“Do you have to go into work, Millie? It’s Sunday and we already went in for a few hours yesterday. I worry that you’re pushing it. Can’t you wait a few more days?”

She smiled at him. “Dr. Monroe is expecting the research. It won’t take me more than a few hours.” She moved slowly toward him. “If you’ll help, I’ll take you out to dinner. Someplace we can go into and sit down, not just pick up a bag.”

“You got it, pretty lady.” He slowly moved his hand around her waist and guided her as she limped along on one crutch. “Only, I’m paying.”

Millie shook her head. “But you have to pay to fix your bike, and I’ve kept you from working this week.”

“Don’t worry about it.” It was past time he told her about his job, but it meant something to him that she liked him, even though she thought he was a bum.

“And while you’re lining up all the papers you want me to copy for the professor, I’m going to go have coffee with that friend of mine.”

“I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave.” She moved toward the door. “But if you need more time to talk to your friend, I won’t mind waiting.”

Sometimes Hank just wanted to hug Millie. Any other woman would be giving him a timeline or warning him that he’d better not be late.

But not the librarian.

In his rodeo days there had been a revolving door of women. At some point he’d just started calling them all “honey.” It was easier than trying to keep up with names. Millie would never be a “honey.”

When he started working on oil rigs, most of which were offshore out in the Gulf, he’d decided to take a few online classes. Before long he’d picked up a degree. When the chance came to get into fire control and explosives with the oil company, Hank jumped at it. He’d found something exciting and dangerous with twice the pay. When he’d learned the Houston Police Department had an opening in the bomb squad, he went for it. It took him a few years to learn, but finally he felt he was where he belonged.

He loved his job, but it wasn’t something he could talk about to people outside of law enforcement. People wanted to hear the exciting parts but didn’t care about the science that went into the work, or the times when the good guys didn’t win.

He couldn’t imagine Millie, gentle as she was, being interested or understanding what it meant to him.

Hank picked up Millie’s bag. Rambo was smart enough to know they were leaving and started whining.