"I hope you don't mind soup for breakfast. I'm afraid I don't lmep a bigvariety of foods around here, and I think you should stay with liquidsfor a while." She turned back to the stove.

"Sounds fine." Sounds nauseating. Jack made a wavering beeline to thecurtained bathroom, where he found a claw-footed tub, a chippedporcelain sink and an old-fashioned high-tank toilet. Once he relievedhimself, he stumbled back to the bed, where he found his jeans nearly folded and waiting for him. He slid the dry, stiff pants over his legs,praying his energy level would hold out and he wouldn't reliveyesterday's embarrassment of passing out in nothing but his underwear.Feeling just a bit stronger, he stood to finish the job. The sound ofthe grating zipper filled the cabin, and he looked up to catch Ellen asshe gave him a quick, hooded glance.

"Coffee?"

she asked.

"Yes, thanks." He started to get up, but she shook her head.

"No, just stay there. VII bring it to you. How do you like it?"

He paused and stared blankly across the room. How in the hell do Ilike

my coffee? Black? No. Sweet? Yeah. very sweet. I4qth lots of cream.

"Uh, two creams, three sugars ." ' She stiffened and pivoted to look at him.

"T-two creams and ..."

"Three sugars," he finished. Jack watched her face drain, then flush

with sudden color.

"Ellen, what's wrong?"

A Killer Smile A Killer Smile "N-nothing. Nothing at all." She turned

her back to him, hiding her reactions.

"Ellen ..."

"It's ... it's just an unusual way to drink your coffee." Jack started

to speak but realized she'd shut him out. He fumbled with the buttons ofhis sfiirt, which swam in and out of focus. Ellen startled him when sheshoved the mug toward him, heedless of the hot liquid that sloshed ontohis "Here." She retreated to the stove.

"Thanks?" As grateful as he was for a shot of caffeine to jump start hissluggish system, her change in attitude bothered him. Their fingertipsbrushed while he accepted the coffee, and he felt her hand tremble.

In fear? "Ellen, did I say something wrong?"

"No." Ice edged her single word.

Jack grimaced at the taste of the pale, syrupy-sweet coffee, then

glanced up over the rim of the mug to find her gaze trained on him.

He lowered the cup, offered her a wan smile and tried to take another sip without gagging.

"Something wrong?" she asked, dividing her attention betweeb him and

something beyond the door.

He swallowed, allowing himself the latitude to make a face at the taste.

"I'm sorry ... I can't drink this. My memory is so full of holes I

can't remember even the most basic things."

"L'&e what?"

He tried to grin, but the aftertaste of the coffee turned his expressioninto a scowl.

"Like, I think I take my coffee black."

Her face lost some of its pinched look, and she released a shudderingbreath.

After a moment of s'dence, she gave him a small, relieved smile.

"Let me get you another cup."

As he leaned back and waited, Jack knew he had passed some test of hers,but he had no idea how or why he was being tested in the first place.Beneath the surface of his hostess's gracious poise, he sensed a deeplayer of fear.

Last night he'd assumed her anxiety could be blamed on the lingeringnightmares. But hadn't she overcome her doubts about him? At least inher subconscious? After all, she'd fallen asleep in his arms. : Duringtheir uneventful breakfast, he caught her staring at him with anuncomfortable look during odd moments. His headache returned halfwaythrough the meal and he gave up, murning to bed. The pain sapped hiswaning strength, and he slept.

Turbulent snatches of memo tics tugged at the corners of his dreams,sending them off on wild tangents. Faces without names.

Recollections. without reason.

Memories of a dream lover with a single braid.

Chapter Four.

Jack woke up in a sweat, his gaze raking across Ellen without the lightof recognition. She placed a cool hand against his damp, flushed faceand winced at the heat radiating fwm his bristled cheek. Draping a wetwashcloth over his forehead, she offered. blm a reassuring smile to hideher panic.

"I'm hot," he complained.

"And wet?" He fixed a glassy stare in her general direction. Beneath herapprehension, a small pang of sympathy arose.

"I know. You were rtmning a feveragain and it just " Good. I"-- Jackstarted to sit up but deferred to the restraining hand she placed on hisshoulder. Settling back onto the pillow, he groaned and pressed the heelof his hand into his uninjured emple.

"Everything hurts."

"Everything?"

He nodded then winced.

"My head hurts." He flexed his neck, then rolled his shoulders.

"My back hurts, my legs hurt. I feel like I tangled with a grizzly and lost."

"I think it was more like you lost against a mountain."

"Mountain?"

"The best I can figure, you injured yourself in a fall." She managed a

half smile until she glanced into his eyes.

A Killer Smile 55 Yesterday they had appeared brown, but today they

possessed a decidedly green cast. She swallowed hard. Green like Hank's ?.

Oblivious to her internal struggles, he reached up and placed a warm

hand on her arm.

"I know I asked this last night, but it's still bothering me. Are you sure we don't know each other?"

"What do you mean?" Her stomach tightened, Jack stumbled over the words.

"I mean, it seems like we've known each other for a long time. Not just

a couple of days."

Ellen broke loose from his grip and adjusted the washcloth on his forehead.

She prayed he would simply close his eyes and save her from be' rag the

object of his sharpening gaze.

"Sorry." She dared her trembling hand not to reveal her fear.

"I've never seen you before."

At least I'm sure that part is true.

"Are you positive?" He probed his bandage gingerly.

"I can't shake the feeling that I know you, or maybe knew you in the

past."

Faced with little other choice, she relented to his insistent eye contact, trying to keep her voice low and unemotional. "You don't know

me." She searched his face for a hidden glimmer. of iinition, but she found his brown-green eyes to be undeniably honest. Confused but honest.

Hank had been equally good at hiding hl. q thoughts from her. The night

he tried to kill her, he had looked up with the same sort of open,uncomplicated expression plastered across his face. He knew she'd fallfor the air of in! 1ocence.

One more time.