s already missed two weeks of classes, but Maura won’t hear of it. I have to agree. I mean, she’s this close to the end, it seems foolish to throw away an entire semester. I’m just not sure how Maura will do once Sage returns to school. I think Ma will probably go stay with her for a while, if she’ll let her.”

      Claire had doubts about the likelihood of that. Like all the McKnight women, Maura was fiercely independent and liked her space, even in the midst of trouble.

      Riley’s features had grown increasingly wooden throughout the conversation. Now he pushed away from the table and took his plate to the sink, in the way of someone who had been trained well in a houseful of women.

      “I’m sure the landfill still closes early on Saturday,” he said, his voice gruff. “I’d better head out so I can make it there in time to drop your branches for the wood chipper.”

      He extended a hand out to snag his work gloves and protective eyewear from the counter, a movement that stretched his T-shirt over strong back muscles. Claire swallowed hard and quickly looked away.

      “Thank you again for—” picking up the storm debris, kissing me senseless, making me feel wanted “—everything.”

      He smiled but his green eyes were still troubled. “You’re welcome. Thanks for the chow.”

      On his way out the door, he reached out and tugged a lock of Alex’s hair lightly. “See you, brat.”

      “Bye, dork.”

      He headed out the door and Claire watched him go, then turned back to Alex, only to find her friend aiming that narrow-eyed, probing look at her again.

      “Okay, what’s going on?”

      Claire willed herself not to flush. “What do you mean?”

      “Was Ri bothering you?”

      “Bothering me? No, of course not. He was helping me. You saw the truckload of branches. He’s been working in my yard for the last two hours.”

      “Was that all he was doing?”

      “What are you implying, Alexandra?”

      “I don’t know. Call me crazy. I’m just catching a weird vibe.”

      “Okay, you’re crazy,” she lied. “No weird vibe here.”

      Alex didn’t look convinced and Claire held up the cast on her arm and gestured to her leg with it. “Look at me. I’m not exactly hot babe material here.”

      “A little plaster wouldn’t stop Riley if he set his sights on a woman. You know how he is.”

      Claire frowned. She’d heard the way his sisters talked about Riley’s reputation with women and it bothered her suddenly. More than that, it made her sad.

      “Why do you do that?”

      “Do what?” Alex asked around a mouthful of sandwich.

      “You make him sound like some frat boy with a drawer full of condoms. He’s a decorated police officer. Maybe you ought to remember that and give him a little more credit.”

      Alex blinked. “O-kay.” She drew out the word.

      “I mean, what’s the difference between the two of you? You’re thirty-five years old and you haven’t dated any man for longer than two weeks in your life. You’ve got exactly the same commitment issues. In yourself, you consider it exercising discernment. When Riley does the same thing, you all think he’s a dog.”

      “You implying I’m a female dog, Claire-a-bell? Because I can go there, if that’s what you want.”

      Although Alex’s tone was mild, Claire could see the temper spark in her eyes. It jarred her back to her senses. Why was she doing this? Alex was her best friend. She loved her better than any sister.

      “I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re a player, honey. You know I don’t. But Riley’s not, either.” She paused. “He’s ripped up by the accident and what happened. Layla and Taryn and…everything. Give him a break, okay?”

      “Fine,” she said after a moment. “And just to show you what a kind, loving sister I am—not to mention what a good friend—I’m not even going to ask why you’re suddenly so quick to jump to his defense.”

      Claire wasn’t sure she could answer that question, even if Alex had not decided to be so magnanimous.

      “Now that’s out of the way, tell me the truth. How are you really feeling?”

      Claire hadn’t given any thought to her assorted aches since Riley showed up with his chain saw two hours earlier.

      “I don’t feel like I was dragged down the mountain behind a snowcat anymore.”

      “That’s something anyway.”

      “Now I’m just impatient to get back to work. I hate that I had to dump everything at the store on Evie.”

      “She’s coping.” Alex rose and carried her plate to the sink, just as her brother had done. She went him one better, though, and started automatically unloading the dishwasher.

      “I talked to Katherine this morning,” Claire said. Without the lifeline of her telephone, she would have gone crazy stuck here at home while she healed, not being able to even reach out to her grieving friends.

      “I haven’t called in a few days,” Alex answered. “How are things?”

      “She said they were placing a feeding tube through Taryn’s nose.”

      “That genuinely sucks.” To Alex, who loved food and everything about creating it, Claire imagined a feeding tube would seem the worst trial a person could endure.

      “Katherine said they’re talking about a long-term rehab facility for her now. Doctors said they can give her another week at the hospital while the rest of her injuries continue to heal and if she doesn’t come out of the coma by then, they’ll move her.”

      So much sorrow. She couldn’t bear it. She had to do something for her friends to ease the pain a little, but she had no idea what. The usual gestures of a warm meal or a lovely card seemed wholly inadequate. She needed to do more.

      “Enough of this,” Alex said, her voice

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