Chapter 35

Especially not at a moment like this. A man that sat as Henry did, with an expression of unadulterated grief on his face and his hands not just clasped but fisted over his wife’s thinner, weaker ones, was the kind of man that would not be shooed away without repercussions.

“Mary,” Henry’s tone was reverent. “I’m so sorry.”

She opened her eyes, lashes flickering wildly, and focused. “Henry. Oh, and Randy. You all didn’t need to come. Lyle was here.”

“And thank God he was,” Randy said, inching closer to the bed. “What happened?”