"Elfhelm has a valid point, Eomer." Aragorn's voice was quiet.
Eomer growled in response, and glowered at the other man, then at Elfhelm and Eothain, the other two men gathered in his study. Frustrated, he stood, paced around his desk. "I know. I know he does. I just don't want him to be right."
"A traitor at Meduseld is the only way the orcs would have known your exact location."
Elfhelm wasn't any happier than Eomer. "Before you told me what the boy and the woman overheard from the orc camp, I would not have thought so. But they were looking for you. They knew you'd be in that area."
"Many in that area obviously knew I was there. It could have been anyone." There was no reply, and he knew why – they were waiting him out. Waiting for him to draw the same conclusions they'd already come to.
It made sense. Despite his words of a moment before, he had to admit that the theory was sound. How had the orcs gotten themselves organized to attack the way they did – and then do a methodical search for him – if they had not known he would be there, in that area of the Westfold? Nothing about the initial confrontation, when he'd been separated from his men, had ever felt like a random attack.
But the thought of there being a traitor in Edoras was completely galling.
"You have no idea of who it might be?" There was sympathy in Aragorn's eyes, and Eomer turned from it.
"No. All my men are loyal." He knew that. Depended on that. If it wasn't true…
Eothain nodded slowly. "I believe he's right. Most of the Royal Guard were in Eomer's eored, and are very loyal to him."
Eomer felt a slightly sick sense of relief to hear Eothain voice the words. He did not doubt his men. But the possibility of a traitor, of someone who lived in Edoras or was attached to Meduseld being willing to betray him to his death had unsettled him.
"….but there are a lot of new faces in and about Edoras these days, and we do not know them all. It would not have been hard for someone to discover your plans," Elfhelm added.
Eomer reluctantly nodded. "I do not know them all," he repeated, "so how could I ever guess who might wish to see me dead?"
Silence fell.
Eomer turned to Aragorn. "You told me that you came to the Riddermark because you saw the orcs moving this way in the seeing stone. How many were there?"
Aragorn slowly shook his head. "I don't know. Hundreds, possibly. The palantir does not always provide as much precision as I would like."
Eomer nodded, sighed. "That means that we don't know how many of them might still be out there, or what their next move will be. And we still have no idea who's organizing them!" Frustrated, he paced around again. "You said you though it might be one of the uruk-hai that escaped, but if so, why wasn't he in the battle at the caves?"
Aragorn shook his head. "I do not know. And I could also be mistaken about it being one of the uruks."
Another long silence, and then Eomer looked up. "I will send out riders tomorrow, to see what we can learn. I know of nothing else to do."
They nodded, and Eomer turned and stalked out of his study, knowing none of the other men would take offense at his rudeness. His frustration was mounting. The Mark was under attack, and he didn't know why, wasn't even certain who was behind it. The orcs themselves, while willing to fight for any evil, would not have been able to organize such an attack.
He strode through the main hall, wondering where Lisswyn was. He still hadn't seen her. That was frustrating, too. As worried as he was about the orcs, their presence also meant he wasn't free to go to Dol Amroth and Gondor and clear things with Imrahil and Faramir.
A maid he encountered in the hall nervously moved away from him, and he realized he was scowling. That was one of the most annoying things about being King – an honest expression of frustration or unhappiness from him could cause all kinds of mayhem behind his back.
He reached the middle of the hall and looked around. No Lisswyn…but he did see two rather woebegone figures at one of the side tables. He walked over, sat down with them.
Eoden looked dejected, Andric looked to be on the verge of tears, and Eomer's frustration with himself increased. These two needed to be kept busy, at least part of the time, or their grief would overwhelm them. He should have made time for them first thing.
"How are you?" He looked at Andric, and the boy swallowed, shrugged.
"Some of the women from Edoras arrived a short while ago with clothing for us. Lisswyn and the others are all off with them." Eoden sounded very much as if the idea of looking at clothing was a form of torture.
Eomer hid a smile. It probably would be, for the two boys. He was glad for the women's sake that the women of Edoras had come through, though. "Then now is a good time to tell you what I thought you two might put your hands to."
They looked up at him, Andric looking a little more interested than Eoden. "Yes, sire?"
"Much has changed at Edoras in the past year." There was twinge of sadness as he thought of his uncle, of Theodred, Hama, Gamling, dozens and dozens more. "As you know, many good men were lost during the war, and that's resulted in some rearrangements. One of the areas currently lacking is the stables. I need for you two to help out there."
Andric looked delighted, as Eomer had expected. Eoden frowned. "What's wrong, Eoden?"
The boy flushed, looked away, then back. "Nothing, sire."
Eomer cocked an eyebrow at him, waited.
The flush deepened. "I thought I would be joining an eored."
Eomer nearly winced, forced it away. Did the boy not understand how young he still was? No, of course not. He'd been in battle, had lived through a battle. And wanted to fight. Keenly aware of Eoden's pride, Eomer spoke slowly. "And so you will be, when you're a little older."
He saw the resentment come and go, and could almost hear the boy's thoughts.
"Eoden – what did I tell you about how you fought in that battle?"
Clearly embarrassed, Eoden dropped his head. "That I fought well."
"And you did. You fought as well as anyone I've even seen in their first battle, and I mean that sincerely." Eomer's voice firmed. "But one battle does not a warrior make. You still have much to learn, with the sword, a spear, a bow – and you must learn to do it all from horseback, if you are to ride with me."
Eoden's head snapped up. "Ride with you?"
"I would be honored for you to do so – once you've mastered the rest of those skills. And you'll start with the horses. I know you can ride, but you need more experience in the saddle before you can take your weapons training there. And yes, there will be more weapons training – but not for a while yet."
Eoden slowly nodded, and Eomer suspected he would completely devote himself to horses for the foreseeable future. He looked at Andric, wondered if he'd see jealousy there. But all he saw was a look of impatience. The younger boy was already devoted to horses, and wanted nothing more than to get to the stables.
Eomer stood, motioned them to follow him. He would indulge him.
By the time he left the stables nearly an hour later, Eomer was feeling much more settled. Breghelm, with his steadfast patience and quiet loyalty, had that effect on him. In the midst of facing the reality of a traitor in Edoras, it was good for him to have spent time with the man who had been another father to him. It had also cheered him to see the older man and Maegwen's boys take to one another.
But thoughts of Breghelm's loyalty lead too easily back to the thought that somewhere, there was someone who was not, and he sighed as he walked back toward Meduseld. He nodded to those he passed, mentally identifying them, and giving sharp looks at those he didn't know, or realized he didn't know well. As Elfhelm had said, there were too many of them.
The members of his guard were loyal. He could not bring himself to question that. Most of them he had grown up with; they'd been members of his eored before he became king. But he was less sure of the rest of the household, the other folk of Edoras. Even some of the men in Elfhelm's eored, which was based at Edoras, were new and unknown to him.
It could be anyone, at least anyone with access to a horse – since the traitor had presumably followed him and his guard when they'd left Edoras heading toward the Westfold. Had followed and then gotten word to the orcs somehow. He frowned. That wasn't particularly helpful, though, given that nearly everyone at Edoras had access to a horse.
Depressed again, he moved slowly through the hall as his eyes adjusted to the darker environment. And then he saw Lisswyn, standing near the table where he'd encountered the boys earlier, and felt his spirits lift in spite of himself.
His pace quickened, and she looked up as she heard his approach. But instead of the welcoming smile he had hoped to see, he saw alarm and distress. "Sire! Have you seen the boys? I left them here, asked them to wait for me, and—"
Cursing silently for not having guessed she'd wonder where they were, he cut her off. "They're in the stables."
Her shoulders sagged with relief as he reached her side, and he ran a soothing hand up and down her arm. "I'm sorry. I should have realized you would be looking for them. I came out of a meeting and found them sitting out here, and it seemed as good a time as any to introduce them to Breghelm."
She gave him a weak smile, and sighed as she ran her hand over her face. Then to his relief, she laughed. "It is not your fault, though it would have been nice if they had remembered I would want to know where they'd gotten to." Her smile was stronger now, if a bit wry. "I daresay they couldn't get into too much trouble here, anyway."
Having once been a boy in the hall, he knew she was wrong in that assumption, but did not want to erase the smile she wearing by pointing it out. Instead, he smiled at her. "I will take you out to the stables later and introduce you to Breghelm. He and the boys are going to do quite well together, I think."
Her smile grew. "Thank you for that."
It occurred to him that even with her alarm over the boys, he'd never seen her look so relaxed, and his own tension further drained away at the sight of her smile. Then his eyes dropped, and he took in the rest of her. She was wearing one of Eowyn's dresses, and had obviously been in the midst of having it pinned up for hemming when she had come looking for the boys.
He didn't miss the significance of Eowyn clothing Lisswyn in her own dress, and for a moment, emotion clogged his throat. Thank you, Eowyn. His sister never did things half-heartedly, and the dress represented …everything. Others would see that as well, and relief and gratitude blinded him for a moment.
Then he took a closer look, and swallowed for another reason. The dress had not been particularly attractive on Eowyn, but that was not the case with Lisswyn. The color looked very different on her. It made the red in her hair, which he loved, more obvious, somehow, even in the dim light of the hall. And it fit her more snugly. Lisswyn was built a little differently than his sister, something quite apparent in the dress. There was nothing immodest about it, but it was nonetheless more revealing than the somewhat loose and shapeless dresses he'd seen her in so far.
Aware that his heart was beating harder, he clenched his fists at his side, and stepped back another step, wanting desperately to touch her. But now was not the time or place. He forced himself to meet her eyes. She blushed, and looked away from him. "The women of Edoras have been most kind to us in the matter of clothing."
"I recognized the dress." He managed a smile. "It looks much better on you than it did my sister." His voice husky, he finished, "You look lovely."
Still blushing, she looked back at him, a shy expression on her face. "Thank you. I thought to wear it this evening."
Eomer nodded. He would have to keep a close eye on her. Other men would surely notice her as well, an idea he found completely unacceptable. He had to figure out a way to deal with the orcs so he could go to Gondor!
The rest of the morning had passed quickly, and it was late when the women settled at the tables in the hall for a quick lunch of bread and cheese.
"The noon meal is normally more substantial," said the woman to Lisswyn's right. "But the kitchen is no doubt concentrating on the food for tonight's feast."
Lisswyn nodded, and turned to slice a piece of the warm, fragrant bread for Brynwyn. What was the woman's name? There had been so many of them. It seemed as if half the women of Edoras had arrived that morning with clothes for her and the rest of the refugees. The generosity had been overwhelming, but it had been difficult to keep track of the names.
Finally giving up, she turned back, offered the woman an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I cannot remember your name."
The woman laughed merrily. "I'm not surprised. I'm not certain we were even introduced. There was quite a group of us." She turned away for a moment to help her own children with their meals. In addition to an infant on her lap who looked to be a few months old, she had a toddler – a little boy with a mischievous look about him – and a little girl a year or two older than Brynwyn. The little girl took the slices of bread and cheese and began quite competently to feed her little brother while also taking generous bites for herself.
The smile was still there when the woman looked back, and it seemed so natural, Lisswyn suspected she was naturally good-natured. "I'm Ceolwyn, wife of Eothain."
"The captain of the king's guard." It surprised her, somehow, to think of the grim warrior wed to this cheerful and lively woman.
Humor was still in Ceolwyn's eyes. "I know. We seem an unlikely match."
Not wanting to offend, Lisswyn cleared her throat. "He seems to be a very …capable warrior."
The smile faltered for the first time, and Ceolwyn's voice was soft when she spoke again. "The last few days have not been easy for him. Seeing Eomer-king struck by the arrow and presumed dead, with Eothain unable to reach him – it took a toll on him. Beyond the king's safety being his duty, they've been friends since childhood."
"It was not his fault. The king said so."
"That would not matter to Eothain," Ceolwyn said dryly.
Before Lisswyn would come up with a response, two other women joined them at the table. The older one, Alfild, she'd met earlier, but she didn't know the second woman.
Lisswyn smiled, prepared to introduce herself, when Alfild spoke.
"Your people all have enough clothes now?"
"Yes. Everyone has been most generous."
"Charity is important. In Edoras, we take care of the unfortunates who cannot care for themselves."
Heat burned Lisswyn's cheeks as the insult registered. A closer look at the spiteful gleam in Alfild's eyes told her that unlike Lady Eowyn, Alfild had been deliberately insulting. But why? In every conversation she'd had, Lisswyn had tried to make it clear that they intended to contribute to the needs of the city, to give back, to do their share.
Ceolwyn was stiff beside her, and Hilde, on the other side of Brynwyn, shifted. Furious, but afraid Hilde would say something to make the situation worse and alienate the other women, Lisswyn kept her tone even. "That is very wise, as you can never tell when you might unexpectedly become one of those unfortunates."
Alfild stared at her, her eyes narrowing. Abruptly, she stood, motioned to her companion. "Come, Edlyn. I do not believe we wish to take our meal here, after all."
Still angry and confused, Lisswyn watched her go. What had been behind that? Taking a breath, she turned back to Ceolwyn, now unsure of what to expect from the other woman.
"You handled that very well," Ceolwyn said, and temper sparked in her eyes. "Alfild can be a difficult piece of work."
Some of Lisswyn's tension drained away. "I don't understand what was behind it. Does she not believe that we intend to do our part?"
Ceolwyn shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Alfild lives to put others down. She's the widow of a distant cousin of the King, on his father's side, and relocated here a few years ago from the Eastfold. She plays the 'royal family' connection hard and heavy, ignoring the fact that everyone knows she is not really blood kin of Eomer-King and the Lady, and that they allow her to stay merely out of respect to their father's cousin, as Eomund was an only child and had few relations. The real irony of her insult toward you is that she contributes very little to life here, preferring to spend her days gossiping and criticizing others. She chooses not to notice just how hard everyone but her works, including the King and the lady."
Troubled, Lisswyn watched Alfild and Edlyn settled themselves at a different table. Would the King or Lady Eowyn take offense at Lisswyn's response to the woman? No, she decided. She'd said nothing that wasn't true.
"Don't let her upset you," Ceolwyn continued. "Although it's not safe to completely ignore her, as there are those who listen to her gossip even if they don't like her themselves, most people know her for what she is."
Lisswyn slowly nodded. "There was a woman similar to her in our village when I was a child. She spread misery, and everyone knew it, but some still listened to her."
"That's it, exactly."
Fighting off a bout of homesickness, Lisswyn reached for a slice of bread. Most of the women had been nothing but kind and welcoming. She and the rest of the women from the caves would find their places here, would figure out how to make Edoras home.
The great hall was already crowded when Lisswyn arrived that evening. She'd spent the rest of the afternoon altering dresses – not just hemming the ones Eowyn had given her, but assisting the other women as well. And all the while, she'd smiled, choosing to remember the conversation with the King rather than focus on the unpleasant encounter with Alfild. The memory of the heat in his gaze when he'd seen her in the dress caused her blush to come back, even as it also caused her heart to beat in a nearly painful fashion.
But now, seeing similar looks in the eyes of a few of the other men congregating in the great hall for the celebration, she wished she'd worn one of the other dresses.
With the soldiers from Gondor increasing their numbers, there were far too many people in the hall for everyone to sit, so they would be rotating, with some sitting and eating while others stood around chatting, and then the groups reversing.
She was leaning against one of the great pillars near a table where some of the other women from the caves were sitting, waiting for the festivities to begin. Noting the frankly appreciative look of another man – this one much older – Lisswyn moved a little further back into the shadows. His stare reminded her too much of the way her uncle had looked at her.
The number of apparently unattached men in Edoras surprised her. She had expected that the same situation would exist here as in the village, with a great many more women than men, simply due to the number of men who'd been lost in the war. But that did not seem to be the case, and it baffled her.
On the other hand, Thedhelm had staked out the seat next to Brecka, and was sending off clear messages of "mine!" to the men around him, which Brecka didn't seem to mind in the least. Lisswyn knew the other girl was still grieving for her lost twin – would always do so – and it made Lisswyn smile to see her with the young warrior.
"Once the dancing begins, there will be more room to sit down."
Lisswyn turned, and realized that another of the women she'd met briefly that morning was now standing next to her. What was her name? Ah. Wynne. She was the sister of Elfhelm, whose eored was based in Edoras. Ceolwyn had told her that Wynne's husband, Hama, had died in the spring.
"I don't mind standing. It makes it easier to see everyone," Lisswyn said, smiling.
Wynne grimaced, but humor lurked in her eyes. "And there's a lot to see, between our lot and the Gondorians." She turned, looked more fully at Lisswyn. "I'm sorry I was unable to stay longer this morning. My youngest daughter is ill, and I did not wish to be away from her for long. You have adequate garments now?"
It was the same question Alfild had asked, but the tone was very different.
"Absolutely. Everyone has been very kind to us."
"Good." The humor became more pronounced. "A lot of them are hoping the fact that you're a weaver means new clothes for them." Her gaze dropped, took in the dress Lisswyn was wearing. When she looked back up, there was a speculative look in her eyes.
Confused by the look, Lisswyn smiled uncertainly. "I'll be happy to oblige them as soon as someone points me towards a loom and explains how I come by the wool."
"Harvest is the priority for the next few weeks, but Betta will probably show you the loom and wheel, and Ealdred will explain about acquiring the wool and trading what you make."
Lisswyn nodded, still confused, and turned back to watch the people in the hall. When she glanced over a moment later, Wynne was gone. Puzzled by the other woman's abruptness, though she'd sensed none of the hostility in her that Alfild had displayed, Lisswyn shook her head. Life in Edoras was going to take some getting used to.
She saw the boys come in, accompanied by an older man who must be Breghelm. It looked as if they were both fresh out of a bath, which amused her. Maegwen had struggled with them on occasion, particularly Andric, in an effort to convince them of the value of soap and water. Apparently Breghelm had resources their mother had not had. Access to horses, probably, she reflected somewhat wryly.
Thoughts of Maegwen made her throat want to close, and Lisswyn was glad for the distraction of a stir at the front of the hall. Everyone in the room turned, watched as the King mounted the dais in front of his throne. Lisswyn caught her breath. How impossibly handsome he looked! His hair was down, shining gold in the light, and his tunic, stretched taut across his broad chest, was of dark green velvet, embroidered with gold.
The room went silent, and she marveled that he could command such a response without saying a word. He was looking around, saw his gaze touch on the boys, then Brynwyn, sitting next to Hilde at the same table as Brecka and Thedhelm. Then she realized he was looking for her, and her heart leapt. Unable to repress a smile, she moved out of the shadows, felt the smile deepen when that warm look landed on her.
Only then did he speak. "We gather together tonight to celebrate the friendship between the Riddermark and Gondor." King Elessar joined him on the dais, and for the first time, Lisswyn noted that Eowyn was also standing next to the King. "If it were not for the faithful friendship of Gondor, I would not be standing among you this night." He looked over at Elessar, and bowed his head, then held out his hand. The other man returned the bow, then clasped Eomer-King's arm.
Cheers broke out, and Lisswyn smiled to see the Eorlingas turning to the soldiers of Gondor standing near them, personal thanks on their lips.
The room finally went quiet again when it was clear that the King still had more to say.
"We also gather to remember those who died in this latest battle. In addition to four of my guard who died when we initially attacked by the orcs," his gaze touched on a table near the front, and Lisswyn guessed that that was where relatives of the slain men were sitting, "a village in the Westfold, including a young woman named Theda, was destroyed for no other reason than that they did not know where I was."
His eyes moved back to Brecka, rested on her as her head snapped up, as tears came into her eyes at his mention of her twin's name. Then, as Lisswyn watched, Thedhelm leaned over and said something to the girl, and she looked up at him and smiled, despite the tears on her cheeks.
Lisswyn swallowed a knot in her own throat. It was a precious gift the King had just given Brecka – remembering Theda in front of all of Edoras.
He was continuing, his voice quiet. "It's hard to know we're still losing good men and women in such a fashion, when last spring we celebrated what we thought, what we hoped, would be the permanent end of such attacks."
Silence fell again, and there was a sad element to it.
"But we were not defeated then, and we are not defeated now." His tone was stronger now. "If I am alive due to Gondor's friendship, I am also alive because a group of women and children, living in caves, put my life and safety ahead of their own, continued to do so, even once we knew of the loss of the village."
"This is who we are," he said simply. Nodding to the boys, he motioned them to come up to him. Looking a bit startled, they did so, and he turned them to room, rested his hands on their shoulders. "We are these two, who went out amongst the orcs, without weapons, hoping to find some of my men." He looked up, met Lisswyn's gaze. "We are a small group of women – and these two – who were willing to sacrifice themselves to the orcs to save their friends, to save other children. Would gladly have done so to save me, had I allowed it."
He squeezed the boys' shoulders. "And we are the mother of these two, a woman named Maegwen, who was one of those who fought, as bravely as the husband and two sons she'd already lost in the battle with Mordor." He looked down at the boys, then up at Lisswyn.
He glanced over at Liffild. "And we are the women who, against their own desires to stay and fight, left, in order to protect children – one yet unborn, whose father also died last spring."
"Maegwen didn't make it," he said quietly. "And we grieve her loss, the loss of my men who died, the loss of the villagers. The loss of countless others even now we're unaware of – men and women who died bravely, quietly."
"And yet, the fact that we lost them, that we've lost so many good people over the past year, who died making the sacrifices which allow us to stand here – that is something the orcs and their like will never understand. It is who we are." His voice rose, was more determined. "It is why we were not defeated last spring, and why we are not defeated now."
A deafening cheer rose up, and Lisswyn swallowed hard against the tears that wanted to come. She tried to imagine Maegwen's reaction to being so honored by the king, and couldn't. A tear trickled out and down her cheek, and she turned, slipped out one of the side doors of the great hall. She needed a few moments of quiet to settle herself.
The door led to a passage that ran beside and opened into the room they'd slept in, and then led outside, to the walkway that ran around Meduseld. It exited to the outside in an alcove between the two guest rooms, and she leaned there, grateful for the quiet.
She'd never expected the King to honor Maegwen in such a fashion. She loved the fact that he had, but hearing him do so had brought the grief back.
From the dais, Eomer saw the tear fall, saw Lisswyn slip out and away, and his heart sank. The last thing he'd wanted to do was to cause her more pain.
He looked around. The room was now in full celebration mode, and as he eased through the crowd, he heard bits and pieces of different conversations, noted that on one side of the room, knights of Gondor and Rohan were gearing up for a drinking contest, while on the other side, men were pushing tables aside for a dancing area.
He slipped out, followed Lisswyn.
She was leaning against the wall, tucked just back from the walkway. Someone could walk around the building and not really see her, but her position allowed her to see out, to see the moon rising over the mountains.
Not wanting to startle her, he quietly cleared his throat.
She wiped her face, turned. "Sire." She seemed to know why he'd followed her. "I'm fine. I just needed some air."
He covered the last few steps between them, and stood before her, gazing down at her in the moonlight. With a gentle finger, he touched her cheek. "It was not my intention to make you sad."
"You didn't." She cleared her throat. "It was a wonderful thing you did. The boys will always remember it. So will Brecka." Another tear escaped, but she smiled up at him. "And Maegwen would have loved the fact that you mentioned her husband and the older boys, too." She took a breath. "I just still miss her, so much."
"I know." And then he pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her. She rested her head on his chest, and he noted that she no longer offered any resistance to his comfort, to his touch. She sighed, snuggled against him. The gesture of trust moved him, and he leaned down, pressed a kiss into her hair.
"I like it when you do that," she murmured.
"Do you?" His voice was soft. "What about when I do this?" He pulled back just a little, enough to raise her chin. And then he kissed her.
He hadn't intended to. His plan, such as it was, had been not to touch her again until the situation with Imrahil and Faramir was resolved, until he was completely free to pursue the relationship he desired with her. But how could he not hold her, not offer her comfort for the loss of her friend? And once holding her, feeling her pressed against him – especially now that he'd seen her in the dress – how could he not kiss her?
He brushed her lips, delighted in how quickly she parted hers for him, how she responded. There was no hesitation this time, and she welcomed him as he took the kiss deeper. Her hands were trapped between them, splayed on his chest, and she was rubbing them against him.
He raised his head, took an unsteady breath, buried his face in her hair again as he waited for his heart to settle.
"Very much," she whispered through ragged breaths.
His brain felt like mush, and it took a moment for him to remember he'd asked her if she liked his kisses. His laugh was a bit unsteady. "That's good." He raised his head, then tilted her chin up. "Lisswyn—" he started, then stopped. No. He couldn't. It wasn't fair to her. He wanted desperately to speak to her of the future, but it wouldn't be wise. Not yet. Much better to wait until things were completely clear with Dol Amroth. "Never mind," he finished softly.
He pressed a kiss on her forehead, and stepped away from her. "I must return inside. Will you come back as well? I do not like the thought of you out here by yourself."
She smiled, nodded, and he realized her lips were a bit swollen from his kiss. He doubted anyone would notice, but best not take the chance of their being seen coming back in together. He motioned back to the door they'd come through. "You go on back in. I need to check something out front first." She nodded again, started to step away. He stopped her as she started to pass him, and dropped another quick kiss on her mouth before moving in the opposite direction.
A/N: In light of policy against authors responding to reviews publicly, I'm no longer going to do so, at least not by mentioning people by name. I don't want to risk getting in trouble! However, I've seen no policy against author notes, and it only makes sense to me that if people ask questions or make comments that I think should be responded to publicly (in terms of clarifying something for others as well) I will continue to do so. Beyond that, I will respond directly to comments and questions via reviewer's email addresses if you leave a signed review. And for all of you, please know how much I value each and every comment.
One general response: When I've referred to the story as complete, I meant that it's finished in an original draft on my computer. The whole thing. I am revising it as I'm posting it, which is why I generally only get a chapter or so a week up, but the whole thing will eventually be posted. I couldn't bear to post this much and then drop it, as I want to know what you make of the end. LOL.