The records in the house I really remember were, well, Glen Campbell's 'Wichita Lineman' and 'Galveston.' Even as a kid, I knew these songs were glorious. My dad also had records by Merle Haggard, Charley Pride, Waylon Jennings, and then there was also the Eagles and Don Henley. Anything Texas, which includes Don Henley, was big.
Nate came back into the kitchen, his hair slightly messy from having had the beanie on. The gray thermal Henley he wore gave him a rugged, all-man look that made her heart skip a couple beats. For someone who was the opposite of her type, he sure was hard not to look at. Add the quiet sense of humor she'd seen last night and delivering chocolate chips, and he'd tiptoed into perfect territory.
There would therefore have been all the more delight at the birth of the first son William within less than a year of Margaret's death, tinged with more than a little anxiety, in view of the fateful words hic incepit pestis, 'here began plague', in the burial part of the register three months later. Just how close this dread flea-borne disease was to the Shakespeares can be guaged from the fact that their Henley Street neighbour Roger Green lost four of his children and town clerk Richard Symons three. One estimate suggests that the town lost around two hundred, or about fifteen per cent, of its population during this single outbreak. It is a sobering thought how much the world could have lost at this time by one ill-chanced flea-bite.
Hazed by pleasure, Nix still had to know. This could be his last chance. 'Nikolai, ' he said thickly. 'Tell me about Nikolai.' Roark's hand drifted down over Nix's pale torso. He eyed Nix wryly. 'You have his persistence, ' he allowed wryly. His eyes flickered on Nix's hot face. Everything hidden behind them even as he spoke. 'Very well. He was a genius. He was a ... thug. He was night and day. He could be kindness itself to a stranger, and yet the next day would bathe in that stranger's blood. And if you tear the shirt from Henley's back, you will doubtless find Nikolai's name carved there. Nikolai became mine, and I his, for five hundred years.' Roark's striking face was smooth, expressionless. Enigmatic. 'They were five hundred years of heaven. Five hundred years of hell. I can tell you no more. Not right now. Is that enough?
Jae T. Jaggart