“He was still, he believed, in shock. But he was feeling better. Serena had ladled out some of the stew cooking over the fire and it had more than met up to the promise of the aroma. He was sated, and warm. He’d pinched himself a dozen times. He’d set his hands near the fire, and felt the heat. It was all real. It wasn’t a dream or an alcohol-induced nightmare. Serena was real. And she was handling the shock of this situation with far more aplomb than he. Then again, she was the witch who had ca...used it all, wasn’t she? But she was so beautiful. And matter-of-fact. And she’d had a talent for making him feel as if he were at home here. It did ease it all somewhat. “That was one of the finest meals I have ever eaten. Thank you,” Mark told her. She glanced up. She was seated across the room from him, a cloth-bound journal in her hands. “Thank you,” she said, blushing prettily. “I have my own herb garden, and we preserve our vegetables, you know. The meat is fresh. Hank Janey from just down the road brings me deer meat and fowl.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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