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we?”
    “The office of Doctor Charles Rayburn,” he replied. “A long-time friend.”
    She touched the bandage on her left shoulder. “How did he do on the patch job?”
    “Not bad, considering he’s a general practitioner, not a surgeon. The bullet went clear through, so he didn’t have to dig it out. Made things a lot easier.”
    Jesse pulled back the sheet which covered her to the waist. The right leg of her jeans had become cut-offs. Taped gauze encircled her right thigh and shin. “How bad was it?”
    “Looks worse than it is. Only seventeen stitches.” He shook his head. “You’ve got nine lives, Jesse.”
    Yeah, and she’d used up half of them. “Why didn’t he call the police?”
    Cole shrugged. “He’s doing me a favor.”
    “He must owe you.”
    “He’s an old family friend. Now I owe him, big time.”
    Jesse laughed, grimacing at the jar to her head. “We’re not in Texas, are we?”
    “Upper Westchester County, New York.”
    “Upper Westchester? Where in upper Westchester?”
    “Pleasantville.”
    “Where’s the doctor?” she asked.
    “He got an emergency call from the hospital.”
    “How did you get me here?”
    “The Starfire.”
    The tall Texan didn’t look the type to commit grand theft auto. “No car of your own?” she asked.
    “I have a rental, but took the train into the city. I’m visiting a friend.”
    This was getting complicated. “What friend?”
    “A Navy buddy.”
    “You’re an officer?” she asked.
    “Was. A Lieutenant. I worked as an aid.”
    That explained his lack of fighting skills. Surprising, considering his size—though he had handled the shooter well. “And you were lucky enough to be walking down Seventh Avenue last night. What were you doing there?”
    “Liberty-versus-Indiana.” His grin went lopsided, and she startled at the jump in her pulse. “I went to the game at Madison Square Garden,” he added.
    “And you didn’t catch the subway from Penn Station?”
    Cole looked sheepish. “It’s hotter in the bowels of New York City than the worst day in Dallas.”
    “So you decided to walk from Midtown to…” She raised a questioning brow.
    “Grand Central.”
    “You’d rather face the thugs who walk above ground then the heat below?”
    His blue eyes locked with hers. “What were you doing there?”
    “The thugs above ground don’t bother me,” she replied.
    “That doesn’t answer my question.”
    “I don’t care for crowds.”
    “What were you doing in that alley to begin with?”
    She snorted. “Being stupid.”
    He gave her a you got that right look, then said, “You could have left me there.” His tone suggested that’s what he had expected.
    Jesse started to demand an explanation, then realized he’d probably heard how New Yorkers weren’t the neighborly sort like those from his home state. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes against the dull ache radiating from her shoulder. Whatever the doctor had given her for pain had nearly worn off.
    “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry. Has this doctor of yours got anything to eat around here?”
    He gave no immediate response and she started to open her eyes when something cold and wet touched her hand. She recoiled, her eyes snapping open. “What the—” A beast of a dog, a German shepherd, nuzzled her hand.
    “That’s quite a compliment,” Cole said, rubbing the dog above its collar. “Lancelot doesn’t like just anyone.”
    “He’s magnificent.” Jesse buried her fingers in the plush black fur on the back of his neck.
    A fierce intelligence gleamed through the canine’s dark eyes. She was instantly captivated. He regarded her with a calm, self-assured manner which said he understood her infatuation and would tolerate it.
    “Is he yours?” Jesse asked.
    “No. He belongs to Charlie.”
    She paused in her massage of Lancelot’s neck and looked up to find Cole staring.
    “What were you doing in New York?” he asked.
    A strange tremor