“Interesting,” Maggie said. “Had a woman come to the ER with a cell phone stuck in a very private place. The whole time the doctor was trying to get it out, it kept on buzzing. Her ringtone playing ‘Turn Down for What.’ I bet you don’t know that song.”

“Is it by Waylon or Willie?”

“Lil Jon.”

“Then probably not,” Quinn said.

“Probably sounded better when it’s not coming out of the woman’s privates,” she said. “Not exactly a Bluetooth speaker.”

Quinn held up his hand as Maggie stood in the doorway, dressed in light green hospital scrubs and clutching a bottle of wine from the new package store off the Square. She set the bottle down on the coffee table, where he and Brandon had been watching Red River. Quinn had felt part of his education was to make his new son fully versed in both classic movies and books. At night, he’d been reading him White Fang before Brandon went to sleep. The shelves in the study and Quinn and Maggie’s bedroom sagged with paperbacks and old hardcovers: hunting and fishing books, classic novels, adventure and frontier stories, and thick books on Greek myths and plays. Quinn loved Homer about as much as he did Louis L’Amour.

“You want another beer?” Maggie said, nodding to the Coors can on the table.

Quinn shook his head, Brandon engrossed in the scene where Montgomery Clift helps out Joanne Dru while being attacked by Indians. “You’re shooting too high, aim lower,” Clift tells her from behind a wagon.

“Dinner’s in the oven,” Quinn said. “I picked up some fried chicken at Annie’s. There’s some greens and cornbread in the refrigerator I can heat up.”

Maggie disappeared and Quinn followed her into the kitchen. He was still dressed in his uniform shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and crisp dark Levi’s, but had left his boots on the front porch and locked away his sidearm. A can of Coors came flying from Maggie and Quinn caught it in midair as she forked out some greens into a bowl.

“Sometimes I think we have a competition to see who’s had a stranger day,” Maggie said, setting the bowl in the microwave. “One day you have a crackhead dragging his butt down Highway 9 and other days I have a patient who’s stuck a toilet plunger up his backside. Kind of makes me wonder who in the world are we trying to help.”

“Protect and serve,” Quinn said. “Hearts and minds.”

“I still hear the Lil Jon song in my head,” Maggie said, pulling her long reddish hair into a ponytail. “Good God. I can’t get it out.”

Quinn whistled the theme to Red River. “That woman had to be embarrassed as hell.”

“If she was, she sure didn’t show it,” Maggie said. “Just kind of annoyed her boyfriend kept on calling her, knowing the damn thing was stuck.”