She grinned. “I can’t afford a car. They break down. They have to have gas. It’s not feasible.”

“Cabs run,” he reminded her.

“So do limousines. Same difference.”

She was making a point that he understood. She couldn’t afford cabs.

“Cal offered to bring me back and forth to work when his office moved, but I wouldn’t let him. It’s an imposition,” she explained.

The idea of Hollister wanting to protect her made him uncomfortable, and he didn’t know why. Her predicament seemed to be without any sort of resolution. He scowled, because it bothered him. She looked so fragile.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll come to work tomorrow...”

“You will not,” he said. “Or I’ll set fire to your desk and let you explain it to the lieutenant.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she returned indignantly.

He pursed his chiseled lips and his black eyes twinkled. “You don’t know me, kid,” he replied. “There isn’t much I won’t dare.”

“I’ll stay home for two days. The medicine will be working by then.”

“Your lungs will be dicey for a few weeks. That’s a bacterial pneumonia, not walking pneumonia.” He’d had that from the doctor himself.

“How do you know that they’ll be dicey?” she wanted to know.

“I had pneumonia once, a few years ago,” he said solemnly. “It laid me flat out for a week. I was even in the hospital for a few days. I haven’t forgotten the recovery period.”

One side of her pretty bow mouth pulled down. “I have it every year. Believe me, I know about the recovery period.”

“Every year?” he asked, surprised.

“Nobody knows why. I avoid sick people, I take vitamin C, I do all I can to stay healthy. Nothing seems to work.” She stared at his spotless white shirt. “Cal protected me, when I worked for him. I was out a lot before I got the new medicines. He wouldn’t let them fire me. They probably should have.” She sighed, wincing when it hurt. “I’m not...robust.”

“No. But you’re efficient. You don’t goof off, you don’t complain about working overtime if you have to, you don’t even fuss when I make coffee.”

She looked up into soft black eyes. “You make terrible coffee.”

He smiled. “I know.”

She clutched the bag of medicine. “Well...”

“What about your brother?” he asked suddenly. “Don’t you walk by the school to pick him up?”

She nodded. “I’ll ask Cal,” she said. “He won’t mind dropping Tad off. Where we live is on his way home anyway. He has a ranch down near Comanche Wells,” she said.

“I know. I live in Jacobs County, too.”

She hadn’t known that. “Cal runs purebred Angus cattle.”

He cocked his head and his eyes narrowed. “You know a lot about him.”