He put his bare forearm to his nose and breathed in. “Ahh, great. Now I smell like a woman.”
“But you still look like a man.” She smiled, struggling to keep her gaze from dipping too low again.
“Which brings us back to the matter at hand.” His voice deepened, his nearness making it all the more difficult for her to breathe. She felt his chin hovering above her head. “Is that lavender, too, that I smell in your hair?”
“Aye,” she said, her voice low. Her cheek so close to his chest she could almost hear the soft beat of his heart.
How she ached to reach her arms up around his strong neck and feel his lips upon hers once more.
“And who might this Ari be,” he asked, “who has my clothes?”
For a moment, she forgot who Ari was. She closed her eyes, didn’t dare meet his gaze, afraid to let him see that she had lost all ability to concentrate. “Ari Tibbs aspires to be a garment maker,” she finally managed. “He was intrigued by your breeches, so I gave them to him. I owe Ari and Lydia much for agreeing to care for Grandfather and the children while we are gone. It is the least I could do.”
“Hmmm,” was all he said, his eyes dark and smoldering.
Something about the way he was looking at her told her Sir Joe felt something, too. There was something thick and palpable happening between them. If she failed to walk away, she might do something she would regret. Like kiss him. And to do so would be a mistake. If he wanted to kiss her, he would have done so already. Abruptly, she turned away from their near-embrace and yanked the reins from the post.
She was not cross with Sir Joe. She was angry with herself for desiring a man she could never have. For years she held no interest in marriage or men, then suddenly Sir Joe comes into her life and it is as if she is transformed over night, acting like a foolish simpleton every time he is around. God’s teeth, she could hardly find her tongue when he was about, her heart racing after nary a glance.
She climbed onto her horse and with a click of her tongue to get the horse moving, she set off, leaving Sir Joe to follow.
The horse’s tail swished, slapping Joe across the face and bringing him out of what he considered to be a strange medieval trance. To think he’d almost kissed the irritating woman before she’d jerked about, leaving him standing there looking like one of his foolish lovesick college students.
Just because her hair smelled like flowers and her lips beckoned him like honey beckons a bee, he’d nearly fallen into her trap. According to her grandfather, she wanted a husband and she meant to get one.
He shook his head. One moment he was going to lecture her for giving away his clothes, and the next he was about to kiss her like there was no tomorrow.
She was purposely seducing him, dammit, and she was good at it. She wanted a husband, maybe even kids, definitely something permanent. The same thing most women wanted. It was written all over Alexandra’s face.
He hadn’t intended to lead her on and give her false hope. He needed to fulfill his promise and then get the hell out of here. As he followed behind, he thought of his assistant, Shelly, and how she might find his situation humorous, or at the very least, remarkable. But there was nothing remarkable about wearing clothes that left nothing to the imagination, nothing funny about smelling like a garden. Next time he found himself falling for one of her seductive ploys, he was going to lay down the law, tell it to her straight, let her know there could never be anything more than a simple friendship between them.
Within the shaded area of the stables, he tried to adjust himself within the snug breeches. It was no use. Five hundred years in the past, an amazing phenomenon, and all he could think about was how he was going to get through the next four weeks without his boxer briefs.
As he came around the stables, it seemed the entire village had gathered to see them off, including Alexandra’s siblings. As he walked along, a dozen young women pointed and giggled. His pants might be a little snug, but he failed to see the humor in his suffering.
Ari, the garment-maker wannabe, was the first to introduce himself, providing Joe with a smile along with a friendly slap on the back. “Glad to see that my clothes fit so well,” he said cheerfully. “Verily Alexandra was accurate when she guessed us to be of the same size.”
Joe grimaced. “I appreciate your generosity, but you wouldn’t happen to have anything a little less confining, would you?”
Ari waved a hand through the air, dismissing Joe’s request. “The finest you have on. Only the best for a knight such as yourself.”
With a silent groan, Joe followed the man to his mount, a fair-sized horse with white mane and tail. While Ari checked the animal over, Joe touched the leather pouch at his side, making sure the stone was where it should be; his ticket out of this nightmare. Until the time came for him to leave, he needed only to concentrate on staying alive. Maybe he’d even luck out and find an interesting artifact to bring home. If he played his cards right, everything might turn out just fine.
As Ari brushed dry mud from the horse’s flanks, Joe crinkled his nose as the pungent odor of sour milk and rotten eggs wafted by, drawing his gaze to a group of women a few yards away. They were in the process of emptying chamber pots and buckets filled with unimaginable stench. Too bad they didn’t think to take the pots a little further downwind.
While Ari bent low to check the horse’s hooves for stones, Joe looked about and saw Alexandra’s siblings staring at him. The girls regarded him with curiosity while Garrett glared at him with open hostility. The boy’s eyes had become steely narrowed slits; the same evil look that had caused Harig to put a blindfold on the kid.
The idea of setting off for the open road was looking more and more appealing. He certainly didn’t want to hang around a bunch of kids. Nor did he have any desire to stay and listen to grandpa sing praises of his beloved granddaughter for the next twenty-nine days. And that wasn’t to say he didn’t like Alexandra. Quite the opposite. He liked her a lot. She was smart, fairly amusing, and she was pretty.
On the other hand, she was opinionated, stubborn and sneaky...very sneaky. Only a sly woman such as Alexandra could manage to get under his skin so quickly. Somehow she’d worked her magic on him, making him yearn to catch a glimpse of her, making him want to kiss her every time he so much as talked to her.
How could he even think about falling for a woman like Alexandra? Never mind that she was from another time. She was a slob for God’s sake. She threw chicken bones on the floor, wiped her mouth with her sleeve. She even snorted when she laughed. It wasn’t really a snort, he mused, but more like a cute little pig noise. He smiled at the thought of it. Damn. He liked her all right. She made him smile. He enjoyed talking to Alexandra when she stayed at his home. More than once she’d managed to make him forget about his work. More than once, she’d made him wonder if life had more to offer.
Joe exhaled as his thoughts turned to her grandfather. The old man presumed to know everything about him, cocksure that Joe McFarland was the man who was going to right all wrongs and save the day, confident that destiny would have Joe married off to his granddaughter when all was well and done.
No matter how much Alexandra made him think and yearn and covet, forming any sort of long-lasting relationship with her was out of the question. He had his future all planned out. Nothing would stop him from accomplishing his goals.
Joe reached out to pat the horse’s neck. Its ears flattened back against its head right before massive, ugly teeth came after him. He yanked his hand back.
“Watch your fingers,” Ari warned without turning about from the hoof he was working on.
Joe checked to make sure he still had all ten fingers. “Thanks, I’ll do that.”
Ari straightened. “It’s my wife’s horse. She calls the animal Precious.” He lowered his voice. “But you can call the stubborn beast anything you want once you ride out of here. Temperamental mount, but also strong and sturdy. Just like my wife.” Ari guffawed, then slapped Joe’s back.
Joe managed a half-smile in return.
The animal pushed Ari with his nose, nearly knocking him off his feet. “Stop that!” Ari complained, raising a hand.
“Don’t shout at my baby,” Lydia scolded as she came to the horse’s aid. She smoothed a meaty hand over the horse’s muzzle without losing one finger. Then she reached into her pocket and gave Precious a lump of sugar. “Treat her right,” she told Joe, “and she will do the same by you. You have only to earn her trust.”
Joe was listening to the couple’s helpful hints when Alexandra approached, telling Joe that it was time to set off. She looked tired, much too fragile to be going off to rescue her sister from a fortress known as Radmore’s Keep. Joe glanced about. “Where’s everybody else? Your grandfather said we would have help.”
Alexandra sighed. “Grandfather has a tendency to say that which people wish to hear. He means well.”
Joe couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “We can’t save your sister alone. What about those men over there?” He pointed to a dozen men working the fields, using oxen to till the land next to the fields of wheat, readying it for seed.
“They are needed here, but there is a chance we will receive aid before we reach Levonshire, the city bordering Radmore’s Keep. Grandfather assured me he would send message to his good friend, Sir Charles, in hopes that he can gather a small army of men to aid us.”
“Maybe we should wait here until we hear back from Sir Charles.”
“Nay. Sir Charles and his men, if they come, will wait for us near the borders of Levonshire and Trent.” With that said, Alexandra pulled on the reins and headed off to say goodbye to her siblings.
With each passing moment, Joe saw their little adventure turning sour. But what choice did he have? Little kids and grandpa or dangerous mission with one small woman at his side? One glance at Garrett made him quickly opt for the unsafe route through the woods. As their departure neared, the villagers became restless, speaking to one another in excited whispers. More than likely, they were taking bets on how long he would survive.
“They’ve been waiting a long while for this day to come,” Ari said, as if he could read Joe’s mind.
“Why? What’s so special about today?”
“The people of Brookshire have been living in fear for too long, heavily burdened with excessive taxes, never knowing how long the crops will keep them fed.”
“Has anyone spoken to the king about this?”
Ari shook his head. “’Twas King Henry’s own bidding that common folk be heavily taxed. Unlike the middle class, we can ill afford to pay the king in return for peace and good government.”
“But why all the excitement?”
Ari smiled. “Because you, Sir Joe, have finally come. The people of Brookshire rejoice the arrival of The Black Knight.”
Joe choked on air. “The Black Knight?”
“Aye.”
Joe assumed Alexandra had mentioned the Black Knight. “They think I’m The Black Knight?”
“Nay. They don’t think you are the Black Knight; they know you are him.” Ari winked. “Just as you do.”
Joe remained silent. If Ari knew what he really thought, the man would be highly offended.
“’Tis hope you see in their eyes,” Ari went on, “for we have been praying for you to come and right the wrongs unjustly set upon us. It is a miracle of God that you are here.”
Joe looked again at the people surrounding him, dressed in rags, most without shoes or boots. What had he gotten himself into? He was no savior. No hero. But here he was, in another world, with dozens, maybe hundreds, of people counting on him. Not only was he expected to save Alexandra’s sister, he was supposed to save an entire village. He peered back into Ari’s weathered face, felt his pulse roar in his ears. “You’ve got to tell these people that I am no miracle. I can’t help them.”
Ari did not look convinced.
Joe didn’t want to be the one to disappoint all of these people. It was too much pressure, too much responsibility for one man. He had to make Ari see that he wasn’t their savior. “I’ve been to church maybe two times in my entire life. God would never have picked me to do anything so grand, so noble, so honorable.”
Ari laid a gentle hand on Joe’s shoulder.
“Look at my hands,” Joe rambled on, holding his hands outward, palms up. “Not a callus in sight. I’ve never touched a sword in my life. I gave up using my fists about the same time I gave up waiting for my father to show up when I was small. I’m just a regular Joe who was this close,” he said, pinching two fingers together, “to having a nice, respectable life. And then Alexandra showed up and BAM, shot it all to—”
“I knew it!” Garrett cried out, startling both men. “I told you he was not the Black Knight!”
“Not now, Garrett,” Ari said, before turning his attention back to Joe. “Alexandra said you saved her grandfather and her brother. Sir Richard’s henchman mentioned to an innkeeper yester eve that you snapped your fingers and caused flames to dance at your fingertips. But it wasn’t until Harig saw the medallion that he realized who you were.”
Ari gestured toward the medallion hanging about Joe’s neck. “That’s when he knew the Black Knight had arrived. The people of Brookshire have prayed for this day.” Ari clapped him on the shoulder again. “If anyone can help us, ’Tis you.”
Joe watched Ari walk away. Crazy talk. He turned toward the horse, made sure the animal was tied securely to the post before he began to search through the saddlebags, slowly at first, and then faster, tossing out a woolen blanket and some dried fruit in order to find what he was looking for.
There it was. His briefcase. He smoothed his hand over the leather case. The familiar object calmed him, told him he was sane after all. He glanced at the people lining the path. Hope filled their eyes. Ignoring the rot and the stench, he gazed at the tiny huts they called home. He thought about his work, about all of the endless years of research. In all those years, not once had he fathomed putting himself in the shoes of the people he studied. Never had he stopped to consider what it must have been like to live in this time-truly live in this time—without electricity, soft mattresses, and all the other modern conveniences he’d taken for granted. His thoughts had always been on the lost treasures and of being reunited with his father. Nothing else had mattered.
“Every hero I ever heard of carries a sword,” Garrett said, jerking Joe back to the bowels of reality.
“Never said I was a hero, kid.”
The boy crossed his arms. “There must be something you can do.”
Joe set about repacking the saddlebag. When he finished, he was disgruntled to see Garrett still standing there, straight and stiff, hands on hips, waiting for a reply.
“Okay, kid, want to see some magic?” Joe pulled a coin from the leather bag at his side and placed it flat on the center of his palm.
Garrett looked bored.
Joe waved his other hand in the air, swirling slowly at first, then swiftly over his palm, making the coin disappear.
Garrett frowned. “’Tis all you can do? Can you make me disappear?”
“Not that lucky kid.”
Garrett snorted. “What kind of warrior carries no weapons, can hardly climb from a tree, and considers himself magical because of one disappearing coin?”
“A simple man from another world who never asked for any of this, that’s who.”
“Alexandra said you plan to leave us upon your return from Radmore’s Keep.”
“That’s right.”
The boy kicked at a pebble with the tip of his worn boot. “Destiny brought you here and destiny is going to make you stay.”
“You’re wrong there, little buddy, because I have the stone. And that means I’m calling the shots.”
“Who gave it to you? Where is it?”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Joe said with a wry grin. “I don’t trust you any further than I could throw you.”
“You dare throw me
and I-I will make your life miserable.”
“Now that, I believe.” Joe turned toward the horse, untied the reins, holding the leather straps a foot from the animal’s mouth so the beast would not be able to bite him. “Listen kid,” Joe said over his shoulder while at the same time trying to figure out how he was going to get on the animal. “Destiny or not, in twenty-nine days I’m out of here. Now be a nice kid and give me a lift.”
Garrett grunted his refusal to help.
Joe looked to Susan for help, but she grabbed her little sister’s hand and quickly scampered off. Alexandra was busy talking to Lydia. After two failed attempts to mount the beast, and a couple of nips on his arm, Joe led Precious to an old decaying tree trunk. He stepped onto the log, and then helplessly sank lower and lower into the rotted wood.
A chorus of laughter rang out around him.
Ari waved the children to silence as he came to Joe’s aid. He weaved his fingers together to make a stirrup for Joe to step into and lift himself onto the saddle.
Moments later, he and Alexandra made their way past the villagers. They had all stopped what they were doing so they could wave goodbye and cheer them on. “Good luck,” the villagers shouted, reminding Joe that they were going to need it.
Just before rounding the first curve in the unpaved road, Joe looked over his shoulder, relieved to see that Alexandra’s siblings had all disappeared. Just like magic, he thought with a smile.
Chapter Twelve
If we do meet again, why, we shall smile; if not, why then this parting was well made.
—Shakespeare
They had been riding for most of the day. The sky was turning a dusty pink, and Joe found himself growing restless. If, at this very moment, he returned to his own time, nobody would believe his story of being in another time. Hell, he still didn’t believe it himself. And thinking about why or how he came to be here was making his head throb. Hoping to take his mind off of his mind-boggling situation, he decided to catch up to Alexandra and have a chat. He dug his heels into the horse’s flanks. But Precious only put her ears back and continued on at the same slow pace. Deciding he would show Precious who was boss, Joe snapped a twig from a tree and swat at the horse’s rump. Precious took off, her front legs coming off the ground before galloping ahead of Alexandra.
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