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couldn’t see him any longer. She was left looking at the now-docile mutt.
    “If I lift, can you get out?”
    “I think so.” The cramped quarters suddenly seemed to squeeze tighter and Maggie’s heart raced. She sneezed again and instantly the dog began wailing.
    “Okay,” Tru called over the noise. “Ready?”
    “Oh, boy, am I.” It was all she could do not to start wailing right along with the pooch.
    The bed lifted and blessed relief washed over her. She didn’t hesitate—oh, no, she did not—the instant she could move, she belly-crawled out of there almost faster than the fat, floppy-eared hound.
    With a backward glare, the beast let out another long yowl, as if warning her it would like to bite her again. Maggie gave it an I-just-dare-you glare and it ducked around the edge of the door and out of sight.
    Blessed silence remained.
    “Baby,” the bewildered man called and shuffled after the dog.
    Tru stooped beside her and before she could stop him he’d taken her hand in his—just like in the interview. Instant heat spread from his touch, licking through her like a wildfire.
    She frowned. If it hadn’t been for him taking her hand during the interview, they wouldn’t be in this fix.
    “Let me look at that,” he said, seeming not to notice that she wasn’t exactly thrilled that he was touching her.
    Maggie tried to ignore the way his touch affected her. His eyes narrowed—as if he felt the jolt too. And at that thought Maggie’s heart tripped over itself. She looked away. She had forgotten exactly what it felt like to look into those intense golden eyes.
    “Come on, let’s get you in the kitchen and clean this up.” He helped her to her feet then led her down the hall and into the kitchen.
    She fought the urge to pull away. This reaction to him was not going to help her situation.
    He took her over to the sink and turned on the water, testing it for warmth before thrusting her wound beneath.
    Her breath caught the instant the warm water hit the wound. She winced and bit her lip.
    “Sorry.” Tru looked down at her, so close she could see the gilded specks in his irises that caught the light from the window like stardust. “This is bad, Maggie. I’m really sorry about Solomon. He’s old and not the best-behaved dog. But he’s crazy about my Pops and Pops is crazy about him. He senses when Pop is having a bad day and it just makes him act weird.”
    “I shouldn’t have climbed under there,” she said, finally, glad her voice sounded almost normal. “I should have been more careful. It wasn’t like I didn’t know he was in distress.”
    “It was probably pretty intense. My Pops is in the early stages of Alzheimer’s.” Bone-deep sadness filled Tru’s eyes. He looked away and focused on her hand.
    She felt for him.
    Tru pulled her arm from the water and reached into the drawer at his knee and pulled out a blue dish towel. Gently he toweled off the water, then wrapped her arm.
    “We need to take you to the clinic and have Bertha look at this. Have you had your tetanus shot?”
    Pops wandered in and looked over Tru’s shoulder at her like a little boy checking out something cool.
    “Yes, I have.” It hurt like the dickens, but she didn’t want to put anyone out or make Pops feel bad, though the doctor really sounded like a good idea. “I’m fine, I’ll just wrap it in gauze.”
    “Nope, you’re going to the clinic. Come with me.” He led the way through the house to the front door with Pops trailing. “Pops, stay here, Bo will be here in a minute.” Tru’s heart was heavy with the knowledge that his Pops was getting worse and they might be to the point that he would no longer be able to stay by himself, even though he and his brothers lived so close. Closing the door, he pulled his phone from its holster and punched a speed-dial number.
    “Bo,” he said. “We’ve had a little accident at Pops’s. Solomon took a bite out of Maggie, and Pops needs you up here. He was a