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a kiss that, while lacking in strength, made up for it in tenderness. |
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"Oh, Abby," he murmured as their mouths separated. "My little wagon train traveler. How I love you." |
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And then he pulled her close once more. |
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Soon his breathing grew more even; he was asleep. Abby slowly drew away so as not to awaken him. |
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That night, kind nurses overlooked the rules to permit Abby to stay with him. By the following afternoon, the hospital was ready to release him. Hannah came, and together Abby and she brought Mike home. |
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They installed Mike back in his bedroom. The trip home had exhausted him. He didn't even protest much when the women did not let him go upstairs to see the progress on the fire repairs but instead promised to nap before dinner. |
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First, though, he insisted that Abby sit beside him as he lay in bed on top of the covers, still dressed in the clothes Hannah had brought him to wear home: blue jeans and a black, clinging T-shirt that revealed his contoursincluding the bulge of the bandage at his shoulder. |
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His large hand held Abby's, and she clasped it tightly, absorbing its warmth, memorizing the comforting grasp of his fingers, the roughness of callused palms. |
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He smiled up at her, his gray eyes alluring in their sleepy, seductive droop. "You know what worried me more than anything?" |
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