Page 11 of Midnight Clear

And then Sophie opened the door and walked right into Hank.

He brought his hands up and put them on her shoulders to steady her. “Whoa, there,” he said.

“I’m not a horse,” Sophie said.

She didn’t remember him being so tall. She was having to look up way too far to meet his gaze.

“Of course not,” he agreed. “I was hoping to catch you on your way out. I owe you a meal.” Then he stopped to look at her, his eyes narrowing. “Or maybe not. You don’t look so good.”

“Nice,” Sophie said. “Just what a woman wants to hear.”

He brought his ungloved hand up to her forehead and she leaned against him, his icy skin welcome against her face.

“I think you’ve got a fever,” he said.

“Does that mean you think I’m hot?” she murmured under her breath, trying her best to move around him. “Why are you so big?” She poked him in the chest. “Your chest is really hard.”

“I think you’re delirious,” he said. “I’ve got my truck parked out back. Why don’t I give you a ride home?”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Cori said, pushing Sophie into Hank’s arms. “And don’t come in tomorrow. We’ve got things covered.”

Sophie was too tired to argue. Hank put his arm around her shoulder and guided her down the sidewalk to the end of the street.

“People gonna talk,” she said, but leaned against him. “My mother is going to call.”

He chuckled and she felt the vibration in his chest. It was nice.

“Don’t worry. Mine will too.”

By the time they made it to his truck Hank could feel the heat of her fever through his clothes. He hoisted her into the cab and buckled her seat belt, and he realized she was out cold. Her face was pale, and her body seemed smaller and more fragile than usual. He closed the cab door, but she didn’t stir, and he hurried around to the driver’s side and got in.

It was a short drive to Sophie’s house. Winter Street was in the older part of town, and since downtown was closed to car traffic, he turned the opposite direction and then went a block out of the way before turning back toward Sophie’s house.

The polish of the downtown businesses faded as he drove through the old part of Laurel Valley, and snow-covered fir trees and Craftsman style houses replaced them. He pulled in front of a neat white house with a small porch and a roof that sagged under the snow. There was a short black iron fence around the postage stamp-sized front yard and there were black shutters on each side of the front windows.

He could shore up the porch roof for her easily enough, and he made a mental note to do so as he went to get her out of the truck. She hardly stirred when he picked her up in his arms, but she did cuddle in close once she was there. She looked…softer while she slept. More delicate. But he knew she was anything but. He’d seen her strength that morning. No wonder she was sick and exhausted. That kind of fortitude was a heavy burden to carry around by yourself.

He pushed the black gate open with his knee and it squeaked loud enough for the neighbors down the street to hear. He’d add that to his list as well. She stirred in his arms and he instinctively held her closer. But she pushed against him so she could see his face. What he saw made his lips twitch.

“What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously.

“Carrying you so you don’t fall down,” he said.

“I can walk,” she said. “I’m a grown woman.”

“Uh-huh,” he agreed. She didn’t look like she had the strength to hold the weight of her hair up, much less her whole body. “I called my brother on the way over. He’s going to come see you in a few minutes. But my diagnosis is you have the flu.”

“Ridiculous,” she said. “It’s three weeks until Christmas. I can’t have the flu.”

“I’m not sure what one has to do with the other, but maybe you could tell me how to get in your front door.”

“Oh,” she said, trying to think. “My brain is fuzzy. I keep an extra key behind the porch light.”

“That seems safe,” Hank said, shaking his head in wonder. This woman needed a keeper.

He adjusted her in his arms and reached behind the porch light to pull out a single key, and then he stuck it in the dead bolt and turned it easily.

“This is Laurel Valley,” she said. “It’s always safe. And no one even knows it’s there. Except you.” Her brow furrowed. “Maybe I do need to find another hiding place.”

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