Wetand Wild

by Sandra Hill

  “He told me we would marry.”

  “Men! They are so clueless,” Meredith said.

  “Yep,” they all agreed.

  “I never considered abortion once I knew I was pregnant, but, man, this little one”—she put a hand over her belly affectionately—“interferes with everything I’d always planned for my life.”

  “You will marry eventually, though, won’t you?” Angela stared at her with motherly concern.

  “Maybe. Probably. I don’t know. This happened rather fast. I still haven’t reconciled myself to who he is … or appears to be. Today’s the first time I came even close to thinking it was possible. Even then …”

  “Ah. The time-travel business,” Meredith said. “What finally convinced me was all the knowledge Rolf had about that time period. Little details, like the name of a sword or a longship. I was a medieval-studies professor and I didn’t know half of what he did. The man even built me a longboat.” She grinned sheepishly at them and took a sip of her wine.

  “For me the final straw was when my daughters and I went with Jorund to Rosestead, the Viking village that his brother founded in Maine,” Maggie said. “Of course, we didn’t know it had any connection to Rolf at the time. To see him in that element, it was impossible to deny that this was what he had come from.”

  Alison was having trouble fathoming how a college professor and a psychologist … seemingly intelligent women … could accept such a preposterous notion as time-travel.

  “Well, I know that time-travel exists, because I experienced it firsthand.” Kirsten set aside her empty glass and looked directly at Alison. “In the year 999 a.d., my father, myself, and eight of my brothers and sisters were on a longship somewhere beyond Greenland. A strange fog enveloped the vessel, causing us all to fall asleep. When we awoke the next morning, we were on a Hollywood movie set. I was only fourteen at the time, but I remember every detail. Of course, I couldn’t put any of this in my thesis. Either my academic superiors would have thought I was nuts, or if they did believe it, they’d have sent the whole lot of us to some research lab for testing. Viking guinea pigs, that’s what we’d be.”

  Alison burst out laughing at the image of a bunch of Vikings being stranded in Hollywood and at the preposterous notion of time-travel. “Honestly, how can you explain time-travel?”

  “Oh, there is no explanation. It’s a miracle, that’s all,” Maggie said, throwing her hands up in the air. “Sometimes you just have to trust that God—or the gods, if you listen to my husband—have a different plan for us.”

  She must have still looked skeptical.

  “Honey, do you believe in God, or some higher being?” Angela asked, putting a hand on her forearm and caressing it in a motherly way.

  “Of course.”

  “Why? You can’t see Him. There is no science to prove He exists. Sometimes you just have to trust.” Angela shrugged as if that said it all.

  “You’re still not buying it, are you?” Kirsten narrowed her eyes at her with exaggerated dismay.

  “No.”

  “You will.”

  After that, Alison relaxed and enjoyed herself. She loved watching Ragnor—she still stumbled over that name—bask here in his own element. Everyone, including Ragnor, kept coming over to where she sat in a cushioned lounge chair on the back patio to make sure she was okay. If she didn’t fit in, it wasn’t because she was ignored.

  But Alison felt the need to get away by herself, to assimilate all the astounding news she’d been hit with today, to sort out the implications of what this would mean to her and Ragnor. Torolf would probably resume his position on the SEAL team to which he—rather, Ragnor—had been assigned. Becoming a SEAL had always been Torolf’s dream. But what would Ragnor do, assuming he was here to stay? Become a vintner? A SEAL under his own name? He was an extremely intelligent man. With some major tutoring, he could choose any career he wanted.

  Where do I fit in the picture? And our baby?

  It was all more than Alison could handle at the moment.

  So in the early evening, while it was still daylight, Alison pulled Ragnor aside. He grinned, thinking she wanted to make out a little and pulled her into a somewhat secluded grape arbor, more decorative than utilitarian.

  While he nuzzled her neck and tried to ruche up her dress, letting out a hoot of joyous laughter when he discovered that she was indeed naked underneath, she kept swatting his hands aside. “Listen to me, you lech, I have to tell you something.”

  “Does it have aught to do with marrying me?”

  “No.”

  “Then it cannot be all that important.”

  “Yes, it is. Oh, my goodness! Stop that. Someone might come in here.” He had backed her up against one supporting post and had her dress up to her waist. His big hands were palming her bare buttocks.

  “You are right, as always, milady, but I am a Viking. We Norsemen know what to do in such situations.” With that, he plopped down onto the bench behind him, taking her astride him. He billowed the skirt of her dress out and over his lap and knees. “Anyone walking in unannounced will think you are just sitting on my lap,” he proclaimed proudly.

  “Yeah, if they are stupid and unaware of the Viking one-track mindset when it comes to sex.”

  He smiled, then reached under and touched her, thus getting the last word in, so to speak.

  She almost screamed, so intense was the pleasure.

  Quickly he pulled down his shorts and arranged his erection to press against her folds. “Your woman dew welcomes me,” he informed her in a silky voice. “Like warm honey it is.”

  “Warm honey on a hot rock?” she teased.

  “For a certainty.” He nuzzled her neck and kissed his way up to her mouth. “Thank you, sweetling,” he whispered against her parted lips.

  “For what, sweetheart?” She rubbed her mouth back and forth across his. It had been so long since she’d been with him. More than a month. But it seemed like a year.

  “For finding Kirsten. For coming here with me. For giving me back my family. For everything.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  “Nay, this is your pleasure,” he said, thrusting himself inside her.

  That is for sure, sure, sure, sure, sure, sure … she stuttered mentally.

  When it was all over, she still sat on his lap with his wilted penis inside her, her head resting on his shoulder, both of them panting. “I love you, heartling,” he said then.

  She went stiff. This was not the right time. He was speaking out of gratitude and the joy of his homecoming. Even so, she whispered back, “I love you, too, my heart.”

  He smiled at her repeating back his endearment in her own way. “What was so important that you lured me here?”

  “Hey, buster, I was the luree, not the lurer.” But then she grew more serious. “I called the hospital a little while ago to check on a patient. One of the covering physicians was called away on an emergency, and I have to go back tonight.” It was a lie, of course, but for a good cause.

  “Oh, nay! Can we not wait till the morrow to return?”

  “No, no, no! You stay here for a few days, or longer. I’ll drive back myself.”

  “I am not going to remain here without you.”

  “Now, don’t go getting excited—”

  “I thought you liked it when I got excited.”

  She chucked him playfully under the chin. “You need this time with your family. I need to be back at Coronado. Relax and enjoy the gift you’ve been given here. I’ll call you tomorrow night, or you can call me. Please.”

  She could tell he was divided—wanting to stay, but feeling obligated to go with her.

  “Really, I’ll be all right.”

  “Well, only if you will give me a proper good-bye.” He wiggled his hips from side to side to show what he meant, as if the moving, hardening object inside her didn’t already proclaim the message loud and clear.

  She laughed. “You know how you’re always braying about
this or that famous Viking S-Spot?”

  “Vikings do not bray.” Then, “You do not like the Viking S-Spots?”

  “I love the Viking S-Spots.”

  “Well?”

  “What you do not know is there is a famous Navy SEAL S-Spot as well.”

  “How would you know? You are not a Navy SEAL.”

  “Ah, but I was engaged to one.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Is that a hmmm you are interested, or a hmmm you are not open to new and creative ideas?”

  “Definitely interested. Where is this SEAL spot on your body?” He pretended to lean down and peek under her dress.

  “Not there, silly. The difference between the Viking S-Spot and the SEAL S-Spot is that this one is on your body. It will be my gift to you.”

  His blue eyes lit up with interest.

  A short time later, as Alison stood and whisked her hands together dramatically, Ragnor lay back on the bench and pretended to have died. “You give good gift, milady.”

  Alison only hoped that this wouldn’t be her last gift to him.

  Beer wisdom …

  He should have gone with her, Ragnor realized almost immediately.

  “You should have gone with her,” Torolf said, as if reading his mind as he’d always been wont to do. Some things never changed.

  It was past midnight, the party long over, and they were seated on rocking chairs on the back porch, swilling down more mead on top of all they’d already imbibed. He wondered idly if he’d be able to walk to his bed in the spare bedchamber when he got up, or if he should just sleep in this chair tonight. More likely, he would end up face down on the wooden floor.

  “She said she would call me when she arrived at her hotel tonight, but she has not called.”

  “Don’t worry. She’s all right. She probably didn’t want to disturb you. Women are stubborn that way.”

  “But she said she would call.”

  “Women lie.”

  “Men lie, too. Remember the time you told Olga Cross Eyes that she looked very pretty in the hay byre with her dress up over her head.”

  “That is beside the point. I cannot picture you with children.”

  “Not children, for the love of Frigg. One child.”

  Torolf laughed. “Both of us grew up in that madhouse of screaming, whining children. We made a pact when we were twelve never to have children of our own.”

  “I believe we were changing Kolbein’s shit-laden nappy at the time,” Ragnor pointed out. “That alters a man’s thinking somewhat.”

  “So now you want children?”

  Ragnor had to ponder for a moment. “If you had asked me that three months ago, I would have said nay. But the instant I learned of this babe growing in Alison’s belly, I knew … I just knew it would be precious to me.”

  “It’s Alison who makes the difference, then?”

  “Methinks so. Plus, I have been thinking of late that the big family we grew up in was not all that bad. Not that I would want to have a large number of babes with Alison. One will do. Or two, if I am coerced.”

  “Don’t try to tell me she coerced you into bed. That I will never believe.” Torolf grinned at him. “She would have nothing to do with me. Even when I only tried to be friendly, she gave me the cold shoulder.”

  “Ah, but I was always the more handsome of us two.”

  “Your conceit hasn’t changed at all.”

  “Are we drukkin?”

  “Absolutely.”

  The two brothers grinned at each other.

  “Why did you say I should have gone with her?” Ragnor tried to lick his lips, but they seemed to have disappeared.

  “Because women say one thing when they mean another. They want us to guess what they really think,” Torolf explained.

  “So, when Alison said she didn’t want me to go with her, she probably meant the opposite?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And this philosophy of yours was taught to you by what fool?”

  “Our father.”

  The two of them grinned at each other some more.

  “He seems happy here … you all do.”

  “We are. I’m not sure why we were all sent here, or how, but every member of our family seems to have found a niche.”

  “A niche, huh? What do you suppose my niche is?”

  “Well, with a baby on the way, I would say your niche is with Alison, wherever that might be.”

  “But what work would I do here? I ran the family estates in the Norselands. I fought in wars when so inclined. It was a different world, calling for different skills.”

  “Pfff to that! You can do whatever you want here. You could help Father run Blue Dragon.”

  “I know naught about grapes.”

  “You could work with Uncle Rolf at Rosestead, prancing around like a Viking warrior.”

  Ragnor reached over to punch his brother’s arm and almost fell out of his chair.

  “You could teach mentally ill people to exercise at Uncle Jorund’s clinic.”

  “Oh, that sounds like fun.”

  “Hey, maybe you could go to medical school and be a doctor. You and Alison could be a team.”

  “Somehow I do not see myself sitting in a classroom for years. And I have ne’er been drawn to the healing arts.”

  “Father has a friend who will get you some forged documents stating that you were born here. Don’t want them putting you on display in a museum somewhere to show what a thousand-year-old cock looks like.”

  “It is fine.”

  “Well, I guess so if you got the good doctor pregnant already.”

  “How about you, Torolf? What will you do now?”

  “Return to SEALs,” he replied without hesitation. “It’s always been my dream. In some ways, your coming here helped keep my dream alive, brother. With my injury, they never would have let me continue.” Torolf gave him a quick shoulder squeeze to show his thanks.

  Ragnor frowned with concern. “Since I went through the last few weeks of training in your place, won’t you find it difficult to just pick up where I left off?”

  “Nah! I already have a pilot’s license, and I jumped more times than I can count when I worked fighting forest fires. Besides, I’m not saying it will be easy, but training isn’t over, just because you … rather, I … graduated from BUD/S. It’s just the first phase, buddy. And if that’s not enough, I’ll confide in Cage. He’s a good guy. He’ll help me catch up.”

  Ragnor nodded. If he could survive after being dumped in the middle of SEALs training hell, his brother could surely survive the continuation. They were Vikings, after all.

  “Back to you and Alison, they do have condoms here, you know.”

  “I know, and I used them all the time. It was just a momentary slip.”

  “A momentary slip. Do not dare stop there.”

  “In a broom closet.”

  Torolf’s mouth gaped open with disbelief; then he let out a burst of laughter. “Oh, Ragnor, I have missed you sorely.”

  You never know what you’ve got till you lose it …

  After stopping midway back to Coronado for a late dinner, Alison decided to drive through instead of staying in a hotel for the night alone. She should have called Ragnor, but it was midnight, and she didn’t want to awaken anyone at Blue Dragon. She would call in the morning.

  She was not unhappy as she made the trip home. Those eight hours gave her lots of time to think and plan. If Ragnor were here, he would say, “Nay, nay, no thinking!” Alison smiled at his words in her head. But she was a logical person, and she thought with her head now, not some other body part, like her heart.

  One, she refused to marry Ragnor for the sake of the baby. Not even for the love they both professed. That love had not stood the test of time yet. That did not mean that they wouldn’t marry at some point. They needed to spend time together, maybe even live together for a while. He wouldn’t like that, but that was her decision on the matter … for now. He would try to
change her mind. She couldn’t wait.

  Two, if they didn’t marry, Ragnor would share custody of the baby. No way would she deny her child a father. And, man oh man, what an extended family this little one would have!

  Three, she would have to inform her father and her brothers of her pregnancy, ASAP. And her superior officers at the base, even though her work shouldn’t be affected.

  Four, related to that, she would decline the unspoken offer to join the new Liberty Teams. Oddly, she did not feel all that bad about it. She was beginning to wonder if perhaps the dream of becoming a SEAL hadn’t begun to fade a long time ago.

  Five, she would tell Lillian about the baby, and perhaps the widow would be willing to help her with some childcare.

  With all these decisions made, Alison smiled and patted her stomach. “You and me, baby … and maybe your daddy, too.”

  She arrived back at her house about four a.m. and went immediately to bed, where she slept soundly till daylight crept through the windows. But it wasn’t daylight that had awakened her. It was cramps … no, more like mild contractions in her belly. And she felt wetness beneath her on the sheets.

  Oh, my God! Oh, my God! She stumbled to the bathroom, where she discovered what amounted to a heavy menstrual flow. As a physician, she knew that she was losing the baby. Quickly she started to dress in hopes of making her way to the clinic. Perhaps the doctors there could do something to stop this.

  But there was no time. Every five minutes or so, she was passing clots along with the flow. In the end, she just sat on the bathroom floor, propped against the tub, and cried. Oh, baby! Sweet baby! I am so sorry. Please, God, take this little child into your arms. If there is a heaven, please welcome my baby there.

  Later, she would go see her gynecologist/obstetrician, but, barring complications, she hadn’t been far enough advanced in her pregnancy to require a D & C or any other procedure. She knew what the doctor would say. Some pregnancies were doomed from the beginning. It wasn’t her fault. There would be other children. The whole routine.

  Alison washed herself, now that the worst was over, put on a heavy pad and a long flannel nightgown—her comfort attire—and crawled into bed. Maybe when she woke up this time, she’d find this had all been a dream. No, she wouldn’t delude herself.