“I’ll miss her,” he said to Alexandra as she, too, headed out. A part of him was glad she didn’t turn to look at him, since he already knew what he’d see...disappointment, or maybe regret for choosing the wrong man. A real hero wouldn’t let her down. If he was The Chosen One, he would stay. If he cared about the children he would stay. If he loved her, he would stay.
Five nights passed since they left the inn. Each day they rode without stopping. Only when night fell would they set up camp, eat, and head for bed, too tired to talk or ponder for too long over Sir Joe’s eventual leaving.
They said goodbye to Sebastiano two days ago, and he assured Susan she would see him again as soon as he was done with his duties in London.
This was to be their last night on the road. Tomorrow they would be arriving in Brookshire.
And then Sir Joe would leave...
Alexandra tried to turn her thoughts to something other than Sir Joe. She stirred the meat stew within the iron cauldron that hung over the fire. Sir Joe had set off for the river to wash. Susan and Rebecca were busy finding smooth ground for their beds, while Garrett worked on the lean-to.
Susan laid out the new sheepskin Mary had given them and then ran her hand over its softness. “’Tis smooth like the beginnings of Sebastiano’s beard,” she said. “Is not Sebastiano simply wonderful?” Susan asked Alexandra for the dozenth time.
“Aye, he is a clever boy.”
“He is not a mere boy,” Susan said as if terribly affronted. “He is a man. A man who knows what he wants. A man who will never leave me.”
Alexandra had nothing to say to that.
Susan came toward her. “I am sorry. ’Twas cruel of me to say such a thing. I dare not know what has gotten into me of late.”
Alexandra gave the pot of stew another stir before wiping her hands on her tunic. “Do not fret over such things. The traveling has been much and we are all tired. Let us eat and be off to sleep for a few hours before we head off again.”
“Why must he leave us?” Susan asked, taking Alexandra by surprise.
Alexandra had asked herself that same question more times than she cared to remember. Always the answer was the same. “Sir Joe is confused,” she said as she dished the stew into bowls. “He has dreams, things he wishes to accomplish while he is of this earth. Unfortunately these things cannot be accomplished in our world.”
“I do not understand. He loves you. ’Tis written all over his face. I see it every time he glances your way. Remember the way Ari used to look at Lydia before they were married?”
Alexandra smiled, then shrugged Susan’s words off with a wave of her hand.
“’Tis the same look, I swear.”
Garrett took his bowl of stew and tore a stale piece of bread from the last of the loaves. “Women,” he muttered. “They see what they want to see.”
“You think Sir Joe does not love our sister?” Susan asked.
“If he did, would he leave?”
Alexandra felt her chest tighten. The smell of the stew was setting her stomach to churning, and so she took her share of bread and nibbled on that whilst Susan took care of Rebecca.
“Perhaps Rebecca and I should feign a terrible illness,” Susan said. “Sir Joe would never leave us sick and dying.”
“I would not put it past him,” Garrett said between bites.
Surprise showed on Susan’s face. “I thought you had grown to like him?”
Garrett snorted. “I say you have been drinking too much goat’s milk, for I have no idea what would cause you to suggest such an absurd notion as that.”
Susan clicked her tongue. “Sebastiano told me how you may very well have saved Sir Joe’s life. He said that you set yourself at much risk by jumping before a man with a dagger aimed and ready. You could have been killed. Nobody in their right mind would nearly give up their life for a man they did not much like.”
“I only helped him because I owed him for aiding us in getting away from those men who dared call me a thief. And speaking of thieves, I would not listen to everything your dear Sebastiano says. He is the very reason I was taken by those burly boars to begin with.”
Susan nearly dropped her bowl. “Alexandra. Are you not going to reprimand him for speaking so rudely?”
“Stop bickering, both of you. Sebastiano is a fine young man,” Alexandra said to Garrett, “and if he had not drunk from the wrong cup, he would have come after us himself.”
Susan looked at Garrett and lifted her chin with a “hrmmf“.
Sir Joe came through the brush, looking more refreshed, but tired just the same. His hair was damp and judging by his swiftness in returning to camp, Alexandra figured he must be famished.
He looked at each of them.
Nobody said a word.
The distant cry of a lone wolf filled the silence.
Sir Joe helped himself to a bowl of stew and took a seat on one of the sheepskins. He took a bite, looked around the campsite as he chewed. He took another bite and then peered up at the tallness of one of the oaks. Then he glanced at Susan. She quickly averted her gaze. He took another bite and chewed as he focused his attention toward Garrett who looked to his boots.
“Why is everyone looking at me as if I have the plague?”
“Nobody is looking at you that way,” Alexandra assured him. “We have been admiring the trees and the nice weather is all.”
“’Tis the truth,” Susan cut in. “Just before you came back from your washing, we were talking of storms and how quickly they come and go. One moment they are here and the next moment they are not. Like the rain,” Susan rambled on. “You never know when it is going to strike. You pray for it day in and day out and then it finally comes and saves your crops. And then...”
Sir Joe rolled his eyes. “And then it disappears and leaves you all wet and alone, is that it?” He set his bowl to the side. “For four days now you have all treated me as if I’m the bad guy. I’m the good guy,” he said, stabbing his chest with his finger. “I’m the hero. The Chosen One, and I did what I promised I would do. The King of England dubbed me a knight for God’s sake. But for a week now you have all made me feel like pond scum, acting as if I’ve done something wrong. I’m done explaining myself. I’m not like my father. I’m not abandoning anyone by leaving. You are not my kids!” he said, an arm flinging upward. “You are not my wife!” he said to Alexandra. “And this is not my home.”
All was quiet.
“I’m going to bed. I suggest you all do the same since we’ll be heading out before sunrise.” He grabbed his allotted blankets and headed for the far end of the campsite. Every time a wolf cried out, Rebecca shivered.
“Rebecca,” he said, causing all to look her way. “If those wolves are scaring you, just bring your babies and your blankets closer to me. I’ll protect you.”
Something scratchy rubbed at the very tip of Joe’s nose, making it itch. His blankets felt heavy and cumbersome. He could hardly move. He opened his eyes, sure that he was tied and bound, his arms trapped to his sides.
Instead, he discovered that not only had Rebecca joined him during the night, so had Susan and Alexandra. In fact, Susan and Rebecca were snuggled tightly to his right side, while Alexandra was clamped tightly to his left, her leg draped over his, her hair tickling his nose.
Even Garrett had moved closer, but not so close to make it obvious. The fire had long since died out. Through the canopy of trees, the sun’s rays already filtered through the leaves and branches. They had overslept. He shook Alexandra’s shoulder. “Time to wake up. We overslept.”
She opened her eyes and rubbed them, blushing when she saw where they had all ended up. Joe stared at her long and hard, something he found himself doing more and more.
She stared back, her expression filled with compassion. Their journey was coming to an end...just like the storm Susan had spoken of last night. He reached out a hand and pushed hair from her eyes. A few more freckles had gathered across her perfect nose. He wanted to kiss that nose. “
Have I told you recently how very beautiful you are?”
She placed her palm against his jaw, her fingers touching him as if for the last time. His heart ached to think he was hurting her this way. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to forget all about today, tomorrow, and the next day, and just kiss her.
Her lashes fluttered, her gaze set on his. Her eyes were the same bright green as precious stones. He could write a poem about her eyes, her nose, her lips. Those lips enticed him, made him ache for her. Nothing short of an army could stop him from kissing her.
“Time to set off,” Garrett said in a loud grating tone.
Joe returned the boy’s steely gaze. Neither one of them blinking.
“What?” Garrett asked, mimicking Joe’s line as he came toward them and shook both his younger sisters awake. Garrett hovered over them for a moment longer than necessary, daring Joe to try and kiss his sister.
“I guess we better get going,” he said to Alexandra.
“I imagine we should,” she replied.
“Garrett,” Joe called out as the boy headed for the denser area of the woods. “Don’t forget to wash behind your ears.”
“Why should I listen to you? You are not going to be here to tell me to wash my ears tomorrow or the next day, are you?”
Joe looked at Alexandra. She shrugged, letting him know she had no answer for him and was too tired to get involved in their early morning bickering.
“No, you’re right, Garrett. I’m not going to be here tomorrow or the next day. But I’m here right now and I’m telling you it’s a good idea once in a while to wash behind your ears. But hey, I’m not your father, am I? You don’t need to listen to me.”
Garrett had already turned away, already disappeared before he finished his last sentence. “That is one stubborn kid,” he said to Alexandra, but she was already up and moving, gathering the blankets and telling Susan to take Rebecca to the lake for a quick washing.
Thirty minutes later, the horses had been readied. He and Alexandra were just beginning to worry when Susan came hobbling through the brush, her arm heavy about Rebecca’s small shoulders for support.
“What happened?” Alexandra asked as she ran toward them.
“I think I broke my leg,” Susan cried. “I tripped on an old rotted stump.”
“Can you ride?” Joe asked.
“I dare not even try it hurts so badly.” She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling as if she were crying.
Acting was not Susan’s forte, Joe realized as he went to her. “Where does it hurt exactly?” He touched her leg.
She groaned and moaned as if he had kicked her in the shins. “Oh, the pain.”
Joe lifted a brow, flattered to see that the two girls were scheming, stalling, trying to delay them from setting off so that he would be forced to stay.
“Don’t move,” Joe said in a panicked voice, his eyes wide as he looked over Susan’s shoulder, winking at Garrett who was just returning from the lake.
“What is it?” Susan asked, worry lining her brow.
“A snake. Twice as big as the one before.” He took a few careful steps backwards.
Susan shuddered and then jumped out of the way, both legs vigorous and strong as she ran for cover.
Joe broke down laughing, holding his gut with both hands.
“’Tis not amusing,” Susan said when it became clear there was no snake. “Verily I did trip over a stump.”
“And I have wings,” Garrett said.
Joe and Garrett laughed together at that.
Susan, Rebecca and Alexandra stared at both of them as if they had grown identical horns and tails.
“What?” Garrett and Joe asked simultaneously.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Don’t ever sit one out while you can dance. The music ends too soon. Don’t miss your chance.
—Unknown
The day's ride was longer than most and they reached Brookshire with little fanfare, for the hours of darkness were upon them and most everyone in the village was asleep.
Alexandra woke Grandfather. The old man was in high spirits to see them healthy and safe. As it turned out, he had received Mary’s message and thus he had not been fretting these past many days. Grandfather agreed, reluctantly, to hand over the last of the stones to Sir Joe.
As she stood in the meadow, peering into the night, Alexandra looked to the moonlight. Branches of an oak swayed above as her adventures with Sir Joe swirled within her mind. To think her sister, Mary, had fallen in love with Sir Richard and was living in a fine castle. It filled Alexandra with peace to think of her sister so happy, so content.
Sir Joe came up behind her and laid his hands upon her shoulders. Strong capable hands he had, warming her insides with one gentle touch.
How could he leave her? And yet, how could she ever think of using guilt to keep Sir Joe in her world?
As a faint sickness swept through her middle, Alexandra held her stomach. But this time she did not panic, for she knew she was sick with child. Sir Joe would not be leaving her alone after all; a part of him would always be with her.
Even before she realized she was carrying Sir Joe’s child, she knew she had forgiven him. But would he forgive her when she told him of the babe she carried?
“It’s your sister you’re thinking about, isn’t it?” he asked.
She smiled inwardly, for she knew he thought he could read her mind. “Aye,” she replied. “I pray she does not come to regret her decision.”
“She seemed very happy.”
The hoot of an owl and the sounds of the horses in the stables filled the silence between them.
She turned toward Sir Joe. He had bathed. His familiar scent of pine and rosewater filled her with longing.
“I gave the candlestick to Lydia and Ari,” he said, struggling to say goodbye.
She put a hand to her chest. “Why ever so? Was the candlestick not your reason for agreeing to come with me?”
“I have the sword.” He gestured toward his things piled nearby. “Ari and Lydia could use some new window coverings and new bedding.”
She looked at his briefcase. Their final moments together were truly upon them. She needed to tell him about the baby. Would he stay then? Out of duty?
“I don’t know what to say,” he said before she could speak, his voice choked with emotion. “Tonight’s the night and yet the thought of leaving you is turning my insides to mush.”
“You must follow your heart,” she told him.
He raised a hand to her cheek and softly brushed the pad of his thumb over her chin. “It would be selfish of me to ask all of you to return with me. This is your home.”
She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him she was with child, but she heard voices. Somebody was quickly approaching.
They both turned to see Rebecca heading their way, tears in her eyes as she ran toward them. “Fiona!” she cried out.
Alexandra gasped at hearing Rebecca speak. Alexandra fell to bended knee, but it was Sir Joe her little sister ran to. He, too, bent low and swept Rebecca into his arms, holding her tight.
“Fiona!” she said again, holding up her rag doll.
“Fiona?” he said, clearly puzzled.
“Fiona,” she repeated breathlessly, her small voice hoarse and unused. “Her name is Fiona. She wants t-to go with you. To watch over you.”
“Oh, God,” Joe said, his chest tightening. “You’re really talking. I knew you could do it! I’m so proud of you.”
Tears streaked Rebecca’s small dirty cheek. She just stared at him, unblinking, gifting him with her treasured doll.
“How can I ever make any of you understand?” he asked.
Rebecca tucked her doll safely under Joe’s arm and then reached for Alexandra. Joe placed the child in Alexandra’s arms, releasing a long drawn out breath before moving to gather his things. He picked up his briefcase in one hand and his sword in the other. Except for a few pa
pers, Joe’s briefcase was empty. But it felt heavy nonetheless. Perhaps the heaviness he felt was not his briefcase at all...but his conscience. All his reasons for leaving this world seemed suddenly dim and illogical.
He gave Susan a hug when she, too, came forward. He noticed Garrett then, leaning nonchalantly against an old oak, as he often did, taking their goodbyes in stride.
Joe set down his things and headed Garrett’s way. He took the boy’s stiff frame into his arms. “I’ll miss you kid,” he said, his voice strangled with emotion. “You take care of them, okay?”
He felt Garrett’s body relax slightly.
It was another moment before Joe let him go. Garrett looked at him with red bloodshot eyes and nodded.
Joe picked up his possessions again and gave them all one last nod. Then he turned to gaze out at the wide open fields, breathing in the fresh earthy smells of a fifteenth century farm for the last time. The moon shone white and fully round, casting shadows against the tall wheat.
He had traveled through time...a dream and a nightmare all at once. An incredible urge to stay struck him. And yet the moon beckoned him, told him to return home while he still could. Joe didn’t belong in this world and yet for the first time since he’d come, he wasn’t so sure that was true.
He glanced over his shoulder toward Alexandra. His throat tightened and his heart did a flip-flop as a wave of panic spread through his body.
He pulled the stone from his pocket, felt its cold smoothness against his palm. The thought that Alexandra loved him popped into his mind. She didn’t love him because of what they had been through or because of the cataclysmic experience they shared.
She loved him for who he was.
She didn’t care if he could hardly lift a sword or make shapes out of clouds. She had three children to take care of. Nothing short of a hurricane could take them away from her. She didn’t need him. She had enough love for them and for him. She loved him more than he deserved to be loved. If he were lucky, she would love him for the rest of his life.
He looked back at her, felt a lifting of his very soul as if a huge incredible burden had been hefted from inside him.
A Knight in Central Park Page 25
