“Dad?” Ryan had found his father in the living room, slumped in his favorite chair, eyes closed, with his favorite show playing on the television and a book splayed across his chest.

His father gave a start.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Ryan crouched beside the chair, switched off the television, and placed a hand on his father’s arm. “How are you feeling?”

He propped himself upright using his good arm and cast a sluggish gaze around the room. “What time is it?”

“It’s nearly six.”

“Have you”—he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, looking confused—“been out? Have you been in town?”

“No, Dad, I’ve been out on the trails. We had a booking today.”

“Oh. How many?”

“Just one—a girl. She’s visiting from Portland.”

“Right. Good.” His eyes were heavy.

“Have you eaten? Have you had anything since lunch?”

The question went unanswered. Whether his father was slipping back to sleep or taking an inordinately long time to question his own stomach, Ryan couldn’t be sure.

“Why don’t you go and lie down? I’m going to drive our visitor back to town. I won’t be long. Have a snooze, and then when I get back I’ll fix us something for dinner. I’ll fry a steak, boil up some potatoes—how does that sound?” The suggestion was greeted with a lazy nod of the head. “All right, let’s get you into bed.”

Ryan helped his father to his feet and walked him to his room. Conscious not to keep Amy waiting, he hurried through the rest of the goodbye, kissing his father on the forehead and drawing the curtains shut.

Amy’s face brightened at his return.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Just fine,” he answered, climbing inside the truck. “Thanks for waiting.”

“No problem. It’s you I should be thanking for driving me back.”

“More than happy to.”

He shut his door and slipped the key into the ignition, but his attempt to turn on the engine was greeted with a whiny revving sound followed by a mechanical splutter and cough.

Amy threw him a worried look. “Out of gas or something?”

“No, nothing like that,” he said as he gave the dash a pat. “She’ll start. Sometimes she just needs a little encouragement.” He looked over and pointed to Amy’s open window. “Some friendly advice, though—best you wind that up.”