The Lost Knight of Arabia

by Barbara Baldwin

  Finally he covered her nakedness with his own and she sighed. He stretched her arms over her head which caused her breasts to lift higher to his greedy mouth. The heat rose within her and she squirmed, trying to get even closer, to absorb him into her skin.

  He chuckled. “Have you always been so greedy?”

  She tried to glower at him to no avail. She was greedy. “I want you. Are you saying you don’t feel the same?” To prove her point, she lifted her hips and was rewarded with the feel of his very hot, very hard shaft rubbing against her.

  He gave in, lifting his hips slightly to slide into her, so slowly it had them both groaning.

  When he was fully embedded, he rested his forehead on hers. “Have men and women changed, over the years?” His voice was harsh with passion. “This process, I mean?”

  Bri circled her arms around his neck and lifted her legs to wrap around his lean waist. She kissed him long and hard as she began to move her hips in tandem with his.

  “There has been no reason to mess with perfection.”

  Chapter 12

  Some days I forget I should only be an observer here. The people fascinate me and I fear I get too involved with their lives. Jake has warned me, now that he knows my secret, that we don’t know what impact we have on the future, if we tamper with the past. The fact he is aware of my secret somewhat eases the burden I have been carrying, even though I realize there is nothing more he can do than I can. He does swear the next time I get into the middle of things; he’s just going to leave me. I know he doesn’t mean it – at least I hope he doesn’t. I wonder what happened to him to make him so aloof with those around him. He’s not so much that way with me anymore, but he still keeps his distance from other passengers. In the overall scheme of things, we are doing the best we can, however there are some days he makes me more than mad…

  “You are so…so selfish,” Brianna shouted as she whirled and slammed the door.

  They had been leisurely strolling on the promenade when the steward had intercepted them with an urgent request for help. In some ways, it did not at all surprise Jake as Brianna had become known on the steamer for her kindness. That did not mean he wanted to be involved, especially given the circumstances, and he had told her so.

  He stood across the cabin, trying to remain calm but his heart beat erratically. He clasped his hands behind his back to hide the fact they shook. He could only hope his face did not give away the fact that he was afraid; deathly afraid of what she asked him to do. To disguise that fear, he lashed out in anger.

  “Just because I refuse to allow some vagrant to take advantage of me by making use of my cabin?” God, he wished he had a drink, but there was too much to think about now to while away his time with whiskey. Still, it would be easier to forget when she looked at him with disappointment in her eyes.

  “They certainly are not homeless. The steward said Mr. and Mrs. Avery are right down the corridor in another stateroom. Mr. Avery is beside himself and I can’t even imagine what Mrs. Avery is going through.”

  “Is there not a doctor on board?” There had to be another option, Jake miserably wondered. “Why do you assume you should handle this? For that matter, why in the hell do you think I should be involved?”

  She gave him that look. It was an expression that he swore every woman alive could deliver. It made a man feel two inches high, little better than a bug.

  “I know,” she emphasized the word, “that you have some doctoring skills, although obviously you don’t acknowledge them, much less utilize them.”

  It was easy enough to recall how she had coerced him into fixing little Ben’s broken arm, but this was different. This was two years ago, come back to haunt him, even if it was another man’s wife.

  He watched Brianna grab a shawl and open the door. She paused and looked back over her shoulder. “I can’t begin to understand your demons, Jake, since you won’t confide in me. But Mrs. Avery is having a baby and while that may be a natural process for a woman, she needs, at the very least, our support and concern.”

  He hung his head in defeat. There no use. She had awakened his sense of responsibility which had originally made him turn to the study of medicine. People had told him what had happened wasn’t his fault, and perhaps he had used the incident as an excuse. Regardless, he hadn’t thought he would get jerked back into the reality of medicine by helping to deliver another child into the world.

  “I will not help,” he told her emphatically as he took her elbow and led her out the door. “I think my position will be to assist Mr. Avery in getting properly drunk.”

  She gave him a radiant smile; just another weapon in a woman’s arsenal to assist in the downfall of man.

  * * *

  Bri was totally grateful that Jake was going with her to the Avery’s. She didn’t know why anyone on board thought she was a doctor, although she had helped several passengers as the steamer wound its way along the river. But that was just her nature. Delivering a baby was a long way from giving a young mother and her children some breakfast, or holding a child as Jake set his arm.

  Mr. Avery opened the door at their knock. He was a nice looking young man with sandy hair and a moustache, even though at the moment his hair stood on end as he waved them in with one hand and ran the fingers of the other through his hair. He turned and hurried back to the bed where his wife lay, propped up by pillows.

  “I do apologize for dragging you here without a moment’s notice,” he told them nervously as he grabbed hold of his wife’s hand. Bri thought perhaps he was more nervous about the upcoming ordeal than she was. “Melissa’s time isn’t for another month, and we thought to get to her sister’s in Kansas before her confinement. We only boarded at Wellington. If it had been any further, I would certainly not have undertaken the trip.”

  “Walter, dear.” His wife tried to sooth his agitation with her soft voice. “You really have no control over these things, you know.” She addressed this comment to Bri and Jake with a smile. She was as dark as her husband was fair with midnight hair pulled over one shoulder in a long braid and eyes that might have been blue but were too dark to determine.

  “My own mother told me I was almost three weeks early,” Bri said conversationally as she walked across the room, moving the privacy screen so that it stood between the chairs and the bed. She turned, putting her hands on her hips. “And just look at me; healthy as a horse.”

  Jake had briefed her on the way to the Avery’s cabin, besides which she had seen a video when she took a course in child psychology in college. She never imagined she would have to use what she tried very hard now to remember.

  Melissa suddenly leaned forward with a groan and Bri realized she didn’t have as much time as she would have liked to have Jake walk her through the procedure again. Walter anxiously patted her back, her hand, but seemed quite at a loss, as Bri was sure most men would be in these circumstances.

  She looked over at Jake, who hadn’t moved much further than to just inside the door. His pallor was shocking as Bri had always found him hale and hearty, even when he’d been drinking. She walked quickly over to him, keeping her back to the Avery’s.

  “If you faint, I swear I will leave you where you fall,” she hissed. Her comment appeared to bring his focus around. She didn’t give him time to think. “What was the first thing you told me to do at a birthing?”

  He blinked, finally shifting his gaze from the bed to her. “Get the husband out of the vicinity. They tend to be worthless.”

  “Okay. I really can’t have you leave because I might need your help, so we’ll make do.” She looked toward the bureau. “I don’t see any whiskey here so hurry back to the cabin and bring your decanter and glasses.”

  Mrs. Avery let out a small scream. Bri squeezed her eyes shut. “Hurry.”

  Jake was there and back in just minutes, but Bri used the time to sit on the bed and visit with Melissa. She had no idea what the woman was going through, but it must be bearable in some fashion
or the world would be far less populated.

  “Your sister has children?” she asked.

  Breathing heavily, Melissa slumped back against the pillows, the contraction past for the moment. “Yes, she is my elder sister and has three children already. That is why she couldn’t come to us. This is our first. She was to be my midwife.”

  Bri shrugged. “Well, as you said, we don’t have control over everything in this world.” That was an understatement, she thought, ironically thinking of her own situation.

  Tears formed in pretty dark eyes. “I’m so scared,” she whispered, “but more for dear Walter than myself. He looks quite distraught.”

  “That is why Jake, Mr. Worth, is here. He actually has more medical knowledge than I, but thought you would be more comfortable with a woman. We’ll put him in charge of Mr. Avery, shall we?” She patted her arm and rose to go wash up at the porcelain basin. The water wasn’t very hot and Bri wondered at the old adage about boiling water at a birthing.

  “I can’t be here; can’t do this,” Jake whispered adamantly next to her. “You wouldn’t understand, but I just can’t.”

  Bri didn’t very often get on her high horse, and since being transplanted to the Arabia, she felt she had dealt very well with her circumstances. Now, as she glanced from Jake to Walter, who was pacing and wringing his hands, she just didn’t have time for male silliness.

  “Take Mr. Avery behind the privacy screen with your whiskey and keep him there,” she said in her firmest voice. “Get him drunk if that’s what it takes. Since the male species obviously enjoys the sport involved with producing offspring, perhaps he should also have some idea of what his wife is about to endure. If I need help, you can talk to me from there, but under no circumstances let Mr. Avery come out.”

  Jake gave her an interesting look, but she didn’t have time to pursue it as Melissa gave quite a healthy scream this time. She did, however, catch his quiet comment.

  “You are quite the woman, Brianna Blake.”

  * * *

  Bri was exhausted and she hadn’t been the one to do the work. But it was an enjoyable type of exhaustion; the kind you felt when you’d accomplished something spectacular. And that was what she had witnessed. She had known the rudiments of having a baby, but seeing her born; holding her, was a miracle.

  Though Melissa had packed a satchel with baby swaddling and little sleeping gowns, they had not planned on delivering the baby on board, so had no place to put the tiny infant. Bri had suggested a drawer from the bureau, taken out of course, and so little Christine Brianna, was put to sleep in a dresser drawer on the floor beside her mother.

  “They named her after me,” Bri said in awe later as she and Jake walked the deserted promenade back to their cabin. Well, she walked. Jake was weaving back and forth. Bri was glad there was a railing or he would have fallen to the lower deck, perhaps bouncing on an innocent bystander who would in turn throw him overboard.

  She giggled at the thought.

  “That makes you happy?” His words were slurred. While she had come to the conclusion that Jake didn’t drink as much as he appeared to, tonight was the exception. He was soused.

  “I thought the idea was to have Mr. Avery drink so he wouldn’t think about what was happening on the other side of the screen. I believe you must have drunk more than your share of that whiskey.”

  Jake wrapped an arm around a pole and slowly circled, tripping slightly. She wondered if they would make it back to the cabin.

  “Actually, Avery passed out at the third wifely scream, so I had to drink alone.”

  She stopped and turned to face him. “Why did you drink at all? You’ve been doing so much better with that.”

  He rested his arms on the railing, looking out to the river. Dawn was breaking and the Arabia would begin paddling downstream before long. He looked lonely and sad. The few questions she had asked him during the birthing had been answered hesitantly. His voice had sounded hollow and hurting. He had been hesitant in the past to help when she asked, but she could eventually bring him around. Last evening he steadfastly refused; whatever plagued him coming to a head.

  She hooked an arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder. “Tell me.”

  He sighed.

  “You know my secrets. You owe me yours.”

  He gave a sad, short laugh. “They are hardly the same. You came here by chance; not a choice on your part.”

  “And you?” she countered. “What choice did you make that turned you into a nomad, whiling away your time playing poker and drinking?” She tried to prod him with her comments.

  “My wife died.” The statement was emotionless; flat.

  His announcement totally floored her, and yet it made some things much clearer. Still…

  “And it was your choice?”

  He gave a gut wrenching sigh, turned and started to walk again. His troubled voice sent a shiver down her spine. “You don’t understand. It wasn’t my choice, but I killed her all the same.”

  She would never in a million years have thought Jake had a wife. He just seemed too alone; too antisocial. Now, perhaps, she understood that he had become that way when his wife died. Regardless of what he said, Bri refused to believe him a murderer

  He left her standing at the rail with more questions than answers. By the time she ventured back into the cabin, he was passed out on the bed, still fully dressed.

  * * *

  Jake groaned, thinking surely someone had hit him over the head with an ax. He didn’t know if it were morning or night, but wasn’t about to find out because even the thought of opening his eyes took more energy than he had.

  He heard murmurs, the rattle of china and had a fleeting whiff of coffee. And then the door slammed.

  “Augh!” Even with a pillow over his head, it was too much to bear. He reared up in bed, swung his feet over the edge, and immediately felt his stomach heave. I will not get ill; I will not, he lamented silently.

  “Although it is well after the breakfast hour, I talked cook into making some eggs and sausage, although that looks a bit greasy. Do you wish some?” Her voice was angelically sweet, and extremely loud.

  “I wish breakfast to the devil,” he muttered, holding his head in his hands. The very idea of eating anything turned his stomach yet again. He reached for the pillow just to have it yanked out of his hands.

  There was no help for it. Even with his eyes closed, he could smell her close to him. She poked him in the shoulder just to make sure he knew it.

  “We need to talk.”

  He could only vaguely recall the events of last evening. There was certainly no reason to rehash them as far as he was concerned.

  “Do you realize,” he whispered hoarsely, “that I am dead in your time? Have we miraculously traveled to the future? I certainly feel as though my body is not functioning as it should.”

  The bed bounced beneath him and he clinched his fists.

  “God, don’t say that.” Her voice shook and he immediately felt contrite. Before he could apologize she grabbed his hand. “You have to hang in here with me. I need you.”

  His heart turned over. He had tried so hard to move through life without that responsibility. Now, with a mysterious hand shaking the hourglass of time, she had come to him.

  With a sigh, he pried open his eyes. His vision blurred when he turned to look at her.

  “I am sorry, about last night.” He had no doubt let her down.

  She shook her head, left him momentarily and returned with a cup of coffee which he took in shaking hands.

  “I can somewhat understand your reasons, but I think there is more to your story. You are a doctor, aren’t you?”

  “I cannot claim that distinction anymore.”

  “You are a doctor,” she repeated, “and your wife died. How are the two related?”

  Jake carefully stood and waited for his head to stop spinning. Wanting some distance between them, he carefully made his way to the service cart for more coffe
e. Luckily the dish of breakfast was covered with a silver dome.

  “Two years ago,” he began, keeping his back to her, “we lived in Boston where I had a thriving practice. We were to have a child. But early in my wife’s term, she miscarried. I couldn’t help her; I couldn’t stop the bleeding.”

  He jerked when he felt her hand on his shoulder. Then she slid her arms around his sides to hug him tightly.

  “And so you blame yourself.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I was a doctor,” he exclaimed. “It was my duty to help.”

  “Had you never had a patient die on you before?”

  “That’s different.” But even as he said it, Jake could feel the guilt sliding away. After two long years, he didn’t feel the intense pain anymore. He only felt the gentle twinge of remembrance.

  He turned in her embrace, wrapping his arms around her in return. “Last night simply brought it all back. Perhaps it was time.”

  She looked up at him with soft eyes, her lips curving into a gentle smile. “You stated that you would be dead in my time, but since I have come back to a time where I was not yet born and am the same age, I can only think that if we should get back to 1988, we would be the same there as here.”

  “Do you indeed think we will travel forward?”

  She quieted his questions with her lips, drawing him into a kiss so sweet, so tempting, he forgot all else.

  “Whether we go forward or stay here,” she rested her head on his chest, “I can only hope we do it together.”

  Chapter 13

  Since Brianna’s secret is no longer a secret, she has agreed to allow me to write in her journal in the hopes of making some sense of our circumstances. I do say “ours” as I fully intend to remain part of her life, although the how of that is yet to be discovered. We need to come up with some semblance of a plan, or at least write down some history as we know it. Since I have been aboard the Arabia since Saint Louis and on trips before this one, she feels I may know more than she has simply read about. Perhaps something I remember will trigger a thought as to how the imminent future will unravel.