“Hey, hey,” Rory urged, guiding Goldie back to the bed. “Where you going, sunshine?”

      “My locket,” Goldie explained, squeezing her eyes shut to stop the stars flashing through her brain. “I…I think I lost it.”

      He gazed down at her. She looked so young and innocent, lying there devoid of makeup. Her hair wasn’t exactly blond, more burnished and gold than a true blond. It shimmered like silky threads against her cheeks while the square patch of gauze just over her hairline shined starkly white. The frown on her face only made her look more like a lost little girl than a determined woman.

      “I remember your locket. You were wearing it last night. At least, I saw it when I turned you over on the couch.”

      “I was?” She sat up again. “Maybe I lost it at your house.”

      “I’ll look when I get home,” he said. Because this woman had disrupted his life to the point that he was worried about her and what she meant to him as a man, he asked, “So what’s the deal with that pretty locket, anyway?”

      She looked away, toward the window. “My daddy gave it to me before he went to war during Desert Storm. It has a picture of me and him inside it. He never made it home.”

      “Oh, wow.” Rory felt bad for being so nosy. “I’m sure sorry to hear that. No wonder it means so much to you.”

      “It does and it’s very old. It belonged to his great-great-grandmother. And my grandmother gave it to him to give to me on my twelfth birthday. It’s kind of a tradition in our family. Grammy says good things happen to the women who wear that locket. So far, that hasn’t exactly been the case with me.”

      Rory hadn’t pegged her for being traditional nor for feeling sorry for herself, but under the circumstances, he could certainly understand why she looked so down. And he could sympathize with her need to find the piece of jewelry. “I’ll look over the house and in the yard, too. I’ll get the boys to help.”

      “I’d appreciate that.” She stared at the ceiling. “I’ve made such a mess of things. Wrecking my car, losing my necklace. I need to get my life together somehow.”

      Rory could tell she was fighting back tears. “Listen, your car might be fixable and…well, we’ll probably find your locket. Just be glad you’re okay. That wreck could have been much worse.”

      She looked over at him, her smile bittersweet. “I guess I am acting a little over-the-top. And you’re right. I’m still here and Grammy needs me. It’s just that was one of the few things my daddy ever gave me. My parents were divorced so I didn’t get to see him much.”

      “That’s a shame,” Rory replied. “I’m blessed that my parents had a great marriage. My mom’s a widow now, but I had a pretty good childhood. Nothing major—just lots of good memories.”

      She smiled again. “Yes, you are blessed. I’ve never had that. We transferred all over while my dad was alive and in the army, then my mother moved us around a lot after the divorce. Grammy was the one who kept me grounded and safe, even if she and my mother don’t always see eye to eye.”

      “And where’s your mother now? Should I call her?”

      She shook her head. “No. That’s okay. I’ll give her an update when she checks on us. She’s traveling overseas, one of those long tours with a bunch of her friends—a big Christmas extravaganza. Angela likes to travel and she rarely calls home.”

      Rory thought her daughter did not like that arrangement. In spite of her pretty curls and her soft smile, he sensed loneliness in Goldie. And he wondered how long she’d been searching for a safe place to lay her head. “Hey, let’s get you home to your grandmother. She’s told me she’s got a big pot of homemade chicken soup simmering on the stove just for you. And fresh-baked corn bread to go with it.”

      “Grammy’s answer to anything is chicken soup,” Goldie said. “And she makes the best. She puts homemade dumplings in there.”

      “I take it you like her cooking,” Rory replied, grinning.

      “I like food, period.” She laughed then grimaced. “And if I stay with her much longer, I won’t be able to fit into any of my clothes.”

      Rory thought Goldie looked just perfect, but he refrained from making such a flirtatious comment since they didn’t really know each other. Yet.

      Then he told himself not to even think along those lines. He had enough to keep him busy, what with the boys, his mother and his work and, well, a man got lonely just like a woman did, he reasoned.

      But he didn’t need to think about that right now.

      “Has the doctor been by?” he asked, suddenly ready to get out of here.

      Goldie waved toward the hallway. “Yes. I’m sorry, I guess you’re ready. I was waiting on the nurse. She’s checking around for my locket.”

      “Oh, okay.” He tapped his knuckles on the food tray. “Got everything else together?”

      “Yes. One of Grammy’s friends brought me this change of clothes. I sent your poinsettia home with her.”

      He noticed she was wearing a sweater and some wide-legged sweatpants. “I could have brought that. I didn’t even think about clothes.”

      “You’ve done more than enough,” Goldie said. “Besides, I think Grammy sent Phyllis to check on me and bring back a thorough report. And if I know my grandmother and Phyllis, they probably tag-teamed my doctor to get the whole story on my injuries.”

      “Are you sure you’re up to going home?”

      “Oh, yes, I’m ready to get into my own bed.” She lifted up. “Let’s go to the desk and see where that nurse is.”

      Rory helped her. “Are you still dizzy?”

      “No. I think I just got up too quickly before. And we’re not telling the nurse about that little episode. It wasn’t the awful dizziness I had after the wreck. I have work to do and I need to get back to it.”

      “Oh, I don’t think you need to worry about work. It’s the weekend.”

      “I have a deadline,” she explained. “I write a syndicated advice column. It’s mostly