. I'm not quite such a greenhorn as Shotbolt, Jack, whatever you may think. ” She glanced into his blue eyes wearily. Not with the unavoidable explanations, and the need to secrete the sword and hide it before returning the priest’s horse to its stable—which had been her excuse for running from Martha’s protestations. His example was followed by Darrell. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers.
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