From Sentence Examples
Is the ranch far from here?
He leaped from his horse.
What are you going to hide from me that I haven't already seen?
After that other people brought water from a brook and sprinkled the earth.
Unhitch those tugs, Zeb, and set me free from the buggy, so I can fight comfortably.
Is the gulf far from here?
She backed away from him.
We'll have to walk from here.
Water was dripping from the trees, and the grass was wet.
The sparkle faded from his eyes, leaving them soft sweet chocolate pools.
AdvertisementThe Christmas tree could only be seen from the back of the house, but that didn't matter.
She retrieved them from her purse and handed them to him.
Alex said from the doorway.
He got his satchel from the buggy and, opening it, took out two deadly looking revolvers that made the children shrink back in alarm just to look at.
Then he took from his pocket a sheet of paper on which some verses were written.
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He moved away from the tree.
Where did you come from?
A sweet voice called from another room.
He shut the door and walked away from the car.
AdvertisementHe got down from his horse and very gently took the little ones up in his big warm hands.
She pushed the thought from her mind and turned to him.
His gaze shifted away from her.
Sure, but we don't need that from the technology.
She started to rise from her chair.
AdvertisementThe only bait he could find was a bright red blossom from a flower; but he knew fishes are easy to fool if anything bright attracts their attention, so he decided to try the blossom.
Once you get away from him, stay away.
We were lucky to get away from those dreadful vegetable people.
From the foyer, they entered a huge room with a wide staircase that curved gracefully from the balcony on the second floor.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Alex watching her.
She felt dizzy from breathing off the top of her lungs.
When the back door closed, she emerged from her room.
The next moment a broad-leaved plant was jerked from the ground where it grew and held suspended in the air before the Wizard.
The school was more than a mile from their home, and the children trotted along as fast as their short legs could carry them.
From the garden it looked like an arbour.
They used to hang in long festoons from our porch, filling the whole air with their fragrance, untainted by any earthy smell; and in the early morning, washed in the dew, they felt so soft, so pure, I could not help wondering if they did not resemble the asphodels of God's garden.
From the desperate city you go into the desperate country, and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats.
There was little sound from the kitchen as well.
We can't call from here!
The day before they were scheduled to leave, Alex came home from work and asked to see the tickets.
Lisa rolled her face away from the bright window.
I sat at a table after randomly pulling half dozen books from the shelf.
How do we stop him from tracking us down?
I slipped from my mother's lap and almost ran toward them.
From time to time she smoothed the folds of her dress, and whenever the story produced an effect she glanced at Anna Pavlovna, at once adopted just the expression she saw on the maid of honor's face, and again relapsed into her radiant smile.
It was nearly dark and she was a good fifty miles from home.
The braids had to be untangled in order to shampoo the mud from her hair.
She gently worked her nightgown out from under him, hoping all the while that he wouldn't wake.
Who would wake from that sleeping body?
Martha yelled from below.
This is the only way, we say; but there are as many ways as there can be drawn radii from one centre.
Carmen took the picture from her hand and studied it.
Pushing the thought from her mind, she focused on Allen's visit last night.
Once the garage door was secured, she pulled away from the house.
The radio channel played nonsensical songs from the 60's in a barely successful mission to lift her spirits.
Only low brush could grow in so small a space... no trees to prevent a vehicle from plunging into the forested mountain ranges below and beyond.
That ridge was the only thing that had kept her from plunging over the edge... that and the man who was now glaring at her.
Cupping a hand to her mouth, she turned away from him.
She counted the seconds in tense silence, waiting for the sound of an explosion, but the only sound was a car approaching from below.
It's a long way to drive from Fayetteville, and then they'd have to bring you back in the morning.
Only luck had kept her from joining her family today.
The seclusion she knew well, having been brought up less than five miles from this house.
The movement caught Giddon's attention and he glanced from Tammy to Lisa with a puzzled expression.
She gripped him around the waist, wishing she could crush the breath from him.
Giddon exclaimed sharply and clawed a spider web from his face.
Far from the grouchy expression he had put on at the beginning of the ride, now his eyes flashed with humor, and his lips were twisted in a friendly smile.
On the other hand, if he wanted to harm her, he might snatch the stick from her and use it as a weapon against her.
Deep uncontrollable sobs squeezed the breath from her lungs.
She jerked her wrist from his hand and turned away, thankful at least for the warning.
With every second, they were getting farther from the safety of civilization.
She forced the subject from her mind.
Silently, Giddon emerged from the path, carrying a saddle and halter.
After a while Giddon and the driver emerged from the building.
They had to get away from here - back to the house where there were other people.
At least it was still sealed and it was from Connie.
Jumping from the bed, she dressed quickly and went to the kitchen.
She couldn't have been farther from the truth.
He stepped away from the team as she walked approached and she glared at him.
She lifted her head and wiped the tears from her eyes.
She rose from her chair and pushed it under the table.
Carrying a chair from the kitchen, she stretched to dust the top shelf of one of the bookcases beside the fireplace.
What will it be a month from now?
Gradually winter released its grip and flowers erupted from the ground in celebration of spring.
Half an hour later, her eyes swollen and her chest sore from sobbing, she turned her face up to the warm water in the shower.
Finally he pushed his plate aside and rose from the chair.
She indicated a cultivated area not far from where she was working.
She pushed away from the ground stiffly and rubbed at the sore muscles in her back while she surveyed the house.
He pulled his hands from behind his back and held them out to her.
She delicately plucked the kitten from his hand and cuddled it against her cheek.
Cade was beside her, lifting the towel from the hook and a pan from the dish rack.
He lifted his hat from the peg and clamped it on his head and then paused, one hand on the door while he studied her face.
His hands touched her waist and then he slipped his arms around her from behind and drew her back against his chest.
You can run away from him, stay in the same relationship, or set your foot down and get things back into control.
It was situated in such a way that it collected all the moisture from the hills and appeared to be planted in alfalfa.
He grasped her waist and lifted her bodily from the saddle.
She backed away from him, wiping her mouth as she threw him a poisonous look.
He jerked the saddlebags from the back of his horse and glowered at her.
She moved away from him and contemplated the creek absently.
It might be innocent to him, but it was far from that for her.
Cynthia removed the rag from her face and stared at her friend.
He parked the truck in front of the courthouse and turned to her, dragging a paper from his pocket.
He brushed a crumb from the seat and cleared his throat.
His face was a road map of emotion, traveling from puzzled, to comprehensive and then on to frustration.
I think it's about time to move him from his cradle to his crib.
I'll record the facts from my personal point of view, and my observation.
From the porch we could see the huddled figure of Howie Abbott sitting under a large red umbrella on the edge of the pier.
I guess I'd like a little input from you guys, if you don't mind.
Betsy strolled in, wiping flour from her hands on a dish towel.
I was desperate to get away from there!
Do you think the woman and the girl were people from your past; relatives?
I had trouble sleeping on the sofa because I kept thinking about my vision from earlier.
There was murmured sound downstairs and Betsy asked from outside the door if there was a problem.
Quinn peeked over the edge of his magazine as Martha brought a pen and pad from the kitchen.
I could easily tell from his breathing patterns sleep was illusive.
I'm on the road with West Virginia behind me, taking a brief rest from my hobby.
How I love the open country, away from city police and cameras at every intersection.
Martha, always the caring hostess, finally went upstairs and chased Quinn from his quarters, freeing up the now-dismantled lab room.
Two weeks passed and I'd put Howie Abbott from my mind when Betsy called one evening as I heated a frozen dinner in my lonely apartment.
California is a long way from West Virginia, Betsy.
Brockville is just over the border from Maryland and Washington.
There's no way he'd consent to travel all the way from Boston.
My statement sounded enough like a question to earn me a frown from both.
I was walking from the opposite direction so everything looked backwards at first glance.
Betsy pulled a small tape recorder from her purse.
Just then, an elderly woman emerged from the back of the red brick structure.
There were lots of businesses and folks came out of the hollows from miles around to shop.
Betsy would be home from her road trip and together we'd take on Quinn.
Electrostatic fields come from a voltage gradient and can exist when charge carriers are stationary.
The light was coming from under a closed door at the end of a hallway.
Could Howie really see scenes from the past?
My parents, now residing in Florida, would attend the ceremony along with my older brother and his family who would fly in from Seattle, Oregon.
I'm a scientist and if I don't know an answer, I seek counsel from sharper brains.
I changed the subject and opened one of the bottles of wine we'd brought from New York.
He knows what settings control each but it's far from exact.
Betsy, being from mid-America, found the ocean delightful.
Betsy turned on a tape recorder as Howie reclined on the bed, turning away from us.
Howie yelled, jumping from his seat.
A solid fence prevented her from seeing the vehicle.
A news camera showed the home from across the street.
As soon as Howie emerged from the basement we all hurried into the living room and stood around, expectantly.
He let the child fall into the trunk, slammed it and quickly drove away just as the mother was emerging from the house.
They were nearly invisible from the main store.
I took the receiver as Betsy dialed the number she'd copied from the television announcement.
The thoughts of where we would go from here weighed heavily on everyone's mind.
His comment earned a look from Martha suggesting the subject had been discussed in the confines of their bedroom.
My wife looked up from her lap top.
If they found you out, the assault on you from every quarter would be unimaginable.
You stopped Otto's next victim from being abducted.
It was some distance from the farm house and he thought he might not get to it before it left.
I recognized him from his silly Internet chatting.
Betsy spent hours on the computer, searching for results from our second tip but nothing was reported.
My husband has taken time away from school he shouldn't have and is pressuring me to do the same at the hospital.
A Cleveland mother had reported an infant child was taken from his crib while napping yet when Howie was able to enter the location before and during the alleged time, there was no sign of the child.
I did so from a Times Square pay phone.
Our spectacular triumph was the return of an infant from a small Texas hospital.
The man jogged from the house carrying the young girl.
We all want to do more, but we can't afford the time away from life to do as much as we want.
He still relied on a taxi to get him from his apartment to Peabody.
Number three was a father taking a son from the boy's mother who held custody rights.
The boy was jubilant to be with a dad he loved and away from an overly strict mom.
While we refrained from tracking our results, when we learned through public media of a success, we celebrated.
I'll try to locate a sympathetic ear from down here.
It came from Boston, a few hundred miles away; sort of like the tip you just made.
He's a week from retirement and he seems to be something of a maverick.
The tips are states away from what's being tipped.
Out flight was early so we had time for dinner on the way from the airport.
We had two runaways in a row followed by a location Howie couldn't find and a wake-up interruption from outside noise.
From Howie's standpoint it was easy.
What do you want from me?
Martha and baby Claire were released from the hospital after two days and both continued to prosper.
Martha looked for approval and received it tacitly from all but her husband.
A few impressions stand out vividly from the first years of my life; but "the shadows of the prison-house are on the rest."
Anna Pavlovna's alarm was justified, for Pierre turned away from the aunt without waiting to hear her speech about Her Majesty's health.
But scarcely had Pierre uttered these words before he was attacked from three sides.
The man lifted his hands gently from the trunk, and the rear wheels of the car lifted a few inches from the ground.
Even so, it was as if a something had been lifted from her chest, allowing the flow of oxygen and blood to a starving brain.
Opening it, she removed a tissue and wiped the tears from her face.
She tried to keep up with him, but her legs ached from the unfamiliar exercise.
Refreshed from the inside out, she dressed and combed her hair with her fingers.
After they finished eating, Giddon rose from his chair.
Finally he took the cup of coffee from her hand and nodded.
Without taking his eyes from it, he finally spoke.
It sounded like a good chance to get away from this house and the memories for a while.
By the time I got it from the car, it was down to one bar.
But when she asked Giddon to give Connie his phone number, he looked suspiciously from one of them to the other.
Sarah met them at the door, her puzzled gaze going from Giddon to Lisa.
Giddon removed the suitcases from his car and joined them at the door.
Sarah's expression went from surprise to joy in the blink of an eye.
She slipped into her shoes, still smarting from his reproach.
Diablo. He's Yancey's method of relieving stress and getting away from us women once in a while.
But why wouldn't he want her to see the barn, and why would he build it so far from the house?
And maybe he wasn't trying to keep her from seeing the barn.
Lisa started to rise from her chair, but Giddon was faster.
He closed his book and placed it on the end table and rose lithely from the chair.
She woke to bright sunlight shining through her window and jumped from the bed, tugging on a pair of shorts and a blouse.
From the door she turned and watched as he climbed into his car and drove away.
From now on, she would be sure she had her beach robe by the pool when she swam, just in case someone came by... especially Giddon.
After lunch, Giddon's offer to help Lisa with the dishes was met by a raised eyebrow from Sarah.
Without another word, he stalked from the room.
He reached out and plucked some stick-tights from her sleeve.
She felt an unwelcome rush of excitement and reached to push his hand from her hair.
She tried to push away from him but his embrace was too strong.
As his grip on her relaxed, she stepped away from him, a flush creeping up her neck.
His hand dropped from her arm and she opened the door.
He had only said that because he was trying to discourage her from prying into his business.
From the window of his office, the path was clearly visible.
Carefully lifting the envelope from the drawer, she opened it.
Sealing the letter, she took a stamp from her purse and placed it on the envelope.
Her plan was to approach the building from the back parking lot.
She had a wild urge to throw her arms around his neck and kiss the worry from his face.
He looked relieved and reached up, pulling a leaf from her hair.
Her soft touch did more than erase the worry from his brow.
Yancey lifted Lisa from the counter and helped her into a chair.
She felt somehow drawn to the picture of a frail looking girl with dark eyes that looked out hauntingly from a delicately beautiful face.
Who could blame Valorie for shrinking from Yancey's temper?
Lisa retrieved the book from her room and decided to go read out on the patio.
To keep her from wandering in the woods?
An armadillo stared at them from a rocky ledge as they passed, and a doe and her fawn darted across the trail not more than a hundred yards ahead, disappearing into the brush.
What would inspire someone to chisel their name into a rock so far from civilization?
I've found old rock fences, and there's an old log cabin falling into ruins not too far from here.
She stepped away from him, but he grabbed one arm, turning her around to face him.
Yancey looked down at her as he helped her from the ATV.
Her attention was completely diverted from Yancey.
The man glanced up and she put a hand to her throat, feeling the blood drain from her face.
Then why did he live so far away from everything?
She started the coffee and picked up an empty pop bottle from the counter to discard in the trash.
His warm lips left hers and started down her neck, forcing a moan from hers.
Maybe Yancey would be more careful in the future about using the threat of bears as a method of keeping Lisa away from that building.
He pulled an envelope from his pocket.
She snatched the envelope from his hand.
A little memory work might be required, but anyone could count from nineteen to twenty.
Inside the card was a letter from Connie.
She turned away from the temptation and went to her room.
Things are coming to me like waking from a nightmare.
I can't believe that it's healthy to push them from your mind altogether.
Maybe if you took some pictures from the house and put them in your room.
As you said, you're just waking up from a nightmare.
It was Yancey standing outside that shop, and with him were the man from the building and Allen.
A honk from behind drew their attention.
The door opened quietly and Yancey entered, his face bland as he retrieved the magazine from his chair.
Lisa stared up at him, the blood draining from her face.
Why did you hide it from me?
He touched her arm and she moved away from him.
She was searching through her house for some unidentified object when a shadow emerged from the dark.
Why are you trying to get away from me, Litha?
More likely it stemmed from the fact that she had not gone to the house yet.
Are you wiping the sleep from your eyes?
Maybe that was what the dream was about – shifting from one family to the next.
The smile melted from her lips and her body chilled.
She inched away from him.
All I know is that he's temperamental, and you'd better stay away from him.
You'll stop fighting when the breath is gone from your body!
Jerking away from him, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Wiping tears from her eyes with her hand, she failed to suppress a sob.
From the time they broke up, she knew it could come to this if he were left to his own devices.
Yancey called from inside the house.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Yancey look sharply at Len.
No, a restraining order wouldn't stop him from finding me if he wanted to, and it might just make him mad enough to do something worse.
No one was in the kitchen, but a note from Sarah explained that she and Tammy had gone to town shopping again.
She waited for him to get a little way down the path before she slipped from her hiding place and went to the door.
It wasn't easy to walk away from him – especially now.
Yancey was in the kitchen, getting a cold drink from the refrigerator.
She dragged the two suitcases from under her bed and began filling them with clothes from the closet.
Bordeaux pushed to his feet and moved away from her, careful not to make any sudden movements that might be misinterpreted.
Cassie rolled over and stood, dusting sand from her clothes.
She snatched the whip from the ground and glared at Bordeaux.
He was trying to take the whip from me.
No, it needs to come from him.
Cassie could feel the color draining from her face.
She stirred the pot of stew and stepped away from the fire.
Gentle hands lifted her from the ground, and she buried her face in Bordeaux's chest, sobbing.
Cassie had to smile when Bordeaux positioned himself in a spot less than ten feet from her and pretended to settle down for the night.
She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
They each went to their assigned wagon and lit a match, tossing it inside the wagon and moving away from the circle almost in unison.
They converged then, and moved quietly across the sand, hoping the Indians didn't burst from the night to attack them.
The artificial breeze from the fan provided only temporary relief.
He peered sullenly from under the brim of his hat.
He pulled his field glasses from the saddlebag and motioned to Cassie.
She brushed sand from her pants.
She chewed her lower lip and studied him from under lowered lashes.
Cassie, if I were the type of man to run away from responsibility, would I be here right now?
He stood and brushed the sand from his clothes and then helped her to her feet.
Then he brushed the sand from her pants, finishing up with a light slap on her backside.
He carried it a short distance from the others and dropped it to the sand.
As if in answer to her question, he dug a tin from his shirt pocket and handed it to her.
She took the tin from his hand and opened its hinged lid.
Could Bordeaux resist temptation - and if not, would he expect forgiveness from her?
Hopefully it would offer some kind of shelter from the threatening storm.
Not far from the camp, they reached a rock outcropping.
We're close enough, and our camp sight will give us a little protection from the coming storm.
About 10 feet back into the cave water oozed from the wall, slowly dripping into a small rock pool.
Bordeaux tugged her away from the entrance.
The warmth from his body enveloped her mind in a thin casing of security.
There he scooped a bed in the sandy floor, away from the moist walls.
Unsure whether to move away from him or verbally fend him off, she did neither.
She twisted away from him.
He frowned, rolling away from her and sitting up.
Was it so different from the way her father had felt?
Going that way will put us further away from Ashley, but it will give us two advantages.
She jerked her hand away from the sand and stared up at him, a lump forming in her throat.
Judging from the sharp rocks, they must be in the lava field.
She flattened against the rock wall as she heard the horse scramble down into the ravine a little way down from her.
She could feel the blood drain from her face.
She started to slide from the horse.
He lifted a canteen from the saddle horn and took a drink.
There he swung up behind her and they rode away from the area at a fast trot.
Pouring water from one of the canteens into his hat, he watered the horse.
He paused and pulled a weed from between some rocks and fed it to the bay.
Bordeaux nodded and removed his hat, wiping sweat from the band.
She tore her gaze from the group.
Bordeaux stepped from behind the rock and called to the Indians.
Cassie shifted her attention from the women.
Dismissing himself from the group, he strode to his horse and helped her down.
On the other side of the rocks, water sprang from the ground and spilled off a ledge into a large blue pool.
They knelt and drank from the cool spring.
He ducked under the water and came up, wiping the water from his eyes and pushing his hair back.
She pulled the pins from her hair and scrubbed it and then wiped the rivulets of water from her face.
She turned her back on Bordeaux and pulled her shirt from her pants, unbuttoning it so that the water could reach the sweat stained area under her breasts.
She turned away from him, pulling the shirt away from her chest.
That night they slept under the stars - Bordeaux a respectable distance from her, but close enough to assist if anything went wrong in the night.
She filled the canteens and started back to camp, pausing when Bordeaux emerged from the bushes below.
She started to call out to him, but a pretty young Indian girl emerged from those same bushes.
He reached for her arm and she jerked it away from his grasp.
They were served a kind of pancake that Bordeaux said was made from ground Mesquite beans.
In dry gourds, they were served a hot tea made from the ground leaves of something Bordeaux called the lip fern.
Breakfast over, Bordeaux saddled his horse and pulled the field glasses from his saddlebag.
She spotted him waving to her from the boardwalk outside the saloon.
She rolled over and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
She lay the flower and note aside and lifted a dress from the package, blushing as she realized his estimation of her size was accurate.
Once again she had let her desires drive them from her mind.
She ripped the flower from her hair and slung it in the dust.
His tone was kind, even understanding, yet it tore a sob from deep in her lungs.
Finally she dried her eyes and pushed away from the bed.
She glanced at the woman seated across from her and caught her breath.
It was the woman from the saloon.
Cassie clung to the seat to keep from falling out of the lurching buggy as Bordeaux took them out of town at a run.
The buggy bounced over a rock and she clutched his arm to keep from falling off.
No, you're just foolish enough to jump from the buggy.
Cassie moved away from him and scowled at the country without seeing it.
As they stopped in the ranch yard, the twins bolted from the house.
Cassie tore her gaze from Bordeaux and fixed her father with a level look.
He brushed a strand of hair from her face and stroked her cheek.
Why didn't you tell me everything from the beginning?
From now on we discuss things openly, all right?
Yeah, but from now on I'm leaving the shopping to someone else.
The wages weren't all that great, but deducting rent, utilities and groceries from her present salary, it wound up being a good deal more.
From what I hear, he's pretty... frugal; I guess would be the best word.
Her gaze tried to outrun the headlights and then followed the broken line on the highway as it leaped from the dark and shot forward, disappearing under the truck.
From now on it would be crawl out of bed and cook, clean and then maybe rest a little.
In one corner a piano perched silently, and the embers of a fire still cast a faint glow from a massive fireplace.
Reaching inside the door, he flipped the light switch and the room was flooded with light from a ceiling fan.
I fixed the door so it locks from the inside.
If he intended her harm, he would hardly have fixed the door so it would lock from the inside.
He lifted his hat from a peg on the wall and shrugged into his coat.
Removing the laundry from her room, she walked down the hall and hesitated at Cade's bedroom door.
Apparently the water had been shut off up here to keep it from freezing.
She leaped from the couch and darted into the kitchen.
He stomped his boots and shook white flakes from his hat and coat before entering the house Cynthia poured them both a cup of coffee as he washed at the sink.
I'm not from around here.
She removed the book from the shelf and opened it to the dedication page.
He rinsed his cup and turned from the sink.
Afterward he took a book from the shelf and retired to his room.
Cade leaped from the couch as she entered.
He was obviously making a joke, but she would never have guessed it from the expression on his face.
She shifted her attention to the fire and rubbed the beginnings of a crick from her neck.
Cade was slowly emerging from his shell, but the cat was still as wild as ever.
Scraps from the table coaxed him out even during the daylight hours - but only when she stepped back into the house.
She watched from the family room window as he wolfed the food - a habit that had prompted Cade to dub him Scruffy.
That was as close to praise as she was likely to get from him and she smiled her appreciation.
Her face was hot as she pushed away from him, avoiding his gaze.
There again, it's hard to say whether they die from natural causes or attacks by predators.
She pulled the roast from the oven.
He never looked up from his food.
He pushed his chair away from the table and crossed to the family room doorway.
You don't need training - especially not from the people who come up with this fashionable cluttered look.
The extra color was beginning to fade from his face and he turned toward the family room.
His absence sucked the energy from the room and she stared down at the dishwater.
Finally he stepped back from the vehicle and wiped his hands with a rag.
Both statements came from the heart.
She untangled her fingers from the sheet and punched her pillow.
Should she walk away from this job?
Could she walk away from it - and Cade?
The job would be harder to walk away from than Cade - wouldn't it?
It was time to pack up and get out - as soon as the visit from his sister was over.
She tugged the curl from his hand and turned to the old piano as a diversion tactic.
He coaxed one melody after another from the old piano, and then finally he folded the lid down.
From her long neck to her slender ankles, Claudette was dainty and feminine.
She turned away from the beauty of the ranch, reminding herself that she had made the decision to leave.
She tossed her head to throw the curls from her face and rolled over in bed.
Taking a zip-lock bag of scraps from the refrigerator, she opened the door and stepped out into the cool dawn.
She lifted the cat to her lap and turned so the light from the doorway would fall on the foot.
He reached out and brushed her hair away from her face.
She moved away from the counter.
Russie has been keeping secrets from you.
Claudette brushed some lint from the bodice of her dress.
The blood drained from her head, leaving her dizzy and disoriented.
Claudette spoke sarcastically from the kitchen doorway.
Cynthia fairly leaped away from Cade, her face flaming.
Later, as she was straining the water from the potatoes, Cade wandered in.
He took a mug from the cupboard and poured himself a cup of coffee.
How she would have welcomed a loving hug or kiss from him.
If you want to get away from here, I'd hire you.
Cade wandered across the room and stared out the patio doors, sipping from the coffee mug.
It's inevitable that two people living in the same house are going to be at odds sometimes, but from now on I'll never feel completely safe.
He brushed the hair back from her face and stroked her cheek gently.
She said, stepping away from him.
She grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter and blew her nose.
I was out there yesterday when I came back from riding and noticed that the barn was almost as clean as this house.
That and the time when I was trying to get the salt shaker from behind the stove.
He took the blanket from her and spread it on the ground.
Mary strode down the path toward them, a hand shielding the sun from her eyes.
One beautiful day followed another and she gradually wandered farther from the house exploring the ranch - sometimes on horseback, sometimes on foot.
Was he going to say something about the fact that she wandered too far from the house?
His fingers caressed her palm warmly and then he brushed the hair away from her cheek.
Get to the lowest story, in a central location away from hallways and windows.
She snuggled close, letting his body draw warmth from hers.
He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.
But no words came from her mouth as she lay there, mesmerized by his ardent expression.
She squirmed to get out from under him, but the movement was misinterpreted.
She moved away from him and stared down at his relaxed features.
When had he changed from the unattractive older man she met in the diner to the good looking young man who now lay beside her?
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she slipped away from the couch.
You'll get tips from us and follow up on them the same as any tips.
But I take direction from upstairs.
What exactly do you want from us?
We tried to help with the South Carolina abduction of a girl taken from her bedroom.
Lady luck intervened when the director removed a twenty dollar bill from his wallet for a tip for the maid and Howie was able to record the bill number.
We splurged for a motel room in Peabody, a few miles from the LeBlanc's home.
Allow Brennan to operate with total independence and no pressure from you people.
He was often woken from the crime scene by honking horns or outside noises.
One person has the so called ability, with support from a few others.
I'm offering you full funding for your endeavor; secure operating quarters, any place of your choice, sizeable salaries for all of you involved and a gift of stock to each that will assure a lifetime income from dividends.
You must want more from us; at least knowledge of whom we are and what exactly we do and how we do it.
Nothing was learned from the brief visit that contradicted what the man had said to me.
A young girl was taken from her bed as she slept.
Mostly, I want to stop kids from what happened to the sister I don't know.
My little passenger screamed from the back trunk at the sound of the gun shots but he was already dead.
Ethel Reagan, the writer, noted the tips were telephoned from various locations across the country and provided by both men and women.
The first call was from a pay phone in Lynn, Massachusetts.
Betsy called in one tip from California on a business trip.
Our location should be within a couple of hours at the most from a city; not in the country, per se, perhaps a small town.
It was a short distance from Surry Mountain Lake and park, and about seven mile from our recently established office in town.
His house was situated seven miles from the office and about the same distance from Betsy and me.
To ask Brennan directly might lead to us so I made up a story we were checking old cases to see if someone released from prison might have returned to this type of crime.
Howie spotted Cummings picking up Jennie Lohr as she hitchhiked to town from her rural Kansas farm.
Public knowledge noted the arrest resulted from yet another unidentified tip.
I'll pluck their eyes from their head!
The story related the successful return of a young boy kidnapped from his San Francisco home.
Ethel was once again making a daily print appearance, concentrating on the subject of mystic tips, and soliciting comments from law enforcement agencies.
Betsy stepped from the shower, all pink as a posy and wearing only a smile.
The bureau responded, from the top, that all tips were welcomed and followed up, regardless of source.
We thought we had him this time but he has receipts and papers from Chicago where he claims he attended a weekend art shindig.
Remember, we don't have a reason to suspect this guy's alibi; at least not any reason from the planet earth.
I've got a black and blue mark on my ribs from his version of Saturday night fever.
No details yet, Before I could answer, I was interrupted by a scream from my wife that sent chills down my spine.
Celebratory cigars and wine came out and all other business suffered from total indifference.
Martha's father suffered a heart attack when she was in nursing school and her mom followed, from a broken heart, seven weeks later.
Martha had no siblings and Quinn had no idea of what might have sprouted from his alien family tree.
Howie remained obsessed that he'd failed to nail the culprit and when he heard of this later case, he begged Quinn to take enough time away from his wife and new daughter for a single session.
Lottie Lynn Summerfield was abducted from her home in the middle of night.
A car was parked on the far side of the woods, about a hundred yards from the house.
It's been a part of me since the dogs of law released from their barred kennel.
To answer your question, no, I didn't go there; it's the final present from a gone-forever boyfriend.
What is Howie telling her, not just out loud, but with his voice from dreamland?
Howie is entitled his time away from here too.
Now tell me where the calls come from.
He doesn't even know where they come from.
But you've heard from them lots of times.
Tell me what makes their calls different from other tips.
It was from Massachusetts.
I remember because the tip was different from most; so detailed.
Do you honestly think you can keep a secret that's a major part of your life from someone who's sharing a bed with you?
She does have a problem with my keeping secrets from Julie.
I tell Julie the nightmares must be from my past; ghosts trying to get out.
I don't mean to pry, Howie, but can you tell me why she's estranged from her family and what are the complications she mentions?
I could tell from Brennan's voice he was agitated.
I so love my home away from home.
From my point; money was well spent.
The man was run down by a detective from After.
I knew craved forgiveness from the others, but lacked the capability to attain it.
From the looks on the glum faces before me, he had neither told them anything nor was there success in their search for the killer.
I glanced up from me desk.
Is this a tip from mommy the clairvoyant?
He also murdered a deputy sheriff who stopped him because the law knew his license plate from a tip.
I knew from my in depth research, the number and location of all payphones bearing the area code and first two numbers dear Brenda provided me.
How could I convince my reading public I heard it from the horse's mouth?
Why would they admit the tips come from the nether world?
I promised to check in from time to time as we finished our conversation.
Now I have another dazzling thought, bred from my brilliant research.
We tackle our work; professionally and without rancor to one another in spite of a pall of indecision that oft times seeps in like a chill from a leaky window frame.
He swore the tip came from someone, unidentified, but close to the rapper.
No, he was quick to say, it didn't come from any "psychic foolishness" which he didn't believe existed.
Otherwise, it was difficult to sense true feelings, at least from Julie's standpoint.
I can see from my perch a window downstairs in back remains open to catch the lovely spring breeze.
I was tidying up some details when my computer singled an incoming message, from Merrill Cooms.
What do you need from me?
The break-in was only hours old and we knew the exact location from Howie's first visit.
Howie called in from California on a daily basis.
His mother wasn't doing well and from what we could gather from his vague conversations, she wasn't expected to recover.
From what I read between the lines, the stepfather has no use for Howie, so Howie's presence isn't giving him any comfort.