An hour later she woke and said she had to go to the bathroom. He had no doubt he turned redder than she did. Without a word, he lifted her gently and carried her to the bathroom. He set her down with her hospital gown draping her in front. Then he closed the door and prayed she could handle the rest.

When he heard her say his name, he opened the door and waited.

She grabbed his arm and pulled herself to stand on her good leg.

He moved his free arm down her back, over her hips and lifted her. The sight of her bare back and hips reminded him once more of her slim perfection.

It crossed his mind that the hit he took to his head might have made him see women differently.

Without looking at him, she thanked him, then added as he put her back on the bed, “My gown doesn’t cover my backside. Would you mind getting me my robe?”

He placed the pillows around her. Tears were flowing again, but she didn’t complain. “Don’t worry about it, Millie. I’ve seen a thousand butts. When I was working cattle, the back side of them was pretty much all I saw every day.”

She let out a little squeal that he wasn’t sure was a cry or a laugh.

“Sorry. That didn’t come out right. Your bottom isn’t anything like a cow’s.” If he didn’t shut up, he’d be the one blushing before long. “Yours is real nice, I mean. Not that I looked.”

The next sound was definitely a laugh. “Under the circumstances, how about we simply be honest with one another? No flattering to make me feel better.”

“All right. I’ll stay honest, since I’m a knight. Only the truth. You are a pretty lady, and you have a pretty backside.”

Millie met his gaze. “And you, Sir Knight, are blind.”

Hank winked. “Nicest thing I’ve ever been called.” Suddenly, despite the accident and the fact they were strangers, she made him feel young, not almost forty. He hadn’t felt young for a long time. In his twenties he’d lived hard and fast on the rodeo circuit. When he turned twenty-eight and was still riding bulls, he was considered old in the game. He’d known it was time to get out, so, thanks to a friend, he’d switched his occupation to the oil fields. Then he’d studied nights and weekends to become a specialist, an expert at something, even if it was considered one of the most dangerous occupations around.

From fighting oil fires and handling explosives, he moved to the police force and prepared for one of the most challenging teams. The bomb squad.