Tuesday found the bathroom and the first-aid kit under the sink. She also found a stack of clean towels and went to work. This wasn’t the first wounded drunk she’d taped up and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

First his forehead. Cleaning, closing wounds with strips of tape, then wrapping gauze around his sandy hair that held not a wave or curl. When she’d first gotten out of high school, she’d wanted to study to be a nurse. She’d even worked at the little hospital near campus and taken a few classes.

This guy reminded her of a practice dummy in the nursing lab. Only he was twice as big, four times heavier, and smelled of beer and blood.

When she checked his elbow, his flesh was almost scraped raw. She put cream on it and wrapped it up. It wasn’t a professional job, but it would keep one wound from getting infected. No bones felt broken, but if he moved his arm he might start bleeding again.

Last, she had to pull off his boots and jeans to get to his knee. This one part of his body was not hurt as badly as she’d thought it might be. Not one wound but a series of scrapes running up his hairy leg.

As she worked, she noticed his socks didn’t match. Tuesday smiled. If she’d known him better, she would tease him about that. Here was a man who keeps an organized house and yet couldn’t match his socks.

He moaned now and then but never opened his eyes as she used a handful of Band-Aids.

Tuesday wondered what she was doing here with a stranger. She didn’t owe him all this. She could have just left him once he was inside. If he was too drunk to take care of himself that wasn’t her problem.

But Ketch seemed more like a lost knight without his armor than a drunk.

He’d tried to help her in the parking lot, he’d been polite in a bar where most just leered at her, and he seemed totally unaware of how hot he was. All three of the blondes at Wynn’s table had studied him like he was a class assignment.

Maybe all he needed for once was a guardian angel. He’d lost his North Star.

It took her half an hour to clean up all the scrapes and bumps. When she covered him with a sheet, she decided he’d live to drink another day.

As she stood to leave, she wished he’d open his eyes just once. When she’d first seen him, she sensed a loss and sorrow in his light blue eyes so deep it might never wash away. For just a moment she thought she’d met a kindred soul.