Rescues 2 - Diamond Bay by Linda Howard

Author:Linda Howard
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-10-12T09:43:19+00:00

Chapter Eight

The next few days were slow, hot and peaceful. Now that Kell was on the mend and didn't

require her constant attention Rachel resumed her normal work schedule; she finished planning

her course and began working on her manuscript again, as well as tending the garden and

doing all the other small chores that never seemed to end. She got the requested hollowpoint

bullets for Kell, and the .357 was never far from his hand. If they were inside he sometimes

placed it on the table in the bedroom, but usually he kept it stuck into his waistband at the

small of his back, instantly accessible.

Honey came to take the stitches out of his wounds and professed to be amazed at how

well he had healed. "Your metabolic rate must be something else," she said admiringly. "Of

course, I did a terrific job on you. The muscle in your leg was a mess, but I did some repair

work, and I think you're going to come out of this without even a limp."

"You did a helluva job, doc," he drawled, smiling at her.

"I know," Honey returned cheerfully. "You were just plain lucky on your shoulder. You may

lose some of your rotation ability, but not much, I don't think. Take it easy on both the leg

and shoulder for another week or so, but you can start working the stiffness out if you're

careful."

He had already been working the stiffness out; Rachel had seen him exercising his shoulder

and arm carefully, as though testing the limits of the stitches. He hadn't put any weight on

either his leg or shoulder, but he had been doing exercises to ease his movements, and as a

result his limp was much better, no worse than if he'd had a sprained ankle.

Honey hadn't even blinked when he removed the pistol from his waistband and placed it on

the table while he took off his khaki pants and blue cotton shirt. Wearing only his briefs, he'd

sat at the table and observed expressionlessly while she removed the stitches and Rachel

leaned over to watch. Then he put his clothes back on and returned the heavy pistol to its

accustomed place at the small of his back.

"Stay for lunch," Rachel invited. "Tuna salad and fresh tomatoes, light and cool."

Honey made it a practice never to refuse one of Rachel's invitations. "Done. I've been

craving a fresh tomato."

"Southerners serve tomatoes with almost everything," Kell observed.

"That's because almost everything tastes better with a tomato," Honey defended. She

was from Georgia, and passionately fond of tomatoes.

"Love apples," Rachel said absently. "Tomatoes, that is. Though I don't know why they

were called that, since most people thought they were poisonous because they're a member

of the nightshade family, like belladonna."

Honey chuckled. "Oh, ho! You've been reading up on old poisons, haven't you? Is someone

in one of your books going to kick the bucket from an overdose of belladonna?"

"Of course not. I don't write whodunits." Not at all perturbed by Honey's teasing, Rachel

glanced at Kell as she set the table. "You're not a Southerner, are you? You have a drawl, but

it isn't Southern."

"Most of it comes from spending a lot of time with a man from Georgia.

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