himself, and none of which were worthy of a hero. Not that he was. But if she wanted to persist in thinking so, who was he to argue?
Even in her somber clothes and with circles under her eyes, Kate Blakely was one of the loveliest women he had ever seen, and from all indications thus far, as sweet within as she was without. After getting off to such a bad start with her, he was appreciative of just about anything that would improve her opinion of him, even a den of rattlers. It wasn't as if he could count on his good looks to help him out.
The thought no sooner settled into Zach's mind than he had cause to question his sanity. There wasn't a woman alive so pretty or so desirable that she was worth getting snake bitten for. And from the feel of his legs, his suffering had just begun.
"You just have," he said in a low voice.
"I've just what?"
"Repaid me."
"I suppose that depends on who's keeping track. You may feel we're even. I never will. If there's anything I can do for you—anything at all—just say so and consider it done."
Anything? Most widow women weren't so naive as to make an open-ended statement like that, at least not to a man. Kate's doing so told Zach a great deal about her, probably far more than she thought to reveal. He accepted the offer as he knew it was intended. "I'll bear that in mind. You can never tell when I might need a helping hand."
She took a deep breath, as though relieved, which gave Zach the impression she had been trying to think of a way to thank him and was glad it was over. "Well…" She pressed a hand to her waist and smiled down at him. "I'll bet you're starving. I made chicken soup for the noon meal yesterday. Would you like some of the broth?"
What Zach really wanted was to close his eyes, but he couldn't, not as long as Kate Blakely was standing there.
"That'd be real nice."
She hurried from the room, her gray skirt aswirl around her ankles. Zach gazed after her for a moment. His eyelids felt heavy, but he fought to keep them open because he knew she would return in a few minutes with the broth. It was a losing battle.
* * *
The sound of his name dragged Zach up from the dark mists of sleep. He squinted to see. Kate Blakely's face hovered over him, so close he felt her breath on his cheek as she spoke. Her nearness brought him instantly awake.
"I've got your broth." She leaned across him to get the spare pillow. As she strained to lift his shoulders, her bodice brushed against his jaw. "There," she said, once she had him propped up. "Now perhaps you can eat a bite."
Her uneasiness painfully evident, she perched on the bed beside him and reached for a mug that sat on the table.
Giving him a smile, she spooned some broth into his mouth. Zach swallowed. He didn't have much choice.
Before she could go for another spoonful, he said, "I think I can do it."
"Mr. McGovern, I doubt you can even sit up."
Zach doubted it as well, but he felt like a fool. "I'm not used to a woman feeding me."
"You're in good company. I'm not used to feeding someone." She spooned more broth into his mouth. "Except for when Miranda was a baby, of course."
He could tell by the quick, almost breathless way she spoke that she was horribly nervous and trying to hide it.
The dimple in her cheek flashed again, appearing so briefly that Zach wanted to place his fingertip on the spot to see if he had imagined it.
As if she couldn't tolerate the silence, she added, "As long as you don't do like she did and spit it on me if you don't like it, we'll manage fine."
The spoon darted in for another attack. Zach managed to grin after he swallowed. "It's delicious."
"Thank you."
Barely giving him a chance to breathe, she came at him with the spoon again. Zach nearly told her she didn't have to go at feeding him like she was killing snakes, but given his recent experience, the saying died on his tongue.
Before he could think of another comment, she shoved the spoon in his mouth again.
"How are you
Even in her somber clothes and with circles under her eyes, Kate Blakely was one of the loveliest women he had ever seen, and from all indications thus far, as sweet within as she was without. After getting off to such a bad start with her, he was appreciative of just about anything that would improve her opinion of him, even a den of rattlers. It wasn't as if he could count on his good looks to help him out.
The thought no sooner settled into Zach's mind than he had cause to question his sanity. There wasn't a woman alive so pretty or so desirable that she was worth getting snake bitten for. And from the feel of his legs, his suffering had just begun.
"You just have," he said in a low voice.
"I've just what?"
"Repaid me."
"I suppose that depends on who's keeping track. You may feel we're even. I never will. If there's anything I can do for you—anything at all—just say so and consider it done."
Anything? Most widow women weren't so naive as to make an open-ended statement like that, at least not to a man. Kate's doing so told Zach a great deal about her, probably far more than she thought to reveal. He accepted the offer as he knew it was intended. "I'll bear that in mind. You can never tell when I might need a helping hand."
She took a deep breath, as though relieved, which gave Zach the impression she had been trying to think of a way to thank him and was glad it was over. "Well…" She pressed a hand to her waist and smiled down at him. "I'll bet you're starving. I made chicken soup for the noon meal yesterday. Would you like some of the broth?"
What Zach really wanted was to close his eyes, but he couldn't, not as long as Kate Blakely was standing there.
"That'd be real nice."
She hurried from the room, her gray skirt aswirl around her ankles. Zach gazed after her for a moment. His eyelids felt heavy, but he fought to keep them open because he knew she would return in a few minutes with the broth. It was a losing battle.
* * *
The sound of his name dragged Zach up from the dark mists of sleep. He squinted to see. Kate Blakely's face hovered over him, so close he felt her breath on his cheek as she spoke. Her nearness brought him instantly awake.
"I've got your broth." She leaned across him to get the spare pillow. As she strained to lift his shoulders, her bodice brushed against his jaw. "There," she said, once she had him propped up. "Now perhaps you can eat a bite."
Her uneasiness painfully evident, she perched on the bed beside him and reached for a mug that sat on the table.
Giving him a smile, she spooned some broth into his mouth. Zach swallowed. He didn't have much choice.
Before she could go for another spoonful, he said, "I think I can do it."
"Mr. McGovern, I doubt you can even sit up."
Zach doubted it as well, but he felt like a fool. "I'm not used to a woman feeding me."
"You're in good company. I'm not used to feeding someone." She spooned more broth into his mouth. "Except for when Miranda was a baby, of course."
He could tell by the quick, almost breathless way she spoke that she was horribly nervous and trying to hide it.
The dimple in her cheek flashed again, appearing so briefly that Zach wanted to place his fingertip on the spot to see if he had imagined it.
As if she couldn't tolerate the silence, she added, "As long as you don't do like she did and spit it on me if you don't like it, we'll manage fine."
The spoon darted in for another attack. Zach managed to grin after he swallowed. "It's delicious."
"Thank you."
Barely giving him a chance to breathe, she came at him with the spoon again. Zach nearly told her she didn't have to go at feeding him like she was killing snakes, but given his recent experience, the saying died on his tongue.
Before he could think of another comment, she shoved the spoon in his mouth again.
"How are you
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