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Taking Chances, by E. L. Van Hine and L.H. Nicoll
MaineWriter:
Thank you, Betty! I am a little behind on my quoting this morning...
This is from Chapter 75:
“Ellery…” Ennis said, the crease between his eyebrows telling Ellery how worried Ennis still was. Ellery smiled faintly at him.
“Don’t let’s talk about it now, okay? Let’s just eat, have some beers. It’s over, sweetheart.”
“Yeah. You sure?”
Ellery nodded, not daring to speak further, for fear of getting back into it. It was useless, really. Worrell had been caught, Ennis was alive and unharmed, the horse was back in her stall…there was only one man who has killed Jack Twist, and he was under police guard at Ivinson, to be arraigned as soon as his ribs set and the doctor cleared him to be moved to the county jail. This much, he already knew. What he didn’t know was when the ache inside him was going to lessen. They rose, and Ennis reached for the door, letting it go as Ellery’s hand slid over his and closed, and he pressed his body against him, one arm reaching around his stomach and pulling him close. “I love you sweetheart,” he whispered, then let his hand go, dropping the embracing arm.
Ennis turned, eyes bright, and looked into the steel grey eyes so close, raising a hand to his face and brushing his cheek with his thumb and forefinger. “I love you, darlin. An I am awful, awful sorry. Please.”
Ellery shook his head once more, his black hair tumbling around his face, making him look young and petulant. “No need, let’s go.”
L
MaineWriter:
And a bit more from chapter 75:
“Yeah, I know,” he sighed, staring at the neck of his beer as if it were something he had never seen before.
Ennis was working his way through the sandwiches at a satisfying speed. “You bakin biscuits?”
She smiled, back on familiar territory. “Yep, and fried chicken for dinner. You boys are gonna stay aren’t you?”
“For dinner at least,” Ennis replied, glancing quickly at Ellery. “Wanna check on the horses an such after I finish here. You gonna eat or just stare at it Ellery?”
“Oh,” Ellery said, and stuck the end of his sandwich in his mouth as if he had forgotten why he was sitting there.
“You got ta come with so eat an hurry up, darlin,” Ennis muttered. Ellery raised an eyebrow and turned toward him. Edna smiled.
“I think how you two get along is just wonderful, considerin all you have been through this weekend. Try not ta worry too much, everythin is gonna be okay boys. I’ll leave ya alone now.” She got up and returned to her sanctum, the kitchen, where even now the smell of fresh biscuits was beginning to waft more definitely toward them.
“Smell a biscuits cause anything particular ta stir in you?” Ennis said in a low voice after Edna disappeared into the kitchen.
“Just a bit…” Ellery said, his face not giving anything away.
“Causes a mighty stirrin in me somehow,” he said, munching on another handful of chips. “Come on boy, yer eatin like a bird.”
“Feel like a bird right now, Ennis, my stomach ain’t cooperatin.”
“Okay then, come on, we’ll get some air.” And he hauled Ellery to his feet to drag him out to the stables, once his sanctum and retreat from the busy world of people, and now – the scene of his confrontation with Jack’s killer. He had to tell Ellery what had happened, in his own words.
L
belbbmfan:
--- Quote from: MaineWriter on January 09, 2007, 08:18:21 am ---Hola, re-readers! Today, 71-75...
http://louisev.livejournal.com/46573.html
Interestingly, this answers a question from the other day...Ellery's usual side of the bed is on the right.
--- End quote ---
Yes, i noticed that too!
and it really was cocoa Edna was serving :laugh: Well, and something stronger than that of course:
Wes didn’t say more until they were seated in his living room, and Edna offered both Ennis and Ellery a shot of brandy before handing out mugs of cocoa. Ellery downed his in a single swallow, collapsing into one of the recliners.
thought so...
mariez:
Good day, all! Jumpin' in while eating lunch -
Great quote choices everyone - thanks!
Aww... poor Ron Royal - I really liked him.
Poor Ellery! Poor Ennis! Oh my - I understand how they both feel. In talking about the wedding reception, Ellery recently mentioned something about the difficult patches he and Ennis have endured in the past few months - all these chapters are really bringing that back in full force! Difficult is an understatement!
And Bless Edna and her brandy and cocoa!
Marie
richardg49:
Surely we need also to re-read this climactic scene in Chapter 73, where Ennis finally comes face to face with Justin Worrell:
Ennis went into the barn, making his way through the gloom, turning on lights as he passed the stables, pausing at one where a new purchase, whom he had named “Nellie” because he was constantly saying “Whoa Nellie” when she reared, was pawing the floor of her stall impatiently, snorting from time to time. He patted his hand against the inside of the door to calm her, but it seemed to have the opposite effect and he saw her rear, the wide pink rims of her eyes as she glared at him. Nellie was having a hard time with mere confinement in a stall, it would seem. As he got past Nellie’s stall he heard a low sound... the snick of a bolt on a rifle, and a shadow separated itself at the end of the row of stalls.
“Stay right there, boy,” said a low, menacing voice.
Ennis stared into the gloom as Worrell stepped out, moving back against the door of Nellie’s stall, hearing her paw the floor once more in agitation. “What a you want, Worrell ? That’s yer name, ain’t it?”
He saw a flicker of a smile on the pale face, the wisps of blond hair under the wide black brim of his hat, the rifle aimed at his chest. “That’s my name, but I’m askin the questions. Why is Cantrell huntin me?”
“You... killed my man,” Ennis said, throat dry, hand rasping against the door of the stall, a helpless anger rising in him.
Worrell blinked. “Evelyn Wyatt?”
Ennis shook his head. Even at this distance, he could see the resemblance between them – the thin cheeks, the high forehead, but the clothes, the manner, the body language, even the voice and accent, markedly different... “No. Jack Twist.”
A smile flashed as Worrell took a step nearer. “Oh. Blue Eyes. Nice lookin guy, that Blue Eyes. Looks like he never got over ya.... you look a whole lot like me. Who are you, by the way?”
“My name is Del Mar. Ennis Del Mar.”
“Yeah, Blue Eyes an me... Jack you say. Yeah that was his name... nice lookin guy, too bad he had such a big mouth,” the voice chuckled. He seemed unworried, arrogant, almost gloating.
“You killed em.”
“Yeah well, some live, some die. He had ta die. Should know better than ta pick up a loud mouth salesman."
“That why ya did it? Cause you was afraid he was gonna tell yer secret?
The Ennis in the black hat nodded, taking another step closer, rifle still trained on Ennis’s chest. “I told em... an that’s what happens when ya can’t keep yer mouth shut, see, Del Mar. Now you got yer new boyfriend askin questions he shouldn’t ask, diggin around, so I had ta go huntin again. But now yer in the way too, so ---“
Ennis’s hand had tightened on the latch of Nellie’s stall as Worrell stepped nearer, and at his last step, he let the door swing free with a loud “Giddyap!” and Nellie bolted from the stall as Ennis dove behind it and dodged down the row of stalls, away from Worrell. He heard the shriek of the wild yearling, the crash of kicking hooves against the door, and the explosion of the rifle as it went off, a blur of brown color as Nellie dashed down to the opposite end of the stables, pawing at the floor of a far corner, snorting. And silence.
Ennis turned and made his way back, pressing himself against the doors of the stables, and stepped around Nellie’s door as he heard a loud groan. Worrell lay on the floor, blood staining his shirt, the rifle knocked from his hand. He grabbed the rifle, looking down. Worrell was still breathing, but in pain... he looked as if he had been kicked in the ribs – but he was out cold now.
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