"What if they're still out there?"

"Looking for you? Not in this weather. They'd have to wait until the

snow stopped." "I don't mean that. What if they're out there, hurt? What if I wassupposed to get help?" Pain etched his feajack's depth of emotiontriggered a sense of relief in Ellen which diluted her doubt. This mancouldn't be Hank; Hank never cared for anyone other than himself, neverconcerned himself with the welfare of others. The "what ifs" in Hank's life only served to fuel his greed. What if his parents died and lefthim a million dollars? What if he could get even with everyone who had wronged him? What if he had a chance to gain control of everyone aroundhim? Hank had no compassion for others, but to her relief, Jack evidently did.

They were two separate people. They had to be.

"Ellen?"

She looked up, seeing him in a newer, better light. "yes?"

"Why do you live here ... all by yourself?"

Ellen returned to the rocking chair, surprised at the way the answer

flowed freely from her.

"I write and I draw. I guess you can say the solitude is beneficial to one find the surroundings help with the other."

"Surroundings? What do :/ou mean?"

"I never run out of subjects around here."

"Subjects?"

She nodded toward her work table.

"Animals. I do pen-and-ink sketches."

"Pen and ink? Then you work only in black and white."

"yes."

'why?"

She leaned back in the chair and released her weight, creating a steady

rocking motion. No one had ever asked her that question before. Not even George.

A Killer Smile A Killer Smile She shrugged.

"I don't know. I just prefer ink."

"It must be terrible to spend fall up here and try to keep everything in a black-and-white perspective." He po'mted out the window at the few yellow leaves that still clung stubbornly to the snow-covered branches.

"The trees, those yellow ones, I ... I don't remember what they're "

That's fight. Aspens. How can you watch the changing of the leaves during autumn and not try to capture it, as an artist? How can you pass up a challenge like that?"

Flen thought for a moment; then shrugged.

"I guess I know my limitations. I can't do it, so why try?"

He continued to push.

"But if you succeed, think of the sense of satisfaction it would bring."

She glanced around her stark cabin.

"I have enough challenges in my life. When the weather gets bad, my

biggest challenge is to survive."

"But is mere survival enough?"

Ellen planted her feet, stopping the motion of the rocking chair.

"I'm beginning to get a good idea of just who you are. You must be aprofessor of philosophy--no, better yet, of psychology--who spends allhis time contemplating. the quirks of a modern society. But you're theone who should be the patient and lie on the couch, not me. After all,your childhood is the big question of the moment."

He reset tied him if on the bed and laughed.

"Okay, so I'll play patient. It an' started when I was s'x and I got my... my d-dog." His laughter faded away as his expression grewthoughtful, then triumphant.

"Ellen, I had a dog! He was black and tan and always wore a red collarand his name was ..." He faltered and pressed back into the crestfallen.

"Damnl It's She watched him grip the iron bed frame, his knuckles white.

"It'll come to you," she offered in a gentle voice: He shut his eyes,the energy draining from his face.

"But it hurts so much to try.," Then don't try so hard. Just sit backand relax. It'll come back to you in due time, I promise. Now get somerest, Jack."

He set fled uncomfortably into the pillow and sighed. Ellen remained'beside him, keeping watch over him until she was sure he was asleep.Only then could she allow her- serf time to study his features.

Staring at him, she made a mental sketch of his face--his high forehead,the shallow cleft in his chin, his full lips, chapped by the fever, theshadow of his beard darkening the feverish flush in his cheeks.. Thethin scar by his jaw-line had a slightly jagged edge, then straightenedto a thin line.

Certainly no plastic surgeon would be' so careless as to leave such atelltale mark of his handiwork.

She mentally shook herself out of the grips of speculation. Deal viththe here and nov, not the past. Certainly not the future.

She searched for something to occupy her hands, something mindiess andautomatic, As she scanned the room, her gaze stopped at the rack whereJack's ripped jacket hung. After finding her sewing box, she returned tothe rocking chair. Her needle flashed to the tempo of the gentle rhythm,slowly creating rough, puckered seams through the black material. Shewasn't much of a seamstress, but it would hold together and keep himwarm when he eventually needed his jacket.

After all, he wouldn't stay there with her forever. A chill crept acrossthe back of her neck, and she forced herself to return her attmtion tothe jacket.

Once she completed the repairs, an irritating, itchy feeling replacedher sense of accomplishment. If left unchala Killer Smile lenged, sheknew her thoughts would go places where she didn't want to go. Shesought distraction. She glanced at Jack, who shifted fitfully in her bed.

He flipped over and groaned, throwi g an arm across his face.

Ellen stepped close, to the bed.

"Jack?" He shifted in obvious discomfort, muttering something she didn'tquite catch.

She repositioned the washcloth he'd knocked off.

"Shh, you'll be all right." , He responded to her voice with a sleepysigh.

"I'm hot," he complained.

"I know ... I'm sorry."

A half smile flitted across his face, then faded away as he pushed atthe sheet that tw/sted around him.

F. {. { talked to him in a soothing voice as she unwrapped the sheet andsmoothed it out. As long as she spoke, he remained c{m, but as soon asshe stopped, he grew more agltauxl "Don't go." He reched out and snaggedher wrist.

"I'm not going anywhere," she replied, easing out of his grasp.

"I like hearing your voice. It always makes me feel bet Always Herthroat dogged on her response.

"I'm g-glad. Jack. But you need to get some rest. What if I read toyou?"

"Yeah. Read." He burrowed into the pillow, his fears evidently alhyed bywhatever role he'd given her to play. Ellen forgave herself for herimpersonation. If the sound of her voice brought him some relief, thenshe'd continue talking. She eyed the bookcase of manuscripts, selecting'one at random. Once she stared a genfie motion in the rocker, she beganto read in a soft voice.

A Killer Smile THE LAJRFR SWAYER gently back and forth, reflecting thebalmy cadence of the ocean. The easy motion of the ship appealed to myexhaustion and soon I slept a deep, dreamless sleep. When I awoke, Ipanicked.

The lanterns! I watched them cut wide arcs through the air, hitting thecabin walls with a thud. The shattered glass chimneys dropped in shardsto the cabin floor.

The deck rose to meet me as I stumbled from the bunk. A roar outside' swallowed the voices I heard from above. The ship lurched back andforth, slamming me into furniture and bulkhead. 4 loud cracking soundechoed through the ship, and a wall of water poured into the cabin. Itucked the hem of my white dress into my sash and scrambled for theladder leading to the deck. /1 wave of water washed me off the firstrung and slammed me into a heavy trunk: The seawater turned the delicatelace of my dress a sic My brown-green, but I didn't have time to worryabout a wedding gown when faced with the challenges of survival.

I made my way to the ladder again, this time wrapping an arm around therungs to successfully meet the next wave. Climbing to the deck, I duckedin time to miss a large barrel bobbing like a cork in the water.

Jack clung to the mast, working the ropes. One sail still flapped in theferocious winds, making an awful popping sound I could hear over theroar of the storm. I clutched a railing and called out, but the waveswashed away the strength of my words.

Somehow Jack knew I was there. He turned to face me, his handsomefeatures turned into a mask of concern and anger. He opened his mouth toyell, then looked up. The mast splintered and dropped, pulling the saildown with it.

He raised his hands in a useless act of protection, then disappearedunder a ton of wet, ripped canvas.

Killer Smile A Killer Smile I screamed, and in my panic, let go of therailing. The sea claimed its next victim.

JACK ROT. T. oxrl in bed, his mind cut loose by delirium.

The ship rolled and pitched, slamming him against the deck, which rosehalfway up to meet him. He called her name, knowing she would never hearhis last words. The churning green waters poured over the side rail,splintering the wooden deck and washing the remains away. He clutched atthe mast to save himself from a watery death.

The next wave. hit with such ferocity that it snapped the mast in twoand carried him over the side of the ship and into the boiling brine.

llme ceased to exist while he fought to survive: He grabbed gulps of airwhen the powers that be allowed him to surface.

The waves pummeled his body, pushing him into debris and sweeping him away.

Then, as quickly as it seemed death was inevitable, he felt sand beneathhis cheek. The waves rolled him up the beach and deposited him in ashallow tidal pool. He lifted himself' up and peered through the curtainof seawater that dripped into his eyes. He looked to the sea, releasinga shuddering sigh. The storm withdrew, leaving only destruction bobbingin its wake.

111 was gone.

His ship. His crew.

Tess!

1Fhy had he ordered her bdowdecks? He thought it was for her safety, butthat very command, retrospectively foolish, had sealed her doom. WIT enthe ship broke apart, she was below. His hand went to his chest, wherehe found' the small cross she had given him.

Somehow the thin gold chain had survived the torments of the sea. Hishands shook as he fingered the only memento he had left of her. Helifted it to his lips and closed his eyes for a moment.

He staggered to the edge of the tree line and collapsed in the lush foliage.

When he opened his eyes again, two suns were rising in the east, one a

reflection in a tranquil sea. He had never expected to see another sunrise.

He tried to raise his hand to shade his eyes, but something weighed him

down When he turned, he felt a shock of recognition and relief course

through his soul.

Tess was curled up next to him, one arm thrown across his chest and her head in the crook of his shoulder. He raised one hesitant hand to stroke her cheek, and her eyes sprang open at his touch.