by Lexi Post
Dusting her hands off, Kat opened the kitchen door only to stop. Standing outside were Janna, Ria, Nora and Liesbeth and it appeared they had been about to knock. “Well, it looks like I have visitors.”
Janna stepped forward. “You do. We’d like to talk to you.”
“Of course. Come in.” She stepped back and they filed into the kitchen.
“Please. Have a seat.” She gestured to the large table and couldn’t help the heat that filled her body at the memory of the last time she used that particular piece of furniture.
After everyone was seated, she sat at the head. Determined to keep the conversation brief, she didn’t offer them anything to drink. The visit was so unusual, it couldn’t be good.
Ria cleared her throat. “Let me come right to the point. We want to know what your relationship with Stephen’s brother is.”
“My relationship? I didn’t know I had a relationship with Stephen’s brother.” Kat looked them each in the eye. “I do have a relationship with Stephen. He is a friend. I don’t know Braeden yet, and I may never know him. So if that is all?”
“So you wouldn’t mind if we pursued him?” Janna’s look of triumph would irritate even the most docile heifer.
“Of course I would mind. You heard what Jurgen said at the meeting. An Oldtimer cannot court a Newtimer.”
Janna pouted. “Who put him in charge? There are no rules about that. At least, I haven’t seen any.”
Nora piped in. “Even if there were written rules, it’s not as if you could read them.”
Janna gasped. “Are you calling me dumb? I’d say you were the dumb one for wanting to pawn off one of your girls on poor Jurgen. He’s almost old enough to be their father.”
“Ladies. It is not about rules. It’s about timing.” Kat stood and set her hands on the table. The subject was one she’d contemplated most of last night as she lay in her bed missing Braeden. “You cannot marry a Newtimer because by time the courting was complete and the wedding planned, the Newtimer would be dead!”
The silence that followed made it clear the ladies hadn’t given the situation as much thought as she had. “Liesbeth, is this why you came as well?”
The young woman with the mousy-brown hair and large hazel eyes shook her head and looked down at her hands.
“Why did you come to visit me, then?”
She spoke to the table. “I was looking for Max.”
Kat’s heart constricted. Max didn’t realize what was right in front of him because of his consuming fascination with Newtime. As much as she sympathized with him, she hated to see Liesbeth so lost. “He’s not here. His grandmama had him stay home last night and he has not arrived yet.”
The woman nodded, quietly rose and walked out the door.
Kat wanted to cry. Here she was, wanting a man who wanted her and she couldn’t even contemplate such a thing while Max ignored poor Liesbeth’s heart. There weren’t many people of the same age in the village, and the two of them rubbed along well. Max could love the woman if he would live in his own time. Irritated, she turned back to the three women at the table. “Did you have any other questions?”
Ria spoke up. “Yes. Why are you spending so much time with Braeden if you cannot marry him?”
“As I said at the meeting, he was the Headless Horseman. I always help the new Van Brunt get used to the role. You know that.”
“That may be true, but you have never gone to the festival with them. Yet you have done so twice with Braeden.”
Kat dropped her head and spoke to the table. “That’s because he asked me to.” She raised her head again. “Did you want me to tell him I wouldn’t?”
Janna pushed her loose blonde hair behind her ears. “I could have shown him around the village.”
Ria pounced. “Yah, and into your bed.”
“Well, if he wants to see that, I’m certainly not going to stop him.”
Kat slammed her palms on the table. “Enough! The man is not a piece of meat. He is a Newtimer who has been kind enough to play the Headless Horseman role for the festival.”
“So if he is going to be the new Headless Horseman, why is Stephen here?” Nora’s dark eyes showed true curiosity.
It was a question Kat had been asking herself since yesterday. Yes, she had reassured Braeden that Stephen brought his family occasionally, but if Stephen had told Braeden he wanted to spend time with his family instead of riding, then why was he here? “I don’t know for sure. Perhaps he just wants to make sure his little brother does it right.”
Ria shook her head, causing her dark curls to bounce. “There is nothing ‘little’ about that man.”
Kat sighed at the inane comment but Nora spoke up. “But only we would know if the Headless Horseman rode as he is supposed to. Stephen wasn’t here when Brom first rode. Only we were. I think it’s something else. Maybe Stephen is here to ride and Braeden is here for Kat.”
“What?” Kat stood straight.
Nora looked at the other two women and nodded sagely. “Jurgen says the man won’t let any other woman near him and is constantly holding Kat’s arm. He’s not too happy about that either, Kat.”
“Truly. Well then, I guess Jurgen should take a long swim in Cramer’s brook. That man just won’t take no for an answer. And now he is trying to stir up trouble for Brom—I mean Braeden—by spreading idle gossip?” Kat swallowed hard as all three women shook their heads.
Ria placed her hand on Kat’s arm. “I hope your heart isn’t mixing him up with Brom.”
The sympathetic look the woman gave her almost broke her, but she wasn’t a piece of china. “No, I’m not confusing him with Brom. Brom is never far from my thoughts, but Braeden, for all that he is built like Brom, he—”
“And he looks like him too.” Janna looked for clarification from the other women and received unanimous nods.
Kat placed her hands on her hips. “No, he doesn’t, if you look beyond his muscles. He has amber eyes, not gray ones. He doesn’t have a cleft in his chin like Brom did and his nose is straight, while Brom’s was crooked.”
“Not that you remarked on it.” Janna giggled and the other two women smiled knowingly.
“God in de Hemel, I’m done with this idle gossip. I have an inn to run and you three ladies have stalls to ready, so I suggest we all get to work.”
Ria grumbled under her breath but rose from her chair, and the other two ladies followed suit. As they filed out the door, Nora stopped and faced Kat. “If you truly don’t want Jurgen, I will suggest him to my daughters.”
“Your daughters? Isn’t he a bit old for them?”
Nora’s brow furrowed in worry. “Yes, but who else? Except for Max, there is no Oldtimer who is the right age. I want so much for my girls to be happy, but as the years progress for us, I fear that may not be possible for them.”
Kat put her hand on Nora’s shoulder. “I understand. You have my full blessing to pursue the man.”
The halfhearted smile the widow gave Kat had her mind spinning in a direction it had never gone. She’d always been adamant about preserving Oldtime as it had always been, but there were serious problems with such a philosophy that she hadn’t thought about.
She gave a quick final wave and walked around the corner to gather more wood from the large pile Braeden had left her. Pulling up her apron, she added two more split logs. It had been nice of him to do the chore for her even though she hadn’t exactly asked him. The more she learned about Bro—Braeden… Oh Lord.
Chapter Eight
Braeden hit the lock button for his car and strode toward the stables. He loved his brother and his family, but being with Kat was more important to him right now. He’d found himself anxious to leave the concrete little city and return to the woods. He breathed deeply as he crossed the threshold into the stables. Something in the smell of hay fired his blood.
A horse nickered toward the back of the barn and Braeden grinned. That had to be Daredevil. He patted the pocket of his wool jacket, makin
g sure the apple he’d taken from the hotel lobby desk was still there as he approached his new favorite horse.
“Did you miss me, boy?” Braeden reached the stall door at the same time as the horse. Daredevil whinnied before pushing his nose against Braeden’s chest.
“Hmm. I’m guessing you smell something you want. Smart horse.” He reached into his pocket for the apple.
“A lot smarter than the man who rides him.”
Braeden spun to find Jurgen leaning on a pitchfork behind him. “What’s your problem now?”
“My problem is you.”
Braeden grinned. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Huh?”
He shrugged. “I’m always getting challenged by guys smaller than me because they think they have to prove something. Since I only mildly want to carpet the ground with you, and since you’re a friend of Kat’s, or rather nosey neighbor of Kat’s as she put it, I’ll refrain from any violence on your person.”
Jurgen’s knit brow made it clear he didn’t understand. “I think it’s time someone taught you that you can’t come into our village and steal our women.”
“Really?” Why did he suddenly feel as if he were in an old spaghetti western? The question was, should he be John Wayne or the Lone Ranger? “I didn’t realize I was stealing anyone. In fact, I thought I was doing you a favor by riding as the Headless Horseman. I expected maybe a thank-you card, not a threat.”
Jurgen’s face turned to one of confidence as he looked to his right and left.
Braeden glanced to both sides and silently groaned. Shit. Three more men had come into the barn and they were obviously ready to kick ass, his in particular. The strangeness of the scene was the period clothing the men wore. The breeches with suspenders and loose shirts with handkerchiefs tied about the neck made for unique brawling apparel. All three had dark hair and two wore it in short ponytails. It appeared he would be fighting the founding fathers’ sons instead of modern-day men.
He hated this. It was senseless and someone could be seriously injured, including himself. Braeden smiled as he heard Daredevil snort and stamp his feet. At least the horse had his back.
Jurgen picked up the pitchfork.
The situation suddenly became a lot more serious.
“Don’t worry, we just need to mess with your face a little so you don’t look so much like Brom.” Jurgen swung the pitchfork toward Braeden’s head.
Self-preservation came into play fast. Braeden grabbed the handle as it came at him and twisted it before slamming the pitchfork against Jurgen’s side.
The man crumpled to the ground, but two took his place.
Braden threw down the pitchfork and crouched, ready for the next attacker. Both moved to his sides, splitting his attention. He backed up a step. The man on his right stepped too close to the stall and Daredevil chomped on his ponytail.
The other man took advantage of the distraction and threw a punch toward Braeden’s face. He ducked and the man’s momentum sent his hand into the stall door.
Jurgen was rising, rage clear in his eyes, but Braeden couldn’t spare a moment as the other man lunged at him. With practiced ease he kicked out, catching the man in the gut. Braeden spun just as the pitchfork came at his neck. He shielded himself with his forearm and felt the bite of the prongs as they scraped through his skin.
“Halt!”
He glanced toward the open doors at the back of the barn. Ludo stood there with some kind of rifle in his hands pointed directly at Jurgen.
“You four men get out of here before I have the town throw you in stocks.” He gestured to the front with the gun. “Go!”
Jurgen’s three buddies started walking toward the exit, but Jurgen wasn’t easily cowed. “He threatens our way of life and you defend him?”
“The only threat to life in here is this flintlock and the only life threatened is yours. Having a man come to the village for festival is no threat.”
“But Katri—”
Ludo stamped his hard boot on the floor. “Godverdomme! Katrina is a grown woman and she can make her own decisions. Just because you don’t like them doesn’t give you the right to take them away. Now get out of here. My finger control ain’t what it used to be.”
Jurgen’s gaze moved to Ludo’s hand where it clearly shook. He blanched. Giving Braeden a final scowl, he turned on his heel and strode from the building.
Braeden leaned against the stall wall. “Thank you.”
Ludo let the rifle barrel fall toward the ground. “My pleasure. Jurgen’s been a little out of sorts lately. Not sure what we’re going to do about him.”
“Maybe he just needs a different woman to occupy his obsession.”
“Maybe. Damn, but my hand is shaking bad. Good thing I never loaded this flintlock or someone might be dead now.”
Braeden swallowed hard. “It wasn’t loaded?”
“Nah, my reputation from the war is enough for these men to fear me.”
“Which war?”
Ludo ignored the question and strolled forward. “Are you hurt bad?”
He’d forgotten about the pitchfork already, but now that Ludo pointed out his wound, it stung like hell. “I don’t know.”
“Come over to my tack room and we’ll treat that. It looks bad.”
Daredevil nudged the back of his head. He grinned despite his pain and turned around. “You did great, boy. You deserve this.” Gingerly reaching his right hand into his pocket, he brought out the apple. Shifting it to his left hand, he gave it to the horse.
Ludo rolled his eyes. “You two are like different branches of the same tree. Come.”
Braeden gave Daredevil one last pat. “See you tonight, boy.”
* * * * *
Kat wiped the perspiration from her forehead before pumping more water into her bucket. As she lifted it to lug into the kitchen, the bell at the front desk rang. Setting the bucket down where she was, she strode to the kitchen door.
The visitor rang the little bell again. By the saints, didn’t anyone have patience anymore? It had to be a Newtimer. Just as she put her hand out to push open the door between the kitchen and main room, the bell rang again.
“Will you give a person—” She stopped. Braeden leaned back against the desk with a smile as wide as the Hudson River.
“I couldn’t wait to see you.”
Self-consciously, she tucked in the stray strands of hair about her face. “I wasn’t sure you would be back. The rumor is that Stephen is here to be the Headless Horseman.”
His smile fell. “What? No. He just needed to talk to me about some important news he had from a good friend of mine.” Braeden straightened and walked toward her. “He couldn’t reach me by phone so he came here. I’m not even sure he’ll stay to see the ride tonight.” He’d reached her and cupped her face with both hands. “I couldn’t wait to see you again.”
As his lips descended to hers, a stirring of need filled her, both physical and emotional. Once he made contact and his tongue breached her lips, she melted. Her body took over and she looped her arms around his neck.
He explored her mouth with confidence, his tempered strength surrounding her. He pulled back to kiss the side of her lips, her cheek, her jaw. “I missed you.”
His whispered breath sent tingles of excitement spiraling from her ear into her heart. “I just saw you yesterday.”
He lifted his head to gaze into her eyes. His had darkened to mahogany. “But I wanted to spend the night in your bed.”
“Sleeping?”
He laughed. “No. Exercising.”
She leaned back in his arms. “How can you exercise in my bed?”
“Ah, let me count the ways.”
She shook her head. Maybe the man was mad.
“You really don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?”
“Should I?”
He stepped back, taking most of the heat with him. “What’s going on?”
“Huh?” She frowned. “What do you mea
n?”
“I mean this whole village disappears. There’s nothing modern within miles of this spot, I get attacked by four men still dressed in eighteenth-century clothing and I’m defended by a horse and a man with a flintlock, and now you have no clue what I mean by exercise in bed.” He ran his hand through his hair, bringing her focus to a white bandage wrapped around his forearm.
She stepped forward and grabbed his hand. “You’ve been hurt.”
He pulled away. “It’s nothing. I’ll have it checked when I get home.”
She made for his arm again, but he pulled it out of reach. “Braeden, who attacked you? What happened? If you’ve been cut, we need to clean it. I have turpentine.”
“Turpentine? Don’t change the subject.”
She crossed her arms over her stomach and backed away from his anger. “What is the subject, exactly?”
He studied her, his keen eyes measuring, analyzing, trying to read her thoughts, and she looked away.
“Where do you live?”
Ah, that was the subject he wanted to know about. “Why do you want to know?”
“Damn it, Kat. Don’t answer a question with a question. You said you would tell me when no one was around. I don’t see anyone, do you?”
She examined the room to stall for time. She wasn’t supposed to tell him. If she did, she put their whole village in jeopardy. Their way of life could change. That was if he even believed her. Everyone who stayed at the inn was at the festival, so if no one walked in, there would be no reprieve. She held her breath as she brought her eyes back to Braeden.
“I live here.”
“That much I figured out.”
She dropped her arms. “You did?”
He sighed, clearly frustrated. “Yes, I did. It’s your grandmother’s inn, which you run. You have a bedroom in it with every worldly possession you own including a Victorian mirror, which I might point out is not from the late eighteenth-century period you’re so proud of, and your parents live farther down the main road on the farm you grew up on.”
