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makes them with currants and nuts and enough cinnamon to cure anything that ails you.”
     
    It looked like a bigger, gooier version of the cinnamon rolls Leonard had brought to the warehouse—had that been this afternoon? “No, thanks. Watching my weight.” And I didn’t think I could eat it with the unexpected lump in my throat.
     
    He seemed to want to say something. Instead he nodded and walked ahead of me into the hall. It was almost too dark to move without bumping into the walls. “No electric lights? Flashlight? Candle? I’ll take anything.”
     
    “I’d turn up the gas,” he said cheerfully, “but I think we’ve tested Kathleen’s good will enough for the day.”
     
    “Good will?”
     
    He caught the dubious note and laughed. “Oh you don’t know, Mr. Nash. It’s quite unusual that she agreed to have you. She doesn’t take new tenants without an interview and she never allows guests without considerable notice. Derry had to do a lot of wheedling.”
     
    “Isn’t this his house?”
     
    “His, yes, but after he lost his wife, he left the care of it to Kathleen and she let rooms to keep them both from starving. He hadn’t the will, for a while, to do much of anything.”
     
    “His wife died?” I bit my lip, hoping they couldn’t hear us in the kitchen. Lowering my voice, I asked, “When?”
     
    The hall brightened and I saw Ezra near a lamp on a narrow table parked against the wall. He considered the question. “It’s been about three years now.”
     
    “Is the little girl his?”
     
    “Little girl?” He looked puzzled. Then his mouth twitched into a grin. “Hannah Jolley is Kathleen’s maid-of-all-work, Mr. Nash.”
     
    We started up the stairs, Ezra devouring the roll as we went. The second floor seemed even darker and less inviting. I tried to ignore the forlorn feeling creeping through me and instead focused longingly on eight hours’ uninterrupted sleep.
     
    Ezra went into a room, leaving the door open for me to follow. As soon as he’d lit a lamp, I noted the wood frame bed tucked in one corner, a brass-trimmed trunk at its foot. A pair of cushioned, high-back chairs were in front of a small, smoke-stained fireplace. Held in place by a pair of candlesticks, a lacy cloth hung dangerously low over the mantle. There were other feminine touches all through the room, including a brown shawl draped over the far pillow on the bed.
     
    “You sure it’s all right for me to stay here?”
     
    He turned up the lamp and fixed me with an even more curious stare. Okay, maybe I didn’t look like the sensitive type, but he didn’t have to seem so surprised that I’d noticed the evidence of a man still grieving. “I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to disturb—his things. You can’t put me up somewhere else?”
     
    “Derry would not have invited you to stay with him if he were uneasy with the idea. It’s all right. I do think it just comforts him to keep her things around.” Ezra removed the shawl and, folding it, laid it on one of the chairs by the fireplace.
     
    “There’s not an unoccupied room further up?”
     
    “The top floor is Mr. Cotton, Mr. Tenpenny, and Dr. Gilbride. There are no other rooms.”
     
    “What about that room downstairs, the one we passed coming up? I couldn’t just sleep on the sofa or something?”
     
    His eyes widened. “In Kathleen’s sitting room? You are a brave man, Mr. Nash.” He gave me a light push toward the bed. “It will be all right,” he repeated. “I think Derry is feeling a little guilty that we spirited you away from home, so to speak. This is his way of atoning.”
     
    “And what about you?” I eased off the borrowed jacket and tossed it to him.
     
    He caught it and draped it over his arm. “What about me?”
     
    “How are you planning to atone for disrupting my life?” Though I had to admit, to myself at least, that I’d disrupted my life just fine while safe in my own century. If Reese had called—and