Reece stepped back and let Sara enter first. “Was that Miss Greer?” Concern etched his handsome face.

Sara was about to answer, but Miss Greer called again. “Sara?” The voice came from the open pantry. “Is that you?”

“I’m coming, Miss Greer!” Sara and Reece rushed to the pantry. Through the doorway they could see their white-haired landlady lying amidst an avalanche of boxes and canned goods. Flour covered her face-it looked as if an open bag of the stuff had fallen on her head.

“Oh, my God, what happened?” Sara’s first instinct was to reach for Miss Greer and get her back on her feet, but Reece stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

“Don’t move her,” he said. “If she’s injured, that might make things worse.”

“What happened?” Sara asked again.

“I’m not sure.” The elderly lady sounded less panicked now that help had arrived. “Maybe I slipped on something. When I started to fall, I grabbed the shelf and pulled half the pantry down on top of me and now I’m stuck. Thank goodness it was the flour that hit me in the head, rather than the economy-size can of cling peaches.”

“Are you injured, Miss Greer?” Reece asked. “Does anything hurt?”

“Now, don’t fuss over me,” she groused, moving her head around so they could see she at least hadn’t broken her neck. “I think I can stand up if you two help.”

Sara and Reece both squeezed into the pantry. It was a tight fit, with all three of them in there, and under other circumstances Sara would have enjoyed the proximity. Reece was a thoroughly delicious man, tall and rangy with broad shoulders showcased perfectly by the starched, button-down shirts he wore. If only he would relax a little…

Reece took one of Miss Greer’s arms and Sara took the other, and they tried to pull her up. But they’d moved her only a few inches when she howled in pain and they were forced to gently set her back down.

“Where does it hurt?” Sara asked.