“You still wanting a gallon of wine straight into a vein?”

“Maybe even two gallons,” she replied.

“I’ll meet you at your place, then. With wine. My treat.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“We’re friends. That’s what friends do at times like this.”

* * *

En route to Flagg’s Market, Wyatt asked himself what the hell he thought he was doing. Being around Erin kept him on edge and filled him with yearnings he shouldn’t allow himself to have. But he had agreed to be her friend, and, damn it, she’d just quit her job. He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around that. He’d known she was considering a change of profession, but he had expected her to prepare for that before she cut her losses. She had monthly bills, and they wouldn’t stop coming just because she had no income. And how could she hope to attend college in Crystal Falls to pursue another career without a job to cover her expenses?

When he pulled into the driveway that led to her cottage, he saw Erin in the wash of the high beams, sitting on the porch. Wyatt’s concern for her mounted when she didn’t glance up at the sound of his truck. He grabbed the two bottles of wine that lay beside him on the seat and exited the vehicle. When she still didn’t look up, he strode to the steps, scaled them in one leap, and went into her house in search of a corkscrew and glasses. He’d never been inside her place. It reminded him of her, with practical furnishings and very few doodads to clutter up surfaces. Even so, it felt homey and looked nice. Of course, his idea of decorating was to put a bootjack by the door, hang his hat on a hook, and thumbtack a calendar to the wall. And now that he had a cell phone, sometimes he didn’t bother with the calendar.

Moments later when he joined her on the porch with two glasses of wine, he turned the outside lights on as he crossed the threshold. After handing her a goblet, he sat beside her on the step.

“What in God’s name was I thinking?” she asked him. “I just quit my job!”

She was shaky as she took a swallow of the chardonnay, and Wyatt wished he could hear her voice. He had a feeling it would be shrill and tremulous. He chose not to field her question. He knew precisely what she’d been thinking when she turned in her badge, and it was probably a decision long overdue. But she hadn’t stopped to think about all the repercussions she would face after she did it.

She suddenly burst into tears. Wyatt couldn’t hear her sobs, but he could see every jerk of her slender body. Feeling helpless, he shifted his glass into his left hand and curled his right arm around her shoulders. She pressed her face against his shirt. Each time she spoke, he felt the vibrations, but he couldn’t tell what she said.