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in Fort Worth until the next sunny, dry day. I wouldn't think of risking my life or anyone else's by driving in this ice storm."
    She paused and drew in a shuddering breath.
    "You're" right, you didn't ask for my help, but
    I felt I owed you this much, to get you safely home to your family where you can properly recuperate."
    She doubled up her fist and shook it at him. "But by God, the least you could do is shut up and stop your infernal bellyaching!"
    "… still don't think we should wake him up. If he didn't wake up when we came barging in, as much noise as we were making, he needs this sleep."
    Marcie, with both arms curled around loaded supermarket sacks, paused outside the door of Chase's apartment. Through it, she could hear voices.
    "But how else are we going to find out how he got here, Mother? And how do we know how many of those pills he's taken? That could be the reason he's sleeping like a dead man."
    "Lucky, relax," a third voice said, "the pill bottle was almost full. He couldn't have taken many. Laurie's right. For the time being, he's better off asleep."
    "That's a wicked-looking bandage around his chest," Laurie Tyler said. "Obviously he needs bed rest.
    We can wait until he wakes up on his own to find out who brought him home."
    "Probably his current squeeze," Lucky muttered.
    Marcie had heard enough. She managed to grip the doorknob and turn it, staggering inside under the weight of the grocery sacks.
    Three heads came around to gape at her with astonishment.
    "Ms. Johns!"
    "Hello, Mrs. Tyler."
    She was flattered that Laurie Tyler knew her. Though she'd been in Chase's class all through school, they hadn't had the same circle of friends. Following her release from the hospital, Marcie had considered going to see
    Laurie and apologizing for Tanya's death. She had ultimately decided against it, thinking that it would be a difficult meeting each of them could do without.
    "Lucky, take those sacks from her," Laurie ordered, shoving her dumbfounded younger son forward.
    "Marcie, what the hell are you doing here?"
    Lucky relieved her of the grocery sacks and set them on the bar, which separated the small kitchen from the living area of the apartment.
    Marcie dropped her purse and keys into a chair littered with unopened mail and discarded articles of clothing that had lain there long enough to collect dust. "Let me assure you, I'm not Chase's current squeeze," she remarked as she shrugged off her coat.
    Lucky looked chagrined, but only momentarily.
    "I'm sorry you overheard that, but what's going on? We've had his landlord here on the lookout for him.
    He was to notify us when and if Chase turned up. He called about half an hour ago and said he'd seen lights on in the apartment although Chase's truck wasn't here. We rushed over and found Chase alone and dead to the world."
    "And bandaged," Devon added. "Is he seriously hurt?"
    "He's certainly uncomfortable, but the injury isn't serious. He got stamped on by a bull at the rodeo in Fort Worth last night."
    Marcie told them about the accident and how she had happened to be there. She avoided telling them that she had spent the night in his hospital room. She had been away from him only long enough to return to the hotel where she was checked in, shower, change clothes, and pack, then drive to the coliseum to pick up his belongings.
    "This morning, when I returned to the hospital, he was terrorizing the nursing staff. He refused to be shaved. A bed bath was out of the question. He insisted on leaving."
    "He's crazy!"
    Devon shot her husband a withering glance.
    "As if you'd be a more cooperative patient. I
    can see you submitting to a bed bath." Turning her attention back to Marcie, she asked,
    "Did he just walk out?"
    "He would have, but I called the doctor. He got there in the nick of time. He examined Chase and recommended that he stay in the hospital for a few days. When he realized that he'd as well argue with a brick wall, he signed a release form.
    "I