“You have to try to look ahead, not behind,” she said quietly. “I know it’s hard. I don’t manage it very well, either.”

“Banks mentioned those broken ribs. He was fishing, but I didn’t bite,” he added quietly. “That’s your business.”

“Thanks.”

“You need a car. Or a car pool,” he added when she gave him a sardonic look over her soupspoon. “Doesn’t anyone around here work near you? Somebody you could ride with?”

“The Martins live two doors down. They’re both disabled. I go with them to church on Sundays so I can push Mr. Martin in his wheelchair,” she said. “Of the other close neighbors, one grows marijuana in his bathtub and the other entertains men at night.”

He whistled.

“I know, you’re a lawman and marijuana is...”

“I was thinking of the smell.”

Her eyebrows arched.

“If he grows it in his tub, he must stink like crazy.”

She burst out laughing, almost spilled her soup and had to put it down to hold the pillow to her chest in a burst of coughing.

“Damn. Sorry,” he said through gritted teeth.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks. “It was...worth it,” she choked. “He probably does, too. Stink, I mean.”

He grinned.

She finished her soup. “I’m so tired. I felt sorry for Mr. Banks. He stayed at the hospital the whole time, until I was ready to leave. I didn’t expect him to wait for me.”

“Oh, Banks is a gentleman,” he said with a lazy smile. “His mother was very old-fashioned. She took both the kids to church and took privileges away from them for cussing or talking back or being rude.”

“She must have been a nice woman.”

“She was,” he replied. “She lived with her sister on a ranch near mine. The old lady died last year, so Banks and his sister own the place now. It’s not too far from Comanche Wells. He commutes, like I do.”

“Does he have cattle?” she asked, curious.

He nodded. “A few head of black baldies and some horses,” he said. “He doesn’t plan on ranching as a profession, but he likes animals. There’s a big cat, too. She lives indoors.”

“Mr. Banks has a cat?” she asked.

“A big, red Maine Coon cat,” he chuckled, “that he calls Miss Kitty.”

“Well!”

He smiled. “His sister dates one of my detectives,” he said. “She loves her brother. Talks about him all the time.”

“She’s nice. We go to the same church. I guess she lives with her brother.”

“She has an apartment in town,” he corrected. “Banks is hard going as a housemate, to hear her tell it. She did most of the cleaning because he kept threatening to shoot the vacuum cleaner.”

She laughed. “He threatens to shoot the printer at work, too.”