Beyond Time: A Knights Through Time Travel Romance

by Cynthia Luhrs

  How did men in this time defend themselves and the women they loved? Why did they no longer fight with swords? When was Mellie coming home? He missed her smile and hearing her talk.

  Connor woke, blinking and unsure of where he was before remembering all that had befallen him. Someone pushed the door open as he snatched the sword from the table and brandished it at the intruder.

  Mellie shrieked and dropped the bags. “Oh my goodness, why are you pointing a sword at me? It’s only me. Who did you think it was, the boogeyman?”

  Connor sheepishly lowered the blade, bending down to pick up the fruit and vegetables. A small box made him stop.

  “Is that more ice cream?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you eat all of my chocolate ice cream?”

  Connor fixed a wounded expression on his face. “I was very hungry. And you were not here. Why do you not have food in the box in the kitchen?”

  Mellie peered at him and touched something on his shirt, leaning close to sniff. As she did, he caught the scent of roses, like the soap he used today, and the perfume she wore. He had seen it in her bedroom. The scent reminded him of the orange he had eaten at Mint Hill. He would ask her if they could buy more.

  “Is that grape jelly?” He shrugged. She marched into the kitchen and stopped, hands on her hip. “Oh my gosh, what did you do to the dishwasher?”

  Connor stood up straight, shoulders back. “Aye, it came to life and was going to slay me, so I killed the beast first.”

  Her mouth hanging open, Mellie narrowed her eyes. Instead of looking happy, she looked verra angry, more vexed than the women in the shows he’d been watching all day.

  “You. Stabbed. My. Dishwasher.” She marched over and opened the beast, and as he peered inside, curious to see what the inside of the metal beast would look like, Connor frowned. There were dishes inside. Did the beast eat dishes?

  “This is where the dirty dishes go. You add soap and they come out clean. It’s a dishwasher. Connor, do you know how much these cost?”

  She threw her hands up. As he watched her mouth move, he thought she was counting. When she finished, she pressed her lips together then opened the cold box.

  “I swear, you ate everything in the refrigerator. Where are all the food containers?”

  He frowned at her, then, understanding the question, he grinned. “The food was rotten. I threw it away.” He pointed to the trash, and she gaped at him.

  “You don’t throw the container away. You empty it, wash it, and reuse it.”

  He looked at her dubiously and backed up a step, for she was powerfully displeased.

  “Forget it. I’m not digging them out of the trash. And yes, I have dug cake out of the trash and eaten it. But we are so not going there today. Work was awful, everything is on my last nerve, and I just don’t think I can take it.”

  She peered in the trash, the corner of her mouth twitching as she reached in and pulled out one of the dressing bottles. She looked at the bottle, her eyes wide, and looked at him.

  “Did you eat this?”

  He peered at it and wrinkled his nose. “Aye, I tasted some of that, but it tasted bad, so I threw it away.”

  She laughed. “No wonder. It’s eight years old. I didn’t even know I had a bottle that was this old. I’ve only lived here three years. I must have brought it with me from the last place.”

  The laughter flowed out of her, and he was glad she was no longer vexed at him. He offered her a smile. She sighed, once again looking at the dishwasher as she put the food away. When she opened the box on top, he brightened.

  “Might we have more of the ice cream? ’Twas verra good.”

  She closed the door and glared at him again.

  “You ate all the chocolate syrup and the whipped cream. You can’t have ice cream without those two things. Now we’ll have to get some, so don’t you dare touch the ice cream until then.”

  He held his hands up, noting her tone was different, and she was not mad at him anymore.

  She sighed. “I’m too tired to go out to eat. How about I order us a pizza for dinner?”

  Pizza. Connor had heard the word before, and he thought for a moment, remembering. Aye, ’twas at the awful place, and it was not so good. But he was anxious not to offend her, as he had decided he needed her with him at the museum when he tried to go home to his own time.

  “Aye, pizza.”

  Connor obediently sat at the table in the kitchen as she took the dishes from the inside of the beast, casting him angry looks as she put them away.

  “Truly, I did not know that machine was what cleaned the dishes. The machine came to life, bellowing, and I thought it was going to try and eat me.”

  The corner of her mouth twitched. He knew she was trying not to laugh; he could see it in her eyes.

  “Well, I guess I probably needed a new dishwasher anyway. This one has been a little cranky lately.” She put her hand on her hip, giving him a severe look. “But in the future, no stabbing anything unless you know for certain it’s an animal.” She shook her head. “Forget I said that. Don’t stab anything. We don’t do that.”

  There was a knock at the door, and Connor pulled her behind him, sword at the ready. She grabbed his arm and stepped around him.

  “It’s only the pizza delivery guy. You don’t need to protect me from him.”

  “Harrumph.”

  He let her pass, though he kept a hand on the hilt of his sword as he watched her open the door. As soon as she opened the door, the smell filled the room and his stomach groaned.

  The man handed over two boxes and left.

  “Did ye not pay?”

  “I paid on my phone.” She held up her hands. “I know that look. No more questions until after we eat. I’m hungry, and so are you.”

  He grinned at her, taking the boxes from her and placing them on the table, marveling at how hot they were. As he opened the box and inhaled, she laughed.

  “I know, right? Pizza is the most amazing food ever.”

  She took plates from the cabinet and gave him silverware, even as he scoffed at the dull knife she provided for him. Was she afraid he would stab her?

  She ate, a look of bliss on her face. At Mint Hill, they only had spoons to eat with. The tiny pitchfork made it easy to pick up food. If he made it home, he would see forks made and used. When the pizza cooled, they used their hands to eat. He looked at the second box.

  “Might I have more?”

  She laughed. He liked her laughter—there was a tiny chip out of the tooth at the top corner of her mouth on the right. Such white, straight teeth, and she wasn’t missing any. He wondered how young she was and why she did not have a husband.

  But he knew she did not like him to ask questions, so he would wait. He took the box to the trash while she opened the other.

  “The first was pepperoni and sausage. This one is called a meat lover’s. I thought you’d like it—the pizza has bacon, chicken, sausage, ham, pepperoni, and, of course mushrooms, onions, and extra cheese.”

  She gave him three slices.

  As he chewed, the flavors made him groan. He finished each slice in three bites.

  “Wow, you practically inhaled that. Want more?”

  Connor grinned at her. “Aye, ’tis most delicious.”

  She pushed the box over to him.

  “I only ordered the second one because I knew you’d eat it. Knock yourself out.”

  He frowned at her for a moment, wondering why she wanted him to hit himself, but when she made no move to throw anything at him, he shrugged and focused on the food, eating one slice after another until he was so full he couldn’t eat another bite.

  TWENTY-ONE

  “Why don’t you have the lights on?” Mellie said as she flicked the switch, and he blinked, the harsh light hurting his eyes.

  “I prefer candles.” Connor watched her flittering about like a bird, its heart beating too fast, scared of an approaching hawk. “Come and sit beside me, lass.
”

  But the past se’nnight she’d been skittish as a colt, and she danced away from him, going into the kitchen to pour them another glass of wine. He’d come to love the wine. ’Twas called Moscato. It was sweet, reminding him of the taste of her lips. He wished to drink the intoxicating beverage from her mouth.

  Their hands touched when she handed the glass to him. Heat traveled up his arm, and the way she snatched her hand back, he knew she felt the same, knew what was between them.

  Mellie went to the chair across from his, tucking her legs under her. He had been in the future for six weeks. Since he and Fitz had escaped, Connor had not heard any news of their escape. The internet fascinated him. He did not understand how information could travel so quickly. Just by sitting in front of a piece of glass, and pushing buttons, news from far away came to him. It made his head hurt if he thought about it overlong, but he was grateful the people at Mint Hill were not looking for him or Fitz.

  Mellie showed him how to search the internet. The history of his country saddened him, and the history of the world, the way things were now, made him believe wars would never end. The only thing that would change was who was fighting.

  When she went to work, he would sit down in front of her computer for a short time, and then much time would pass, hours, and Connor found himself watching videos of animals doing silly things, like cats falling off counters. or dogs wearing silly clothes, and it made him laugh. He saw how people could stay in front of the small device and never go out in the world. She railed about this whenever Mellie found him laughing over a video.

  They spent much time talking and walking around the harbor and in the park. At a local market, Mellie had told him there were many children today that had never grown their own food, never harvested food from the ground or understood where meat came from. This saddened him, for he knew connection with the earth soothed the soul and was important to all. Connor could not fathom how people did not want to feel the grass under their feet. When he did not go outside, Connor became grumpy. He needed wide-open spaces like fish needed to be in the water.

  While Mellie read a book, he listened to music. ’Twas what she called country. The men were always singing about their women: losing them, finding them, loving them. He liked his music very much.

  Her small box rang. It was a phone. He was getting better with modern things and modern terms, and while this time was full of wonder, Connor missed his own era. This place was harsh, a dissonant tone in his soul. His love of the land made him ache for home.

  Many times, Connor had begun to tell her who he really was and from whence he came, but he was fearful she would have him taken back to Mint Hill or to a worse place. He knew he would die if he were sent back. Once he knew she would believe him, he would tell her the truth. But he still caught her looking at him as if he were a dolt, and knew she was judging him, trying to decide if he was witless.

  Mellie had searched the internet for news of him, but found none. He told her he could not remember the village in Scotland or where he taught school. She looked uneasy but did not ask him again, only asking how he would get a new passport if he could not remember who he was. Connor shrugged. He did not like deceiving her, so he would make her laugh in hopes she would forget her questions.

  One day, when they were out walking, she helped him buy a phone so he could “text” Fitz. Texting was a marvelous invention. He and Fitz texted back and forth many times a day. Fitz said that in a se’nnight, he thought it would be safe for them to meet. Tracy said a guard who always left the door unlocked had been blamed for the escape. She would leave her job soon and find another place to live so she and Fitz could be married. Fitz said he had always wanted to live on the water, and so had she, so she was trying to find new work, and once she did, he would find work too, perhaps not as a professor. He would write books.

  Connor was surprised to learn that one could make money from writing such books. He thought he might try writing a book of history. He longed to tell how battles had truly happened and tell of skirmishes that were long forgotten. He had lost many he cared about. Even though he was an outlaw and no longer had a clan, he would always call the McTavish clan his own, and so many of them had been lost.

  Culloden had broken his heart. ’Twas an end to a way of life in the Highlands, and his heart ached every time he looked at pictures on the computer or read about the battle and what happened after.

  Her voice changed, and the tone made him sit up from the couch, putting the laptop on the cushion beside him, careful not to let it fall. The machine was verra expensive, and he did not want to break it. Not after the other things he had broken. They had taken another of his coins and exchanged it. The man gave him a great deal of money for the coin. She asked how he had come to have such old coins. Affronted, he told her he earned them from an arrogant Englishman.

  Mellie’s voice reached a high pitch, and he knew she was vexed. He walked to the terrace where she had left the door open, and Connor sat down in the chair next to her, taking her hand in his. She startled then relaxed, squeezing his hand. For the first time, he was hopeful she cared for him as he did for her. Connor was a man of honor. He could not make her his own without telling her the truth. Soon.

  “Mom, that’s awful. I’m so sorry the place burned down. It’s been there for years. Talk about a landmark.” She had her phone on what she called speaker, so Connor could hear what her mother was saying.

  “I know, honey, but we’ll find another place, so it’ll only be a few weeks—a month or two at the most. I’ve gotten in touch with everybody, even Jilly. She says she’ll come whenever we know the date.” The sigh sounded loud. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about my sister. I want to know when we’re going to meet this professor of yours. He’s always jetting off somewhere. Your father and I are worried that he doesn’t pay enough attention to you.”

  Connor grinned as Mellie’s cheeks turned the pink of the sunset he watched every night. Her eyes slid to him and then away, like fish darting in the loch. He squeezed her hand tighter and picked her up. She squeaked and settled her on his lap.

  “What’s wrong, honey?”

  “Nothing, Mom. I thought I saw a rat down on the street.”

  “You know I wish you would move out of that apartment. I know the view is amazing, but living around the harbor, honey. Do you really think it’s safe? Why don’t you move out near your brothers and dad and I?”

  Connor felt the tension in her body as she sat straight up, refusing to lean into him.

  “I like it here. The view is amazing. I’m not ready to move. Maybe next year, when my lease is up. I’ll think about it.”

  “Okay, honey, just keep it in mind. How about we all meet for dinner this weekend?”

  Connor pulled her against him as she shook her head.

  “Maybe. I need to check with Connor and see if he has to teach a workshop. I’ll let you know later this week.”

  She ended the call and jumped off his lap, pacing back and forth.

  “She drives me crazy sometimes. Now what am I gonna do?”

  He knew she did not expect him to answer, and yet he did.

  “I will eat with your family. They will find me to their liking.”

  She arched a brow at him. “They think you’re my boyfriend.”

  He nodded. Connor had not forgotten the kiss, and many times he had caught her touching her fingers to her lips while she looked at him. He knew she was thinking of the kiss too.

  “Then tell them I am wooing you. You could kiss me again.”

  “What? No way. We have a deal.” She shook her head. “We need to work on your story a bit if you’re going to be my fake boyfriend. You’re so…” She waved her hands around him.

  “Manly. Strong. Handsome. Charming.” He chuckled.

  “Full of yourself, pigheaded, stubborn, and I’m sure you could charm the skirt off a nun.”

  Connor threw his head back and laughed.

  “Come, you need f
ood. When you do not eat, you are most unpleasant,” he said, gratified to see her frown at him. In truth, he liked her when she was displeased with him. It made her even more beautiful. He loved her curls and her body. She complained about her hips and her arse, but he found both most pleasing. He found all of her pleasing, and wanted her exactly as she was.

  TWENTY-TWO

  “I didn’t think I’d ever find this place. I’ve lived here for years and had no idea it existed.”

  Connor watched as Mellie came into the pub. Her hair curled around her face, making him wish to wrap it around his fingers. She wore a pink dress, completely unaware of the men’s eyes following her as she walked over to him. Connor wanted to take every one out into the lists for daring to look at his woman.

  “Aye, Fitz told me about this place. Ye just missed him, lass. He and Tracy are moving to Florida, where ’tis warm all year, to live on the water.”

  Connor thought of Mellie as his, but he could not keep her. The longer he stayed in this time, the more he felt he was dying, coming apart from the inside out. So many hours he’d searched for a way to go home, all to no avail. Though he found many stories of people disappearing without a trace, people who’d gone to work one day and never returned. Had they tired of their lives and vanished, or perchance they too found themselves ripped from this time and taken to another? Where might they have gone?

  Connor finished the glass of whiskey and nodded to the barkeep. “Another, Angus, if ye please.”

  Mellie eyed him. “Whiskey. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever tasted the stuff.”

  Connor and Angus grinned at her.

  “Then ye must try a wee nip,” Connor said as Angus poured. The smell made him miss his homeland.

  She took a sniff and blinked. “Wow, this smells really strong. I don’t usually drink anything other than wine or a little bubbly.”

  But she took a sip. He watched her as she took another, and then she looked at him, a look of wonder in her eyes.