Chapter Seven

The banging interrupted John’s concentration. Saturday morning was his time to sleep an extra hour and then catch up on his reading after a leisurely breakfast. His walk last night after he left Hannah’s had helped enough that he had only a slightly fitful night’s sleep.

The pounding stopped, but although the knocking wasn’t at his door, he laid down the book and went to check out the disturbance. Across the hall, a man stood knocking at Hannah’s apartment.

“Excuse me, mister. She’s not home.”

The guy whirled around, glaring at first, but quickly hiding his irritation behind a forced smile. “Do you know where I can find her?”

“No. Can I give her a message?” Was this the Eddie who was bothering her at work? His hand curled into a fist at his side. When the other man frowned and shook his head, John continued, “She left a little while ago, but I can tell her you came by.”

Dark eyebrows dipped again. “Did she go out with her new boyfriend?”

“I don’t know that either. May I ask who you are?” His patience was growing thin, but he needed to be certain if he were going to take a stand against whoever had stressed Hannah enough to make her lie about being in a relationship with someone else.

“Just a friend. So, was she alone?”

“I just heard her door shut when she left. I don’t keep tabs on her. Do you want me to tell her you were here?”

“No, I’ll see her later.” He turned and stomped down the stairs without further comment, slamming the outside door when he left the boardinghouse.

John clenched his jaws, his irritation fueling the urge to slam the apartment door. The irritating man had to be Eddie Stone, the persistent suitor, but he’d have to wait until Hannah returned to know for sure. He closed his eyes, released a deep sigh, and closed his door with an almost-silent click.

He returned to his book but was no longer able to concentrate. The man had been angry but tried to cover up his emotions. A visiting professor had once lectured on the different types of personalities, including those who had obsessive tendencies and would force themselves or their ideas on someone else. Could this be the case with the well-dressed but angry man? Regardless, divulging information about her to a stranger—particularly an angry stranger—would never happen.

John tried to read again, but the sound of a door being unlocked and opened across the hall drew his attention. Without taking time to mark his page, he tossed the book onto the sofa as he bolted up and opened the hall door before Hannah could step inside her apartment. “Hey.”

She glanced over a shoulder, smiled, and cocked her head to the side. “Hey, yourself. Why not come over? I have this really good coffee someone brought me, and it won’t take long to make a couple cups.”

He followed her in, taking the grocery bag from her arms and heading to the refrigerator. “I’ll put these away while you do the coffee.”

“Sure, but you’ll be happy to know—”

“Real milk!” He held the two bottles up like trophies, smiling at the thought of having such a treat for their coffee. “Lady, you hit the jackpot.”

Hannah laughed out loud. “I was just going to tell you about that. I was able to get two, so you can have one for your morning cereal.”

“Now that’s something I’ll look forward to.”

After he put one on the counter and the other in the refrigerator, he turned and leaned against the counter to watch her. She moved with such grace—a fluid motion that reminded him of a swan gliding across the water.

“I noticed it didn’t take you very long to shop. Guess there weren’t many people in the grocers?”

“Actually, the store was crowded, although no one bought a lot.”

“Did you have enough money to cover the groceries?”

“I spent three dollars, but there’s still a little left from the amount you gave me at the first of the week.”

John pulled out his wallet and laid a few more dollars on the counter, then took coffee cups from the cupboard and added a dollop of milk to each one. “I put a little extra money here—you’ll need it for next week’s food.” She glanced over and nodded, but continued to fill the coffee pot with water so he ventured, “Also, you had a visitor earlier.”

He watched her face, hoping to see her reaction. She only set the pot on the stove and turned to spoon coffee grounds into the basket.

“Oh?” Her focus remained on making the coffee.

“A guy, a little older than me, was pounding on your door. He didn’t give me his name.” He frowned when her hand stopped in mid-scoop, her body suddenly tense.

“What did he look like?”

“About six foot, black hair, and dressed nice.”

Her shoulders and arms sagged as if her body had deflated. “He’s the one I told you about.” She resumed making coffee with hands that now trembled. “Eddie.”

His back straightened, every muscle tense, ready to protect Hannah against the non-present enemy. The temptation to lash out was strong, but he understood the need to control any rash reaction that would probably have her running from him as fast as possible.

He drew in a breath to the count of ten and released it just as slowly. Better. “Is he bothering you?”

“No, not really,” she said, her voice soft. “Like I told you before, I made the mistake of going out with him a couple times, and now it’s like he thinks we’re engaged or something.” She turned around and leaned back against the counter, arms crossed and lips tightened.

“I repeat, is he bothering you?”

She glanced away, eventually shaking her head. John could feel blood pulsating at his temples. If the guy would only return while he was home, he’d love to practice some of Vince’s little tricks on the joker for causing Hannah grief.

She slowly dragged her gaze back to meet his. With her chin lowered, she watched him from under her lashes for several moments before speaking. “Can we talk about something else?”

The request came with a hint of pleading. He wanted to give in, not push the issue, but he had to know. “Has he been here before?”

“Can this discussion wait until we have our coffee?”

The tension between them choked off further conversation. He shoved both hands into his pockets and silently fumed.

Hannah eventually poured their coffee, handed one to John, and led the way to the table. Once they were seated, she wrapped her hands around the porcelain cup, took a deep breath, and began. “I told him a couple months ago that I didn’t want to date him anymore. He came over once after that—to change my mind.”

He clenched his teeth. “What happened?”

With her gaze downcast, she turned the cup around and around in the saucer.

When she failed to answer, he reached across and took one of her hands in his, gentling his tone. “Tell me.”

She shrugged, glanced up at him, then lowered her gaze again. “Not a lot, really. It happened before you arrived. When I opened the door, he pushed his way in and started telling me how much he loved me and how he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He pushed me up against the wall and was yelling in my face when the former tenant from across the hall pounded on my door. I was able to shove him away and answered. Without my even having to say a word, he came in and threw the guy out.”

“Did you know the tenant very well?”

She shook her head. “No, not really. Only by name. He was a writer, so he rarely came out of the apartment.”

Vince had obviously been right about needing someone to watch out for his daughter, just not for the reason, or from the people, he’d been concerned about.

“This was right after your mother died, right?”

She nodded, wiping at a stray tear. “He hasn’t bothered me for some time, but now, he’s back to asking me out and getting upset about being turned down.”

His anger escalated like a plane taking off, making him want to get his hands on the man who continued to harass and frighten Hannah. Inside he seethed, but with a Herculean effort, he managed to remain calm on the outside.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured, rising to pull her up from the chair and into his arms.

With both arms around her waist, he tucked his head in beside hers, content to just hold her close. At first, she froze, her body stiff and unyielding as a board. Gradually, when he remained still—not pushing her for any reaction—she melted against him, her arms sliding up his chest to encircle his neck. The sobs were soft, like a kitten mewing. He held on as her tears tamed his avenger spirit like water on a fire. There would be another day—and he’d be ready.

They stood for several minutes, swaying slightly. When she lifted her head, he blinked several times, and pulled farther back, forcing himself to lower tense shoulders and relax his arms to his sides.

With concentration, he managed to control the tone of his voice, keeping it low and even. “Are you okay?”

Hannah nodded, stepped around him, and after hesitating a moment, sat down and reached for her coffee cup. After a quick sip, she returned it to the saucer and then arranged it in perfect alignment with his.

His scowl returned. “I can tell the guy to get lost.”

“No, there’s no need,” she said, her gaze jerking up to meet his. “He’s nothing.”

For John, the man was far from being “nothing.” Sooner or later, the guy would return—and he’d take care of the situation, with or without her permission.

****

Hannah was almost sorry she’d invited John over for coffee earlier in the morning. Sure, she liked him—a lot—but the feelings she was beginning to have for him were unlike anything she’d ever felt for a man before. There had also been a moment when she’d looked up into his blazing eyes and felt fear. But then his tender side had returned. He was an odd mixture of conquering hero and gentle protector. Lion and teddy bear. She trusted him. A knight in shining armor who would ride to her defense if necessary.

She was sorry for the topic of conversation, not for his presence.

But he had left soon after finishing the coffee, and now she was bored. The afternoon stretched out ahead of her.

With the radio playing softly, she laid the evening’s outfit on the foot of the bed. A loud knocking on her apartment door had her racing across the small living room, all smiles, hoping John had returned. With a hand on the knob, she hesitated, remembering her mother had always cautioned her never to open the door without knowing who was on the other side. “Who’s there?”

“Open the door, Hannah. It’s Eddie.”

Her heart thudded, then surged. “No. I’ll see you next week at work.”

“Open it. Now.”

His demand was accompanied by more pounding. No way would she allow him another opportunity to push into her home.

“Hey, buddy. What’s the problem?” John’s muffled voice came through the door.

Never had she had a prayer answered before she even asked.

“This is none of your business.”

“It’s definitely my business if you’re harassing Hannah. She’s not interested in your attention, so leave. Now.”

He was standing up for her. Hannah hovered by the door with a trembling hand resting near her throat, above her thundering heart.

“This is between Hannah and me. Get lost.”

She could hear a scuffle, then some obscenities being hurled at John, and finally, the front door of the boarding house slamming a floor below her.

With caution, she unlocked her door and peeked out. John trotted back up the stairs, calling out to unseen others that everything was okay now. That’s when she noticed the two other second-floor residents standing out in the hall, staring toward the stairs. The incident had caught the attention of everyone in the house.

Her heart sank. If word got back to the owner, she might lose her job collecting rents and then either have to start paying rent, which she couldn’t afford, or move.

At the top of the stairs, he turned toward her, not hesitating a step as he brushed past her into her apartment. “We need to talk,” he informed when he stopped inside and turned back to face her.

She hesitated only a moment before joining him inside and closing the door. Her heartbeat was still erratic when she faced him. Anger had transformed his gaze from calm to stormy, but she didn’t fear this man who had just intervened to protect her. “Thank you.”

“There needs to be a change of policy here.”

Hannah waited, her fingers clenched and shoulders tense.

“Starting immediately, the front door of the boardinghouse will be locked—day and night. Each resident has a key, right?” When she only nodded, he continued, “Good. Tomorrow—or better yet, right now—go door-to-door and tell everyone that from now on, they will need to use their key to come in the front and back doors. They will remain locked to keep the riffraff outside. Agreed?”

She nodded. That was actually a good idea. “I’ll tell everyone now.” She turned toward the door, feeling his presence right behind her. When a hand slid along her upper arm, she stopped and turned to step into his waiting arms. “Thank you,” she mumbled again against his chest.

His body provided needed warmth and security. She hardly knew him, yet trusted him explicitly. What was it about John that made her instantly believe him and do whatever he said? The answer was easy. Everything about him screamed honesty and integrity.

“Come on, let’s tell everyone before…”

She stood staring up into his eyes, wondering what he’d stopped himself from saying. When he shook his head and pivoted to leave the apartment, she followed. Gratitude welled up inside, choking her with a desire to cry. After his heroic gesture of ushering Eddie away from her door, she owed him so much more than a hot meal each night.

After making the rounds, he escorted her back to her door. “Um, I…um…” She had a difficult time maintaining eye contact. Why couldn’t she just tell him how much she’d grown to care about him and how much he meant to her? When he reached a finger out and used it to lift her chin, she slowly raised her gaze to meet his.

“You can tell me anything, pretty lady.” When she only stared up into his eyes, he continued. “Yes, I was angry earlier and a bit physical with the guy, but I think he understands not to come here again and not to bother you at work. I need you to let me know if he doesn’t do as he promised me he would.”

His voice was calm, yet held a cold hardness that had her convinced he was capable of handling the situation if Eddie chose to go back on his word. She felt guilty, as if naming him as her boyfriend had dragged him into this mess. She had to be sure he wasn’t upset with her lying to Eddie about her relationship with him but hesitated.

“What’s on your mind?”

She started to lower her head, but his hand under her chin refused it permission to bow. She glanced around, wondering if the neighbors were listening just inside their doors. “Can you come back inside for a few minutes?”

He nodded, following without a word when she entered her apartment and moved into the living room to perch on the sofa’s edge. “Thank you for being so sweet and riding to my rescue. Despite telling him about you a couple of days ago, he insisted on taking me out again. I turned him down. He’s…persistent.”

“What’s his full name again?”

“What? Oh, it’s Stone. Eddie Stone.”

“If he’s ever stupid enough to bother you again, be sure to remind him that your guy lives right across the hall.”

My guy? Oh how she was starting to wish that were true.

“I dread going to work next week.” She shoved her hands into the hair on each side of her head, lifting the heavy thickness off her neck. She held it taunt for a moment before removing her hands and allowing the strands to flop back to their former place.

“I don’t think he’ll bother you again.”

His tone caught her attention, causing her to narrow her eyes, and draw her brows in a bit closer. “What did you say to him?”

“It doesn’t matter.” John reached out and gently cupped both her upper arms, tugging slightly until she stood close. Then he leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “Don’t worry about him—and don’t feel guilty about what you said to him. In fact, besides going to Hughes’ dinner party tonight,” he drawled, leaning back to smile down at her upturned face, “why don’t we go out together sometime soon…and then it’ll be the truth?”

Yes, yes, yes. “I’d enjoy that. Thank you.”

“Okay, great. I’ll see you later.”

His arms dropped to his side, yet he hesitated a moment—a moment while she prayed he’d kiss her goodbye, but he only smiled again and then walked out the door.

Disappointment sent a tingle down to her toes, but she wasn’t one to give up on a dream.

He was her white knight—ready to defend her honor. She’d only needed someone to stand up for her once before today, but she definitely appreciated what he’d done. Having John live close would help her sleep at night.

“Mother,” she said, glancing toward the ceiling, “I wish you could be here to meet John. You’d love him, too.”

From the first day—from the moment he stood in front of her holding out a bouquet of spaghetti, her heart had belonged to him—whether he wanted it or not. Now, her future held excitement and promise.