The Tender Stranger. Carolyn Davidson

he crouched beside her chair. “If you eat every bite I’ll feel better about leaving you for the day,” he told her. “If I set out now, I stand a good chance of making it back by nightfall.”

      She placed the fork carefully on her plate. “I hate for you to put yourself in danger for my sake, Quinn. But I know I need to get back on my feet. Maybe if I feel better while you’re gone I can set a batch of bread to rise.”

      His hand covered hers and he squeezed, getting her attention. “Not on your life, girl. I don’t want to have visions of you falling against that stove while I’m riding down the mountain. You just rest until the fire gets low. You’ll have to put in a chunk of that firewood, but other than that, you park your little carcass on that bed and stay warm. You hear?”

      She nodded, a bit reluctantly, aware that he deserved her obedience in this, yet unwilling to give up her independence. “I’ll mind, this time,” she said with a smile.

      “Promise?”

      “Yes…promise.” Her gaze was held by the determination she read in his face, his eyes dark and piercing as he watched her. Then he nodded, as if to underscore her words.