Suddenly the door swung open, and there she was, standing right in front of him, her face all flushed and lively. Then-eyes locked. He felt his mouth drop open. She'd cleaned up, and she looked ... younger.
Guilt tickled his gut. The trails weren't kind to a woman her size.
"Mr. MacKenna?"
Her brackish voice ripped a hole through his thoughts. It wasn't his goddamn fault she was a woman. His mouth snapped shut with an audible click of teeth; his eyes narrowed. "You wasted water on a damn bath?" he growled. "There'd better be enough left for drinking, or you'll be the one hauling it."
The startled look froze on her face, and whatever she'd
been about to say vanished. Pushing past her, he barreled into his tent. Two steps in he stopped in his tracks. "What the . . ." He spun around, stabbing her with his eyes. "This place smells like a goddamn hospital."
She met his angry stare without flinching. "Better a hospital than a privy."
"Why you-"
She hurried to his side. "Let's not fight, Mr. MacKenna. I've made us a nice supper, a
nd I would so hate to spoil it. Let's call a truce. Perhaps after eating we can reach a compromise."
He reined in his temper, forcibly reminding himself of his mission. Already he knew her well enough to know that if he antagonized her, she'd only dig her heels in deeper. And her goddamn heels were in deep enough now. "Okay," he mumbled, letting her help him out of his coat. "What's that other smell?"
A pained look crossed her face. "Supper."
"Oh." He watched as she smoothed wrinkles from his old mackinaw and hung it carefully on the lower hook. He snorted. The little priss was probably itching to iron it.
"Sit down, please," she said, waving her hand regally toward the table.
There was a bright red tablecloth on the table and two white cloth napkins. "Christ," he muttered under his breath.
"What was that, Mr. MacKenna?"
"Call me Stone Man. And I didn't say anything." He lowered himself to one of the stump chairs and scooted close to the table.
She buzzed around the stove, lifting lids, stirring, tasting, testing, opening the oven door and closing it. It made him dizzy just watching her.
"So, Mr. ... uh ... Stone Man, how long have you been in the Yukon?" Her voice sounded different, nervous. "It seems so desolate and lonely up here. But then, perhaps you're that type of man. I, myself, find that..."
Her words mushed together in his mind. She was chattering like a squirrel, and it was giving him a headache.
"How old are you?" he cut in when she took a breath.
A pot lid clattered noisily into place, and she spun to look
34
35
:<
Slow down. Think.
36
Damn!
I bet if one of us tried to get a little lovin', a proper lady like herd run for cover
Chapter Four