“Is everything okay?” Maggie called from next door.
Aaron must have looked out from across the road to check on the noise. He sprinted over to support his brother, taking in the scene in a sweeping glance as Shelby followed only a bit more slowly. Aaron was still in jeans and a T-shirt, bare feet stuffed into sandals. Shelby wore plaid sleep shorts, a lace-edged tank top and flip-flops, evidence to Hannah that they’d settled in for a quiet evening. Pax raised his head from Steven’s porch and gave a questioning bark.
“Everything okay over there?” Steven called from his doorway.
“It’s fine, Steven,” Andrew replied. “Don’t try to get out. We’re good.”
“Andrew, you’re bleeding,” Shelby said, peering up at him.
He swiped at his temple with the back of one hand, smearing blood across his cheek, a dark stripe in the dim light. “It’s shallow,” he assured them. “I’ll stick an adhesive strip on it in a minute. First, I want to know what happened with this railing. How the hell did it break just from my leaning against it?”
“Good question,” Aaron agreed grimly, bending to study the broken rail. “Hannah, do you have a flashlight?”
“I’ll get it,” Maggie said before Hannah could reply, heading toward the door. “I know where she keeps it.”
Hannah figured Maggie thought she could move faster and more safely up the steps—and she was probably right. Maggie was back in only a couple of minutes while Hannah hovered close to Andrew, her throat still tight from the shock of watching him fall. She noted that he moved rather stiffly as he and Aaron closely examined the railing and the porch, talking in low, solemn voices while Aaron ran the beam of the flashlight over every inch of wood on the ground and the porch. Andrew’s white shirt and khaki pants were smeared with mud now—at least, she hoped it was only mud and that there wasn’t any blood hidden by the dirt.
“I can’t imagine why that railing broke,” Maggie fretted, shaking her head. “Dad built that porch himself, and he’s such a stickler about making sure everything is solid and secure.”
“The broken railing was a result of Andrew’s fall, not the cause of it,” Aaron replied grimly.
Hannah frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Andrew rested a hand on her shoulder. Even though his touch was gentle, his face was hard with barely suppressed anger. “Someone deliberately sabotaged your railing, Hannah. Some of the wood screws are missing altogether, and I know your dad didn’t leave it that way. When I leaned against the railing, the supports gave way. The handrail broke when I landed on it.”
Hannah was stunned into silence. Not so Maggie. “Who on earth would take the screws out of Hannah’s porch?” she asked in bewilderment. “And why?”
“I’ll be right back.” Carrying the flashlight, Aaron ran next door to Maggie’s trailer, where he examined the porch closely before crossing the road to Shelby’s and Steven’s homes.
Seeing Andrew wipe his face again, Hannah shook off her stupor. “Come inside,” she ordered him. “I want to get a look at that cut. I have a first-aid kit if it only needs a bandage. I can make tea for anyone who wants to come in for some.”
Shelby glanced down as if trying to decide if her state of dress was sufficient, then shrugged and nodded. “Tea sounds good. I’m sure the guys are going to want to talk about this.”
Thinking of a talk that had been delayed—yet again—Hannah nodded and turned toward her home, accepting her sister’s help as they climbed the steps.
* * *
Andrew was furious and having a hard time keeping that anger in check. He did not consider himself a violent man, but if the person who had removed the screws from Hannah’s porch supports stood in front of him now, he couldn’t promise he would keep his hands to himself. The thought of her falling, hitting the gro
und with the same force he had, especially in her condition—the thought of her being injured, maybe even losing the baby...
His fists clenched and a low growl escaped his tight throat.
Hannah’s hands stilled in the process of cleaning and bandaging the cut at his left temple. “Am I hurting you?”
She and Maggie had both fussed that perhaps he should go to the E.R. for a scan, but he’d assured them that wasn’t necessary and Aaron had backed him up. He was sore all over and figured he’d have more than a few colorful bruises the next day. There was a distinct possibility he’d cracked a rib on his right side. A dull headache throbbed in his temples and at the back of his neck, but his vision was fine, he wasn’t dizzy or confused. He wasn’t concussed, just mad as hell.
“You aren’t hurting me. Just stick a bandage on it and I’ll be fine.”
Leaning over the kitchen chair in which he sat, she frowned at him. “If you won’t be still, the bandage is liable to end up in your eye.”
Sitting across the table with a cup of hot tea, Shelby giggled. Andrew gave her a look, but subsided so Hannah could finish her task.
Not amused, Aaron paced the kitchen. “So no one’s porch was touched except Hannah’s,” he murmured, organizing his thoughts aloud. “We haven’t had time to check the houses, but there’s no reason to think anything has been done there. We should check in daylight tomorrow, just to be sure, but this seems to be aimed at Hannah for some reason. Which makes the slashing of her tires yesterday look less like a random act of vandalism.”
Unable to stay away, Steven had crossed the road on his crutches to join them. He sat now at the table with Maggie and Shelby, all of them watching Aaron pace and Hannah patch Andrew’s cut. “Who would want to hurt Hannah of all people? I mean, Hannah’s the nicest of all of us.”
Andrew noted that Maggie and Shelby nodded as if that were a given, while Hannah made an embarrassed sound of skepticism.