They were still laughing when Ketch walked her to her steps. Tuesday thought he should buy Bull a hat to wear. After all, all spies have a fedora.

She made it two steps before she turned to kiss him good night. As he pulled her closer, the kiss deepened. Then she pulled away and touched his shoulders. “Good night.” She smiled. “You do know I love you, Ketch.”

Before he could react she was gone.

He stood, staring at the closed door.

She loved him? But her kiss had been just a friend kiss . . . hadn’t it?

When the light went out downstairs he knew Tuesday was climbing the stairs. Without him.

Friend kiss, definitely.

Ketch walked to his truck with swear words bouncing around in his mind. Part of him wanted to rush in and make love to her, and part of him wasn’t sure he could take the fall if he guessed wrong about loving again.

“Damn,” he said as he started the truck. “I might as well buy the guard hat and stumble around the hospital foyer like I know what I’m doing.” Life was no more real to him than it was to Bull.

Chapter 30 - Hank

Chapter 30

Hank

Saturday

In his craziest days Harrison Norton, the preacher’s son, the champion bull rider, the roughneck, and a well-known bomb expert, never thought he’d be sitting in Clifton Bend, Texas, counting cars go by.

“Was that eight or nine, Rambo?”

The dog opened his eyes and looked up at Hank. He was obviously not interested in counting.

“You’re right, Rambo. I’m cracking up.” Hank picked up the dog in one arm and headed in to check on Millie. The order of supplies and gear he’d called in wouldn’t get to town any sooner just because Hank was waiting.

He’d been in Clifton Bend for two weeks and still hadn’t visited his dad. Millie didn’t really need him anymore. She was getting around fine. No one had seen a bomb for three days, so that crisis had settled down as well.

So, what was he still doing here?

Hank told himself he was worried about the bomber, but he knew the real reason was simply that something wasn’t finished between Millie and him. Maybe it was just saying goodbye, but he wasn’t ready to say the words.

The kind lady had become his obsession somehow. Half of his brain seemed to have taken up worrying about her. He worried about how she was doing, if she was in pain, if she liked him. Part of him wanted her as a man wants a woman. Another part swore he’d break his own arm if he hurt her.

Hell, his actions were digressing all the way back to middle school while his thoughts were dreaming of midnight rodeo.