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going to do with the man? She smiled and slid her nightgown over one shoulder at a time until it floated to the floor. After so many knee injuries, she’d given up wearing slacks, opting instead for loose-fitting skirts and long-waisted dresses that were easy to put on and take off. Choosing a soft T-shirt dress of deep blue, she pulled it over her head, thrust one crutch under her arm, gritted her teeth, and headed barefoot for the kitchen.
    At the base of the stairs she paused, waiting for the spasms of pain to subside. Bright sunshine filtered through the bay window overlooking thegarden. Warming on the stove was a dented aluminum pot of freshly perked coffee. There was a slice of melon on a small plate in the refrigerator. Breakfast had been prepared by her cook, whether she wanted it or not.
    Allison filled a coffee cup with the aromatic dark liquid, drank it quickly, and filled the cup again. Her gentle giant seemed to have vanished. By taking small steps, she was able to carry her cup, push open the sliding glass door that led to the old brick patio, and step outside. The morning sun was bright, the outside bricks pleasantly warm under her bare feet.
    Leaning heavily against the backs of the wicker patio furniture, she swung her body around until she could sit on the chaise lounge. By then she was trembling with exhaustion. She lifted her bad leg, stretched out on the faded cotton cushions, and closed her eyes.
    Years of rigid training had conditioned her body, but her muscle tone had deteriorated during the months she’d spent in and out of the hospital. Despite physical therapy, even a small amount of movement was exhausting. For more than an hour she simply lay there, soaking up the sun and napping, knowing that she ought to make some effort to replace the medication she had foolishly thrown away. The muscle spasms from her trip down the stairs earlier had proven to her that she wasn’t ready to do without medication yet. But the sun was warm; the garden was peaceful. Except for the absence of her grandmother, Allison knew she’d made the right decision by leaving the hospital.
    An area between the house and the gazebo hadbeen cleared, she noticed. Beyond that the famous Josey gardens had grown into a riot of tangled vines. The rose garden was almost totally choked by the deadly but sweet-smelling honeysuckle.
    Allison felt a pang of guilt sweep over her as she realized the burden her grandmother must have faced. Everything had become too much for Gran, yet she’d never complained. Allison’s last two visits home had been during the winter, and she hadn’t realized the neglect. Shabby now, the great house was no longer the showplace of Pretty Springs. But it was home, and she understood Joker’s attraction to the place.
    She should have taken more interest in the place before her grandmother had fallen and been moved to a nursing home. Now everything was different. How on earth was she going to be able to stretch her funds to cover her own expenses and help pay for the repairs needed to keep the property?
    There had been insurance to cover most of her hospital bills, but she wished she’d saved more of her earnings. She’d put money into her account, but there was always someplace new that Mark wanted to go or something he needed, and she’d never refused him anything. Once she’d checked herself out of the hospital, her only thought had been to come home. She had never considered the possibility that her home would be changed.
    For now she wouldn’t worry. It was enough to lie in the sun without pain. She didn’t want to move. Even the roar of machinery in the distance didn’t rouse her. Street traffic was so much a part of the pattern of her everyday life in the city that she neverheard the motorcycle that sputtered to a stop behind the house.
    “Wake up, my sleeping beauty. Your chariot awaits.”
    Allison’s eyes opened drowsily. He was back; Eric the Red was kneeling beside her. But this morning