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“Rutgar missed the top step, fell and slid to the bottom. Tried to catch himself with his foot on the post down here.” Ben turned his back to Rutgar and lowered his voice, although the gathered volunteers had no qualms closing ranks to hear better. “He needs an X-ray of his ankle. He says his head hurts and when Mandy tried to get him to stand, he vomited. He might have a concussion.”

“I’ll take him to the hospital,” Nate offered, despite wanting to get back to Julie and Duke.

“I can drive him.” Flynn joined them. “I know you’ve got things to do.” The new dad raised an eyebrow, daring Nate to contradict him.

Nate did nonetheless. “Are you sure? What about Becca and Ian?”

“How long can it take?” Flynn shrugged.

Hours, but Nate wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Rutgar was more demanding than a toddler in the terrible-two stage. “I’ll send folks back down the hill so you can get your truck in.”

Nate walked toward the road, stopping at each car to convey the basics—that Rutgar had fallen and needed nonemergency medical care. Slowly, cars began to wend their way back downhill.

A classic blue Cadillac convertible swung wide around the switchback, nearly driving the faded green Buick that carried the town council off the road.

Nate flagged down the Caddy driver, who nearly ran him over before stopping in the middle of Rutgar’s driveway. “Lilac, you aren’t supposed to be behind the wheel.”

Lilac blinked behind her large tortoiseshell sunglasses and flung the end of her maroon paisley scarf over one shoulder before answering coyly, “Is that you, Sheriff?”

“If you can’t tell it’s me,” Nate said stiffly, “you shouldn’t be driving.”

“Pfft.” Lilac waved a beringed hand. “No one has twenty-twenty vision anymore.”

“Just those who drive legally,” Nate muttered. And then he added in a loud voice in case Lilac hadn’t put in her hearing aids, “There’s nothing to see here. Go home and park your car in the driveway.” Where he could see it on his rounds and know she wasn’t being a menace on the roads.

Lilac lifted her nose in the air. “Doris says I should be able to drive wherever and whenever I want.”

Annoyance pounded in his temples and threatened to flatten what little patience he had left. “The agreement you made after nearly killing Chad Healy was you’d only drive in an emergency.”

“There’s an emergency here.” Lilac let her foot off the brake and the Caddy lurched forward.

“Stop!” Nate slapped a hand on a blue bubble fender. “They’re going to be taking Rutgar to the hospital any minute. I need the driveway free of vehicles.” He’d cleared it enough to get Flynn’s truck in a few minutes before her arrival.

Lilac pouted. “I didn’t even get to see.”

“There’s nothing to see.” And he doubted she could make out the details if she stood on Rutgar’s steps next to him. “Rutgar may have sprained an ankle. No blood. No bone.”

“How did he fall? And when? And...” She pursed her lips. “Never mind. I’ll find the juice in the phone tree.” She put the car in Reverse, and then stared up at him with renewed interest. “So you’re a father?”

“Yes.” He snapped, as if the fact annoyed him, when it was Lilac who’d gotten under his skin.

After helping Lilac make a ten-point turn, Nate returned to the house to help load Rutgar into Flynn’s truck. It took both Nate and Gage to get him moving with a shoulder under each arm. Even then, when the big man staggered, all three men nearly stumbled.

“Wait,” Rutgar said when Nate tried to shut the truck door.

“I found it!” Ben hurried down the front stairs carrying a small red pillow with a cupcake silk-screened on it. Not exactly what one expected a fireman to rescue.

“Don’t judge a man by his pillow.” Without opening his eyes, Rutgar tucked the pillow beneath his back. “Jessica gave me this.”

“Jessica, who owns Martin’s Bakery?” Nate asked with a straight face. “Recently married?” Forty years or so Rutgar’s junior.

“There’s no other Jessica in town,” Rutgar huffed. “Do you know how hard it is to find a good woman? And then Duffy beat me to the punch. You’ve got to be quick when you find The One.”

Nate thought about Julie. She’d make someone The Perfect One. She was the kind of woman you went slow with. Not that Nate planned on going for Julie at all.

Nate closed the truck door and watched Flynn drive away. Only then did he notice the shot-up cans on the fence posts. It looked like Rutgar was holding target practice. Nate hadn’t seen cans set up like that in a long time.

Dad had driven far on Nate’s eighth birthday.