by Sherry Ewing
“My brothers and I have been watching over him for several hours now. It isn’t often that we observe someone who prays in the old ways. Very rare…very rare indeed.”
“Fletcher is different…and special.” Amy supplied with a knowing look at the altar.
“His devotion to his faith in God is most refreshing,” the monk murmured, turning back to the man, who now began to rise from the floor. “In all my years as a priest of God, I have never come across another living soul who prays as he does.”
Jenna saw Fletcher falter when he came to his knees. Before she could hurry to his aid, the monks surrounded him and began placing their hands upon his head. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was obvious they were giving him some kind of a blessing. A resounding amen filled the church, and she watched in fascination when Fletcher began to take each of their hands, one by one, and brought them to rest upon his forehead.
Jenna reached out and placed her own hand on the forearm of the monk who continued to watch Fletcher with misty eyes. “Thank you, Father, for watching over him.”
She began moving forward, hardly wanting to intrude on what she was witnessing, yet also wanting to be a part of it. Fletcher must have felt her presence, for when their eyes met, the space between them lessened. She greeted him with a smile that he returned. It was as if they both knew each other’s thoughts and where their paths would lead them.
Fletcher’s arm draped over her shoulder, and she gladly offered him the support he stood in need of. “I was worried,” she whispered, putting her arm around his waist. Amy joined her and took his other arm to help.
“I am most sorry, my lady. I was praying.”
“I can see that. Are you all right?” She raised her head to get a clear look at him.
“Aye…you are with me. All is right, or will be soon.”
Proceeding down the aisle, they came to the monk who waited patiently at the open doors to the church. He made the sign of the cross in front of them. “May you go with God, my children.”
They murmured a word of thanks before making their way down the street. Fletcher halted only once to return his gaze to the chapel. A low murmur of male voices emanated from within as the monks raised their voices in chant to praise their God.
Chapter 34
Fletcher stood on the road outside the home of Jenna’s mother. She had asked him to wait as she went into the garage for she had a special trip planned for them today. He watched as the large door began to rise, and Jenna appeared rolling some strange dark blue contraption towards him. Her smile was radiant. His, on the other hand, must surely show concern.
“My mom has already packed everything I thought we’d need in the trailer, so we’re basically ready to go.”
His brow rose ’til he motioned to her car so he could then follow her. “Shall we?” he asked.
Jenna laughed. “We’re not taking the car today. I thought you’d like to go for a ride on my dad’s bike. After he passed away, my mom kept it for me. I finally learned how to drive it, so we can take it for a spin.”
A sound escaped him that was certainly one that could not be termed manly. This future world of hers was going to drive him mad. “Surely, not on…that?” he declared roughly, pointing to whatever this bike thing was afore him. The box, with its own set of wheels attached behind it, had Fletcher assuming this was the trailer of which she spoke.
Jenna’s smile broadened as she swung her leg over the metal beast, much as he would have done if he had been mounting his horse. He never thought he could miss an animal as much as he did his steadfast steed. Where was Fury when he needed him most?
“It’s called a motorcycle, but, more specifically, the brand is a Harley Davidson. Just wait until I start it up. The sound of the engine is like nothing you’ve ever heard before.”
“I believe you can desist with your attempts to woo me onto such a mode of transportation, mademoiselle. It cannot be safe to be perched upon something so unsteady,” Fletcher responded with a grim frown.
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Jenna teased with twinkling eyes.
“I believe I left it at home in the twelfth century,” Fletcher grumbled again, “or perchance ’tis with my horse.”
She laughed again and tossed an object to him that he caught but was once more unsure what he was supposed to do with it. “If it makes you feel any better, the trailer helps steady the bike, although my dad swore he’d only use it for long road trips. He hated using it, except on camping trips, but he would do anything if it would make my mom more comfortable.”
Fletcher’s eyes lit in delight with the thought of camping. At least he knew what she was at last speaking of. “Camping? You are taking me camping?”
“Guess I spoiled the surprise, but you looked as if you were going to throw up again and that would never do. We’ll camp overnight at Kirby Cove. I promise to keep you perfectly safe, but that starts with putting on your helmet.”
Fletcher turned the strange head covering he held over and over in his hands. He studied her as she began putting on her own helmet, but ’twas not like any helmet from days of old. More plastic, he mused. He mimicked her whilst he donned his, as well. How hard could it be, after all? But the leather straps with metal loops were beyond his ken of how to fasten this monstrosity to his head without it falling off. She beckoned him, and, lest he wanted to appear the fool, he obeyed her command. He went to stand afore her, but then proceeded to sit precariously on the bike so she could reach him. She turned around to face him and secured the helmet. He would have preferred his chainmail coif and iron helmet to what must look ridiculous upon his head.
Jenna began to give brief instructions on how to be a passenger on the motorcycle, and Fletcher attempted to pay attention. Do not move suddenly. Lean into the curves. Basically, he was supposed to sit still, although he had no idea how that was going to be humanly possible. He felt as though he were about to crawl out of his skin.
“Ready?” she asked.
“If we must, then, aye, I am ready, my lady,” Fletcher said, wondering, not for the first time, how he would survive this outing.
She kissed his lips afore putting down his see-through visor. Turning a key, the bike roared to life. A gasp escaped Fletcher as he automatically reached for his sword that was, as usual of late, missing from his side. The metal beast underneath them began violently shaking and sputtering. The only thing Fletcher could think of was how the hell could this day become any kind of a fun adventure when he was ready to become unhinged.
Jenna put on a pair of leather gloves and then proceeded to grab his hands. She guided them around her waist. “Hold tight, sweetheart. I’m taking you on another ride of your life.”
Afore Fletcher could respond, Jenna coaxed the beast to move and the machine began rolling down the street. He clutched her to him even tighter, especially when the bike picked up speed. Letting go of her never became an option, for Jenna was the only one that was keeping him sane. When they hit her freeway, he began to pray in earnest. There was no form of protection from the other cars speeding down the road. He did not even want to think about what was left of the bug that had hit his own visor. The greenish-yellow splat was another grim reminder that his vision was impaired. Modern technology could end tomorrow, and ’twould not be soon enough for him.
He wanted to go home, although he had not as yet voiced that suggestion aloud. Even inside his own head, his protestations sounded as though he were a child who was not getting his way. ’Twould be foolish to not at least make an attempt to enjoy the experience Jenna was providing for his entertainment.
Time passed by, and, after a while, Fletcher began to at least slightly cease his fear that he would fall off. Jenna was an accomplished rider of this motorcycle of hers, although ’twas still not something Fletcher cared to experience again. They drove once more over the golden bridge that was red but soon left the freeway, once on the other side. They stopped briefly to take in the view of her c
ity, and Fletcher admitted that it was an incredible sight. He had no notion of how people made their livings there or existed in such an overly crowded city. He had always thought London in his time was too busy for his taste.
When they continued their journey, Jenna told him they were going to stop at the park service visitor center so they could view the exhibits before heading to the campground. The tunnel carved from a mountain had Fletcher attempting to find his breath, especially when Jenna revved the engine so the sound echoed loudly off the walls. They did not tarry long at what she called, “the Marin Headlands.” He had hoped to walk along the ocean beach, since Rolf’s words continued to echo in his head, but Jenna wished to set up camp afore nightfall.
The landscape on the ride to the campground took Fletcher by surprise when she first stopped at Hawk Hill to allow Fletcher a marvelous view of both Jenna’s city and the ocean far below the cliff they stood upon. He now had a perspective of how massive the golden bridge truly was, and Fletcher had a moment of awe as he attempted to imagine how it was built. She waved her hand as she told him about Fort Point sitting at the base of the bridge on the opposite side of where they stood. Fletcher hoped she would show him the structure when they returned.
After they had made their way down a steep road, Fletcher dismounted to unlock the combination deadbolt on the campsite gate using the numbers Jenna had procured when she made the reservation. Having dispatched the task according to her instruction, he swung the gate wide open. Jenna proceeded to park the bike whilst he secured the entrance. As they set up camp, Fletcher thought he would not have expected a campground to be so close to a thriving city in these modern times, not to mention hidden away beneath the massive bridge. And when he scoffed at the thought of sleeping in a plastic tent, Jenna assured him it would be cozy, for the nights were cold, especially if the fog rolled in.
With a roaring fire afore his feet, he watched Jenna whilst she prepared something for them to eat. She certainly knew what this camping business was all about, and, for the first time since he landed in this time, he felt…well…comfortable.
His belly full, and with a dark beer in his hand, Fletcher pulled Jenna towards him. She molded herself to him like a second skin. Her contented sigh told Fletcher much. He, too, was most content to be holding his lady.
“We should have speech, Jenna,” he murmured, setting down his beer and turning so he could gaze at her directly.
“I know,” she agreed with another heavy sigh.
She sat up, pulled her dark hair back from her face, and threw another log onto the fire. They sat in silence for another minute as red embers sparkled like rubies whilst night began to grace the earth. ’Twould be dark soon.
“I do not know how to say this to you without you somehow feeling offended,” Fletcher began with a worried frown. He did not wish to upset his lady, but he knew not how he could avoid it.
“You want to go home.” She gave him a timid smile.
His eyes widened that she could read him so well and know what was inside his heart without ever having said the words aloud. “You knew? How?”
Jenna picked up a large stick and began poking the fire. “I knew the minute I walked into the church yesterday and saw you at your prayers. No one prays like that anymore. Even the priest remarked on it. I knew right then and there that you would never really fit in here, not that you wouldn’t try with all your heart on my behalf.” She set the stick down and gave a little shrug. “You want to go home, to your own place in time, that is, and not mine. I felt it as surely as I took my next breath.”
Fletcher nodded, for the church had been when he had known as well that ’twould be possible to return to whence he came. “I should not ask this of you, for I almost fear the answer. I know how much you will be giving up here with your modern marvels, but, will you return with me, Jenna? Will you travel back in time, if ’tis possible, and live out your days as my lady?”
Fletcher watched her eyes mist over. He was prepared for her answer. Honestly, he was. How could he blame her for wanting to stay here with all this technology, along with having her mother close at hand? What he was not prepared for were her tears that began streaming down her face. He reached out to wipe them away, and Fletcher knew his heart would never be the same once he returned to his own place in time…without her. To be rejected by yet another modern woman would be his downfall. His one chance at finding love had failed.
“Fletcher,” his named whispered in a soft caress took hold of his soul. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek where her thumb moved back and forth in some form of comfort, he supposed. Fletcher took hold of it and lovingly placed a kiss in her palm.
“There is no need to explain, my lady. I understand your need to stay.”
Jenna took hold of both his cheeks. Leaning forward, she gave him a chaste kiss. “Stay…yes, I wish to stay…with you, you silly man. How could you think for even a second inside that medieval head of yours that I wouldn’t want to stay with you?” Her smile, this time was radiant, whilst tears of happiness, he hoped, poured from her eyes.
“You do?” his voice shook with his astonishment that she would give up her modern life to join him in the past.
She folded herself back into his arms, and Fletcher embraced Jenna as though he would never let her go. “Of course, I wish to stay with you, good sir. You’re everything I have ever dreamed of in the man I would someday come to love. You think I’m going to let eight hundred years separate us ever again?”
“But what of your mother and Amy?”
She placed her hand over his heart, and he covered hers with his own. “They’ll understand. I love you, Fletcher. I’m afraid you’ll just have to be stuck with me for the rest of your life.”
Fletcher tipped her chin with his fingers so he could stare into the depths of her eyes. They shone with happiness and love. “For all of eternity will I love you Jenna.”
He leaned down to capture her lips to seal their fate together. Fletcher knew not what their future held, but as long as he had his Jenna, he knew he would be content. How they would go about arriving back to his own place in time, he had no idea. That phenomenon he would leave up to God and Rolf, knowing neither would let him down.
Chapter 35
Traffic whizzed by as mother and daughter held on to one another for what was most likely the last time. Wiping the tears from her face, Jenna put on a happy face for her mother’s benefit. She wouldn’t let the woman’s last sight of her daughter be one of having tears streaming down her cheeks.
“T-thanks for understanding, mom,” Jenna stammered, already feeling the pull that she was about to break her oath to remain strong. She gave her mother another deep hug.
“I’ve only always wanted you to be happy, sweetheart.” Jane took Jenna’s face in between her palms and stared at her as if to memorize every plane. “I’ll just miss you, that’s all.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” Jenna took a deep breath as she heard the trunk to her car slam shut. Fletcher had a couple of backpacks slung from his shoulder. He had been ill at ease to be taking what he had called her “future gear” back in time, but there were just some things that Jenna wasn’t going to do without. Since she had a choice this time around, she had packed a few things. Not a lot, but just enough to give her a taste of her own time for as long as it lasted.
Fletcher appeared stunned when her mother threw her arms around him in a tight grip before she wagged her finger at him. “You better take good care of my baby girl. I’m putting my trust in you for her care.”
“’Tis my honor to be entrusted with her wellbeing, my lady. I assure you, and make this vow to you, she will want for nothing and be well protected,” Fletcher stated with a short bow.
“You think I only care about what your money can buy her? I don’t care about that kind of stuff, only that you love her. You do love her, don’t you, Fletcher?” Jane asked with narrowed eyes to see if he would speak the truth.
Fletcher put his hand
to his chest. “Aye, madam, I will love her, and only her, for all time.”
Jane gave Jenna one last hug then leaned back against the car before giving Fletcher a final warning. “You better keep your word, or I’ll come find you.”
“Mom, you don’t have to stay and watch this,” Jenna declared, swinging the straps of the backpack onto her shoulders.
“Yes, I do.” Jane’s voice trembled with tears swimming in her eyes. “Now, go on you two, before I change my mind about you leaving.”
Jenna and Fletcher held hands as they began making their way down the steps and onto the sand of the beach. Amy followed several paces behind.
“Just how exactly do you know this is going to work again?” Amy asked bewildered.
Jenna shrugged, still not believing they were having an actual conversation about time travel. She glimpsed at Fletcher, and he had the same knowing look upon his face. “We just do.”
“Still gonna wait here and see it for myself,” Amy grumbled irritably. Amy had argued with Jenna until her friend had turned blue in the face knowing she hadn’t been able to change Jenna’s mind about leaving.
Jenna reached back to bring her friend beside her. “You could always wait with mom. I’m sure she’s only barely holding on and could probably use the company, not that she’d ever admit it.”
Amy wiped at her eyes. “I’ve already talked to her. She understands why I want to be right with you until the very end. You’re all I’ve got, Jenna. I mean, you’re more than a friend. You’re my family. You’re the sister I never had.”
Jenna collected Amy into her arms as they cried on one another’s shoulders. “Sisters fight,” she muttered in between her tears. “You’re better than that, Amy. You’ve been my very best friend for our whole lives.”
They both must look a sight, Jenna thought as she observed Amy’s red-rimmed eyes and reddened nose. Reaching into one of the side pockets of her pack, she pulled out a couple of tissues and handed one to her friend. Blowing their noses, they attempted to smile for one another. Jenna knew her expression was only a shadow of what she was feeling. She linked her arms through Fletcher’s and took one last look at Amy.
