Love Never-Ending by Anny Cook

Author:Anny Cook [Cook, Anny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing Inc.
Published: 2013-12-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Bishop’s Acquiescence

Dinner at the Llewellyn house was a huge pot of vegetable soup that had been simmering all day, and fresh bread from the bakery. The youngsters had eaten and gone to bed, leaving the adults to share a peaceful meal. As Dancer and Eppie dined with the family, Dancer reflected on the universal truth that a day spent out-of-doors worked up a powerful hunger, whether in the valley or out. Conversation was minimal as everyone consumed soup and bread as though it would be their last meal. It was good soup, Dancer admitted as he poked at the vegetables in his bowl. Very good soup, even if the vegetables were strange.

Eppie frowned as she looked at the group gathered around the table. “Where are Hawke and Bishop?”

“They are out exploring the valley,” Dai replied easily.

Startled, she stared at him with all sorts of questions tumbling in her mind. “In the middle of the Midsummer Gathering? Isn’t that a strange time to go exploring?”

Dai shrugged. “Sometimes, these things cannot wait.”

Dancer tapped her arm to get her attention and when she looked at him, he shook his head. All right. Obviously, this wasn’t a topic for discussion right now.

Merlyn spread butter on a slice of sunflower bread. “How did your discussion go with Rebaccah and Hamilton? How did she take the news about your parents?”

“How did you know she knew my parents?”

“Dancer. We knew both the McCrorys and the Taylors before we came to the valley. Actually, Jade and I met your parents a long time ago.”

“Well, it was awkward,” Dancer answered bluntly. “The first thing she asked about was my parents. Having to discuss murder right off the bat was a bad way to start a reunion.”

“Murder is always awkward,” Jade pointed out. “The murder of family members is also painful. You have had two years to absorb the worst of the horror. For Rebaccah, it happened this morning.”

Thinking about what she said while he slowly chewed his bread, Dancer finally nodded. “I don’t see what I could have done differently given the circumstances. Suddenly we were face-to-face and I was totally unprepared.”

Eppie snorted genteelly. “That is what’s actually bothering you. You weren’t in control. You can’t always be in control, Dancer.”

“Since I arrived in this valley, control hasn’t even been in my vocabulary except when I tie you to our bed!”

A deep silence fell over the kitchen. Merlyn fought to keep the smile off his face. Then losing the battle, he laughed so hard tears rolled down his cheeks. Soon, everyone but Dancer was laughing. At last Merlyn stopped and cleared his throat. Brushing the tears away with his hands, he observed, “Interesting technique. Does it work?”

“Not very well.”

“So you wouldn’t recommend it, eh?”

“It has its moments,” Dancer admitted.

Eppie decided it was a perfect time to change the subject. “Who was that very tall man escorting Samara around at the gathering?”

“Banisher Ewell,” Arturo replied abruptly. “He’s an archivist up at Talking Wall.”

“Really? He looked familiar. I wonder why he came to the gathering this year.

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