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“You can sit here and stay out of my way.” He got up and stepped over to the kitchen cabinet that held his cookstove.

He pulled it out, then grabbed a box of pancake mix from the pantry closet. While the skillet was warming up, he placed butter and a big bottle of syrup on the table. It didn’t take long before he had a large stack of pancakes ready to serve.

The rain continued to patter against the windows as they ate. They small-talked between bites, discussing favorite breakfast dishes. His favorite was bacon and eggs, and she was partial to cheese omelets. However, they both admitted a fondness for anything that required syrup.

She wanted to talk to him about the people who were still on their list of potential suspects and the few names she had added, but she decided to wait until later in the afternoon. She had a feeling the conversation might irritate him.

“Don’t forget that tomorrow I’m going to work my shift at the store,” she said as he was cleaning up the breakfast dishes.

He turned around to look at her, his green eyes radiating his disapproval. “Are you sure you’re going to be up to it?”

“I need to be there. I need to place a couple of orders,” she said. “It’s important I be there as the manager of the store.”

“The manager?” He looked at her in surprise. “When did that happen?”

She realized she hadn’t told him about her promotion. “It happened on the day that I found the note on my front door.”

“Congratulations,” he replied. “I know how much you wanted it, and I know how hard you worked to earn it.”

“Thank you, I’ve very happy about it, but that’s why it’s important for me to be there. Besides, I want to show everyone that I’m still alive and standing. That’s important to me. I don’t want anyone to think of me as weak. At least it’s a relatively short shift.”

“How short?” He finished with the dishes and gestured her into the living area.

“My shift is from nine in the morning until two.” She sat down on the sofa. At least for now she didn’t feel like she needed a pain pill. She hurt, but at the moment her pain wasn’t overwhelming.

“Personally, I don’t think you’re physically ready for that, but I know not to try to argue with you because you’re a stubborn little…uh…woman.” He sat in his recliner.

She laughed and then winced as pain shot through her ribs. “You’re right, it wouldn’t do you any good to argue with me. However, I do have a big favor to ask you. I’d really like to take a quick shower.”

“No problem. It’s a good time since the rain will help, that is if it’s warm enough.” He explained to her how to turn the water on in the shower. “When do you want to do this?”

“Now, if that’s okay with you.”

“It’s fine by me. I’ll just go get you a bath towel. The soap and shampoo bottles are in the stall.”

“And I’ll go change into a robe.”

Thank goodness she had thrown a sleeveless, terry-cloth short robe in her bag before coming here. She changed into the robe and then met him by the back door where he waited with a huge black fluffy towel.

“The rain has stopped for now.” He handed her the towel. “There are a couple of hooks right outside the stall. You can hang your things up there.”

“Thanks, Jacque.” She stepped out of the door and onto the deck. The air smelled good and fresh as if the rain had washed everything clean. The plants and bushes around the deck looked sparkling green, and it all made her eager to get a shower to make her as clean as the outside world.

The shower was much like the one she had at her shanty. She hung her towel and then stepped into the square structure and removed her robe. She reached out and hung it up next to where she had hung her towel. There was a shelf inside that held a bottle of fresh-scented soft soap and a bottle of shampoo.

The shower felt wonderful despite the water being a bit cool. She washed quickly, still surprised by how many bruises her body sported. They were up and down her legs and all over her ribs. If she dwelled on their presence for too long, she would be a total basket case.

She washed and rinsed her hair, then dried off and put her robe back on. By that time, it had begun to spit rain again, so she grabbed the towel and hurried inside.

“Here, I’ll take that.” Jacque got out of his chair and took the damp towel from her.

“Thanks, I’ll be right back.” She hurried on into her bedroom. She dressed in a pair of lightweight turquoise jogging pants and a turquoise and white T-shirt. It took a few minutes for her to brush out her wet hair and then she returned to the sofa.

“Better?” he asked.

“So much better,” she replied. She offered him a bright smile, but he didn’t return it. Instead, he frowned.

“I couldn’t help but notice the bruising on your legs,” he said, his scowl drawing his dark eyebrows closer together. “I can’t even imagine how badly bruised your ribs are.”