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Shade was peering out the open window of the van, standing on the passenger seat, tail wagging so hard his whole back end curved with it.

“Happy to see you, too,” Tyler said, settling into the driver’s seat. “How do you manage to remain so enthusiastic?”

Shade briefly nuzzled him, then sat watching him.

Tyler sighed. “I’ll try to improve my attitude. I’m not sure why I find that so difficult lately.” He started the van. “We have another stop, by the way.”

Shade seemed undaunted.

It was just before midnight when he approached the open door of Ron Parker’s hospice room, but the visiting hours here were not restricted. Although Harry Williams had passed along the message saying he should come here-his second visit today-he was uneasy about the thought of waking Ron, who to all appearances was dying from leukemia. After all, the message had been to check on Ron, not to talk to him.

So he walked quietly into Ron’s room. Just past the doorway, he was brought up short by the sight of another visitor.

A slender, dark-haired woman sat in a chair pulled close to the left side of the bed. She was young, perhaps in her early twenties, probably Ron’s age or very nearly. Her face was in shadow, her head bent and mostly curtained by her hair as she read a paperback by the light of a small clip-on book lamp. As he watched, she managed to turn a page using only her left hand, the hand that held the book. Her right hand gently held one of Ron’s hands as he slept.

Was she Ron’s girlfriend? He was certain that Ron wasn’t married. Ron’s late grandfather, Derek Parker, whom Tyler had befriended, had not mentioned that his grandson had a fiancée or any other attachments. When Tyler had spoken to Ron on other occasions, including today, they had discussed many things, and there was no word of a girlfriend.

And yet, what he saw here was a picture of solace and faithfulness. Ron was asleep, might well be for the night, and still she stayed with him. Kept hold of his hand so that if he should wake, he would know he was not alone.

She looked up suddenly and, startled by Tyler’s presence, dropped the book and book lamp with it. The little light broke as the book went tumbling beneath the bed. She bent to retrieve it even as Tyler moved closer, ready to offer help. Ron woke up, looked around blearily, and used the control on his bed to bring the room lights up.

Even to Tyler, who had stood next to many deathbeds, Ron bore the appearance of someone in the final stages of leukemia. He was thin, his cheeks hollow. He had lost all his hair after his last round of chemo. His skin was dry and pale, except for the places, here and there, where he had dark splotches of bruising caused by the disease. His eyes, however, revealed a man still part of the world around him, however tenuous his hold on it might be.

“Amanda, are you okay?” Ron asked drowsily.

The young woman quickly straightened, rapping her head on the bottom of the rolling tray near the bed. The tray rattled, but nothing spilled. She winced and rubbed at her crown.

“Fine,” she said, blushing. Tyler could see her face now-lovely brown eyes, made no less so by the small scar near one brow. Her nose was straight and her lips full. Her face was not delicate enough to be called pretty, nor beautiful by current standards, standards Tyler didn’t particularly admire. An attractive woman. And Ron’s, he reminded himself sternly.

“Tyler!” Ron said, noticing him for the first time. “Hey, man-come on in!”

Amanda’s expression changed-Tyler was surprised to see her eyeing him with hostility. Did she blame him for the mishap?

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said. “I’m Tyler Hawthorne.” He extended a hand.

“Amanda Clarke,” she said, going along with the handshake but ending it as quickly as possible.

“Amanda, Tyler’s your new neighbor. I was telling you about him earlier.”

“Yes,” she said. “Umm-an odd hour for a visit, isn’t it?”

“Is it? You tell me.”

Ron looked between them. “Amanda-it’s fine. Hell, one minute you’re complaining that my so-called friends have deserted me, and the next you’re driving them off. Have a seat, Tyler. What brings you out at this hour?”

Tyler gestured for Amanda to be seated before he took the empty chair on the opposite side of the bed. “I’m often awake late at night. I was in the neighborhood, and-well, I thought I’d just look in on you, give you a little company if you were awake, not disturb you if you were asleep.”

“Appreciate it. I never know when I’m going to be asleep or awake lately.”

Tyler turned to Amanda. “Ron said we’re neighbors-”

“Yes. I own the house just below yours.”

“You own…?”

“Yes, I own it. I’ve owned it for about eight years, since my parents died in a car accident. It was in trust until a few years ago, of course.”

“Sorry-I just didn’t realize my neighbor was so young.”

Ron laughed. “Dude, you’re not so old yourself.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

“You aren’t the only one who’s surprised,” Amanda said. “Ron said you bought his house-I guess I should say, his grandfather’s house. I was expecting a friend of Derek’s to be older.”

“Oh, you know how Derek was,” Ron said, giving her a quelling look. “He liked being around people who were younger than he was. He never let me call him Grandfather, Tyler. I suppose he told you that.”

Tyler smiled. “Yes, he did.”

“How did you meet Derek?” Amanda asked.

Tyler looked across the bed at her, saw the suspicion in her eyes. “I was interested in some antiques he was selling. We got to know each other.”

“And you saw a chance to get a bargain on a house being sold by an old man in financial trouble.”

“Amanda!” Ron said sharply. “You’re embarrassing me, you know?”

She blushed again. “Forgive me.”

Ron took her hand. “It’s okay, but you’ve got it all wrong anyway. Tyler, don’t mind Amanda, she’s kind of protective of me. It’s none of your business, Amanda, but Tyler not only paid a generous price for the house, he bought a lot of Derek’s stuff, too. So if it weren’t for him, I’d have inherited a load of debt.” He paused. “I think Derek had his first heart attack because he was so worried about money.”

“And losing you,” she said softly.

Ron shook his head. “No, he never thought I’d live past sixteen, when I first came to live with him. So everything since has been a bonus. He thought he’d outlive me and I’d die never knowing he ended up broke. Tyler, you kept his last weeks of life from being miserable with worry, and for that, I’m grateful.”

“It worked out well for everyone, although I wish Derek could have been with us longer.”

“Me, too. I miss him.”

They fell silent.

Tyler began to feel a familiar combination of weariness and warmth-an unpleasant warmth, the sign of the beginning of the fever. He hadn’t escaped it after all. He would have to excuse himself soon, but he wished he could somehow smooth things over with Amanda, if for no other reason than the fact that they would live next door to each other for the next few years.

Ron yawned. “Sorry, I think I’m headed down for the count again. Thanks for coming by, you two. Amanda, go home and get some sleep, okay?”

She frowned. “I don’t mind staying-”

“I know. But you’re tired. I can tell.” He turned to Tyler. “Make sure she gets to her car safely, okay?”

“Now who’s being protective?” Amanda said. “But I would appreciate it.”

“My pleasure,” Tyler said. “Good night, Ron.”

As soon as they were out of earshot of Ron’s room, she turned to him and said, “I don’t need an escort to my car. I just wanted a chance to tell you that I think you’re the cruelest son of a bitch I’ve ever met in my life.”