Part 14 (1/2)

There was another cat, a small, shy little tabby, who might be healthy enough to make the trip to the fair, as well. She mentally calculated how many crates she'd need. Stella would have to drive her pickup.

She took a deep breath and tried to keep from worrying. If she didn't place them this go-around, she would the next. She wouldn't think about Archer and his demands on her time... or her future. She'd made a pact with herself that for tonight she'd simply pretend all was normal. At least for a few, blessed hours.

Right now all she was looking forward to was heading into the house, stealing some of Baleweg's herb m.u.f.fins-one high point of having him around was he'd turned out to be a marvelous cook-and sinking into bed with a book. A biography maybe, or something on animal behavior. Definitely not fiction. She was getting enough of that in real life, thank you.

She whistled for the two dogs, who were wrestling over a stick. She shook the box of dog bones and whistled again, laughing as they immediately dropped the stick and trotted over to her. ”Always suckers for a treat, you two.” She tossed them each a small milk bone, then slapped her thigh and opened the gate that led to the inside runs. ”Come on.” She'd put them next to each other, which seemed to be working out well.

Once they were safely in for the night, she made the rest of her rounds, checking for tipped-over water and any other possible problems. Satisfied that all was well, if not entirely peaceful, she let herself out the end door.

”Do the rowdy blodgers ever all sleep at the same time? A fella has a harder

time sleeping out here in the middle of nowhere than in the city.”

Talia let out a little squeal, then swung around to find Archer leaning against the fence.

”Didn't mean to startle you.”

”How long have you been there?”

He effortlessly vaulted his rangy body over the top. ”Long enough,” he said.

She didn't want to know long enough for what. She did know she wasn't ready

to be alone with him again. She had no experience dealing with men like him, not that she could imagine there were other men like him. ”Why are you out here?”

”You didn't think I was going to let you wander out here in the dark

unprotected, did you?”

He'd made his case for staying and she'd grudgingly admitted to herself, especially after their talk about Dideon and Emrys, that he might be right. But just because she needed his protection, didn't mean she had to like it. ”Well, I'm done now,” she said shortly, ”so you can punch the clock.”

”I beg your pardon? Punch what?”

She looked to see if he was teasing her, but he appeared serious. ”It's an expression. Means 'to clock out, punch your time card, stop working for the day.'

He shrugged. ”I don't punch a clock, as you say. I work as long as there is

work to be done.”Lovely. A workaholic mercenary. Just what she needed. ”Well, you can do what you want. I'm heading in for the night.”

She glanced up to the house. The left tower-room window glowed. Baleweg was still up. And Archer had taken over the hammock on the porch. She'd offered him one of the other upstairs rooms that first night, when it became clear he was intending to stay along with Baleweg. But he'd told her that the hammock was the best place for him strategically. She'd shrugged and left him to it. Actually, she'd been relieved.

The idea of Archer under the same roof as herself, even though the house was enormous, was a little too unsettling. Not that knowing he was directly beneath her window had left her feeling all that settled.

”Don't you name the little battlers?” he asked.

”Excuse me?”

He nodded to the kennel, where the dogs were not so quietly settling in for the

night. ”The mongrels you so willingly give shelter to. You never call them by

name.”

She definitely didn't want to get into this discussion. d.a.m.n him for being so observant anyway. ”I use general terms, like boy, girl, buddy, whatever.”

”Don't they tell you their names, then?”

She looked sharply at him. ”They don't 'tell' me anything.”

He shrugged, not remotely abashed by her reaction. ”I don't claim to

understand your gift. Not really.”