Lindsey popped open the metal first aid kit. It had disinfectant wipes, rolls of gauze and assorted bandages. It would do until Robbie got the wound dressed by a professional.

She glanced at his arm. What remained of his sleeve needed to be rolled up, so she tentatively began to fold back the shirt.

The bottom of a tattoo appeared, and curious, Lindsey pushed the fabric up a bit more so she could see it. It was a stylized sun done in reds and yellows with a blue outline. In the center of the sun was a date: 10-23-95.

“Nice tattoo,” she said.

“It marks the most significant day of my life,” he said, “although I didn’t know it at the time.”

Lindsey remembered Nancy’s lighthouse tattoo and she felt her throat get tight. What was it Charlie had said? A person’s tattoos could give insight into the most important events of his life?

“Sometimes dates are like that,” she said. “You don’t know it’s important until later.”

“Indeed,” Robbie agreed. “Sort of like September fourteenth of this year.”

Lindsey looked at him. “What happened on that day?”

“I met you.”

His gaze met and held hers, and Lindsey felt her pulse pound in her ears. She wasn’t ready. She couldn’t feel that way about someone yet. And he was so far out of her league. Her thoughts chased each other around in her head until she couldn’t think.

She glanced down at his cut, breaking the moment.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” she said.

He didn’t answer, and she glanced up to make certain he heard her. Their faces were just inches apart.

“You won’t,” he said.

Lindsey blew out a breath and took the wadded-up fabric off of his cut. She then reached into the kit and took out the alcohol wipes.

“This is probably going to sting,” she said.

The cut was a clean slice and probably it was going to require stitches, but the worst of the bleeding seemed to be over.

Lindsey shook out one of the wipes and gently dabbed at the cut. Robbie sucked in a breath through his teeth and she cringed, knowing it was going to get worse before it got better.

She held his arm still with one hand and ran the cloth over the cut with the other. She felt his muscles bunch beneath her fingers, and he let loose a string of mild curses while he kicked at the floor with one of his feet.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Lindsey said. “I know it hurts. Just one more pass and it’ll be good, I think.”

She swabbed the cut one last time and Robbie let out a shout.

“Are you all right?” she asked. “Is there anything I can do?”