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her.
    'I'm sorry, Sis,' Steve apologised. ‘I forgot you were having trouble.'
    Normally an even-tempered girl, Sara had reached her breaking point. ‘Just get out, both of you,' she commanded.
    Brad Garwood moved towards the door, the look on his face saying he was glad to be leaving this Bohemian dive.
    Steve, however, hung back. 'I'm sorry, Sis. You know you can come stay with Helen and me.'
    ‘Out!' she snapped more sharply, and with a grimace he obeyed.
    Mrs Wynn had made it sound as if Sara had men callers every night, and as she locked the door it bothered her that Brad Garwood had got the impression that she was wanton in her behaviour. With a mental shrug she tried telling herself that it didn't matter what the man thought, but for some reason it did. In fact she had a tremendous urge to cry. Deciding that she was simply tired and still a little shaken up from her near-accident, she went to bed. Surely in the morning life would look brighter.
     

CHAPTER TWO
    Rising early to catch the morning light, Sara again dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt. Carrying her cup of coffee into her studio, she pulled on one of Steve’s cast-off shirts which she used as a smock and attempted to finish the canvas now on her easel. It only needed a few touch-up strokes and then she would be free to spend all her time searching for a new place to live.
    Being a realist, she had been looking off and on ever since Mrs Wynn had mentioned that her son and his wife were returning to Charleston. Her search, however, had proved futile, and she didn’t suspect that the housing situation was going to change in the next day or two. Probably she would be forced to move in with Steve and Helen temporarily and this she hated to do. She and Helen got along very well, but with two young children to handle, her sister-in-law did not need an indefinite house guest.
    The thought of going back to Florida to live with her mother flashed distastefully through her mind. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Ida, she simply couldn’t put up with the woman’s interference, which had increased to dramatic proportions since her father’s death. For the first year following Ralph Manderly’s death, when Ida wasn’t calling or writing to offer advice to both her daughter and her daughter-in-law, she was visiting them until both Sara and Helen found it nearly impossible to remain civil. In an effort to maintain family harmony, they had finally convinced Ida that she needed to broaden her horizons and that travel was the answer. At the present time Ida was in the Mediterranean on a cruise.
    But it wasn’t only Ida. Sara had fallen in love with Charleston. Its softness, its history, its charm all blended together to produce a special flavour found nowhere else.
    Then there was her art. She had finally begun to gain a reputation locally. Just recently she had convinced one of the more prominent galleries to display her work on a regular basis.
    And then there was her niece and nephew. She would miss them terribly if she left. Her mouth formed a determined line. There were too many reasons to stay. She just couldn’t leave.
    Curiously, with that thought still strong in her mind, Brad Garwood’s face crossed her consciousness. ‘It’s his features,’ she muttered. 'They’re artistically appealing to me.’ Frowning at herself, she attempted to vanquish the disturbing image. But as she began to work the final greens into her painting, his eyes returned to haunt her. A warm glow filled her as she remembered their velvet softness following her near fall. The glow, however, turned to ice as that memory faded and was replaced by his final contemptuous glance as he had left her apartment. Angrily she forced herself to concentrate on her work.
    Finishing the painting, she left it uncovered to dry and curling up on the couch started through the rental listings in the newspaper. Several phone calls later she was feeling totally depressed when a knock sounded on her