Hank carefully walked up the path with her right side resting against his chest. He didn’t want to bump her braces or her left arm. She was lighter than he’d thought she’d be and he could feel her heart racing. In a strange way she was his, or maybe more accurately, he was hers.

There was an easy feeling between them, almost familiar, almost comfortable, almost loving.

He’d accidentally run over a fragile bird and the thought of what he’d done hurt deep inside of him. For once in his life he planned to correct the damage he’d caused.

One of the EMTs followed them into a tidy little house with the walls lined in books. The ambulance driver brought in equipment. Harrison stood in the center of the room, holding her as she told the two men where to put everything.

Her voice grew a bit stronger now, but he could almost feel her strength melting in his arms.

He turned his face toward hers, almost touching her ear. “I need to put you down, pretty lady. That all right with you? Bed or couch?”

“Bed,” the EMT answered for Millie. “The nurse gave her something to help her make the trip. She’ll sleep for a while.”

Hank didn’t move. “Your call, Millie.”

“Take me to bed, dear knight.” She smiled a tight little smile, as if she were teasing him. “Rambo is probably hiding under there. He’s afraid of crowds.”

Hank followed instructions, thinking there were other ways he could have taken that order “take me to bed” if she’d been pretty much any other woman. But the librarian wasn’t his type, and he’d bet she had no idea how to flirt. Plus, if he made a pass, Rambo would attack his shoelaces again.

When he picked up a woman, usually at a bar, she’d be curvy, definitely big chested, and probably blonde; not tall, thin, and bookish. In fact, he could never remember talking about books with any of his midnight dates.

Within a few minutes, Amelia Remington was in bed with her leg atop pillows and her left arm banked with a soft throw. Hank dug around under the bed until the pup bit his finger, then he pulled Rambo out, took him outside for a few minutes, and finally put him beside Millie.

The little hairy rat seemed to sense her pain. Rambo curled up next to her hand and began to lick her fingers.

As the men left, Harrison leaned down close to her as he carefully brushed her hair from her face. “Will you be all right for an hour? I need to go get a car, pick up some groceries, get your prescriptions, and check out of my motel.”

She looked exhausted. “Where will you sleep?”

“On your couch. I’m on guard duty in this tiny castle of yours.”

Millie didn’t argue. She was already asleep.