Roomful of Roses. Diana Palmer

all right, Wynn,” he said quietly, watching her, “if you’re concerned with the state of my health. There were times when I imagined you might not mind if I caught a bullet,” he added calculatingly.

      She avoided his eyes. “I don’t want you to die. I never did.”

      She walked into the kitchen and made the sandwiches automatically, wondering at her own horrified reaction to his wounds. He was in a dangerous business, she’d always known that, and why should it matter? But it did! Her eyes closed and she leaned heavily against the counter. Life without McCabe would be colorless. She had to know that he was somewhere in the world, alive.

      With an effort, she loaded a tray with coffee and chips and the sandwiches and carried it back into the living room. McCabe was still sitting where she’d let him; his face was drawn, a little paler than before.

      “You’re in pain,” she said suddenly.

      He laughed mirthlessly. “Honey, I’ve hardly been out of it for the past week, and that’s God’s own truth.”

      “Do you have anything to take?”

      “Aspirin,” he said with a grin. “You know I don’t like drugs, Wynn.”

      “You might make an exception in cases like this,” she burst out, sitting across from him on the sofa.

      “I’m a tough old bird. My hide’s just about bullet-proof.”

      She handed him the plate with his sandwiches and chips. “How long will it take for it to heal?”

      “Another month or so,” he said with obvious distaste. “The bone has to knit back properly.”

      She stared at his leg again. “Are you wearing a cast?”

      “No. The bone’s not broken clean through. But it aches all the time, and I don’t walk well. There’s a lot of me for that bone to support.”

      Her eyes ran up and down him quickly. “Yes, there is,” she agreed.

      “I really do need a place to stay,” he said over his coffee. “It’s not easy for me to get around in this condition. Surely even in this little town, people will be able to understand that. I don’t care about gossip, but I imagine you do.”

      “Yes,” she agreed, glancing at him warily. “Andy’s going to go right through the ceiling, regardless.”

      “Let me handle Andy,” he said generously. “Man to man, you know.”

      That didn’t quite ring true, but perhaps she’d misjudged McCabe. She hoped so.

      “Won’t you be bored to death staying in Redvale for a whole month?” she asked as she finished her sandwich and washed it down with coffee.

      “If I didn’t have anything to do, I might,” he agreed. “I don’t have another book due for six months, and I was between assignments, so I took a job here in town.”

      She stared at him with dawning horror. “What job?”

      “Didn’t Ed tell you?” he asked pleasantly. “I’m going to edit the paper for the next month while he goes on vacation.”