But Easton wasn’t easily dismissed. “No offense, but I can tell it’s not fine. You’re hurt. What happened?”
“It’s nothing. I’ve got it handled.”
Easton held his hands up to show her he didn’t pose a threat, and he moved into the street, stopping when he stood in the middle, closer to her yet far enough away not to spook her or the dog, which watched intently while shielding the woman with its massive body.
“Look, I know you have no reason to trust me, but I can see you need help. I live just right there. You don’t have to come inside, but let me help you at least get to my porch. You can call someone to pick you up, and we can check your injury.”
“So you bought the Davises’ house?”
He eyed her carefully. She talked like a native, but he didn’t recognize her. Growing up in a small town had its perks, such as knowing just about everyone who lived there. It’s possible she was a local, and their paths hadn’t crossed until now, but he doubted that.
If she was new to town, he was surprised he hadn’t heard about her. Fire Creek was usually bustling with gossip when someone moved to town. Plus, that wouldn’t explain her knowledge of the previous owners of the house. His fascination with her rose a notch.
“Not sure who the Davises are. I never met them. I bought the house from Rose and Dan Cunningham, actually. They wantedto downsize, so they moved last year to a retirement community in Weaver. Nice couple.”
“Right. The Cunninghams. I remember now.”
Easton wanted to ask his own questions about who she was and how she knew the former owners of his house, but his priority had to be getting her to sit down somewhere that wasn’t the street.
“Look. I get that you don’t know me, and you have to be cautious of strangers, even though you’re packing more heat than I am at the moment. So if you’re not comfortable being alone with me while you wait for someone to pick you up, I can take you to my neighbor’s house just right there.”
He pointed to Darby Anne Maxwell’s house with the pristine yard that he’d spent hours working on earlier in the week. “When she sees the situation, she won’t mind us waking her up for help. You’ll know five seconds after meeting her that you’re safe with her, and she’ll vouch for me. What do you say?”
Her dog kept its body situated in front of her, but it sat down on the sidewalk. He moved a bit closer, watching for the dog to get antsy that he was approaching its owner, but she only watched him without growling a warning.
“That’s not necessary.” The woman sighed. “And if she’s not already awake, there’s no way you’re going to get her up out of bed.”
After a moment, Easton dropped his head and shook it at how oblivious he had been. “You’re Darby Anne’s granddaughter. She mentioned you were coming for a visit. Does she know you went for a run this late at night?”
“What I do is none of your business.”
He cocked a brow. “It is when you need my help to make it to the house.”
“I don’t need your help. You offered it. There’s a difference.”
He shrugged as he moved forward a few more steps, his eyes cutting to the dog shielding her from him. “Fair point. Now that we’ve cleared that up, can I help you across the street? My porch or Darby Anne’s house. It doesn’t matter to me.”
“My ankle’s fine now that I’ve given it some time to rest. I can make it to Gran’s house on my own. Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.”
He crossed his arms over his chest as he studied her. Stubborn and feisty with an independent streak thrown in. If he didn’t already know she was Darby Anne Maxwell’s granddaughter, that would have been proof enough.
“Okay. You know your own body’s limits, so if you think your ankle is good, then I’ll just stay right here.”
“Right there? In the middle of the road? I’m not paid entertainment for you—”
“Easton.”
She scowled, her brows coming together in an adorable furrow. “What?”
“My name. I realized I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Easton Hargrove.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Hargrove. You’re no longer needed.”
“I’m afraid it’s not my bedtime, sweetheart. I’ve got all the time in the world, and it’s a great night. I thought I’d enjoy being outside a bit longer.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a pain in the ass, Mr. Hargrove?”
Easton barked out a laugh. “I have three brothers. Being called a pain in the ass is a sign of love for me.”
