At the sight of Travis, the teenager began scrambling backwards until he wedged as far as he could beneath the hedge. “She’s crazy, that one,” he said as he swiped at his nose.
“Am not.”
Travis whirled around to see Annabelle standing beside Robin. A picture of what had transpired here began to form. He reached for the kid’s hand. “Let’s hear your side of the story first,” he said as he pulled Nick to his feet.
The teenager used his shirttail to wipe the blood from his nose. Before he could speak, Annabelle broke free of Robin’s grasp and made a grab for the shovel. Only Travis’s quick thinking and even quicker reflexes kept the boy from being pounded again. He pressed Annabelle in the direction of Robin and held tight to the shovel.
All the while, the kid just stood there looking confused. Robin, on the other hand, looked fit to be tied. Unless he missed his guess, he’d best keep the shovel out of her reach too.
“You said I looked like a cinema star, Nicky.”
Annabelle planted her fists on her hips and seemed to be daring the boy to speak. Behind her, Robin’s face looked redder than her hair.
Travis stabbed the shovel into the dirt and shook his head, then turned his best interrogator’s face on the kid. “You brought her in here to take advantage of her.”
The teenager’s lower lip began to tremble, but righteous indignation shone on his face. “I didn’t bring her in here, Mister. She caught me taking a break.”
Annabelle kicked at the dirt with her sneaker. “You told me you would kiss me like those American blokes.”
“Did you tell her that?” Travis asked.
Nick looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I might have.”
“You did,” Annabelle said.
“All right, so I did but then I realized that it was wrong to take advantage of her. I mean she’s. . .” He paused to pick a leaf off his shirt. “Anyway, when I didn’t kiss her, she whacked me well and good,” Nick said. “Beamed me over the head with that there, she did.”
Annabelle made a grab for the boy, but Travis yanked him back just in time. “Whoa there,” he said. “You all right, Nick?”
The kid nodded. “Just a little blood.” He held his hands out in a show of surrender. “I’d like to go about my business now.”
Travis gave him a sideways look. “You sure?”
“I am.” He ducked his head and a few errant leaves fluttered to the ground. “It’s my fault for sleeping on duty and fraternizing with the guests, Sir. I shan’t be forgetting this lesson any time soon.”
He clasped a hand on the kid’s skinny shoulder. “I believe you. Now go on, get out of here.” The boy complied, giving Annabelle a wide berth as he raced past.
“Come back here,” the girl called as she attempted to run after him.
Robin caught Annabelle by the wrist and pulled her close. “This is beyond belief.”
Annabelle stuck out her lip and looked more like a little girl about to cry than a nearly grown woman who’d just committed assault with a deadly weapon. “But I just did what you said.”
Travis whirled back to face Robin. “Did you tell her to attack someone?”
The color had drained from Robin’s face, and only a shocked look remained. “Of course not.”
“You did so,” the girl insisted. “You said if a man made me feel uncomfortable, I should do whatever I must to make him understand.” She pointed in the direction that Nick had gone. “Well that’s what I did, Miss Robin. I hit him hard just like you showed me.” Her expression fell. “What did I do wrong?”
“But I only meant to protect you from. . .” The words trailed off as her gaze flitted from Annabelle to the back of the fleeing kid.
Then Travis saw them.
Tears.
He gulped. One became two and then three until they blended together to slide down her cheek. When Annabelle saw Robin crying, she joined her.
Standing glued to the spot, the only thing Travis could think to do was pray for a way out. He had two females in tears and nothing to say to make them stop. Worse, if he tried to beat a hasty retreat, he’d get lost for sure.
“Oh my,” Robin said with a sniffle, “this has become quite the kerfuffle, hasn’t it?”
“Nothing the chief of security can’t handle,” came the aged but familiar voice. “What will you people do when I’m no longer around?”
Never had Travis been so glad to see Nigel Sudbury. “I’d be much obliged if you would escort the young lady home, Mr. Sudbury.”
The elderly fellow’s watery gaze fell first on Robin, then on Travis. Finally he turned his attention to
Annabelle. He produced a white handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and handed it to the girl. “Your mum’s waiting in my office, Miss,” he said gently. “Shall we go see what she wants?”
“Thank you, Nigel,” Travis said as he breathed a sigh of relief.
He seemed to consider the statement a moment before nodding. “Away with you then,” he said to Annabelle.
The girl nodded and skipped off a few paces ahead of Sudbury, totally oblivious to the trouble she’d caused. Too soon Travis found himself alone with Robin. At least she’d stopped crying.
Travis eased his way toward her, stopping short of arm’s length. His cell phone began to ring, but he ignored it. Finally it stopped.
“Robin,” he whispered, “let’s get out of here.”
She only stared. “An innocent young man was hurt because of me. Because of my fear of…” Her voice trailed away, as did her attention.
Travis completed the sentence for her. “Men.”
“No,” she whispered. “Of myself.”
The tears started again. This time he took action.
Releasing her wrist, he wrapped her in his arms and let her have a good cry. Surely the Lord was mistaken about Robin Locksley and His plan for the two of them. Travis had misunderstood. Yes, that was the answer. Soon her sobs had subsided and his shoulder was soaking wet, but the Lord had remained silent on any confirmation of Travis’s theory.
“I should go,” Robin said softly, although she made no move to leave. “Annabelle might. . .”
“Shhh.” Travis lifted her chin and wished away the sadness in her eyes. Then, just like in the movies, he kissed her.
Chapter 8
“Wow,” was all he could manage when the kiss ended.
“Indeed,” Robin whispered.
He stared down into eyes fringed with lashes still wet from her tears. What he felt as he looked into those eyes was pure terror. And this from a man who rarely allowed himself to entertain the idea of fear. One word from Robin Locksley and he’d gladly follow her anyway, even if that destination took him away from everything he had worked so hard to achieve.
If there was any clearer sign that he had misunderstood God’s intentions in this situation,
A second later the phone rang and the feelings evaporated.
Without a word, she slipped out of his grasp and walked right past him. The phone sounded again.
“Answer your phone.” She turned to walk away. “If you’d like to see the Tetbury Market, meet me at the car in half an hour. I’ve a party to plan for the children’s return.”
Travis scrambled to catch up. He answered on the fourth ring to hear the managing partner of Daniel Securities promise to exercise his option to pull out of negotiations if he missed Friday’s board meeting.
Stopping in his tracks, Travis placated the CEO with a promise to take the red-eye to Houston on Thursday night, and then followed up with a call to place his reservations. He paused to glance around. Wherever Robin had gone, at least he knew she’d be back for their trip to the market.
Tetbury Market, she’d said. Though he’d rather be hog-tied and fed to gators than go shopping, spending just a little more time with the pretty Englishwoman was a temptation he couldn’t resist. Especially since he knew the right thing to do was going to end all his excuses to stay.
His next call
was to Constance, who failed to answer. Leaving instructions on her voice mail, Travis severed the last tie between him and Robin and released the bow for delivery. As soon as his secretary got the message, the artifact would be on its way home and so would he. If he missed the flight, he knew he’d never leave.
With a heavy heart, Travis shook off the nagging thought and went off in search of Robin Locksley. If today was going to be his last one in England for awhile, he should at least make the most of it.
* * *
From the car ride up the A429 to the magnificent scenery, Travis soaked up the sights. But mostly he enjoyed Robin’s company. She’d laughed as they passed through the village of Malmsbury, claiming that only two things had ever happened in the sleepy town in all its years of existence. The first was the death of the unfortunate Hannah Twynnoy at the hands of a tiger from a visiting menagerie in 1703, and the second was the loss of the abbey to a weaving business.
Five miles past the town, they turned onto the cobblestone streets of Tetbury and parked near the seventeenth-century Tetbury market. Travis stared at the ancient stone buildings, each one nestled against the other, their exteriors covered with the gray of a multitude of centuries of use. Only the occasional modern gutter or light fixture gave proof the Renaissance had ended. He thought of the bow, surely winging its way back to Robin at this very moment, and smiled.
Yes, it belonged here in England and not back in his loft apartment in downtown Houston.
As do you.
Travis shook his head. No use arguing with the Lord on such a beautiful day.
* * *
There was no use arguing with the Lord on such a beautiful day. A hint of fall lay in the breeze, and soon she would have to think of things more important than lolling about on a picnic with Travis Gentry. But for now God seemed to be in His heaven and all looked right with the world. The fish and chips weren’t bad either.
Robin dropped the chip into the folded paper and stared past Travis to the green hills beyond Tetbury. What a lovely spot for a picnic.
“What are you hiding, Robin?”
She swung her gaze to look at Travis. “Excuse me?”
He leaned close and removed the remains of her lunch from her hands, setting it beside her. “Something happened, and you’ve never told anyone.”
Warmth crept up her neck and into her cheeks. No answer formed. Finally she managed a weak, “How did you know?”
“You’re afraid,” he said simply. “That much was obvious from your reaction to the incident in the maze.”
Something changed between them, a slight shift in the world that made all things new and different and yet so familiar.
“Why should I share this with you?”
He looked thoughtful. “Because you need to tell someone. I’m a safe bet because I’ll be gone soon.”
Sadly, she could see no argument in this. “Very well then. I shall reveal my secret if you give over yours.” She smiled when she realized she’d startled him. “You go first.”
For a moment, Robin felt tempted to relieve him of his obligation and launch into her own story. Instead she vowed to wait him out.
“Gentry men have farmed in Texas since before it was a state.” He paused. “I picked another profession.”
Robin braved the intimacy of touching his fingers and did not pull away when he wrapped her hand in his. “No,” she said carefully, “there’s more. That’s not a secret.”
Eyes as piercing blue as the Cotswolds sky looked her direction. For a moment she thought he might change the subject, possibly force her hand on the issue of her own secret. Instead the hard lines in his face softened and he seemed to be far away.
Back in Texas.
“I thought I was too good to plow.” He paused and then continued with difficulty. “I didn’t know they would sell the place.”
Those words, so straightforward, seemed to loosen something he long held close. His fingers tightened around hers, the only reminder that he knew she still sat at his side.
“You loved the family farm then?”
Abruptly he released his grip. “No.” He shook his head. “Yes.” Again he reached for her hand. “I don’t know. I do know that something good, solid, and true is gone because of pride.”
She captured his gaze. “I don’t understand.”
“I went to college and promised myself I’d never live like backwoods country people again. Didn’t even want to be part of the inheritance when the folks passed on.” Anger flashed across his face, swiftly replaced by sadness. “Guess I proved my point because my brothers jumped at the first chance they had to sell the farm. Now there’s a neighborhood sitting on the same spot where I used to listen to my grand-daddy tell stories.”
With care, she leaned into him, allowing their shoulders to touch. “And your brothers, are they happy?”
A wry smile turned up the edge of his lips. “Delirious. One’s a missionary in Chile, and the other’s got a glass-bottom boat business in the Cayman Islands.”
“Then all’s as it should be.” Gently she nudged his shoulder. “Guilt is not of the Lord, Travis.”
He turned toward her, bringing them dangerously close. She watched his lips, remembering how they’d felt on hers. Obviously the Lord had ignored her pleas to rid her of the memory. Instead, He seemed to encourage thoughts of the Texan.
“Say that again, Robin. I need to hear it.”
“Guilt is not—”
The lips she’d been dreaming of touched hers in a gentle, almost chaste kiss. Too soon, and not soon enough, it ended.
“Thank you,” he said, and she hadn’t the courage to ask whether he spoke of the kiss or the advice.
She reached for the remains of their lunch and began to crumple the papers. “We should go,” she said as she stood to toss the bundle into the trash receptacle.
Before she could accomplish her mission, Travis hauled her back beside him. Fish, chips, and paper littered the grass where she’d dropped them. “Oh, no, you don’t. No more running. It’s your turn to tell.”
Father, please.
She could think of nothing more to add to her futile prayer. Squaring her shoulders, she cast about for a way to tell the tale she’d told no one but the Lord.
“Very well. There was a man,” she began, “I was young, not yet twenty.”
Words seemed to tumble out one after the other until she’d told Travis Gentry her most ghastly secrets. There had been so many parties, so many alcohol-induced stupors and morning-after hangovers. In horrid detail, she told him all the things she’d hidden, things even now she could barely believe.
All but one.
Only the Lord would know about the other set of blue eyes that still haunted her. The one she’d given her heart to.
Travis cradled her cheek with his hand, a touch so light for a hand so rough. She leaned against it and closed her eyes. For a moment she almost forgot the pain of baring her shame to this near-stranger.
“Robin?”
She opened her eyes but said nothing.
“The man you haven’t told me about. Do you still love him?”
Robin recoiled in fear, tumbling backward out of his reach. Somehow she stumbled to her feet, blindly scrambling for the car and freedom. How had he known? Had he seen to her very soul?
Tell him. The gentle voice pierced her heart and stilled her feet. Trust him with everything.
The truth, a bitter pill to take, now sat lodged in her throat. The choice to swallow it rather than expose the worst of her sins bore hard on her. Reluctantly, she trusted and obeyed.
“No, I have no feelings left for him.” She paused to settle her thoughts and turn them into words. “I thought it to be love, and he encouraged the idea.” Slowly she turned to face him, carefully avoiding his gaze. “I was young, too young to do what I did.”
“You didn’t understand.”
“That’s not true. I knew perfectly well and chose freely.” She paused to head off the tears
threatening. “I gave him what a woman has only one chance to give. He soon tired of me and moved on.” She wrapped her arms tight around her waist and forced out the last of her admission. “From thence, I had no trouble giving myself casually to whomever came along. I’m ashamed to say I rather fancied it. Three years ago, I gave my life over to the Lord and left London and the person I was behind.”
Finally she mustered the courage to face him and saw no trace of loathing there. For that she could be grateful.
Attempting a smile, she shrugged as if she hadn’t a care. “So now you know my story and I know yours.”
He nodded. “And you’re determined to ignore God’s promise of forgiveness.”
She leveled him an even stare. “As are you.”
“Touché.” He gathered their lunch leftovers and tossed them into the trash bin. “We should get back.”
Of course he would be anxious to be rid of her.
When Travis strode toward the car, she followed in silence, and when he said something about the lovely picnic, she muttered an agreement. Eventually, they left Tetbury behind and were flying down the A429.
In Malmsbury, she stopped for petrol, allowing Travis the male role of working the pump. While he filled the tank, she slipped into the loo to check her face. Once more, she looked a fright. Splashing on cold water helped a bit, as did refreshing the braid in her hair. When she returned to the car, Travis stood waiting.
“How about I drive the rest of the way?” He paused and seemed to study her as she handed over the keys. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “Now sit back and enjoy the ride, Robin,” he added before she could comment. “It’s always over too soon.”
If only she’d listened. For the ride was indeed over far too quickly.
His fingers brushed her palm as he handed over the keys in the estate’s car park. “A good-bye kiss probably wouldn’t be a good idea,” he said.
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