Adam pulled open the silverware drawer and withdrew a fistful of forks. “Time to eat,” he said as he tossed them on the counter next to the salmon he’d just extracted from the oven.

It wasn’t fish and chips, but Drew didn’t care. It was food he hadn’t had to make, and his brother had always been exceptionally skilled at making the seafood easily obtained from the docks into something delicious.

Russ took the biggest piece of salmon and spooned the butter lemon sauce over the top. “I can’t believe you can cook like this and you aren’t married.”

“He’s seeing Anita Andrus,” Drew said without thinking. Adam’s growl reminded him that the relationship wasn’t quite public yet. “I mean…” He flashed frantic glances between his brother and Russ, who scooped half the roasted potatoes onto his plate.

“Did you go see Mom and Joel this morning?” he asked, hoping Russ was so enamored with food that hadn’t come from a box that he wouldn’t remember the name Anita Andrus.

“Yeah,” Adam said. “They looked good.” He dished himself some food and headed for the couch a few feet away. His brother had been taking carpentry lessons from Joel, and together they’d remodeled Adam’s house. The once separate living and dining and kitchen area was now one big room, delineated with a rug in the sitting area and a pot rack hanging above the kitchen island. Though it was more open, the house now radiated a kind of warm coziness it hadn’t before.

Outside, the wind rattled something in the yard, and one of Drew’s shepherds barked. He tried to find Blue and Chief, but Adam hadn’t quite gotten to widening the windows and the dogs were nowhere in sight. They were fine. They loved to run and lie in the grass, and Adam’s neighbors had a couple of cats they liked to torment through the fence slats.

Drew joined his brother on the couch. “Food’s great.”

“Did you invite Gretchen and her daughter to the Safety Fair?” Russ asked as he perched on the edge of the recliner to eat.

Drew tried to act like it was no big deal. That he went around inviting everyone he’d ever met to the special guests portion of the upcoming event. “Yeah.”

“Did she say she’d come?”

Why did Russ care? He speared two potatoes and put them both in his mouth. Drew watched him for another half-second, trying to figure out the line of questioning.

“She has a lot of weddings in the spring,” he finally said, echoing what she’d told him.

“I invited that woman from the crosswalk.”

“The hit and run?” Adam asked, glancing up from his food.

“The guy barely bumped her,” Drew said. “She didn’t even lose consciousness.”

“She’s the closest to wounded that I’ve helped,” Russ said.

“You held her elbow while she stepped up into the bus.” Drew shook his head, a smile pulling at his mouth. He understood why Russ would invite her though.

“Yeah, well, she said she might come.”

A thread of unease pulled through Drew. He couldn't be the only one there without a special guest. Of course you can. He’d done it every year before leaving for Medina, and last year after he’d returned to town too.

“Joel says they’ll need help with the lavender harvest this weekend,” Adam said after a beat. “And Mom wants us to come for dinner on Sunday.”

“All right,” Drew agreed without really thinking about what he was committing to. He finished dinner, thanked his brother, got his dogs loaded in the back of his truck, and headed out.

He stopped at Duality before going home, because he was hoping for an hour or two on the couch, Blue and Chief on either side of him while a baseball game blared on the TV. And that required snacks. Maybe one of those baked-then-fried loaded potato skins. He’d collected the food from the eatery and had just picked up a bag of chocolate when his phone shrieked at him.

The candy hit the floor in his haste to answer the after-hours emergency operator. “Drew Herrin,” he said, no wasted words, no wasted time.

“We have a woman with injuries, unconscious, as the Magleby Mansion. Location?”

“Duality,” Drew said, already striding toward the exit. “I’m five minutes away.” So a slight exaggeration, but he could speed on the way up the coast.

“We’re routing a bus,” Trudy said. “It’s twenty minutes out.”

“I have a bag in my truck. Anyone else?” He swung himself into the truck and had it on the road in only moments.

“Dispatch is in calls.”

Which meant the call had gone out simultaneously. He’d see Russ and Adam up at the Mansion for sure. He just wanted to get there first. So he ended his call and focused on his destination.

When he arrived at the Mansion, it wasn’t hard to tell where the victim was. People stood around in a semi-circle, with a woman kneeling on the ground, cradling someone’s head in their lap. Frustration blipped through Drew. They’d already moved the injured person. Never good.

“Paramedics,” he called in a loud voice, soliciting the attention of the handful of people there.

“Drew,” someone breathed. “Thank goodness. It’s Drew Herrin.”

The crowd parted, and Drew saw Mabel Magleby was the one kneeling on the grass. And Gretchen Samuels had her eyes closed, seemingly asleep.

His stride faltered as time stalled for a heartbeat. He had one brief moment to admire her beauty before reason and duty kicked in and he continued forward. Shaking the confusing thoughts of her fair features from his mind, he set his bag on the ground and said, “Tell me what happened.”

“I found her.” Jaime Allcott stepped forward. “She was here to take down her flowers. She sprained her ankle and fell in the hallway before we even started. She seemed fine, and I guess she came to get the ladder. When she didn’t come back, I started to wonder where she’d gone, because she’d left her box and vases inside.”

The ladder now leaned up against the building. Blood was smeared across Gretchen’s face, but her chest rose and fell. Airway seemed normal. “Where was the ladder when you found her?”

She definitely wasn’t alert. “Gretchen?” he said loudly, hoping she’d respond with a twitch, a jerk, or perhaps even wake up. “Gretchen, it’s Drew Herrin. Can you hear me?”

Nothing. No eye flutter. No flinch.

“Jaime?” Drew glanced up. “Where was the ladder?”

Jaime’s feet shuffled. “On top of her. She was on her back. She was already unconscious.”

On top of her. Drew’s chest seized a bit. “How long do you estimate she was missing before you found her?” He picked up her hand and pressed his fingernail against hers. This pain test could help him determine how unconscious she was. A slight pull in her hand as she tried to recoil from the pain.

Good. Better than nothing.

He pulled a stethoscope from his bag and looped it around his neck. “How long, Jaime?” Maybe the man needed to be treated for shock. It could be difficult to find someone passed out, with a ladder on top of them, with the amount of blood she had on her face.

Drew didn’t wait for an answer before putting in the earpieces and listening to her heart. It seemed strong enough—there. He cocked his head and listened again, focusing on a blade of grass haloed in lamplight. A murmur. He wondered if she knew about it, had felt lightheaded at all lately.

If a ladder had fallen on her, she could’ve been knocked unconscious. She could’ve fainted first. She could have multiple fractures or broken bones in her ribs, torso, and legs. He couldn’t assess any of that—a doctor and an x-ray machine was needed.

He only stabilized. Revived. Gave comfort and hope. Oh, and he could deliver a baby.

“Why’d you move her?” He looked at Mabel, who gazed at him with a flash of indignation, but it softened quickly.

“I didn’t want her to be alone.”

Drew understood how she felt, but he couldn’t fathom why. It just didn’t seem fair that someone like Gretchen should have to do anything alone—like lift a ladder. Or come back here at nine o’clock at night to clean up flowers and vases.

“The ambulance is coming,” he said. “I need you to let her lie flat. She could have broken bones if a ladder fell on top of her.”

Mabel seemed to grip Gretchen more tightly.

“It’s okay,” Drew said. “She responded to a pain stimulus. She’s breathing okay and her heart’s beating.” Irregularly, but no one deserved to know that. Her nose was probably broken if the blood on her face was any indication. No matter what, she’d wake up with a hefty headache.

Like a flash of lightning, he thought of her daughter. She’d said earlier that she would put her to bed before coming to take down the flowers. She was probably home alone.

A siren, faint and in the distance, met his ears. He needed to do something about Dixie before he climbed in the bus and took her to the hospital. What had she said her friend’s name was? The one picking Dixie up from school?

He couldn’t remember, and he frowned at himself. “Does anyone know who I can call about Gretchen’s daughter? I think she’s home alone.”

“I can go over there,” Mabel said.

Drew sized up the elderly woman. “Would Dixie know who you are?”

“Janey Germaine,” another woman said. “She and Gretchen are best friends.”

Drew nodded his thanks and stayed at Gretchen’s side. “Gretchen, I’m going to call Janey and have her go get Dixie, okay? Then we’re going to take you to the hospital.” He grinned down at her, something inside him softening at the peaceful expression on her face. Somehow he was able to look past all the blood and the swelling in her nose, and see a gentle soul in Gretchen Samuels he’d never looked for before.

Startled at the softness of his feelings, he leaned back and pulled out his phone. After Trudy answered, he said, “I need the number for Janey Germaine.”

“I’ll connect you. Hold, please.”

Drew sat in the emergency waiting room, his fingers steepled together and his eyes on the gray plastic door in front of him. He’d employed nearly every ounce of patience he possessed, and still the nurse hadn’t come to tell him anything about Gretchen.

Legally, she couldn’t give a diagnosis to him. But seeing as how she had no family over the age of ten, Drew simply couldn’t leave her in the hospital by herself. Unconscious. Alone. Overnight.

No, he wouldn’t do it. Though his eyelids grew heavy, and he’d thought about that loaded potato skin at Duality more than once, he maintained his seat and waited.

He’d probably only been there for a half an hour. Simply checking her vitals, assessing that nose, and ordering the x-rays would take that long. Which meant he should be hearing something very soon.

Someone sat down next to him, smelling like Old Spice and butter. “Janey got Dixie.”

Drew startled at the sound of Adam’s voice. “Oh, that’s great.” His voice raked through his dry throat, but he didn’t dare leave to go get a drink.

“How is she?” Adam asked.

“Still waiting to hear.”

Adam settled his head against the wall and closed his eyes, apparently ready to wait it out with Drew. His brother’s presence comforted him, and Drew finally leaned back in the chair and let his hands fall into his lap.

Five minutes later, a nurse walked through the door. Drew stood, the amount of hope floating through his chest ridiculous. “How is she?” The rest of the waiting room was empty, so Drew knew Roxanne had come about Gretchen.

“She’s awake, which is a great sign.” Roxanne gestured for him to come back. “You two can come back if you’d like. She’s frantic about her daughter, and I told her someone who knew what was going on was here. She wants to see you.”

Drew looked at Adam, who waved for him to go. “I don’t need to come back.”

But Drew did. The craving to reassure Gretchen ate at him, almost an ache in the back of his throat. He couldn’t quite classify it, didn’t understand this pulsating desire to be the one to take care of her. He followed Roxanne through the door and down the halls wide enough to pass two patient beds side-by-side.

“She’s in there.” She gestured him into a room. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”

Drew said, “Thanks, Roxy,” and walked through the doorway.

“Drew,” Gretchen rasped as soon as she saw him. “Where’s Dixie?”

He stepped tentatively into the room, his heart fluttering up near his voice box when he saw the neck brace, the temporary wrist cast, and the gauze across her nose and cheeks.

“I called Janey, and she went to get her.” He edged closer to the bed, a strange inkling to reach for and hold Gretchen’s hand. His fingers twitched in that direction, but he pulled them into a tight fist. “Do you remember what happened?”

Always the EMT, he watched her struggle to find the memories, sort through them, and put them in order. “It’s okay if you can’t,” he said quickly. “You were unconscious for quite a while.”

“I was at the Magleby Mansion.”

“That’s right,” he said, hoping to encourage her, keep her talking.

“I needed to get the ladder to take down the rose wreath. It was really heavy. I dropped it on my foot.” She shuddered as if she could still feel the pain. But her speech slurred along the edges, and he knew she’d been given some heavy painkillers.

“That’s all I remember.” Her eyes drifted closed, but she jerked them open again.

“A ladder fell on top of you,” he said gently. “It looks like they’ve got your wrist in a splint, and they’ve taken care of your broken nose. They’re concerned about your neck, thus the brace.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and Drew shut his mouth. “You feeling okay?” He reached out and touched her arm, thinking maybe she just needed human contact. She turned her arm, and his fingers slid down to hers.

“You’re going to be fine,” he said in his best paramedic voice. Soothing and soft, but firm and authoritative. “Do you need me to call a nurse to get you something?”

She gave one shake of her head, closed her eyes so that a single tear tracked down her face, and squeezed his fingers.

And Drew thought maybe he was the one who needed the human contact. He certainly liked holding Gretchen’s hand far more than he liked Chief nosing his fingers.