Serrin bid her good night, even though it was only ten o’clock in the morning, then made his way toward the back bedroom, limping even more than usual. The little room was dark and deliciously cool, furnished simply with a bed, a bedstand, and a chair. Not even bothering to remove his clothes or his boots, Serrin sank gratefully onto the bed, punching the pillow up under his head just the way he liked it. He fell asleep almost instantly, and didn’t wake until five that afternoon—and only then because Julia shook him gently awake to the sight of more freshly brewed coffee on the bedside table. He was halfway through his first cup when she slipped into the bed beside him. Real coffee or not, the other half-cup was instantly forgotten.