“Aw, it was nothin’,” he replied, ticking Bailey’s nose with his finger. “Always glad to lend a lady a hand.”
“You’re a hero,” the girl informed him. “Like Superman.”
“Well, now, that’s kinda cool.”
“Yes, it is,” Heather agreed, “but right now, I think we should get you both taken care of.”
“I’m fine,” Josh assured her. When she nodded at his left hand, he looked down to see that the nice, neat wrapping was now filthy and shredded into several pieces. “Huh. How ’bout that?”
Tired and half-drowned, the three of them crossed the church to where Doc Sheppard was using one of the front pews as a makeshift office. He gave Josh a proud smile, then turned his attention to Bailey. “And what brings you by to see me, young lady?”
“My arm hurts. And I like grape lollipops.”
“I see you’ve been talking to Josh.” The grandfatherly man chuckled as he examined her arm. “He’s one of my best customers, you know.”
While he chatted with Bailey and assessed her injuries, Heather glanced over at Josh and gave him a sweet smile that warmed him from his dripping hair to his waterlogged boots. He didn’t want to ruin one of the antique oak pews, so he braced his back against the wall and slid down to sit on the carpet runner that stretched the length of the side aisle to wait for his turn with the doctor.
What a day, he mused, taking advantage of the relative calm to close his eyes. Right now, that plan of watching TV that Doc had mentioned was sounding pretty good to him.
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