For All Time

by J. M. Powers

  “Who is that?” Sage whispered.

  “He owns the tavern.”

  “The girl.” With each step closer, Sage could see just how beautiful she was. Long red hair, swaying in step with her panther-like sashay. Boobs—much bigger than hers—just about spilling over the neckline of her dress. Sage sidled closer to him. “She looks mad.”

  “Nay, madness does not come into play here. That woman is a lost soul.” He smiled at Sage. “Let us get out of the cold.” He took her hand and started to turn away.

  Sage looked over her shoulder. The woman hadn’t slowed her pace.

  “Sir Cade! Wait!”

  He sighed, stopped, and turned to face her. Even his scowl was sexy, Sage noted.

  “I searched for ye at the celebration. Some say ye disappeared.” Her voice was exquisite. Soft and gentle. “Sweet man, ye were nowhere to be found.”

  Sweet man? Sage raised her eyebrows at him.

  “Aye, ‘twas with good reason ye did not find me. I was—“

  “With me.” Sage put up her hands, as if warding her off. “And you need to step back. I have way too much to process without adding you to the mix.” Her voice cracked. Don’t cry. Just focus on a way home.

  “Hm.” The woman’s smile didn’t reach her cold eyes as she ignored Sage’s request. She returned her attention to Cade. “Ye know well how I can pleasure ye.” She flipped back her braid, nearly slapping Sage in the process. “Much better than this harlot.”

  Harlot? The volatile mix of jealousy, confusion, and fury boiled within Sage overwhelming her with urge to punch Ms. Big Booby-wench’s full, perfect lips. Maybe even knock out a tooth or two. Sic Tex on her. He’d probably lick her to death though. A stab of awareness, the only clarity of the day, exploded in her chest. Tex! Shit. Where was he? She turned from side to side, worry overriding her anger.

  Cade wrapped his arm about her waist and pulled her close. “Dare not utter another word about Sage. Ye offered thy wares to many at the New Year’s celebration. Remember? So the harlot, my dear, is not the maiden beside me. ‘Tis ye.”

  Sage noticed his twitching jaw and was sure he had stuff to sort out. But dammit, she didn’t care. She jerked on his sleeve. “W-where’s Tex?”

  “I shall find him for ye.” Cade took her hand, gave a nod to the woman, and turned to leave. “God be with ye, Margery.”

  “Dare not leave! I must tell ye...” The woman kept shouting, tendrils coming lose from her braid and framing her face. “I nay longer—” Margery stopped when Cade turned and rushed back toward her.

  “Margery, cease thy screaming.” He looked pissed, but kept his voice low and even.

  “My business at my father’s tavern... I intend to tell him I shan’t continue.”

  “Humph.” Sage regretted her disdain immediately. She was the stranger here and though it killed her to admit it, these two had some kind of history. She mentally stepped back, her heart still tied to Cade.

  “Ye know well why ye always sought me out. And paid extra coin.” Margery touched Cade’s cheek. “It was because you knew a good wife I would make.”

  His mouth dropped open. “Wife?”

  Unable to decide just what to do or say, she twined her fingers through Cade’s. He gave her hand gentle squeeze and smiled at her.

  “Sage, forgive me for my rudeness. This is Margery.” He turned his back on Margery and whispered, “She works at the tavern.” He hesitated a moment then his words came out in a rush. “I was a customer of hers.”

  A customer? Oh please let her be some kind of barmaid.

  The red haired beauty tapped his shoulder. “May I ask who thy companion is? She is quite boyish. Did ye hire a new stable hand?”

  That was it. Sage shrugged off her cape, but before she could act on her impulse to wrap Margery’s braid around her wrist. Cade shouted, making both her and Margery jump.

  “You shan’t speak of Sage in such an ill manner!”

  Margery’s green eyes filled with tears. “Oh Cade, I beg thee to understand why I say such things—and forgive me for my wicked tongue.”

  He hesitated. “Margery, ye are an old friend. I have naught to forgive.” The tenderness in his voice ripped through Sage... until he motioned to her. “For ‘tis Sage’s forgiveness ye should beg for.”

  Shit, why did she allow herself to be pulled into this drama? Cade seemed to read her distress and kissed her brow. It eased her worry somewhat, but she still wanted to escape from the confrontation. From everything but him.

  Margery clutched her hands. “A stranger’s forgiveness is naught. ‘Tis thy mercy I need, Cade.” She spoke softly, earnestly. The chill that shot through Sage had nothing to do with the winter air. This woman loved Cade.

  He shook his head at Margery. “Do ye not see? I am not one to judge. We had our time, and ‘twas simply business. I never professed anything more.” He took her hand. “But that business is at an end. Ye have chosen...”

  “The life of a whore?” Margery looked up through her long lashes. “Ye think I chose that? Can ye not find it in thy heart to forget my actions with those men at the New Year celebration?”

  Wow. She sure knew how to avoid an apology. Sage gritted her teeth. Woo-sah, Sage. She tried to calm herself to keep from going off, knowing her short lapse in judgment would only bring her to Margery’s level. She snatched up the cape. Cade took it from her and wrapped it about her shoulders.

  Sage wanted to take Cade by the hand and drag him away. At the same time, she needed to see how he handled this situation. How he treated women, no matter who they were.

  “Margery.” He closed his eyes a moment. “I was going to say ye have chosen to change thy life. I wish thee well. Take thy leave and live however ye wish, my friend.”

  “Very well.” A smile brightened her face. “Then I shall live it with ye.”

  In synchronized shock, Cade and Sage looked at each other, then back at her. It struck her funny. No, don’t laugh. Not now. He’d never understand. She didn’t even understand why she picked now to get tickled. This whole thing was unbelievable. What had she walked...er...traveled into? A big mess full of drama, that’s what. Was any of this even real?

  “Mead was the culprit. I knew not what I was doing,” Margery continued, her voice cracking. And for a moment, an itsy-bitsy moment, Sage felt sorry for her. “I speak the truth.”

  “Banish the happenings of thy past transgressions. It matters not. Ye do not owe me the truth or otherwise.”

  “I love ye.” Margery’s eyes filled with tears.

  Now this was downright pitiful. Sage almost reached out to her.

  Cade inhaled deeply. “Angels in heaven, give me strength,” he murmured, pulling Sage closer. “Ye know not of love, Margery. However, I hope ye find it someday.”

  Impressive. Sage was glad she bit her tongue. Cade was tender even though she saw his jaw clench a couple of times. He possessed patience, kindness and didn’t raise his voice—except when he defended her.

  Sage smiled, her heart filling with pride. Both for herself for resisting opening a can of whoop ass and toward Cade and his patience.

  Margery’s features crumpled into a furious scowl, marring any beauty she possessed. “Ye smile at my pain? I shall stab ye in thy sleep.”

  Stunned by the abrupt change in Margery’s tone, Sage was at a loss for a snappy comeback.

  Cade glared at Margery. “And I shall wrench thy dagger from thy grasp before ye draw near.”

  Sage kept looking from Margery to Cade. “What is it with you people and daggers? I don’t know, or care to know what the hell is going on. Well I do, but...” Not quite what she meant to say. “Margery, step away from my man.” Her man? Again, her mouth had no filter.

  “Whose man?” Margery stepped closer.

  “Mine. I traveled a long way to be here with him.” If the woman even had a clue how true it was she would faint on the spot.

  “Oh, did thy clothing fall off on the way?”

 
Sage pulled the cape closed and flipped her off.

  “Cease that!” Margery held up her hands, shielding herself. “Is that a spell?”

  Why did everyone think she was a witch? Oh well, right now it’d work to her advantage. She waved both middle fingers.

  Margery backed a step, tripped on her hem and fell on her bottom so hard, Sage filled with remorse. The older man returned just in time to snatch her from the ground and pull her from a carriage’s path.

  Cade’s eyes were filled with awe. “What a wondrous spell!”

  “I’m. Not. A. Witch.” She poked his forehead with each word. “Get that through your head.”

  “Very well, but...” He raised his middle finger and turned his hand from side to side. “Do ye use this finger to make one leave?”

  She grinned. “Yeah, you could say that.” She guided his hand down, her smile faltering and her patience thinning. “What the hell was that all about?” She shook her head. “Forget it. I don’t think I want to know.”

  “Ye are distressed. I shall explain about Margery now.” He spoke so quickly his words ran together.

  She winced at Margery’s name passing his lips. “Screw her. No, don’t.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. The flood of confusion muddled her mind. “Where was I?”

  “Surrey—nay—New York.”

  She threw up her hands. “I want to go home. With my dog. Where is he? How did—was it the kiss that brought us here?” She sucked in a breath.”And who was that dude? And what was with Margery?” She could see he was trying not to smile. “It’s not funny. I have no idea where I am and before I can figure anything out she comes over here and tries to—”

  “Calm down. I can explain. I think.”

  “Calm down?” She poked him in the chest to drive home her words “Don’t even go there.”

  Cade looked around. If he asked where he should go she’d scream.

  Movement caught the corner of her eye. Margery glared at them from across the lane and Sage flung her hand toward her. “Seriously?”

  “Ignore her.” He sighed. “Sage, I—”

  “Did you plan this? Did you know all along what would happen when you kissed me?” Or know she’d fall for him?

  His brown eyes narrowed. “Damnation, woman. I planned naught.” He motioned across the lane. “Margery is naught.” He threw up his hands in exasperation, the inflection on the word once more. “Naught makes sense!”

  “No shit.” Her body shook with terror—or was it bewilderment? She decided it was both.

  He tucked a stray lock behind her ear. “Though ‘tis selfish, I thank the heavens I did not journey home without ye.”

  “W-what?” She shoved his hand away, taken aback at the way her heart responded to his touch. “Just kiss me again.” She grabbed his tunic and led him back into the empty alley. “Hurry.”

  A flicker sparked his eyes. “Ah, now I see. I did not think of it ‘til this moment.”

  “What, kissing? Your old girlfriend? That friend of yours? My dog? There’s a lot to think about here, don’t you think?” She knew she pouted, but didn’t care.

  He pulled a small pouch from his belt and dropped something into his palm. “’Twas not our kiss that brought us here, but this.”

  She peered into his hand. “A rock?” She stared at it for a moment before slowly looking up at him. “Cade, I’m seriously considering throwing one at you at this point. A much bigger one.”

  He sighed. “Lend me thy ears, if but for a moment, woman.”

  She crossed her arms. “Fine, but don’t talk to me like that. I have a name, you know.” She kind of liked how he called her Woman. How barbaric. And hot.

  His nostrils flared. “Very well, Sage.” She loved his accent, especially the way he said her name. “A bit of patience while I explain.”

  She motioned for him to go on.

  “That man, Wren?” He waited for her nod. “He is a powerful sorcerer.”

  “A what?”

  “Sorcerer. He gave me the stone.”

  She blinked. Opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

  “Do they not have sorcerers in New York?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, a sorcerer is one who can conjure—”

  “I know what a damn sorcerer is!” She held up her hand. Tears threatened. Hell no, she would not cry. “Just tell me why you’re showing me a rock that guy—sorcerer—gave you.” She’d always pictured a sorcerer as a bearded, decrepit old man wearing a pointy hat, his eyes shooting flames. Okay, maybe nix the flames. She was a bit disappointed that Wren didn’t vanish in a plume of smoke instead of walking away. The silly thought kept her tears at bay.

  “I was trying to. But ye interrupt—”

  “I can’t help it.” She yanked the cape tighter around her but it didn’t do much to ward off the incessant wind.

  He pulled her close. “I should have fetched that coat.”

  She relished his warmth, his scent. “Why do you smell so good?”

  He thought a moment. “I bathe?” He pressed his forehead against hers. “Now, do ye fare well enough to listen? You look upset.”

  “You think?”

  “I do.”

  Sarcasm was lost on this man. She cuddled underneath his chin. “Go on. Explain.” Yeah right. How could she listen with his arms wrapped around her? She took a step away. “I’m listening.”

  “Wren rewarded me with the stone—though I thought it an odd gift at the time.”

  “Rewarded? For what?”

  “I rescued his daughter from drowning. Her celebratory ball was last eve.” He frowned. “Or mayhap longer—but time may have held while I was gone.”

  God, couldn’t he explain this later? She just wanted him to kiss her to bring her home to her dog. At least it was warm there. She settled for snuggling deeper into his arms while he continued.

  Two dimples graced his cheeks. “Ah, what a pleasure, fair one.” He bent and she inhaled his woodsy scent. A shiver ran through her when he brushed his lips on hers. “However, kissing ye distracts me,” he whispered. “Do ye not wish to hear the rest?”

  She grabbed his neck and kissed him hard then looked around. “Damn. That didn’t work.” Oh but it did, just not the way she intended. Her body responded, her pulse quickened, but they didn’t travel back to the nature reserve.

  Cade shook his head. “Wilt thou cease thy spells long enough to listen?” He continued without waiting for an answer. “Now, about the celebration—”

  Was he waiting for her to interrupt? She pursed her lips, a smile itching to escape.

  He grinned and continued. “He held it on the first day of the new year for his daughter’s birthday.”

  “Is she another of your girlfriends?” she blurted.

  “She is but four years old.”

  “Oh.”

  He chuckled. “Do not fret, I do not have a woman, a wife, nor a maiden who captures my heart. Never have.”

  Something tore inside her soul. What about me? “Yeah, well about that rock.” She lowered her voice. “And you say I ramble.”

  “Nay, ye said that. Not I.” He ran a finger along her forehead. “Do not frown, fair one. I adore the ramble of thy words.” He tipped his head to meet her eyes. “I shall do my best to explain everything.”

  Explain why your touch reaches straight to my heart then.

  “Wren freely partook in the festivities—the food, the music, the wenches.” He raised his brow. “But even more so of the ale.”

  So now he was talking about the drunken sorcerer with a bird name. She had a feeling this was going to take a while. The whole time her dog was probably searching for her. Still, she loved the cadence of his voice, his accent, and the tender way he ran his hand down her back as he spoke

  Dammit. She loved him.

  “Why do ye look at me like that?” Busted. Her emotions must be written over her face.

  She grinned and pulled him deeper into the alley—and farther away from M
argery, who was still watching them from across the lane. “About the Wren dude,” she prompted.

  “Wren’s wife died several years since, and he thought it time to find a soul mate. So he created this stone.” He held up the stone, which was shaped like a heart. How original.

  When she touched it, she was surprised to find it was warm—or maybe she was frozen solid. Shivering, she peered closely at its shine, which gleamed as if it were intermixed with stone and gems. “Beautiful,” she whispered.

  “He was drunk, and I figured he merely needed to believe in the stone. I listened as a friend would, and accepted it when he said he could not bear to use it.”

  “So you decided to use it?” He knew? And yet didn’t tell her?

  “Nay. I forgot he said it would carry my heart to find true magic...and true love.” His face flushed. “He witnessed my guests’ antics at the ball and said I needed assistance in my choice of women.”

  “Would that guest be marry-me-Margery?”

  He ignored her question. “I angered at his presumption, but then Wren gripped my arm and said I deserved a true and pure love and naught would come from the foolish ways I sought a companion. I knew not of the glory of love.” His gaze met hers.

  She wanted to dance, shout, and celebrate his love. Wait. He didn’t claim he loved her. Not really. “So, what are you saying?” The words trickled out her mouth. “Do you think I’m that woman?” Please, please, please say yes. She began planning how she would explain her odd boyfriend when they returned to her island.

  “I am merely repeating what he told me. I know it sounds foolish.”

  It made sense to her. But now she feared it didn’t mean anything to him. “Go on.”

  “Not wishing to offend, I graciously thanked him and tucked it into the pouch on my belt. Later, I was drinking with my fellow knights—”

  “You’re a knight?”

  “Ye are interrupting again.”

  She pretended to lock her lips with a key, and then tucked her arms back under the cape.

  He gave her a curious look. “As I said, I was with my fellow knights and I took out the stone to show them. The last thing I recall before I awoke in that tree is laughing about the story while rubbing it between my fingers.”