Roomful of Roses

“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.”

Chapter Three

Wynn felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. She simply stared at him.

“Edit the paper?” she echoed. “Ed’s paper? My paper? You’ll be my boss?”

“You got it,” he said pleasantly.

“I quit.”

“Now, Wynn...”

“Don’t you ‘now Wynn’ me!” she said, setting down her coffee cup with a loud crack. “I can’t live with you and work with you for a solid month and stay sane!”

He lit a cigarette and watched her with an odd, quiet smile. “What’s the matter, honey, afraid you won’t be able to resist seducing me?”

She went scarlet and started to jump to her feet. Unfortunately, in the process, her knee hit the tray and knocked it off onto the floor. Bits of ham and bread floated in a puddle of coffee at McCabe’s feet while he threw back his head and laughed uproariously.

Her slender hands clenched at her hips and she counted to ten twice.

Before she could think up something bad enough, insulting enough, to say to him, the phone rang. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed up the receiver.

“Hello!” she said shortly.

There was a hesitation and a cough. “Uh, Wynona?”

“Andy!” she gasped, glaring at McCabe. Her hand twisted the cord nervously. “Oh, hi, Andy, how are you?”

“Ed said you’d gone home for lunch,” her fiancé said suspiciously. “He said you had a visitor. A guest,” he emphasized. “Wynona, have you gone crazy? McCabe may be your guardian, and an older man, but he’s a bachelor and we’re not married and you simply can’t let him stay there!”

His thin voice had gotten higher and wilder by the second, until he was all but shouting.

“Now, Andy,” she said soothingly, trying to ignore McCabe’s smug grin, “you know how it is. McCabe’s been injured and he’s not even able to walk!”

“Then how is he going to get to bed? Are you going to carry him back and forth!”

She started laughing. She couldn’t help it. First McCabe appeared out of the blue with bullet wounds, and now Andy was hysterical....

“Wynona?” Andy murmured.

“Have you got a wheelbarrow I could borrow?” she asked through tears.

“A what? Oh, I see.” He chuckled politely, and then sighed. “I’m jumping to conclusions, of course. But I remember McCabe. Can I help feeling threatened?”

“I’m engaged to you,” she reminded him, furious at McCabe’s open eavesdropping.

“Yes, I know,” Andy said, softening audibly. “It just hit me sideways, that’s all.”

“McCabe is my guardian,” she said, glaring at McCabe, who was watching her with a wicked smile. She looked away quickly. “Anyway, he’s old.”

“He’s a year younger than I am,” Andy murmured.

“I didn’t mean that!” Wynn twisted the telephone cord viciously. “It’s press day, Andy, I’m just not thinking straight.”

“It’s just another Tuesday,” her fiancé said shortly. “I don’t know why you make such a big thing about Tuesdays.”

“You’d have to be a reporter to understand, I guess,” she said generously. “Look...”

“Invite him to supper,” McCabe said sotto voce.

She gaped at him. “It’s Tuesday!” she burst out.

“I heard you the first time!” Andy shouted.

“I’ll cook,” McCabe said simultaneously.

“Don’t be absurd, you can’t even stand up!” she threw back at him.

“Are you implying that I’m drunk?” Andy asked, aghast.