"Hello," he whispered.

Tess offered him a weak smile, reaching up to place a kiss on his forehead.

"Good morning."

"GOOD MORNING.".

Jack opened his eyes and realized Ellen stood over him. The skin on his

forehead tingled, and he wondered if perhaps she had kissed him.

Or had it been Tess? It was only a dream, you idiot.

"Hi." His voice came out a croak, and he coughed to clear his throat.

His second attempt was more successful. "Good morning." The headache had

lost its cutting edge during the night, but still remained in the backof his head like a guilty memory. He glanced past her at the feeble rayof daylight streaming through the window.

"Did I lose another day?"

She nodded.

"I'm afraid so. How do you feel?"

"Better, I think. How's the weather?"

68 A Killer Smile A Killer Smile She shrugged.

"It's snowing, what else?" She dipped a clean washcloth in the pot,

wrung it out and handed it to him.

"Here. Are you hungry?"

After making it to a seated position, he wiped his face, then his hands.

"I guess."

"You ought to be. You've slept almost around the clock."

He pressed a damp palm to his forehead.

"I don't feel as hot, as feverish."

"I woke you up several times to take aspirin and dxink water." She crossed her arms.

"Don't you remember?"

"No." He couldn't help but grin.

"But isn't that par for the course?

Par . hey, maybe I'm a diehard golfer. Anyway, thanks,"

"You're welcome." Ellen came close to generating the first genuine smile Jack had seen. But as quickly as her grin appeared; it faded away with a self-consdous blush. "I'd better fix some breakfast." She moved toward the kitchen and began to busy herself with pots and pans.

"Can I do something to help?" He saw only a poor imitation of her

earlier smile when she turned around.

"Don't be s'dly:' She waved him back tot he bed." You're not that much better."

"I know; but I feel guilty about being here, taking up your timer' Ellen pointed to her braised arm and bandaged hand." All I have is time, right now. It's hard to hold a pencil like this?

Some unidentifiable emotion sliced through him as he stared at her swathed hand. Sympathy? Guilt? He cov- his confusion by clearing his throat.

"I'm really sorry about that. You wouldn't have hurt your hand if it we.

iea't for me."

She didn't look up.

"Nonsense. It was an accident."

Accident? No way. I remember the panic in your eyes when you looked up and saw me coming toward you.

But this time, when she glanced up, he saw more hesitancy than

confusion.

Either way, Jack decided not to push a subject she seemed so intent on dismiss' me He went for the most innocuous topic he could think of.

"What's for breakfast?" Please. no more soup.

The apprehension must have been apparent on his face. She gave him a wan smile.

"Somehow, I think if I say soup, I'll have a full-scale insurrection on

my hands."

"Hand," he said, nodding at her bandaged palm.

"Let's put it this way--what are you having?"

"How about pancakes?"

He let his smile answer her. Twenty minutes later, Jack struggled with adiminished appetite eas'dy satisfied early inw the enormous meal. Hepushed his nearly full plate away from him and shrugged.

"Sorry.," She made a dismi,? sing gesture.

"No apology necessary. It won't go to waste. Hermitt loves pancakes.,

Jack remained at the table and examined his hostess as she ate. Dark tendrils." of hair escaped from her long braid and framed her face.

Her clothes hung loosely on her, as if she had recently lost weight.

Maybe she wore her clothes too big as some sort of camouflage. But what

was she trying to hide? And from whom?

Ellen looked up and gave him another half smile. He found himself drawn to her eyes, with their range of emotions. Concern.

Determination. Fear.

It was the fear that bothered him the most. It had erupted at such an

odd moment, over nothing more challenging than a cup of coffee.

Coffee.

"Did you say you wanted some coffee?" Ellen paused with the fork midway

to her mouth.

A Killer Smile A Killer Smile "Uh ... no." Jack hadn't re! ited he'd said anything out loud. She continued to eat and he watched her closely.

Finally she noticed his less-than-polite stare.

"Is something wrong?

I'm . I'm not used to having someone watch me eat, much less stare a

hole through me."

He blinked.

"Tm sorry. I didn't realize I was doing that," he lied, turning away,

then back again to meet her unemotional gaze.

"Aren't you lonely up here?" he asked. "All by yourself?" ' ' She shrugged and dug her fork into the pancakes.

"Not really. I like the solitude.:"