by Lexi Post
“What?”
“You said you didn’t want me to go ‘yet’. I figure if you never wanted me to leave, you would have simply said you don’t want me to go.”
Even as he said what was supposed to be a joke, she could see him struggle with his thoughts.
“No, I meant that I want you to stay—”
The grandmother clock sounded 11:45 p.m.
She stared at him, desperately trying to keep her tears away. Maybe if she held him tight enough. She pulled her hips up, disconnecting them, and slipped to his side. Wrapping her arm across his chest and leaving one leg between his, she laid her head on his shoulder.
His arm came around her and locked her against him as he closed his eyes. Within minutes, his breathing grew even.
She listened to the silence of the night and the heartbeat of the man she didn’t want to lose. What did that mean? How could she care so much for him? She loved Brom with all her heart, but now that feeling was like a treasured toy from childhood, always loved but no longer relevant. Did that mean she loved Braeden?
She tensed. What good would that do her? She’d be left heartbroken again. Even if he did return, he’d grow older in just months of Oldtime. Despite the hopelessness, she continued to hold him tight. Her heart wouldn’t listen to reason. She wanted him to stay. There was time later, when he was gone, for her to take out that treasured toy again and bask in the memory of her first love.
The clock in the hall bonged. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of Braeden’s body, his warmth and the steady cadence of his heartbeat. Through every stroke, she kept her ear pressed to his chest until the last bong ceased.
Chapter Ten
Braeden’s steady heartbeat continued.
She hesitantly opened her eyes, afraid her mind played tricks on her. The black hairs on his chest greeted her as they raised and lowered with his breathing. She squeezed his body against her in joy and he mumbled in his sleep.
He was still in Oldtime! He was still with her! Happiness filled her soul. The last time she’d been so filled with joy was the morning of her wedding day. That fateful day that time split in two.
Why was he still in her bed? He’d disappeared last weekend even though he was in the very same bed. Frowning, she stared at the bedpost as if it could answer her. Why was this Sunday different?
Oh darn. The village. This wasn’t right. What would everyone say at the meeting in the morning? What did it all mean? Worried now, she glanced at Braeden’s relaxed face. He was so handsome in his own way, not as rounded as Brom. The lines of his face, hands, even his muscles were more defined. Of course, she was the only one to really see this.
His overall personality spoke of control and yet he was somewhat retiring, almost hiding away from life, while Brom would attack it. Once again the question came, but now it was more important. Now it was whether she loved Braeden for who he was or did she love him because he replaced Brom for her? She gazed at him. Her heart said it was him, but her head kept asking the question and she couldn’t answer, even to herself.
Laying her face back on his chest, she closed her eyes. Maybe after a good night’s sleep in his protective arms, she would know her own heart. At least, she hoped so.
* * * * *
Braeden watched Kat’s fidgeting as he finished his coffee. She was like a hummingbird, flitting here and there about the kitchen. He’d finally made her sit down to eat, but after a few bites, she did nothing but fold and refold her napkin. He placed his hand over hers. “Worrying won’t change anything.”
She pulled her hand away and sat back. “I’m not worried.”
“Yes. You are.” He raised his hand as she was about to argue. “You haven’t remained still for a full second since we woke. Tell me why you’re worried about the villagers’ reaction to my being here this morning. Is it because you fear they will know we slept together? We don’t have to let them know that particular detail.”
“No. Yes. No, I mean, I don’t want them to know that. I’m unmarried and it is not accepted. But that is not why I’m worried.”
“Then why?”
Her gaze met his for a moment before she was folding her napkin again. “It’s hard to explain to a Newtimer how our village works.”
He grasped her hand again. “Kat.”
“Ugh.” She stood and paced the small confines of the kitchen. “I guess the more you know, the better prepared you’ll be.”
She wrung her hands, an action he’d never actually seen a woman do. He found himself growing more concerned and determined to protect her, from her entire village if he had to.
“You need to know this town is very superstitious. For over four years Oldtime, that’s more than two hundred years Newtime, this village has disappeared from Newtime on Sunday at midnight and no Newtimer has ever been here on Monday morning. That you’re still here attests to the fact something has changed, and no one will think the change is good.”
“Hold on. You honestly believe I was supposed to disappear last night.”
She nodded.
He couldn’t accept that smart, intelligent, hardworking Kat believed her village disappeared from his time. “And the rest of the villagers believe the village disappeared last night, and so I shouldn’t be here?”
She nodded again.
He shook his head. “Then maybe we should check and see if it did or didn’t. You are basing your belief on the fact I am here.” He couldn’t believe what he was about to say, but he could think of no other way to reason the situation out. “What if we are still in my time as opposed to me disappearing with you into yours?”
She stopped pacing. “You’re right.” She started pacing again. “But even if that were true, you’re still an anomaly and that is never good here.”
He stood and grabbed her arms. “Let’s figure out which it is, okay?”
“How?”
Good question. As he hesitated, her shoulders slumped. Shit, he hated to see her so defeated. Hold on, there was a way. “If my truck is still parked in the dirt lot, then we are in—what do you call my time?”
“Newtime.”
“Okay, and if my truck is gone, either someone stole it or we are in…”
“Oldtime.”
He grabbed her hands and held them tight. “Whatever is happening, according to your village, we will face it together.” He didn’t think anything was happening, but Kat’s nerves were real and for such a spunky woman, that bothered him.
“Why? It’s my fault. Why would you stand with me?”
He dropped her hands and cupped her face. “Because for the first time in my life, I have found a woman who tempers my strength and I can relax, be myself. That intrigues me. Besides, I believe I had something to do with last night as well. You didn’t have sex all by yourself.”
Her cheeks flamed red beneath his hands and he couldn’t resist. He brought her lips to his in a gentle kiss, then pulled her to him. He needed to comfort her.
She pulled away. “Fine. Let’s go see what time we’re in.”
Now that was the Kat he knew and lov—liked. He liked her a lot. Yeah, that’s how he felt about her. “Okay.”
He pushed the kitchen door open so she could precede him into the main room.
“I better fetch my cloak and cap. It’s cold this morning. The water had ice on it when I went outside earlier.” She headed for the hallway to her room.
“Damn, I forgot to bring a coat. All I have is the cape from the Headless Horseman costume.”
Kat stopped in midstride. “No.” She turned to face him. “Don’t wear that. I have a chest upstairs in the front bedroom filled with clothing guests have left behind. Why don’t you check that and see if there’s anything large enough, though I doubt there will be anything long enough.”
“Good idea.” He climbed the stairs, careful to duck his head, and found the vacant room with the chest. After laying everything aside except what appeared to be an old brown blanket, he pondered the pil
e of clothing. There wasn’t a single modern item in it. In fact, he had no idea what some of the items were supposed to be. Did Kat only allow villagers to stay at her inn?
Reaching into the bottom of the chest, he lifted out the brown material. As it unfolded, it was clear it was some kind of gentleman’s coat made of wool. It was a bit worn in places, but it appeared large enough. Placing his arms through the sleeves, he shrugged it on. It had a high, folded-over collar and the sides buttoned at his chest, but then they cut away sharply at his waist to give him tails in the back. It reminded him of the tuxedo that he wore once to a company event.
He returned the other clothes to the chest before taking a quick look around to see if there was a mirror, but the room boasted neither that nor an armoire. He’d have to check it out in Kat’s later.
He shook his head as he descended the staircase. It concerned him that Kat believed there was some kind of time warp in Sleepy Hollow. It would just be his luck to discover the only woman he connected with had hallucinations or some other psychological problem.
He slowed as Kat came into view, her eyes wide and her face pale. He looked over his shoulder. Shit. He’d seen that look a number of times before.
“Brom.” The word was torn directly from Kat’s heart and issued from her lips as if pulled out by the man on the stairs. The love and loss associated with him welled up inside her chest until she couldn’t breathe. Tears gathered in her eyes and she wrapped her arms across her stomach, sliding down the wall at her back until she sat like a spring puddle on the floor.
“Kat!” Brom rushed toward her and she closed her eyes, unable to look at him. Not Brom. It wasn’t Brom. It was Braeden. Braeden in Brom’s old frock. God in de Hemel, where did he find that darn coat?
Braden grasped her shoulders and she opened her eyes to look into his concerned gaze. Tears flowed down her cheeks.
“Kat. What is it? Are you okay?” He brushed at her tears before folding her into his arms.
How could she accept his comfort when she couldn’t distinguish him from Brom? It was wrong. She pushed away.
“What is it? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I did.”
“You mean Brom, right?”
Startled, she nodded, not willing to divulge too much. Why hadn’t she used the material of that coat to make something else long ago? Probably the same reason she’d never cut into the wedding dress still hanging deep in her armoire. She couldn’t seem to sever her ties to Brom.
“Do I look that much like him?”
She studied him and laid her hand on his cheek. “Yes, but you’re very different. I’m sorry. I was just startled. You are wearing his frock.”
He looked down at his sleeve. “Oh, so he must have left it when he stayed here. It’s a nice coat, though I noticed it’s a bit worn in the elbows.”
She gave him a tremulous smile. “Brom was rough on his clothes.”
He stood and offered her his hands. “Are you better?”
She nodded as she placed her hands in his and he pulled her up. “Let me just wash my face and then we can leave.”
Without waiting for a response, she fled back to her room and used the pitcher of water to cool her face and bring some semblance of reason to her mind.
What were the villagers going to think? Would it be better for Braeden to wear the cape of the Headless Horseman? She bit her lip as she tied her cloak. No, the cape would be far worse. Better to face the resemblance head-on.
Striding back to the reception area, she ignored the hiccup in her heart at seeing Braeden in Brom’s frock and straightened her back. If she couldn’t even look at him in that coat, how would she face the villagers?
“Are you ready?” He bowed as he extended his arm for her.
No. Definitely not Brom, who would have taken her by the hand and dragged her outside. She grinned. “I am.”
They stepped out into the crisp, cold air of an early winter. The area before the inn was quiet because people had already begun to gather at the town square. After a quick glance in that direction, Katrina focused her gaze the other way, toward the stables.
They hadn’t walked far before Braeden’s vehicle came into view. Usually on a Monday morning, there would be nothing there. She nudged Braeden to stop. There was no reason to go to it.
“My car means we are still in Newtime, right?”
She looked up at him. “Yes.”
“And you say this has never happened before.”
“Yes.” He looked quite handsome in the coat. Handsome in a different way from Brom. Though she was sure no one else would realize it. There was no doubt his car had already caused a stir. She sighed.
He lifted her chin. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“Actually, it just may be with my village. We better join everyone at the town square. It’s time for our Monday morning meeting.”
He dropped his hand and raised his brow. “Your whole village has a meeting every Monday?”
“Of course. Doesn’t yours?”
He stared hard at her. “No.”
There was a strange look in his eye as if he thought she’d gone mad. “Don’t look at me like that, Braeden Van Brunt, until you have been through one of our meetings. Then you will understand.” She tugged on his arm. “We shouldn’t be late for this. We are bound to be in the middle of it.”
He finally moved, his one stride equaling two of hers. “Why would we be in the middle of all the trouble?”
She shook her head. “Not the middle of the trouble, the middle of the circle. What do you all do in Newtime?”
“Probably more than you want to know right now.”
“True. We need to focus on our defense.”
He slowed. “Our defense? What is this, a trial?”
“No. Not a trial, but they will be asking you questions because you aren’t supposed to be here and neither are we.”
He let her pull him along at a faster rate, but he obviously had no idea what they were about to encounter.
As they drew closer, the loud buzz of conversation trickled to complete silence.
Jurgen stepped aside and swung his arm out toward the center at their approach. “I believe it’s your turn.” He pointedly looked at Braeden’s clothing.
Kat scanned the crowd, noticing it was bigger than usual and all eyes were on them. Some were in shock. This wouldn’t be pleasant. She nodded at Jurgen and started to withdraw her arm from Braeden’s.
“Uh-uh. I go where you go. We’re in this together.”
“But only one person is allowed in the place of speaking at a time.”
He continued to grasp her arm. “If they want answers, they have to take both of us.”
Surprised, she stared. Her whole body warmed at his protective stance at the same time it cooled with the knowledge of the conflict soon to come. His gaze was resolute and it was clear he would have his way. She really didn’t have any say. “Fine.”
His raised brow of amusement didn’t better her mood, but it did get her backbone in place.
They walked to the center of the circle and she faced them toward her mother out of respect. Instead of the chattering that usually ensued when someone took the center, everyone remained quiet.
She took the time to look at each of them. They all stared at Braeden. Of course. The frock. How could she have forgotten already? How could she have—she had. She’d forgotten he reminded her of Brom. He was Braeden.
She smiled inside as her heart warmed with confidence. She looked up at him to find him gazing at her. “Are you ready?”
He nodded and raised his head to stare at the villagers.
She disengaged her arm from his. “As you are all aware by now, we are still in Newtime. Also, you can see Braeden Van Brunt has remained here as well.” She took another quick scan of the crowd to see if Dame Van Brunt was there, but the older lady was still home recovering. That was probably for the best. “The question is, why? Why are we
still here?”
“It’s because of him!” Jurgen pointed at Braeden. “Ever since he came here, things haven’t been right.”
“What?” Kat put her hands on her hips. “Since Braeden has come, our attendance at the festival has increased. Didn’t you hear people talking about the Headless Horseman and how real he seemed last year?”
“Yes, I did, and that is just one way in which he has changed things. You’ve changed, coming out to the festival when you never used to. That isn’t normal. And strange things have begun to happen. Just this morning, the Aldershoe sisters almost had their woodpile fall on them. Right, ladies?”
The ladies in question nodded vigorously before one of them spoke. “That’s right. Marieke went outside to bring in another log for the fire because it is so cold. She took one off the top and the whole pile fell away from the house for no reason. She jumped back just in time, but still fell on the ground.” The lady in question absently rubbed her hip.
Kat’s stomach tightened as people started to murmur and lean toward each other. Murmuring was never good at a town meeting.
“And that’s not all.” Jurgen stepped forward. “Ludo’s papa’s dog is sick.”
The murmuring grew. “And don’t forget, Max tripped on a bucket.”
Kat swung around but couldn’t find who had said that. “Max’s injury happened before today. That has no relevance.”
“But it does.” Jurgen stared hard at Braeden. “It is ever since he came to Sleepy Hollow that things have gone wrong. He’s brought change and mishap. What if it continues? Will we start aging twice as fast? Will we have seasons again? Do we have enough food put away for a winter? We can’t allow this to continue. We must stop it.”
Kat threw her hands up. “Stop what? What is there to stop? We don’t even know how we managed to stay in Newtime instead of reverting back to Oldtime.”
“Yah. You had congress with him.” Dame Vandend’s voice came from behind them. Kat stepped around Braeden to face the old woman, who sat on a bale of hay as usual. Braeden remained silent but positioned himself behind her, showing his support without interfering.
