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famished even after eating whatever she offered.
    While the stew was heating up on the stove, she cut up a whole plate of vegetables, fruit and added more bread, double the amount from the previous night.  Goodness, what she would do for a few cooking skills.  “Wouldn’t it be nice to have some brownies or something yummy for dessert tonight?” she called out to him. 
    “I’m guessing you’re only saying that as a wish and not because it is a possibility?” he asked, not a great deal of hope in his expression. 
    She poked her head out the door with a grimace.  “I didn’t mean to tease,” she told him apologetically.  “I just…well, I don’t know how to cook and there isn’t anyone around this area who knows how to make brownies.”  She sighed as she leaned against the doorframe, her mind on both him and the pot simmering behind her.  “I think that’s one of the things I miss the most about home.  The desserts were much more decadent than here.”  She shrugged and moved back to the tiny stove.   “It is better for my health so I guess it is good.”
    “You’re not one of those women who loves chocolate, are you?”
    She laughed.  “I haven’t ever met a male or female who doesn’t like chocolate.”
    “Yes, but isn’t the chocolate craving sort of stereotypical for a woman?”
    She poked her head out again and glared at him.  “I am not stereotypical,” she told him firmly, but with a glint in her eyes that relayed her teasing. 
    He laughed, but shrugged one of those magnificent shoulders.  “My point exactly.  You’re a doctor out in a rural village making her way in the world.  You don’t follow any of the normal stereotypes.  Why bow down to the chocolate thing?”
    She held the wooden spoon out at him like a weapon.  “Don’t chocolate bash!” she told him sternly.  “Especially when I haven’t had any for…” she thought back to the last time she’d had anything with chocolate and couldn’t remember, “well, a long time!” she finally ended.  Then moved right back into the kitchen to turn off the heat under the stew.
    She poured the stew into two bowls, giving him more than seventy-five percent.  She wasn’t very hungry at the moment and she suspected he was ravenously hungry.  Besides, he needed the extra calories.  His body was burning up fuel at a rapid pace while trying to heal. 
    “Dinner,” she announced as she handed him the large bowl of stew.  She moved back to the kitchen and brought out the platter filled with veggies and fruit, placing that next to him.  She then got her own bowl as well as the toast, wishing she could do something more interesting that simple toast. 
    “It isn’t much, but it is filling and healthy,” she said apologetically.
    “It’s great,” he said, then noticed her small bowl of stew.  “You’re going to have to help me eat some of this,” he told her.  “That’s not enough for a mouse to live on.
    Raven laughed softly and shook her head.  “I don’t think you’re a very good judge of what a normal person eats during a meal.  Someone with your height and…” she gestured towards his shoulders and arms with her spoon, then had trouble remembering what she was talking about as her eyes collided with those very delicious muscles. 
    Turk wanted to laugh but he couldn’t get out of this bed fast enough to answer her silent plea.  Damn, but he was going to…okay, he wouldn’t kill the bastards who had shot him.  He suspected that Raven would be upset if he killed anyone.  But he would hurt them.  Very badly.  And he wouldn’t allow Raven to heal them either!  They’d just have to find their own doctor because this one was taken. 
    Very soon, he was going to prove that to her.  “Eat up,” he encouraged, then handed her a piece of toast. 
    She nibbled on the toast and finished more than half of her stew, but it was hard to eat when this man was talking with her, teasing her about one