by Kari August
Dickie was not. “Lindsey, I assure you I’ll have another word with Caroline.”
Lindsey held up her hand. “Actually, Dickie, this is one of the few things you don’t have to worry about where I’m concerned. Honestly, this place looks rather like my own apartment except for the filled rubbish. I would like that removed. I’ll talk to Caroline myself.”
Ned still didn’t know what to say and immediately slid by Lindsey and picked up the offending trash and placed it outside the RV door. He then found a bag under the sink and started to collect the plastic bottles for recycling while he listened to the perplexing conversation around him.
“So where are your samples, Lindsey? I can’t wait to see them.”
“In my carry-on luggage. I wasn’t going to take a chance on their being lost.”
“Good idea. Oh, by the way, I found a manufacturer. In America, not China.”
Ned shook his head, bewildered. “What’s going on here?” He looked between the two of them, waiting for an answer.
Dickie smiled. “It’s the TBN business I was going to tell you about, right before Lindsey arrived.”
Lindsey blew out a deep breath and frowned. “You mean Ned doesn’t know anything about this? Oh, that so figures.” She stamped her foot. “How could I have been so stupid?”
Dickie ignored her. “Ned, I’m negotiating a women’s medieval clothing line to sell on TBN. We’re flying to the network’s headquarters in a few days to finalize the deal.”
“What?!”
Dickie continued. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t know the good news. I’m a celebrity. The shortbread cookies were the highest-rated introductory product ever sold on TBN. I’ve been invited to sell them on the Holidays in August show. And if things turn out as I expect, my clothing line will be offered as well.” Dickie grinned and started bouncing back on his heels, clearly pleased with himself.
Ned collapsed on the corner combination buffet table and bench and started to bang his head on the table. He muttered, “There are no holidays in August.”
“That’s granite, Ned. Now you’re really going to hurt yourself.”
Lindsey inquired, “Dickie, does he always do that?”
Ned looked up. He had to ask, already knowing the answer: “Lindsey, so you’re here only to design clothes for Dickie?”
Lindsey stared intently back at Ned, hesitated, and swallowed. She then answered in a small voice, “Yes.”
Ned had to hide his disappointment and looked briefly away. “Oh, I see.”
Dickie clasped his hands together and in a cheerful voice said, “Ned, let’s give Lindsey some time to settle in. She’ll be joining us for dinner tonight, I’m sure, and you can talk further with her then.”
Ned watched as Dickie bowed over her hand and gave it a kiss. “Until later, my lady.”
Lindsey grabbed her hand back and slapped the top of Dickie’s. “Stop that, King.”
Ned wanted to cry. The situation with Lindsey was back to being hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.
Dickie was beginning to doubt whether he had done the right thing. And that was a rare occurrence indeed! But the evidence was right in front of him at the dinner table. Ned and Lindsey had barely said a word to each other, and they were nearly finished with their meal. Of course, Lindsey had been polite and complimented Dickie on being an excellent cook. Ned had agreed and had added the riveting fact that the weather ought to be nice tomorrow. Lindsey had then nodded in Ned’s direction and given him a halting smile. But that had been it!
Dickie looked out the dining room window, bored with the two of them. “Ah, here comes Squire Cody now.” Cody and Caroline had decided to get burgers in town. Caroline was heading back to the RV. Cody was swinging a pretend sword as he walked to the cabin.
Ned looked over. “Squire Cody?”
“Yes, Ned. I’ve decided to take young Cody under my wardship, since he showed such an interest in my medieval weapons. I’m instructing him on the mace tonight out in the yard.”
Ned sighed and went back to eating his plate of food.
Dickie frowned. “Don’t look so disapproving, Ned. I suspect Cody has good bloodlines in him. Has he told you about his father yet?”
Ned looked up. “No, what?”
Dickie raised his brows. “I’m surprised. He seems to revel in your male companionship—taking commands from you deferentially.”
Ned shrugged. “I like the kid well enough, especially after he helped us out of our pinch.”
Lindsey asked, “What’s so special about his father?”
“His father was a warrior, piloted jets for the military before he passed away in action. Sounds as if he deserved knighthood.”
Lindsey shook her head. “Poor Cody. Losing his father so young.”
Dickie nodded. “Yes, he could use some strong male guidance. His mother decided to raise her only child back in her hometown of Estes Park. She’s obviously doing the best she can, but . . .” Dickie shrugged.
Lindsey sat up straighter. “Just because she’s a single mother doesn’t mean she’s inadequate.”
Ned looked over at Lindsey. “I agree.” He looked back at Dickie. “Your views can be so antiquated, Dickie.”
Dickie inwardly smiled. At least they were coming together, even if it took their forming an alliance against him. He responded, “Be that as it might, I still want you to take Cody on your next camping trip, Ned. He needs to learn some outdoor survival strategies.”
Ned waved his fork. “Fine, fine.”
Dickie heard Cody trouncing up the porch stairs before the door was flung open. Cody made a pretend stance as if he were going to slay Dickie with his imaginary sword, and then said, “I’m at your service, sire.” He then snickered.
Lindsey’s eyes widened before she asked Ned, “Does he know?”
Ned discreetly shook his head. “He must be playing with Dickie.”
Cody looked over at Ned and explained. “I’m learning to use Dickie’s medieval weapons.”
Ned nodded. “I heard. Be careful.”
Cody faced Dickie. “We should have an Estes Park jousting tournament. What do you think?”
Dickie shook his head. As Constable of England he had been put in charge of changing the rules at tournaments. “I came to learn they were a waste of a warrior’s prowess. Too many knights died at events and not on the field of battle.”
Lindsey spoke up. “That’s what the great Richard the First thought. He was considered a warrior king as ferocious as a lion, but he didn’t participate in tournaments.”
Ned looked over at Lindsey admiringly. “That’s fascinating. What else do you know about him?”
Dickie stifled a chuckle. No, it wasn’t fascinating in the least, but Ned thought so, and that was all that mattered. Dickie stood up and motioned for Cody to leave the cabin with him.
Lindsey leaned her head closer to Ned, across the table from her, and said, “Do you know how he died, after all he went through, surviving all those battles, a holy crusade, and imprisonment by a rival emperor?”
Ned leaned closer to Lindsey. “No, how?”
Dickie pushed Cody further out the door and shut it behind them.
Cody protested, “Dickie, I wanted to hear her answer.”
Dickie descended the porch with Cody. “I’ll tell you. He was laying siege to an absolutely insignificant castle. His men-at-arms were going to win for sure. But Richard always made a habit of inspecting his defenses each night. He carelessly walked too close to the castle walls without protection, and an arrow struck him. He died a few days later. One of the greatest warriors of all time passed away from a lucky arrow strike that never should have been able to hit him.”
“Huh. So who was the greatest warrior of all time, Dickie?”
Dickie shook his head. “Hard to say. When I was your age I owned books about Alexander the Great and Hannibal. Oh, and of course, there was Roland, and my favorite, King Arthur. . . .”
After waving good-
bye to an exhausted Cody, Dickie glanced over and saw Ned and Lindsey sitting on the front porch steps, heads bent in an intense conversation. He wondered what they were saying to each other, but decided to give them some privacy and knocked on Caroline’s RV door.
Caroline answered warmly, pulling plugs from her ears as she opened the door wider. “Dickie! Come in and listen to this new song I’m loving. Let me play it for you.”
Dickie stepped into the RV. Ned really owed him now. Dickie had come to learn that Caroline typically had atrocious taste in music. Though he had enjoyed listening to “old rock” while barhopping with her, the songs she usually listened to were often repetitive, with little to enjoy as far as lyrics. To think as king he had hired the best musicians in England to play at his court, and now was reduced to listening to this. Dickie not only treasured music, but he danced with pleasure. Perhaps a little too much, considering it was one of the few times the religious authorities frowned on his normally pious conduct.
Hmmm. Dickie found this new song of Caroline’s had an entertaining beat. He began nodding his head in rhythm, while Caroline smiled. “Isn’t it great?”
Dickie stood up and grabbed Caroline’s hand. “Come on. I’ll show you some medieval dance moves.”
Caroline picked up the steps easily. They clapped their hands, twirled, and promenaded as much as the confining RV would allow, laughing if they hit one of the pieces of furniture. When the song ended Caroline played a tune with an even stronger thumping. She demonstrated twenty-first-century moves and Dickie followed. Perhaps her music wasn’t as horrible as he had thought.
But no, the next song and the one following were as intolerable as her usual fare. He was thankful Lindsey returned to the RV just as Dickie was about to suggest another form of entertainment.
Lindsey smiled. “Gosh, I thought I would have such jet lag, but I really found a second wind the last couple hours.” She headed toward her bed with a cheerful, “See you in the morning, Dickie.”
Dickie walked back to the cabin, after promising Caroline he would come again to listen to her music—please God, have mercy, never again—and found Ned washing the dishes and humming to himself.
“I thought that was my job, Ned.”
Ned glanced over. “Oh, I was filled with energy tonight. Thought I would give a hand.”
Dickie smiled. “I see. What were you and Lindsey talking about?”
Ned beamed. “Dickie, she’s brilliant. She’s absolutely brilliant. I love listening to her. First we talked about history, and then I found out she’s taken courses in design business. You know those preliminary contracts TBN sent over for review?”
“Aye?”
“Well, she had the most ingenious suggestions for how we could make the most of them. Things I hadn’t even considered. Of course, she didn’t know all the legal ramifications, but still, she’s incredible. Don’t you think so?” Ned grinned, waiting for Dickie to answer.
History and contracts? That’s what they had talked about? Of course, this was the Ned who had told Dickie that women didn’t want to be called “love,” or “little dovey,” and Dickie surely knew that wasn’t the case. But still, this was pathetic romancing. And yet Lindsey had seemed content when she had returned to the RV. Dickie shook his head, baffled.
Ned frowned. “Dickie, what are you thinking?”
“Oh, nothing, Ned. Lindsey’s incredible, as you say. See you in the morning.”
Ned smiled. “See you, Dickie.”
The next morning Dickie found Ned in front of his computer with a surprisingly bleak expression on his face. “Something wrong, Ned?”
Ned sighed. “I had trouble sleeping and got up early. Even with my added funds, it’s going to be really tight starting up a clothing line. Perhaps too tight. I don’t know if we’re going to be able to go through with this venture. And that means . . .” Ned frowned and sighed again.
Dickie already knew what Ned’s major concern was. Lindsey would be back in London—not working for them. Dickie was determined not to let that happen. “Well, I guess we need to borrow some money.”
Ned shook his head. “This is so risky, what we’re doing, I hate to get my family involved. And what bank is going to lend to us, considering how inexperienced we are in clothing design?”
“But Lindsey’s not. We could have her talk to the bank with us.”
“Oh, God. That’s just what I need—for Lindsey to realize we got her over here on false promises.” He got up and stretched out on the couch. He looked so forlorn.
Dickie started pacing. This just couldn’t be. He needed to come up with a solution. He finally sat down on a chair and turned on the television, idly flipping the channels. The television had proven to be a source of inspiration in the past. “Ned, do you want to watch the animal channel? That might cheer you up.”
“No.”
Dickie switched over to Frenchie’s network. Some park ranger was talking about culling the elk herd in Rocky Mountain National Park. Ned still appeared uninterested, staring morosely up at the ceiling. Dickie continued flipping between the stations until he came upon a coin-selling network.
He watched some currency from the 1700s being hawked. “You know, Ned. I really don’t know why you dismissed so easily my leather pouch filled with coins when I first arrived. It could contain some real value.”
Ned sighed. “For God’s sake, Dickie. You’ve been here long enough to realize that some pennies and dimes hold little value.”
“But what about the antique groats, half groats and angels it contains?”
Ned sat up. “Huh? What are you talking about?”
“I insisted Herman give me some of my own coins. They were stuck in the pouch when I first tried to shake it out for you. I didn’t pursue it because you seemed so uninterested.”
Ned’s mouth gaped open. “Holy shit. Are you kidding me?” He quickly got up and sat in front of his computer. After a few minutes of searching, he looked over at Dickie, smiling. “The coins made during your time could be really valuable, because you were in power for only a couple years. Go get your pouch and let’s see what’s in it.”
Dickie ran upstairs to his bedroom and hurried back down, handing the leather sack over to Ned. Ned emptied it thoroughly on the table. His eyes widened. “Jeeesus. These are in mint condition. Never worn down.” He held up a half angel. “Let’s see what this is going for.”
Ned clasped his forehead after searching on the computer some more. “These could be incredibly valuable.”
“So what do we do now?”
“We should take them over to a respected coin dealer.”
Dickie smiled eagerly. “You mean Las Vegas Rick?”
“The pawn dealer on television? Are you joking?”
Richard nodded sagely. “I think it would be best. He has a whole crew of personal experts to help him value items, and he even tells people if something is more valuable than they think.”
Ned rolled his eyes. “Dickie, that’s all for show.”
“I don’t think so, Ned.”
Ned sighed. “Well, it’s your money. If that’s where you want to take them, we’ll go there.”
By late afternoon, after an uneventful plane ride, they were standing at the counter, with Rick peering at the collection of coins. Chummie had tried to help them at first, but Dickie had insisted he see the boss. Sure enough, an expert friend was called in. They left the shop an hour later more than fifty thousand dollars richer, ready to start their clothing design company.
Dickie walked down the stairs to start breakfast the day following their Vegas trip and found Lindsey sitting at the table, eating eggs.
She blushed. “Oh, good morning, Dickie. Hope I didn’t wake you. I’m still on England’s time and woke up early. I didn’t want to disturb Caroline in such close quarters while I made some breakfast.”
“I didn’t hear a sound. Make yourself at home.”
Dickie jumped when he heard pounding on the front door.<
br />
Lindsey gasped. “Who’s that?!”
Dickie quickly walked over and opened the door.
Cody stood there, flushed and panting. “Dickie, watch out. Mom’s on the warpath. She drove over with me.” He glanced behind himself briefly.
Dickie looked over Cody’s shoulder to see a plump, middle-aged woman shutting her car door. “What’s the matter, Cody?”
Cody blushed a deep shade of red. “Uh, I let it slip that you were teaching me the use of weapons.”
“Doesn’t she like that?”
“Hell, no. She doesn’t want me to even touch a gun.”
“Don’t worry. Let me handle your mom.”
Cody slithered in and stood behind Dickie as he waited for his mom to make her way to the doorway.
She stepped onto the porch and gave Dickie a quick looking-over. “Are you Mr. Dickie York?”
“Yes, won’t you come in, madam?”
“No, thank you. My business can be handled from right here. I’m Cody’s mother, Connie, and I don’t appreciate you teaching Cody the use of dangerous weapons. I’ve got enough problems to deal with without adding some more. What if he got severely hurt?”
“Well, that’s always a possibility with untrained squires, but unlikely in this case. I’m watching him closely.”
She glanced through the doorway and glared at Lindsey in her bathrobe and slippers. “Just what kind of example are you teaching my son?”
Dickie followed her line of sight. “Oh, I’d like you to meet our new clothing designer.”
Lindsey stood up and walked to the doorway. She held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Lindsey.”
Connie narrowed her eyes as she shook her hand.
Lindsey looked up at Dickie and smiled. “Tell me you’re thinking the exact same thing I’m thinking.”
What? Dickie plastered on a smile. “Uh, yes.” He raised his brows to Lindsey.
Lindsey turned back to Connie. “We need you to be one of our models for our new clothing line on TBN. Have you heard of the Television Buying Network?”
