and hurried over to where they were. “Mrs. Townsend is going to get help at the hospital. They’ll take good care of her there, I promise.”
Abby looked up. “What’s wrong with her?”
Lacy shook her head. “I’m not sure, honey. I’m sure everything will be okay. Right now, I’m going to call your dad to come get you.”
“He’s at work,” Willow said. “That’s why we were with Mrs. Townsend.”
“I know, honey. But he won’t mind leaving the farm for a little bit. Follow me to the counter. I have some cookies up there.”
The girls’ eyes lit up, even as tears dripped from their eyelashes.
“I can call Granger while you take care of the girls,” Paris offered.
How did Paris know that these sweet little children belonged to Granger Fields? As if hearing her thoughts, he explained, “I did some graphic design work on the Merry Mountain Farms website recently.”
“Of course. That would be great,” Lacy said, her voice sounding shaky. And she’d do her best to calm down in the meantime too.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Granger Fields left the library with his little girls in tow, and Lacy plopped down on her stool behind the counter. The other patrons had emptied out of the library as well, and it was two minutes until closing time.
“Eventful afternoon,” Paris said.
Lacy startled as he walked into view. She hadn’t realized he was still here. “You were great with the CPR. You might have a second career as a paramedic.”
He shook his head. “I took a class in college, but I’ll stick to computers, thanks.”
“And I’ll stick to books. My entire body is still trembling.”
Paris’s dark brows stitched together. “I can take you home if you’re not up for driving.”
“On your bike?” she asked. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t help my nerves at all.”
Paris chuckled. “Not a fan of motorcycles, huh?”
“I’ve never been on one, and I don’t plan to start this evening. It’s time to close, and my plans include calling the hospital to check on Mrs. Townsend and then going home, changing into my PJs, and soothing my nerves with ice cream.”
Paris leaned against her counter. “While you were with the girls, I called a friend I know who works at Sweetwater Memorial. She checked on things for me and just texted me an update.” He held up his cell phone. “Mrs. Townsend is stable but being admitted so they can watch her over the next forty-eight hours.”
Lacy blew out a breath. “That’s really good news. For a moment there, she looked like she might die. If we hadn’t gone over to her when we did, she might have just passed away in her sleep.” Lacy wasn’t sure she would’ve felt as safe in her little library ever again if that had happened.
“Life is fragile,” Paris said. “Something like this definitely puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?”
“It really does.” Her worries and fears suddenly seemed so silly and so small.
Paris straightened from the counter and tugged his bag higher on his shoulder. “See you tomorrow,” he said as he headed out of the library.
She watched him go and then set about to turning off all the lights. She grabbed her things and locked up behind her as she left, noticing Paris and his motorcycle beside her car in the parking lot.
“If I didn’t know you were a nice guy, I might be a little scared by the fact that you’re waiting beside my car in an empty parking lot.”
“I’m harmless.” He hugged his helmet against him. “You looked a little rattled in there. I wanted to make sure you got home safely. I’ll follow you.”
Lacy folded her arms over her chest. “Maybe I don’t want you to know where I live.”
“The end of Pine Cone Lane. This is a small town, and I get around with business.”
“I see. Well, you don’t need to follow me home. Really, I’m fine.”
“I’d feel better if I did.”
Lacy held out her arms. “Suit yourself. Good night, Paris.” She stepped inside her vehicle, closed the door behind her, and cranked her engine. It rolled and flopped. She turned the key again. This time it didn’t even roll. “Crap.” This day just kept getting better.
After a few more attempts, Paris tapped on her driver’s side window.
She opened the door. “The battery is dead. I think I left my lights on this morning.” It’d been raining, and she’d had them on to navigate through the storm. She’d forgotten her umbrella, so she’d turned off her engine, gotten out of her car,