The Magnolia Sisters (Magnolia Sisters #1) - Michelle Major Page 0,18
the old Reed house. In all the years he’d been friends with Carrie, he’d never been in her father’s home. That privilege had been saved for denizens of the community back in Niall’s heyday, when he and his ex-wife had hosted parties for society types who came to Magnolia just to meet the eccentric painter.
Carrie appeared in the doorway as he approached, gesturing him in with a frantic wave of her arm. “I don’t think she’s badly injured,” his friend told him. “But I can tell she’s in pain.”
“Show me.”
With a nod she turned and led him through the house. He registered the furniture, stacks of paper and general clutter that seemed to cover every square inch, but his attention remained focused on getting to Avery.
“There are too many heavy pieces in the spare bedroom for me to get a ladder under her,” Carrie explained, reiterating what she’d told him on the phone.
He’d been at the station when she called, now thankful for a slow morning. As Carrie hurried up the main staircase and into a room lined with built-in bookshelves but crammed with tables and chairs piled up like the makings of a bonfire, he saw the pair of shapely legs clad in dark jeans dangling from a hole in the ceiling. Tufts of pink insulation clung to her hips.
The house was one of the oldest in Magnolia, with ten-foot ceilings even on the second floor. That fact gave the room an open feel, despite how crowded it was. But it wasn’t going to make it any easier to get Avery unstuck.
“Gray’s here,” Carrie called, and Gray saw the legs go tense.
“I’m fine.” Avery’s tone was exasperated but he could hear the thread of pain in it. “I don’t need help.”
“Where’s the attic?” he asked Carrie.
She backed out of the bedroom and pointed to an open doorway across from the main staircase. “I warned her not to go up there.”
“This isn’t the time for ‘I told you so,’” Avery shouted.
Carrie gave him a look and lowered her voice. “Get her out, Gray. She’s irritating as hell, but I can’t have her hurt in this mess of a house.”
“She’ll be fine,” he reassured her. “I’m going to try to make this work from above instead of below. I’ll need reinforcements if we’re going to move the furniture. That’ll take too long.”
He climbed the steps, waving a hand in front of his face until the dust that filled the air cleared.
“You sure know how to make your mark on a place,” he said casually as he surveyed the scene.
“I don’t need your help,” she snapped. “Doesn’t Carrie have a helpful neighbor she could call?”
“She called me,” he answered simply. He kind of liked Avery Keller’s attitude and admired her calm in the situation, but right now he was all business. “Can you tell if the floor joists around you will hold my weight or are they too damaged?”
“The ones in front of me will give,” she answered. “I’m wedged in here tight and when I try to shift my weight to lift myself up, everything feels like it’s sagging.”
“Then don’t move.”
“Thanks for the tip,” she muttered. “In case you care, I also have a piece of splintered wood lodged in my left arm. So I can only use the right one at the moment.”
His gut tightened at the thought of her in pain. “Do you think anything’s broken?” He stepped gingerly toward her, making sure to test each section of floorboard before he moved. He couldn’t very well help her if he ended up in the same predicament.
“Bruised,” she admitted, “but not broken. Do you think Clark Griswold knew how lucky he was to land on that bunk bed?”
“That’s the Hollywood version of this scenario. This is real life.”
“Does that mean I’m not going to get a happy ending?”
“You’re going to be fine,” he told her, placing his tool bag on the floor and pulling out a small saw.
“You must practice that commanding tone at the firehouse.” She laughed softly. “It’s weirdly reassuring.”