Richard slid one arm beneath her knees and the other across her back and rose with her.

She weighed less than the sack of feed he’d hauled out to the truck on Thursday.

Emily’s hand caught the front of his jacket and clung to it.

“He kept asking me where I put it,” she said into the wool.

“The whole morning he kept asking.”

Ethan’s face shifted by a single muscle.

“Let’s not turn this into a production.

I can have our doctor over here in fifteen minutes.”