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Zane rose as she entered the dining room. A telltale smear of purple juice on his lower lip hinted that he’d sampled her pie this morning. Something inside her began to sing.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning. One of your patients brought some blackberries yesterday, so I—”
His dark eyebrows rose. “Are you saying you made the pie?”
“Yes, I... Sam showed me how and—”
His sudden smile startled her into silence. “I’m surprised,” he said. “And impressed.”
Winifred knew she was blushing. The distinctly odd expression in Zane’s gray eyes confirmed it. Instantly she found it hard to breathe. He looked and looked at her without speaking until the flesh on her bare forearms formed tiny goose bumps.
“Winifred?”
“Y-yes?”
Zane watched her eyes widen. They were like Celeste’s, yes, but a shade darker. And at this moment they looked...apprehensive.
“I owe you an apology.”
The morning air was already stifling, and the sun had scarcely cleared the mountains to the east. Perhaps that was why her cheeks were so pink. He loosened his shirt collar in the oppressive heat.
She looked down at the tablecloth, at the door leading to the kitchen, everywhere but at him. He held his breath until she spoke.
“I rather thought I owed you the apology. I had no right to...” She swallowed and looked up at him, her eyes shiny. “Perhaps a child’s place really is with her father.”
“Perhaps,” he suggested quickly, “we should forgive each other and have breakfast.”
A beaming Sam slipped into the room, a platter of eggs and bacon in one hand, the coffeepot in the other. “Have biscuits, too,” he announced. “And jar of apricot jam from Missy Madsen. For ulcer, she say.”
“Ah, yes.” Zane nodded. “Sent her home yesterday to rest. Apparently she made jam instead. Sometimes I wonder what good a physician’s advice is.”
Winifred continued to study him.
He saw that she was struggling to articulate the question in her eyes. “What is it, Winifred? What do you want to ask?”
She blinked and licked her lips. “How do you know I want to ask anything?”
“I am a doctor. I was trained to read people’s eyes and facial expressions. Often they reveal more than heart rates or blood pressure, or even fevers.”
He wished she wouldn’t run her tongue over her lips that way; something inside him flickered to life when she did it. Something he didn’t want to think about.
God in heaven, every fiber of his being ached to hear Celeste’s voice, feel her warmth beside him at night. His brain could acknowledge that she was gone, but part of him still could not accept it. Maybe he never would.
The lazy morning heat pressed down on him. He didn’t want to move; he just wanted to escape to someplace cool and green where he didn’t have to think.
An idea popped into his brain. He discounted it immediately, then shook his head. Yes, why not?
Chapter Six
“Winifred, would you care to go swimming this afternoon?”
She frowned. He could see her hesitation, but the more he thought about it the more he thought it was a good idea. He knew she didn’t like him and he’d hurt her feelings. He wanted to make it up to her in some way. He pressed on. “It’s beastly hot, and I have no duties at the hospital until evening. I often go to a place, we call it a ‘swimming hole’ out here, where the river widens into a pool, like a lagoon. I go there often in the summer, usually on horseback.”
“I’m afraid I have nothing proper to wear for riding. Or for swimming, either.”
“Sam can find you something. Besides, no one else ever goes to this spot, so no one will see you.”
“No one but you.” She sounded half tempted and half disapproving.
“I won’t look, I promise.”
“I do not believe you, Zane. But it is too tempting to escape this awful heat, so yes, let’s do go swimming.”
Zane held back a smile. Celeste’s older sister was more adventurous than Celeste had been. More open to trying new things, like baking a pie. And more tolerant of human error.
Or was she? He watched her stuff the last of her toast in her mouth and gulp down her coffee. He knew nothing about her, really. Every day she surprised him.
She rose from the table and started for the kitchen. “Sam? Could you find a riding skirt for me in Celeste’s closet? And maybe...”
