THE HAND OF GOD

PART SEVEN:

There he was, talking to her in that level way of his. No making things easy to hear. No toning anything down. "You don't think much of me, do you?"

He grinned just a bit. "I'm not sure yet just what it is I think of you, LizzieBess. But sure as hell you're a fish that's gone and jumped out of its pond."

"You see me as flopping on the bank?"

His grin widened. "Like a trout, LizzieBess. Just like a trout."

"What does that make you?"

"Might be a grizzly come down lookin' for his dinner."

She tried not to grin in response. "You do rather resemble a bear, Benjamin."

He rubbed a hand across his chin. "Ain't had a chance for a real clean-up in several days," he nodded. "Been drug and tossed and damn near had my teeth knocked out."

"Not to mention shot."

His eyes settled on her, moved down a bit. "And you, LizzieBess, what is it you do for bathin' way out here?"

He saw her glance quickly at the small basin. "Damn!" he laughed. "I knew it! Goddamn snowmelt!"

She shrugged slightly. "Better than unmelted snow."  Then she got up and moved toward him, avoiding his eyes. "Should check on your ankle this morning."

Kneeling near the foot of the pallet, she lifted the bottom of the covers off his feet, very aware he was staring at her, watching every move she made.

"You got nice hands, LizzieBess. Don't look like you been raised on a farm."

"No, I wasn't."

"You mind tellin' me where?"

"Maryland," she replied, unrolling the wrapping she'd put on his ankle last evening.

"A far piece."

"Very far."

"How'd you get yourself way out here, a woman like you?"

She smiled almost imperceptibly. "Like me....?"

"Yes, Elizabeth, a woman like you." His voice was very low, very soft.

At the sound of her right name, her head jerked up, and her eyes were instantly captured in the grip of his. "Some...sometimes I'm not quite sure."

He leaned closer to her, the tip of his tongue resting just barely on his lower lip. She tensed, not knowing what he might do, yet staying where she was. He startled her by stopping, his face mere inches from her hair, and sniffing loudly, twice. "Don't smell like you only bathe in snowmelt."  Then he leaned back, enjoying the confounded expression on her face.

She blinked, stricken into silence. Then she saw the rather satisfied look on his face and jerked the remaining bit of wrap on his ankle. He let out a stifled gasp of pain and immediately she was appalled at herself. "Oh, Benjamin! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I don't know what...."

His teeth were sunk in his lip, his eyes squeezed closed. She'd hurt him. She'd deliberately hurt him. This wasn't why she had come to this place. She buried her face in her hands and sat back, turning her shoulders away, horrified, repulsed.

After blowing out a few breaths, he was able to open his eyes and look at her again, surprised to see her hunched so like that to the side. "LizzieBess?" he said.

She didn't move.

"You tryin' for amputation?" he said, thinking that might get some response.

"I shouldn't have done that," she whispered without turning.

"Maybe I deserved it?"

Moving her hands, she did look at him. "Nobody deserves that."

"Not even me?" He managed a weak grin.

"I'm sorry, Benjamin."

"Te absolvo," he said, not taking his eyes off hers.

Her breath caught in her throat. "You...you can't...," she gasped.

"I can't...?"

"You can't know."

"About forgiveness?" He smiled wryly. "Ain't somethin' I usually engage in, true enough."

She hadn't meant that and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw he'd not understood what

she'd almost said. "Yes," she replied quickly, latching onto the meaning he'd given her words.

"Well, Miss LizzieBess, I ain't usually the forgivin' sort, but seein' as how you done took me in and fed me 'n all, I thought I might make an exception just for you."  He looked down at his ankle. "So how's the damn thing doin' this mornin'?"  It hurt like hell, that was how it was doing, especially after the sharp jerk she'd given it.

"It's quite swollen and really bruised. I don't think you'll be able to walk on it for several days."

"And what you think you're goin' to be doin' for food them days?" he asked.

"I'll manage," she replied with a bit of a stubborn lift of her chin.

"You don't think you're skinny enough as is?"

"Skinny?"

He just cocked an eyebrow.

"You think I'm skinny?"  It wasn't a word she liked. Slender, maybe. That was ok, but skinny was ugly.

"When was the last time you had yourself some meat?"

She thought he meant on her bones and her hand flew to her face. He chuckled. "To eat, LizzieBess. Meat to eat."

"Oh," she murmured, reddening.

He liked it that she blushed. Most of the women he'd known never blushed. It stirred something inside him, both in his mind and in his groin.

"A long time," she answered, flustered. "I don't remember how long."

"You don't remember meat?"

She shook her head. "I do fine without it. Just fine."

"Skinny," he said under his breath. "And stubborn."

She glared at him. "'He that keepeth his mouth, keepeth his life; but he that openeth wide his lips shall have destruction.' Proverbs 13:3."

He threw back his head and laughed, a hearty, full laugh, impossibly pleased with this strange female.

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