“Until then, I’m near.” For a moment he thought he saw the little girl in the woman. A blink of fear in her eyes a moment before she straightened.

Damn, the lady was in a bad place if he was the one she turned to.

The nurse finished her checklist. “That’s a good friend you’ve got, Miss Remington.”

She smiled. “Best one I’ve ever had.”

Hank winked at the librarian and he could have sworn she was blushing beneath the bruises.

Chapter 9 - Ketch

Chapter 9

Ketch

The church bells were ringing as Ketch drove toward Tuesday’s place. For once he had a day off, and it wasn’t because of rain. No work to finish up and no papers due, thanks to spring break. He’d loaded down his truck with tools and enough lumber to keep him busy. He wanted to pay Tuesday back. The least he could do was fix her porch.

The day might be sunny, but the last half-mile to her place was still muddy. She’d been right about the unpaved road being protection. Her great-grandparents’ place wasn’t easy to find or get close to. He drove over prairie grass to keep from making the ruts deeper.

Ketch unloaded and went to work. A half hour later, Tuesday leaned out the front door, wearing nothing but his army T-shirt, knotted at her waist, and pink panties. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Fixing your porch before it falls down on you.”

“Oh,” she said and closed the door.

Ten minutes later, she appeared still dressed in his T-shirt, but the panties were covered by shorts. Her hair was combed and her smile came easy. “Morning, Ketch.”

Then, without a word, she walked out to him and gave him a quick hug. “Go away. I don’t need any help.”

He shook his head. “Not till you feed me. You said yesterday you liked to cook. Well, cook or feed me leftovers. I’m here to earn a meal.” He turned back to the saw he’d set up on the solid wing of the porch. “This project is going to take a while.”

“What do you want?”

“Food. Real food that doesn’t come in a frozen box or a take-out bag. Prove it. Cook me something. I grew up on cafeteria lunches and army grub. I’m not hard to please.”

She turned around and headed back in as he added in a whisper, “Your legs are longer than I thought they’d be, kid.”

Two hours passed before she returned with a tablecloth and real napkins.

He’d taken his shirt off and had sawdust all over his chest. When she walked past him, he raised an eyebrow. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was checking him out.

She stopped at the door and turned back. “It’s Sunday. When company comes on Sunday, I set the table proper.”