Sweet Sanctuary by Kim Vogel Sawyer

ever-lovin’ door!”
    Lydia would have taken a step back, but Micah blocked her. The door swung open and a wrinkle-faced old woman in a wrinkled, faded housedress, bare legs, and—of all things—men’s boots with no laces, stood scowling in the opening. She fixedLydia with a harsh glare. “Yeah, missy, what do ya want? I ain’t buyin’ nothin’, if yer sellin’.”
    Micah leaned over Lydia’s shoulder. “Mrs. Flannigan, me old darlin’, I wouldn’t dream of sellin’ you a thing.”
    The woman’s face lit when Micah came into her view. To Lydia’s amazement, she even preened, lifting her hand to touch the frizzy gray curls above her left ear. “Ah, Micah, m’boy. Didn’t see ya there in the shadows. What can I be doin’ for ya today?”
    Micah tipped his head to indicate Lydia. “This is Miss Lydia Eldredge, a friend of mine from Boston. She’s here in New York on business, and she needs a place to stay.” The woman shook a ferocious finger at Micah, her blue eyes snapping. Micah rushed on. “Now, you know I’m not suggestin’ she stay with me, Mrs. Flannigan. You know me better than that!” The woman’s face relaxed, the warmth returning to her faded blue eyes. “But I was wonderin’ if Kelsey’s apartment was rented yet. Thought perhaps she could stay there. Might be only a day or two, but I’d pay for the whole month.”
    Lydia shot him a startled glance. She hadn’t intended for him to pay her room bill!
    Mrs. Flannigan scratched her knobby, whisker-dotted chin. “Well, now, Micah, ya know I’ve got a waitin’ list for that apartment. Could call today an’ have it filled, just like that.” She snapped her bony fingers. Then she tucked her chin downward with a flirtatious smile, causing her double chin to triple. “But, for you, m’boy, I’ll put off that call for a day ’r two. Yer friend can stay.” Finally the woman’s smile swept to include Lydia.
    â€œI thank you, Mrs. Flannigan. You’re a real darlin’, ye are!”
    Lydia never expected to hear an Irish brogue combined with a Texas twang. Her ears might never recover.
    â€œNow, can I be trustin’ you to get Lydia settled? I’ve got some business I must attend to.”
    Lydia’s heartbeat increased its rhythm. He wasn’t going to leave her here with this crusty old woman, was he?
    Micah dropped the suitcase by Lydia’s feet, touched her back lightly, and whispered, “You’re in good hands with Mrs. Flannigan. Turn in early, rest well, and I’ll take you along to the clinic with me tomorrow morning. We’ll talk there.” After a broad wink in Mrs. Flannigan’s direction, which caused the woman to titter like a young girl, Micah spun on his heel and dashed out the door.
    Lydia propped a hand on her hip. She turned to Mrs. Flannigan, who still wore a glow from Micah’s attention. The older woman sighed, patting the soiled bodice of her dress, then glanced in Lydia’s direction. She gave a start, dropping the hand and fussing with a torn corner on her pocket in a self-conscious gesture.
    â€œYes, well, come along now, Miss . . . Eldredge, did ya say? From Boston, eh? I imagine yer tired from yer journey. Mrs. Flannigan will take good care o’ ya, yes she will. Grab yer case there, m’dear, an’ follow me.” The older woman herded Lydia to the staircase and began grunting her way upward, tugging at Lydia’s hand.
    Lydia followed, but she looked between the stairway railing toward the doors where Micah had disappeared. How she wished she knew what business had caused such a state of urgency.

10
    M icah hoped Lydia would forgive him for dumping her on his landlady, but he knew Mrs. Flannigan would get her settled in. He chuckled, fondness for the older woman warming his chest. She was a