"He's my hero." There was another pause.
In person, Bran doesn't think out his comments as much.
The phone is difficult because wolves communicate so much with their bodies.
"That is the most romantic thing I've ever heard you say," Bran said.
"Be careful, Adam, or you'll turn her into a real girl." Adam looked at me.
"I like her just the way she is, Bran." And he meant it, greasy overalls, broken fingernails, and all.
Bran laughed, then stopped.
"Take care of my son.
And don't wait until it is too late to call me." He hung up.
"Thank you," I told Adam.
He put his cell phone away.
"I didn't do it for you," he said.
"Wolf in charge or not, Samuel obviously isn't as dangerous as most of us would be.
There are some advantages to being very old.
But the letter of the law is what Bran has to follow.
If he knew exactly what was going on, he'd have to carry out the sentence." "You don't?" Adam shrugged.
"I guess I'm not much for following orders as written.
I prefer the spirit to the letter of the law." I'd never thought of him that way.
I should have remembered .
.
.
the line between black and white is the one he draws.
I looked down.
"So, I suppose an apology is too little, too late." "What are you planning on apologizing for? `Dear Adam, I'm so sorry I tried to keep you from knowing that Samuel lost it'? `I'm sorry I used the problems between us to drive you away so I could deal with it'? Or, and this one is my favorite, `I'm sorry I couldn't tell you what was going on, but I couldn't trust you to deal with it the way I wanted it dealt with'?" He'd started out sounding amused, but by the last one his voice was sharp enough to cut leather.
I kept quiet.
I do know how to do that.
Sometimes.
When I'm in the wrong.
He sighed.
"I don't think an apology will do, Mercy.