“Then let’s go.” Hannah took the dog outside for a two-minute walk. “Do you mind if I leave the dog here? She’s not destructive.”

“Not at all.” He lifted his keys from a rack on the wall.

In five minutes they were on the road headed for the local hospital. The fifteen-minute drive seemed much longer. One woman in uniform and Brody sat in the ER waiting room. Hannah’s stride faltered as she took in the bloodstains on Brody’s clothes. He’d taken off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves, but Hannah could still see that his cuffs were stained rusty brown. His gray suit pants were bloody at the knees. A square of gauze was taped to his forehead.

“Are you all right?” She touched his cheek.

He put his hand over hers. “I’m fine. It’s barely a scratch. Two stitches.”

“How is he?” Chet asked.

Brody didn’t take his eyes off Hannah as he answered. “They’re stabilizing him here and medevacing him to the trauma center in Albany.”

“Lance is a fighter,” Chet said.

Another man motioned to Chet, and he crossed the room to sit in a plastic chair next to him. The low murmur of muted conversation followed.

Hannah took Brody’s hand and led him into the hallway. She stepped closer, until they were toe-to-toe, and ran her hands up his arms, over his shoulders, to his chest. His heart beat under her palm. Sliding her arms around his waist, she pulled him close and leaned her head against his chest.

She reveled in the movement of his chest beneath her face. Every breath that passed in and out of his lungs reinforced the fact that he was alive.

People she cared about tended to end up dead.

Brody tried to back away. “I’m covered in blood.”

She tightened the grip of her arms. She would have waded through a river of blood to touch him. “I thought you were dead.”

His arms folded around her. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “Not your fault. You were doing your job. Do you have to go back to work?”

He shook his head. “Not right now. I’m going home to change and shower. Come with me?”

“I brought Chet here.”

Chet waved her off. “I’ll get a ride home. Go.”

Hannah went out to the truck and followed Brody back into town. They stopped at Chet’s and picked up the dog. Brody parked in front of a large three-story house on a quiet side street near the business district. By the time they arrived, rain was falling. She got out of the pickup. The sky opened up, soaking her to the skin in seconds. They ran up the walk onto the porch.