“How is it that you read me so well?”
“You’re an open book Alexandra Dunn. When you look deep into my eyes and lean close, I know you want to be kissed.”
She looked to her feet.
“And when you cross your arms and tap your feet, you are angry with me,” he said. “And when you avoid me and can hardly glance my way, I know you’re hiding something. So tell me. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”
“’Tis about the stone,” she divulged, handing his satchel to him.
“It’s here,” he assured her. “I can feel it.”
She shook her head. “Nay, I am afraid Grandfather has played a trick on you.”
His muscles tensed. He plucked the stone from its hiding place and held it to the light. His face paled. “Why hadn’t I noticed it before? Your grandfather had been reluctant to hand it over...why would he have an ordinary rock stuffed away in his mattress...unless,” he said, his expression turning grim, “unless he knew I might ask for it. He’s a smart man, that grandfather of yours...sneaky, but very clever all the same.”
Clearly, Sir Joe was doing his best to rein in his frustrations, Alexandra realized. From the satchel he retrieved a folded parchment and a writing utensil. He counted the lines and then added two more. “Twenty nights have passed,” he said finally. “That leaves me with nine days to get back to your village.” He took a firm hold of her shoulders. “Can we get back in that amount of time?”
She nodded. “If we make haste.”
Although Mary was disappointed by their need for a hasty departure, she and Sir Richard were more than helpful in seeing them off. Provisions were many and Sir Joe and Alexandra were given a mule to carry the load. With no time to waste, they said their good-byes, two sisters promising to set eyes on one another soon. Garrett, Sebastiano, and Joe were already mounted. They waited patiently for the women to hug and cry and hug again.
“Women,” Garrett said, “they set my teeth to grinding. If Mary dares to supply us with one more bolt of frieze, or one more pound of sugar, our mounts will fall over dead from the weight.”
Joe laughed and so did Sebastiano when Garrett failed to hide the faint smile playing at his mouth. They were a sorry lot, the three men with their various injuries: Garrett’s waist was tightly bound with clean linen and Joe’s arm was bandaged and propped in a sling. Sebastiano had scratches across one cheek and on his throat from his scuffle with the king’s men.
They did finally set off while the sun still shone, and they continued to ride straight through even after the sun had set to the west.
Joe and Alexandra rode together upon Precious, while the mule and Alexandra’s horse were tied to the back and followed behind. Alexandra slept, leaning back against Joe’s chest as he kept himself awake by replaying the scene with King Henry. To think he had been dubbed a Knight. It was too much to comprehend. Never mind that he had survived adventures far beyond his imagination, he had met King Henry VII and was being credited for saving his life. Disbelief made him shake his head once more.
Joseph McFarland of Manhattan, also known as the Black Knight, stops history from changing. Mind boggling.
As the sun rose, Garrett appeared ready to fall asleep. His head would loll to the side, and then he would jerk upright, eyes wide as if he’d just awoken from a good long nap.
At the front of the line was Sebastiano. Joe asked him to hold up for a moment as he clicked his tongue and caught up to him. Precious was now accustomed to Joe’s riding habits. The animal had grown stronger and healthier with all the exercise and fresh air over the past weeks.
“We need to head north toward the inn where Susan and Rebecca are staying,” Joe told Sebastiano.
Alexandra looked up at him with sleepy, curious eyes.
“Good morning,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I was just telling Sebastiano that we needed to head toward the inn.”
“But there is no need,” she replied. “Sebastiano has agreed to escort my sisters home so as not to delay us further.”
Joe shook his head. “We’ll all go together.”
Eager to see Susan again, Sebastiano dug his heels into the horse’s flanks.
Garrett merely shrugged and did the same.
Alexandra looked at Joe, perplexed by his decision.
He shrugged. “I promised Susan I would come back for her and you know how I hate to break a promise.”
After a moment, Alexandra said thoughtfully, “I wonder what your father will think of your new title upon your return?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “That’s the second time you have talked of my returning.”
She shrugged, obviously baffled by his comment.
“Go ahead,” Joe said, “and say whatever it is that’s bugging you Alexandra. Get it all out until there’s nothing left unsaid.”
She straightened. “All right, I will.” She glanced ahead at her brother and saw that he and Sebastiano were waiting for them. “Move on you two,” she called. “We will catch up to you shortly.” She then turned her attention back to Joe. “Before I speak my mind, I shall like to find a private place to freshen myself.”
“I could use a good stretch,” he said as he reined Precious toward a patch of greenery. Joe dismounted, his legs stiff, his shoulder sore as he helped her down. He watched her head for the tall shrubs, admired the soft sway of her hips as she went. He had no clue what she might say to him when she returned, but he knew she needed to have her say.
By the time Alexandra returned to where Sir Joe waited for her, she felt sick to her stomach. Sure that her sickness stemmed from eating too much, she decided not to say as much to Sir Joe. Mary had insisted she eat, saying she looked too thin. Alexandra was not used to having Mary act as her mother for it had always been the other way around with the two of them. But Alexandra had to admit she enjoyed her sister’s pampering. And to please Mary, she had eaten every last bite on her plate.
Her sister would not be happy to know that every last morsel was now beneath the shrubs. The morning sun felt good on her face and shoulders as she headed toward Sir Joe, noticing at once how the light reflected off of his broadsword, making him appear...unreal. As if he was a figment of her imagination.
His hair was long, and despite his taking a blade to his jaw, the stubble was already a dark shadow upon his handsome face. There was no denying he had been in fine shape when they first met. But now, as he leaned against the oak, his shoulders broad, his hair long, his eyes watching her without censure, she saw so much more than an intelligent man with a penchant for cleanliness. She saw Sir Joe McFarland, her very own Knight, the man she loved.
He handed her a tin cup filled with water. She emptied the cup in a few long gulps, but refused the chunk of cheese and wheat bread he offered next. “I am still full from the fine feast of yesterday. There was more food on my plate than I have eaten all year.”
“A delicious meal it was,” he agreed. “So,” he said, “what’s on your mind?”
“I wish to know why you still plan to return to your time. Is it because of your father, or is it truly because of the Academy you so often speak of?”
He finished tying the water jug to the saddle and then appeared to be in deep thought as he turned back to her. “It’s hard to explain.” He paused. “But I guess one of the reasons is that for most of my life I thought I could do something great, something that would make a difference. That’s one of the reasons I became a professor. I wanted to teach young men and women about the world. Does that make sense?”
She shook her head.
He sighed. “I guess what I’m saying is that my staying here will not change what happens tomorrow. History has already been made in this world. Life goes on in a sense, but nothing changes.”
She let out a huff. “The King of England might very well have perished had you not come and who knows what would have changed in your world and in mine had you not been here.” She touched his arm. “Do you not see? You can make a
difference, you have already proven such.”
He shook his head, but didn’t say anything more.
“’Tis done, is that what you are saying?” Her brow creased. “What happens to me and my family has no bearing on you or your comfortable, peaceful life, and so why should you care, is that it?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“I saw the news in your world,” she said, feeling bitterness and frustrations she had not even known existed until this moment. “All of your modern technology and fast cars and markets on every corner and yet people are starving in your world, right under your noses.” She sighed. “I think you are returning in hopes that one day your father will see your full worth, mayhap see within you the boy he gave up so long ago. What then?” Alexandra’s hands trembled. “I wonder,” she said calmly now, “does the boy in the man’s flesh finally and miraculously learn about love and compassion, shedding his old skin like a snake when his father finally returns? Or does the man quickly seek a new treasure like a crab seeks a new shell, hoping this will be the thing that will help him succeed in filling the hole left by his imperfect childhood. Or, when all else fails, does the boy seek a new goal when his true calling, his life’s purpose, fizzles out completely?”
She did not look away from him as she shook her head, saying, “What the boy, who is now a full grown man, does not yet realize is that he has no purpose at all; too busy to see that he has no life, nobody to love, no one to grow old with because he is scared to death that no one will ever love him back for very long.”
She stopped talking long enough to see that she had enraged him. The muscles in his jaw twitched and his mouth had become a hard straight line.
“I didn’t ask for any of this,” he said. “Why can’t you, or your grandfather, or your siblings see that? I didn’t ask to be sent to your world? I can’t just drop my life at the tip of a hat. Marriage, children, whatever it is you have planned for you, for us, was not part of my plan. Why is everyone so damned determined to ruin my life?”
“I never intended to ruin your life,” she said, daring him to contradict her, having no fear of him. “Since your arrival I did not scheme or plan to keep you from returning to your haunted past. Nor would I want to ruin your dreams of being reunited with a man who has all but deserted you.”
“He did not desert me.”
She let out a frustrated breath, and found a sudden need to sit down. Instead, she leaned against the horse. “Call it what you will,” she said, her legs wobbling, “but my father did the same, for neither have I seen him since he walked out of our lives so long ago.”
“It’s different with my father,” Joe said matter-of-factly. “He’s a busy man, is all.”
Alexandra let out an exasperated breath, her shoulder’s sagging as if the weight of the world had landed full upon them. “Aye. You are right,” she said, deciding suddenly that she would not be the one to destroy his fantasy of having a father who truly cared. His father had left him just as her father had left her and her siblings, but Sir Joe was afraid to see the truth. Once again she reminded herself that she did not want his pity. And moreover, she did not want him to stay against his will.
“I am sorry your life has been filled with so many hardships,” he said, touching her arm. “And I am sorry I cannot stay.”
His words so deeply revealed the pity she had already inspired in him. Her gut wrenched. “Naught to be sorry about,” she said softly, feigning a smile. “Life will soon return to normal and all will be well.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
I’m so glad you are here. It helps me to realize how beautiful my world is.
—Ranier Maria Rilke
Overall, the ride had been long and tiring and they all bore two days of dust and grunge. The horses quickened their pace sensing that rest was near. Joe was relieved to see the inn. Before they set off again he planned to take a hot bath and a long nap.
Alexandra wasted no time in jumping from her mount, handing the leather straps to Garrett so she could hurry to her sisters who must have seen them coming since they were already running through the open fields toward them.
“Where is Mary?” Susan asked, her brow creasing with worry.
Alexandra gathered both sisters into her arms. “She is well,” she told them. “Let us go inside and I will tell you all.”
Rebecca paused, letting her sisters walk ahead as she glanced over her shoulder at Joe. He winked. “I have your gift right here,” he said, patting his saddlebag.
She smiled, then hurried to catch up to her sisters.
Nothing was lost on Rebecca, he thought. Such a smart girl for her age. He only wished she would talk again. The longer she held back, the harder it would be for her.
Never, Joe realized hours later, would he have imagined that a bath in a wooden tub could be so satisfying. Almost as good as the nap he’d taken on a straw mattress. Some of life’s smallest pleasures were definitely overlooked. His clothes had been cleaned and although they were damp, he felt so much better.
Joe had drifted off to sleep thinking about all the things Alexandra had said about his father. Joe knew better than anyone that Alexandra could take care of herself, but still, he hated the thought of leaving her. He would like nothing better than to have her return home with him, but it wasn’t fair to ask her to choose between the life she knew and the unknown. Besides, she had family. Her sister was married now, and Mary, too, would have a family soon.
Alexandra was wrong about his father. The man wanted to spend time with his only son, but he was too obsessed with finding the Black Knight to find the time. His father’s work had taken priority, but that didn’t mean he loved Joe any less. When Joe returned home, he would tell his father who the Black Knight was, and then things would be different.
Joe gazed at the broadsword. It had been like a dream, his being dubbed a Knight by the King of England himself. Who would have guessed? And then to have Sir Richard bestow upon him the very candlestick Alexandra had first pointed out to him. It was all too much, too perfect, too surreal. Smiling, he pulled the candlestick from his bags, admired its incredibly detailed metalwork, then turned at the sound of a creaky door.
Waving Rebecca in, he watched her come forward with the doll tucked beneath the crook of her arm. As always, her thumb was shoved inside her mouth, and he wondered how many more years she’d be sucking on it. “Did you brush your teeth while we were gone, like I told you?”
She shook her head.
“Your teeth will rot and fall out. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”
She shook her head again.
“Just take a wet rag like I told you and rub it on those teeth, both sides, before bed. You won’t forget tonight?”
She shook her head.
“Good girl.” He saw her glance at the candlestick he was holding. “This is a candlestick. It’s not your gift so you can stop frowning.”
She looked relieved.
He smiled at her and rubbed the top of her head before he set the candlestick on the nightstand and turned back toward the bags piled on the high bed. He shuffled through them until he found what he was looking for. And then he laughed as he brought forth a new doll, another gift from Sir Richard. This doll was made of silk threads wrapped around a wire frame. It had an embroidered face, real hair, braided, and it was dressed in a simple linen chemise beneath a skirt. “Look at the petticoats,” he said. “There are two of them. One is silk and one is velvet. And look at these fine sleeves and how they have been decorated with tiny seed pearls.” He handed it to her. “Here, it’s yours. Do you like it?”
Her smile faded the moment she laid eyes on it.
There was a knock before the door came open. It was Alexandra and she put a hand to her chest. “There you are, Rebecca. We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Joe looked at Alexandra. Her hair was clean and braided, leaving light wisps about her face. She didn’t look back at him. It seemed their recent talk had
placed a barrier between them. They hadn’t spoken two words since arriving at the inn, and even now Alexandra quietly avoided him, her eyes set on her sister.
Joe bent down so that he could look into Rebecca’s eyes. So very innocent Rebecca was, so fragile, too. Kids, he was slowly learning, weren’t so scary after all. “Rebecca,” he said, sensing her dilemma, “this new doll, or baby,” he amended, looking to Alexandra and then back again, “isn’t supposed to replace your other baby.”
He took her armless doll and held it high. “No baby, no matter how new and shiny,” he added, holding up the new one with its rosy cheeks and perfect curls, “could ever replace Antoinette. That is her name isn’t it?”
Rebecca’s eyes brightened the slightest bit as she shook her head, her straggly hair covering half of her heart shaped face.
Joe let out an exaggerated sigh as if not knowing her ragdoll’s name was truly eating him up inside. Then he smiled and said, “The great thing about dolls, I mean babies, is that one doesn’t have to replace the other. They can be friends.”
He looked at the new doll. “Isabele, I want you to meet your new friend. We don’t know her name, but maybe when you discover it, you will tell me what it is.”
To Rebecca’s delight, he made Isabele nod in agreement.
“This other baby may be nameless,” he said to Isabele, “but she is loyal to her friends. With her by your side, you will never be lonely.” He had Isabele shake hands with the ragdoll’s leg since she had no arms and then he handed the dolls to Rebecca.
With both dolls held tight to her chest, Rebecca ran to the door, pausing to turn back and look at Joe.
“You’re very welcome,” he said.
Her eyes sparkled and without waiting for Alexandra, she flew from the room.
A Knight in Central Park Page 24
