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Trusty shotgun in hand, she stomped out into the snow to try to rustle up something to eat for supper.
Josie dropped a handful of baby onions into the pot then leaned over to add wood to the fire. She might have closed the door with a little more force than was necessary, but she couldn’t help it. She considered herself a reasonable woman, but she was close to reaching the end of her rope. She’d spent two and a half hours outside. A person would think all the energy she’d exerted trudging through snowdrifts would have alleviated her anger a little.
Very little.
She’d done a lot of walking and she’d done a lot of thinking, which had led to a lot of soul-searching. She didn’t question her feelings for Kane. She questioned her good sense. Adding potatoes and carrots to the bubbling stew, she muttered under her breath. “I’ve tried everything I could think of to bring out that man’s gentler side and what does he do? Practically accuses me of wantin’ to shoot him. Why, if I wanted to shoot him I woulda done it by now. If he wasn’t so thickheaded and stubborn he’d know that all I want is to get to know him. I’ve tried being nice. The nicer I am, the grouchier he gets.”
She was still sputtering an hour later. Huffing, she reminded herself that she didn’t have to take this kind of abuse. Not from her father and brothers. Not from the man she’d been stupid enough to fall in love with. Until he gave her a sign, she was done being nice to him. That decided, she carried two chipped bowls and mismatched cups to the table.
On the other side of the room, Kane grimaced and ducked his head slightly. Amazed that neither of the shallow bowls had broken beneath the force with which Josie had clanked them onto the worn wooden table, he measured her with a long, appraising look.
She’d stomped the snow off her boots and had come inside almost two hours ago. Although she hadn’t said a word to him, she’d talked to herself pretty much nonstop. She was wearing another fla
Ambling closer, he said, “My mother used to sputter like that under her breath, too. I’d forgotten until now.”
She looked at him over her shoulder. “Something tells me you gave your mother a lot to sputter about.”
Kane shrugged his good shoulder. “What’s for supper?”
She waited a good, long time before answering. “Rabbit stew.”
Kane strode a little closer. Stomach rumbling, he sniffed the air. She’d been gone two hours before he’d heard the first shot. The second shot had come from someplace closer half an hour later. He’d tried not to watch the clock, he’d tried to sleep and he’d tried to tell himself that the reason he couldn’t seem to do either had nothing to do with a guilty conscience.
Kane Slater may have been a lot of things, but he was no liar. He’d screwed up, plain and simple. He’d been ornery, mean and inconsiderate. She’d nursed him back to health, sharing her warm cabin and her food. And what had he done? Treated her unkindly.
“I’m sorry, Josie.”
Josie turned around slowly. Kane was looking at her, one arm cradled in the makeshift sling, the other hanging limply at his side. He seemed as surprised by his apology as she was.
“I should have thought. I should have realized. And I should have thanked you,” he said, hesitating as if he’d had to dredge the words from a place deep inside him.
She tried to hold a grudge, really she did, but she didn’t have it in her to stay angry at this man. She’d hoped he had a gentle side. Like the tip of an iceberg, she was glimpsing it now.
“I know it’s no excuse,” he said. “But I’m not used to all this inactivity. Sitting around is driving me crazy.”
She studied him thoughtfully for several seconds. He’d had another bath that morning, but this time he’d insisted upon doing everything himself. The nick in his chin was the result of shaving with his left hand. Other than that, he’d managed quite well. His light brown hair was clean, the color of his skin more healthy looking. He’d come to her injured and bleeding. The flicker of emotion way in the back of his eyes made her think that his shoulder hadn’t been his most serious wound. The realization was dredged from a place beyond logic and reason, a place where there were only shimmery emotions and yearnings older than time.
He’d told her, in no uncertain terms, that he didn’t want or need anybody. Need was a fu
Going back to her stew, she said, “Apology accepted. And you’re welcome. Now, I hope this stew gets done soon. There’s nothing like trailing a potential supper for hours to give me an appetite.”
She handed him the silverware and told him to make himself useful. She noticed he set the table restaurant style, the fork on the left, spoon and knife on the right. Somebody had taught him ma
Kane shook his head and lowered onto a straight-back chair. Barely taking enough time to draw a deep breath, Josie continued. “Te
Kane shrugged. Sure, why not? He was getting used to listening to her stories.
“Because,” she said, her long wooden spoon sending steam wafting from the pot of bubbling stew. “The Te
Kane stared across the small room. He felt dizzy. That happened a lot when he tried to make sense of what Josie said.
She talked on, telling him about people he’d never heard of and places he never pla
She dropped onto a chair opposite him and scooped up a spoonful of stew. “It’s given me a good understanding of why some people become vegetarians. They say they can’t eat the flesh of living creatures. Plants were alive, too, once. How do we know they don’t have feelings? I once read that there’s an entire segment of our population that talks to their roses and tomatoes and whatnot. I think the human race has to eat something, don’t you?”
Kane stared across the table, spoon poised in midair.
“What?” she asked.
“Oh,” he said, lowering his spoon to his bowl, “I was just thinking that you’re really nothing like I expected a mountain woman to be.”
“And how’s that?”
Waiting to answer until after he’d taken his first bite of supper, he said, “Bear in mind that what little knowledge I have of mountain people is based on Beverly Hillbillies reruns.”
“I’m definitely no Gra
“You don’t wear a bra.” He clamped his mouth shut. Where had that come from?
Her smile set his teeth on edge. “There’s something to be said for small breasts, isn’t there?”