And there were Neil’s hands again, landing on her shoulders this time as he lowered to the step. “Maybe just don’t move for a sec.”

Why did he sound irritated with her? Shouldn’t he be trying not to laugh at her right now? Isn’t that what he usually did? Made a pointless attempt to hide his amusement despite the light in his ridiculously blue eyes?

A light missing now. Didn’t stop the flush she could feel crawling up her neck or the frisson of awareness at his closeness.

She whirled away, smart enough this time to grab hold of the thin wood railing and watch where she stepped. She needed to find where the flour had rolled to, retrieve the rest of her ingredients, and get out of this tiny pantry. Neil had been in here all of five seconds and he was already using up all the air in the room.

“What’re you doing in here?”

“Lemon bars. Maggie said they sounded good.” She hurried down to the floor and crouched to reach her arm under the steps. She felt around for the canister. “What’s wrong with all the doors around here?”

“The doors are fine. Maybe it’s the person trying to use them who’s got the issue.”

“I’ve been opening doors just fine for most of my life so—” Her hand connected with the canister. She slid it free and rose.

Just in time to see Neil reaching the bottom of the steps. No barely concealed laughter. Not even a hint of a grin. There was something hard about the tic of his jaw, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed.

Maggie had warned her he wouldn’t be happy she’d refused to see a doctor. That he’d most likely feel guilty for not being there when she fainted, however irrational. But this didn’t look like displeasure or misdirected blame.

It looked like resentment.

Directed at her.

“Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t take her straight to—”

“What in the world possessed you to tell her about the money problems?”

Oh. Oh. She pressed her eyes closed for a moment. She’d hoped Maggie hadn’t remembered . . . had assumed when Maggie hadn’t brought it up on the way home . . .

A futile hope and a faulty assumption. “Neil, I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to say—”

“I told you I didn’t want to burden her. I told you I was taking care of things and there was no point in bothering her with it. You had no reason not to believe me. No right to put that on her.”

Her grip on the canister tightened. “It slipped out. She was upset. I was upset.” She shook her head, trying to remember what exactly she’d even said. Oh goodness. Financial danger zone. Those were the words she’d used.