And wasn’t he using them?
“What’s her name?”
“I’ve been calling her Little Lady.”
“Little Lady,” he cooed. “And aren’t you just?”
Artemis’s eyes rolled toward the sky.
If a donkey could look utterly besotted, Little Lady did.
“She likes you.” Her tone was most definitely pettish.
Bran cut her a quick glance. “Why shouldn’t she?”
Why, indeed?
OfcourseLittle Lady liked him.
Artemis liked him, too.
Too much.
“Now.” His attention on Little Lady, he reached out and took the lead rope from Artemis.
She tried to ignore the brush of their fingers.
“Shall we try to move along?”
Artemis nodded, but she didn’t want to move along.
She was beginning to see Little Lady’s point.
If they didn’t move along, they could stay right here and live in this moment where no secrets or lies from the past could intrude.
They could exist forever in this uncomplicated Arcadia.
He and Artemiswere engaged in a dance, Bran understood that.
Two people warily circling the fringes of a relationship, whether that be friendship or something else.
There were their past selves, still hanging about, but also fading.
And there were their present selves, as they faced one another.
Two people shadowed by the past, but—possibly—no longer prisoners of it.
Two people who could—again,possibly—come to know each other as they were now.
After all, they’d already made a start.
An impatient snort sounded at his side.Little Lady.She didn’t appreciate his attention being diverted elsewhere. He reached into his pocket for another sugar lump.
A snort came from his side. “Oh, wiles,” Artemis said, with equal parts annoyance and good humor.
How he liked her like this.
“Shall we?” he asked both ladies, wrapping the lead loosely around his hand.
