Ellen turned back to the 'stove.

"At least we've established the fact I'm not paranoid. Supper will be

ready in fifteen minutes."

Jack sat up, watching her move around the small kitchen. Hermitt forsook his place by the hearth and swaggered into the kitchen, nose lifted in

search of a handout. As the savory aroma increased, Jack's hunger did, also.

He tried to be congenial. -"What's on the menu tonight? It smells

great."

"Stew and--owl" A part of biscuits hit the floor, and she pulled back from the stove, clutching her hand.

Jack got to her side in seconds.

"What happened?"

"Burned my finger,"

she said through clenched teeth. Hermitt got between them, staring at

his mistress with a dog's cocked-head curiosity. She batted at thefaucet handle with her elbow, but Jack reached around her and turned thewater on. He pushed her hand into the numbing stream and held it there.

"Just keep it there a little while, okay?" ; She shivered, then nodded.

He searched for a topic to dilute the intensity of their sudden proximity.

"You know, I'm surprised you still have running water, what with winter

on its way."

Her bottom lip began to tremble.

"W-won't last for long. Ground'll freeze. I'll have to m-melt snow."

"Let's see." Jack pulled her hand from the water, dried it off with a

nearby kitchen towel and examined the burn. "It's not bad." Cradling her hand in his, he looked up in time to see an odd mixture-of emotions cross her face.

He understood how she felt; he had his own uneven collection of feelings to deal with, as well. Something deep ina Killer Smile side demanded that he protect Ellen from all dangers-even if the worst threat to her well-being was himself. "Th-thanks."

Her teeth chattered. Was it the cold water or something else just as

chilling? He'd assume the best.

"Don't mention it. Why don't you sit down and let me try to rescue our supper from this animal." He grabbed the towel, knelt and began to retrieve the hot biscuits from the floor, elbowing away the hung dog.

"Move, Hermitt!"

The dog backed away reluctantly.

"Not much worse for wear," Jack anounced, placing the bread back on the

cool de sheet. He reached for the pan and recoiled wit ha sharp "Damn!"

"Did you burn yourself, too?"

"Forgot the pan was still hot," he mumbled around the finger he stuck in

his mouth.

"That's not how my doctor did it." Ellen led him to the s'mk and tugged on his elbow until his hand was plunged into the cold water.

"Jeez, it's cold!"

"Quit complaining."

"But" -- "I didn't complain when you did the same thing to me."

"I didn't know it was that cold."

"Now you know."

On the surface their bantering seemed on the good-natured side, but Jack

felt a hard edge to her words. Concern but not trust. Can I blame her?

I'm not sure I trust myself.

His enthusiasm for the meal waned halfway through, and he stirred his stew idly, hoping to disguise his lack of appetite.

When Ellen looked up from her final spoonful, she eyed his bowl

critically: "Don't like the stew?"

A Killer Smile "What?" He straightened in the ladder-back chair, feeling the wood slats dig into his spine.

"The stew? It tastes fine. I just-- I mean ..."

"Eyes too big for your stomach?"

He nodded, rubbing the heel of his hand over the tensed muscles at his

waist.

"Guilty."

"Your misfortune will be Hermitt's gain. I hope he doesn't get spoiled

by it, though. It's rare he gets any leftovers with meat in it."

Jack stared at the emain. of his supper and tried to hide his grimace.

"I didn't think to ask what type of meat you used in this."

His mind raced ahead. Squirrel? Venison? His stomach lurched. Bear?

"It's canned beef." She sighed.

"From a nice mom and-pop grocery store in Copper Springs, about thirty

miles from here." She stretched over to the counter and picked up an

empty can, turning it so he could see the label.

He she was enjoying herself in a perverse sort of way, and for some reason, he didn't mind. However, he would have been happier if he could push back the green-gill feeling that was marching through his stomach.

"You don't look so good, Jack." She pointed toward the bed.

"Time to retire."

Jack stretched, finding a f-w more protesting muscles, including those

in his stomach. He clenched his teeth together to stop his yawn.

"I'm tired of sleeping. It's nothing but sleep, eat and sit around trying to figure out just who in the hell I am, and I'm bored with it!"

He sj:mmed his open palm against the table, making sharp contact between the smooth wood and the burn on his hand.

"And pain!" he added with a groan.

"I'm so tired of putting up with the pain!"

A Killer Smile A Killer Smile Ellen leaned back in her chair and crossed

her arms, making him squirm beneath her solemn gaze.

"Are you through?"

He stiffened, serf-conscious of his tirade. "Yes." Struggling to hisfeet, he tried to maintain his dignity while stumbling toward the bed.