She lowered her head between her shoulders and sipped her coffee. "Too hot, Jim. Watch out," she mumbled.

"To tell you the truth, I'm really not in the mood for coffee today. I think the pain pills have my stomach messed up. I'm not feeling too good."

"Is it broke?" she asked, obviously referring to his ankle. She shook her head again as if amazed.

"No, but really close to it, as the doctor on duty told me. The nurse had me thinking it was worse than what it really was. This young doctor saw me after lunch and told me I could leave if I take it easy for about six weeks and use the crutch. He looked like he was right out of high school."

"How did you do it?"

Jim leaned back on the soft cushion of the sofa and slowly told her everything that had happened since he had last seen her. He told her about finding the dual tracks and being held at gunpoint. He told her about being in the barn and hanging from the pole. He left out no detail and spared no opinion on the response time of the sheriff.

"You know," Lucy said, "the paper did call."

"What paper?"

"Southern Journal. It's a regional paper."

He began to sip his coffee. Still not all that ready to eat anything, but when something smelled this good he had to taste it. "For me?"