My empathy for her reaches a new level. Not only is she hurt and in pain, but she’s reliant on me because her so-called family couldn’t bother to step up. This must absolutely suck for her. I vow then and there to ditch my grouchy side, at least with her, and be whatever she needs me to be. Whatever it takes to get her through this.

“You’re right—it shouldn’t be me. But I’m glad it is. I like being here, doing this for you.”

She perks up slightly. “Really?”

“Truly.”

She smiles at this. “Thanks, Grady.”

“Could be worse. A Lyft driver would’ve been more awkward, right?”

She allows a short smirk and hesitantly rests her right arm on my shoulder.

I move closer, ready to scoop her into my arms. “I can flip a sheep into a catatonic state. I can handle you. If that helps…”

“Oh, Grady, sheep flipping? I bet you say that to all the girls,” she snickers.

I chuckle despite myself. “Sheep flipping. Parasite control. Dehorning calves. I’ve got all the best lines. That’s why you see me with so many women.”

Her laughter rumbles and fills me with rare delight—I’m glad she knows I’m joking. No one in Seagrove has seen me with a woman, regardless of how many have tried. She slips her hand tentatively around my neck. One arm against her back and the other under her knees, I slowly and easily cradle her to me. The initial jolt of going airborne causes a pained gulp, but then, resting her head on my chest, she sighs.

“Okay?”

She manages a smile. “Yes, that’s good.”

I shift her against me, momentarily struck by how much I like her weight in my arms, her long hair dangling over my shoulder, and her inexplicable softness. I take one careful step around The Beast at a time, gauging her expression as a pain indicator.

“My father had a heart attack two years ago,” I say, hoping to distract her. “After heart bypass surgery and six days in the hospital, I drove him home. He had to put a pillow between his chest and the seatbelt.”

“Dang, that would’ve been a good idea,” she winces.

“Here’s what I learned going through that with him,” I continue, taking one step at a time up to her porch. “First, the next forty-eight hours will be the toughest.”

She watches me as I talk, and I like her rapt attention so much that it unnerves me. I stub my foot against the top step, distracted by her. “Um, overexertion makes it worse,” I say quickly. “If it’s not an absolute necessity, leave it. Understood?”

“Yes, doc.”

“Unlock the door.”

She fumbles with the keys but gets the door open.

“Couch or bed?”

“Couch, thanks.”