Free Song of the West by Nora Roberts Page A

material on her skin. Turning away from the mirror, she studied the bed.
    â€œI’m not getting in there again,” she muttered, and with a small gesture of defiance belted the robe more securely. “I can eat at the table like a normal person.”
    After a moment, her progress down the hall seemed more of a crawl than a walk. Her legs were heavy with a weakness that infuriated her. The stillness of the house vibrated around her, playing havoc with her nerves, and the need to hear the natural, everyday movements of another human being became increasingly important. She cursed the waves of giddiness that swam around in her head, forcing her to stop time after time to rest her hand against the wall.
    â€œThis is ridiculous.”
    â€œYou’re right.”
    The harsh agreement came from behind as Jake’s hands gripped her shoulders.
    â€œWhat are you doing out of bed?”
    â€œI’m all right.” She swayed against his chest. He gripped her waist to support her, and she rested her hands on his arms.
    â€œI’m just a bit wobbly, and I’m having some trouble with my ankle.”
    He let his gaze travel down to rest on her bare feet. “Probably turned it when you fell off the horse.”
    â€œI fell off Spook?” Her expression was incredulous.
    â€œYou were unconscious at the time. Now, get back in bed and stay there.” Effortlessly, he swept her into his arms, and she laid her head against his shoulder.
    â€œJake, don’t make me go back to bed. It’s so quiet in there, and I don’t feel like being alone now.”
    He bent and brushed lips that parted in confusion. “If you think you can sit in a chair without sliding on your face, you can come in the kitchen.”
    She nodded, sighed and closed her eyes. “I hate being so much trouble.”
    She felt him shift her in his arms before he began the journey down the hall. “I knew you were trouble the minute I set eyes on you.”
    â€œDon’t tease, Jake, I’m trying to thank you.”
    â€œWhat for?”
    She lifted a hand to his cheek, turning his face so that he would look at her. “For my life.”
    â€œThen take better care of it in the future,” he suggested.
    â€œJake, please, I’m serious. I owe you . . .”
    â€œNothing, you owe me nothing.” His voice had hardened with annoyance. “I don’t want your gratitude.” They had reached the kitchen, and he placed her in a chair at the table. “Which ankle did you hurt?” He crouched down by her feet.
    â€œThe left one. Jake, I— Ouch!”
    â€œSorry.” He grinned up at her, then rested his hand with friendly ease on her knee. “It’s not swollen.”
    â€œIt still hurts,” she said stubbornly.
    â€œKeep off it, then,” he advised with simple logic, and turned away to finish breakfast.
    â€œYou’ve got some bedside manners, Dr. Tanner,” she observed sharply.
    â€œYes, ma’am, so I’ve been told.” When he turned to face her, his smile was bland. “Tell me, Sam, does Sabrina have a mole on her left hip, too?”
    Color flooded her face. “You . . . you . . .” she faltered, and clutched the robe tight at her throat.
    â€œAround here, we call that locking the barn door after the cow’s got loose. Have some coffee,” he invited with sudden graciousness, pouring a cup and setting it on the table. “Start on this bacon,” he ordered, sliding a plate in front of her. “That color didn’t last long, you’re pale as a ghost again. When did you eat last?”
    â€œI . . . at breakfast yesterday, I guess.”
    â€œToast and coffee, I imagine,” he said disgustedly. “It’s a wonder you can manage to sit up at all. Eat.” He plucked a piece of bacon from the plate and held it out to her. “I’ll have some eggs ready in a