“No, you can’t handle him right now, but we can. We have no choice. He’s too little to put on a bus alone, and you can’t pass him off to strangers. All he’s got is a mother and she’s out of the country. It’s time you step up to your guardian angel reputation. If a time comes that you can’t keep him with you, then ask him to take care of me. I’ll keep him safe.”

An hour later Hank had made Simon a bed on the small couch, but the boy woke when Hank lifted him from Millie’s side.

Millie offered to read to him until the boy fell asleep so Hank could finally go visit his dad. “It’s time I made it over there,” Hank said. “In fact, time is running out. I don’t know what tomorrow will be like, but I need to make it to the nursing home before lights out.”

She stared at him for a moment, then said softly, “You’re leaving town soon, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t a question. They’d talked about it a few times and both knew their days together were counting down.

“I thought I’d rent a truck to carry the bike and this box back home. If all goes well, and there are no more bombs turning up, Simon and I will leave Monday. My bike’s fixed and I’ve got to get Simon back. You’re on the mend, and with Simon here it complicates everything. I’ll make sure the kid enjoys our road trip.”

Her smile didn’t reach her beautiful blue eyes. “Of course I want you to stay. You’ve been a true friend, but I know it’s time.”

“I’ll call to check on you, Millie. I promise I’ll stop by to see you every time I’m in town.” He lowered Rambo to her lap. “I’ll be back soon. If I hurry, I’ll catch my father before he goes to bed.”

She nodded but looked away. “When you get back from seeing your dad, I’d like to talk to you for a minute.”

“Sure.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. For some reason they’d started kissing each other like old friends, never lovers.

He almost ran from the house. Now it was time to leave, he wanted to hurry, not drag it out. He hated goodbyes. Most of the time he left a woman it was before dawn, while she was still asleep.

The only thing that slowed him now was the fact he was headed toward his father. He never remembered just talking to his father. It was always listening to a lecture, or worse, a sermon.