“Daddy!”
Lucy’s shrill cry shot Finn to his feet. He rushed to the adjoining room to find his daughter sitting up in the sleeping bag.
Twin streams of blood poured from her nose, staining her pillow, her pajamas. Was it even in her hair?
His stomach clenched.
No, no, no—not now.
He snatched her up, scanning the barren room for—anything. No towels. No tissues. Just a useless, blood-stained pillowcase. He marched to the nearest bathroom, trying to keep his voice calm. “Were you picking at your nose again, lamb?”
Lucy pinched her lips into a tiny pucker as he placed her on the sink counter. “Only a little, Daddy, I promise.”
“You remember what the doctor said.” He kept one end of thepillow cover on her nose while dipping the other end into cold water, alternating it to wipe at some of the bloodstains on her face.
She nodded, lip trembling. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
Her big green eyes, filling with unshed tears, gutted him.
After the last series of nosebleeds, the doctor had cauterized the wound on the inside of her nose, just before they'd left England. She must have reopened the wound. There was a chance this one might heal on its own, but he couldn’t know at the moment. He shot a look to his phone. He’d planned to contact their new doctor once they’d gotten settled—thought he’d have more time before another emergency. He wiped at the twin trail still running at such a rate to hint that this pillowcase would not be enough. “It’s an easy thing to do, lamb, but hopefully this will help you remember a bit.”
She nodded behind the cloth. He held in his wince at the state of her face and clothes... and he had nothing but paper towels and a soiled pillow cover with which to help her.
He didn’t even have towels for a bath. A washcloth and dishcloth, but no towels. Because everything else was supposed to have arrived with the moving truck. He groaned. Why didn’t he think of such things mere hours ago when they traipsed around the hardware store in search of sleeping bags and a lamp?
He pulled the pillowcase away from her nose. Praise be! Already the blood was slowing a bit. Perhaps he’d be mercifully saved from a trip to the emergency room, but they still needed a place to clean up.
“I’m afraid we must go in search of some help.” From his research, the little town closed by nine. Perhaps the grocery remained open longer?
He gave his head a shake. No, he remembered it closed at eleven, and he looked down at his phone and saw it was just now eleven.
He squeezed his eyes closed, using that last bit of brain power for another prayer. Wait, hadn’t the Realtor mentioned a neighbor?
Finn turned toward the window. A light glowed in the next apartment over Daphne’s shop.
Someone was awake. And close. Did Daphne live there? For some reason, he thought she lived with her brother in a house on the outskirts of town, but at least someone would be nearby.
“Looks like we’re testing out that famous Southern hospitality, Lucy.”
He scooped her off the counter, grabbed his keys, and stepped into the warm night air, taking a set of stairs that led down from his apartment across a small grassy area to another stair leading back up to the next. The evening breeze dampened the summer heat and carried with it the scent of cinnamon. Cinnamon? At eleven o’clock at night? Finn breathed it in, appreciating the memories it unearthed of grandparents and lazy afternoons.
The scent of cinnamon grew stronger as he approached the door, teasing him closer. Oh, he felt fairly certain he knew this neighbor already. There was a real possibility she kept a cinnamon-scented candle burning at all times.
And a little of the tension fell from his shoulders.
She’d help. Maybe not for his sake but for Lucy’s.
No doubt.
Finn rapped the red door, same shape and form as his own, only much more colorful. A large wreath of myriad-colored flowers took up nearly the entire top half of the door. The sound of some instrumental montage bled through the wall. He’d heard it before. But where? Intense-sounding. Suspenseful.
He knocked again. This time the music dampened, and a dog barked, followed by a resounding thud. Finn looked down at Lucy, whose eyes widened from behind the pillow cover.
“They have a dog, Daddy.”
“Coming,” came the singsongy voice of a woman.
Afamiliarvoice.
