She waited and I went in. When I came out, I wanted to look for the slumpy person. Was it Digger? The nurse asked if I’d had more bleeding and I told her no. She seemed happy about that and we retraced our steps, but there was no sign of the slumpy person. Inside my dark room, a woman was sitting in my guest chair. I gasped, because for a split second, I thought . . .

“Ruth?” I said, and the person stood up. Shorter than Ruth.

The nurse switched on the light.

“Sorry to scare you dear,” said Vera.

“Oh my God.” I sighed, and the nurse helped me into bed again.

“And Sam’s here, too,” said Vera. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Who?” I said.

“From the Blue Anchor. The kind soul who caught you.”

“He’s here?” I pulled up my covers and the nurse adjusted my tubes.

“He wanted to make sure you were okay. Very sweet,” said Vera.

As if on cue, a tall, handsome guy walked into the room, and I instantly recognized him. “You’re the bartender,” I said.

“Guilty.” He raised one hand and bowed his head briefly. “I’m Sam.” He had warm brown eyes and dimples. A nice build, definitely strong. Maybe a few years older than me.

“This young man knew to bring you here,” said Vera.

“St. Mary’s has the bigger ER,” he said. “And I think it’s better.”

“Thank you so much,” I said, suddenly self-conscious. My lips were dry, and I licked them.

“I was glad I could help,” said Sam.

“But you didn’t need to come.” I looked around for a pitcher of water.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked, helping me look, then pouring me a cup.

I took a sip. “I feel . . . good,” I said, surprised at my own words.

“They probably gave you something to help with that,” he said, smiling at me. His laugh was gentle, and there was a twinkle in his eye. I smiled back, wondering where that twinkle came from, or maybe I was imagining it.

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” I said, wondering what I looked like. I wished I could have fixed myself up a bit.

“I’m going to find the ladies’ room. I’ll be back,” said Vera, moving toward the door. “Sam rode in the ambulance with you,” she added before leaving.

“You did?” I asked. Wow, this guy was going above and beyond.

He nodded. “I’m training to be an EMT, so those guys know me.”

“Oh,” I said. Maybe that explained why he was so comfortable. “You’ll be good at it.”

“Thanks,” he said, looking down. His hair was a rich brown, loose and wavy.

“Bartending probably helps, too. In dealing with all sorts of people,” I said. “And situations.”

“Yes, it does,” he said, smiling and nodding. This guy smiled a lot. I liked it.