“I notice you’re eager to help Lamar find his dad. Have you ever looked for your own?”
She could see the tension in his face as his jaw tightened. “Why the hell would I want to?” he asked heatedly.
“For the same reason you’re trying to find Lamar’s father for him—because your dad broke your heart when he abandoned you.”
Ryan shrugged, clearly refusing to concede the obvious. “I got over it.”
“Did you?”
“Yes,” he said emphatically, his scowl deepening. “And I don’t talk about that time in my life. Not ever.”
“Maybe you should.”
“And maybe you should mind your own damned business!”
He left her on the sidewalk staring after him, stunned by the force of his anger.
“Well, hell,” she muttered, swiping at the tears spilling down her cheeks.
She was still standing in the exact same spot, debating whether to go after him, when Ryan reappeared at the corner. She watched as he sucked in his breath, squared his shoulders and walked toward her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have bitten your head off like that.”
“No,” she agreed, “you shouldn’t have, even though I understand why you did.”
“My family’s a sore subject.”
“I gathered that.”
“Then you won’t bring them up again, right?”
She met his gaze evenly and shook her head. “I can’t promise that, not when it’s so apparent that what happened with them shaped your whole life.”
He regarded her with obvious exasperation. “Dammit, Maggie, what do you want from me? You come busting into my life and act as if I’m suddenly your personal mission.”
“Maybe that’s exactly what you are,” she said. “There has to be some reason why I keep coming back to see a man as cranky and ill-tempered as you are.”
His lips twitched slightly. “You have a thing for cranky, ill-tempered men?”
“Apparently so,” she said with a deliberate air of resignation.
His lips curved into a full-fledged grin then. “Lucky me.”
She grinned back at him. “Try to remember that.”
“Oh, I imagine you’re going to give me plenty of occasions to question it,” he said.
She nodded. “It is my mission, remember?”
“Maggie—”
She touched a finger to his lips to silence him. “Just accept it. I’m here to stay.”
“But why?” he asked, obviously bewildered.
“It’s that cranky, ill-tempered-man thing,” she reminded him. “I’m a sucker for a challenge.” She hooked her hand around his neck and drew his head down till she could kiss him. “It doesn’t hurt that you’re a great kisser.” She winked at him. “Gotta get home. You’re invited for Sunday dinner, by the way. Mom insisted.”
He shook his head. “Not today.”
“Better things to do?” she asked, not surprised by the refusal and determined not to push for once.
“Nope. Safer things to do,” he told her.
Maggie laughed. “See you, then.”
She was halfway to her car, rather pleased with herself despite his refusal to come to dinner, when he called after her.
“Hey, Maggie!”
She turned back, regarding him with a questioning look.
“Drive carefully.”
“Always do.”
“And call me when you get home, okay?”
Well, well, well, the man was learning, she thought. “Will do,” she promised.
She noticed he was still standing on the sidewalk, watching her car when she finally turned the corner and drove out of sight. He looked so lonely, she almost went around the block and demanded that he come with her. She could have persuaded him if she’d really tried.
“One step at a time,” she murmured to herself. Right now they were frustrating baby steps, two forward, half a dozen back, but after this morning she had a feeling a giant leap forward was just around the corner.
Chapter Eight
For the next few days Maggie was careful not to push too hard. She didn’t want to risk the progress she’d made so far. That didn’t keep her away from Ryan’s Place, though. She turned up most nights, always finding some way to make herself useful. One of these days Ryan would discover he couldn’t get along without her.
At the same time, she cleverly avoided any further mention of his accounting system. There was no sense in antagonizing him when they were making such nice advances in other areas. Sooner or later he’d trust her enough to listen to her financial advice. She didn’t stop to question why she was so determined to make herself indispensable to a small business when she ought to be out looking for a big corporate position that would make use of her MBA.
In the meantime, there were the books at St. Mary’s to be straightened out. Father Francis had none of Ryan’s reticence when it came to utilizing Maggie’s expertise. In fact, he seemed delighted to have someone take over the task of sorting through the chaotic system the church had been using for decades.
As for the shelter, it had no system at all. If there was a need, donations were found to help. Money came and went in a haphazard manner that would have set an IRS agent’s teeth on edge. Maggie didn’t doubt for a second that not one cent was spent on anything other than legitimate expenses, but there were few records to prove it.
She stared helplessly at the pile of unorganized receipts that had been crammed into a drawer. “What were you thinking?” she asked Father Francis. “Do you have any idea what kind of dangerous path you’ve been following? If there was ever an audit…” She shuddered just contemplating it.
“It’s a bit of a tangle, isn’t it?” Father Francis admitted, seemingly not the least big chagrined. “But I don’t see the need for a lot of fuss. We’ve more important things to do. If the money’s there, we spend it on those who need our assistance. If it’s not, we go out and find what we need. Why complicate things?”
Maggie groaned at his logic. “Have you even filed for nonprofit status?”
“It’s an outreach of the church,” he said, as if that settled the matter.
“But none of the shelter’s funds or activities are on the church’s books.”
He refused to see the point, clearly trusting that the shelter’s mission and good
