answered. 'And her assistants, of course. Sometimes the downstairs
maids helped. At least I believe they did. Would you like some sliced
pickles, Marshal Clayborne? They're quite good.'
'That would be nice, ' he answered. 'Please call me Cole and call him
Daniel, ' he added with a nod toward Ryan.
'Then you must call me Grace. I insist.' She proceeded to slice the
pickle with a sharp butcher knife, pulling the sharp blade toward her
wrist. The action drove Daniel crazy. He reached out and grabbed hold
of both of her hands.
'Always cut with the blade angled away from you, ' he instructed.
'Like this.' He slowly glided the knife through the pickle toward the
plate.
'It's safer that way.' When he didn't let go of her right away, she
stared down at his big hands and simply waited. 'Thank you, Daniel.
I'll try to remember next time.' He noticed the number of cuts on her
fingers. 'You aren't used to kitchen work, are you? ' he asked as he
let go and leaned back in his chair.
'No, but I'm learning.' She once again bent over the pickle with her
knife. Wrinkling her nose and biting her lower lip in concentration,
she cautiously sawed at it until there were half a dozen thin slices
neatly arranged on the plate.
Then, with a triumphant smile, she washed her hands and set her
achievement before them.
Ryan couldn't take his eyes off her, so completely fascinated was he by
this delicate woman. Even though she was unskilled and totally out of
place, she was not deterred, nor even discouraged.
He had to force himself to get on with the business at hand. Pulling
his notepad out of his pocket, he put it on the table and reached for
his pencil. 'Why don't we get started, ' he began.
'Yes, of course, ' she agreed.
'About what time were you in the bank on the day of the robbery? ' She
stared at the tabletop when she answered. 'I was there at two o'clock,
give or take ten minutes.' Cole was about to take a bite of his
sandwich when she gave her answer.
He put the food back on the plate and shot a glance at Daniel to judge
his reaction.
