Timeless Christmas Romance: Historical Romance Holiday Collection

by Laurel O'Donnell

  “Shhh,” Michael snapped, tilting his head to hear what the lord said.

  “Michael!”

  “Quiet, Gabe!” he hissed.

  Angry, Gabriel pushed forward through the gathered knights and lords toward the mounted men and Lord Chandos. Surely, her father would listen to him. He saw footprints! Before Gabe could reach Lord Chandos, he spurred his stallion and with an explosive burst led the mounted men forward toward the outer gatehouse.

  Gabriel silently cursed. He let an exasperated breath escape in a puff of white. Maybe they would find the footprints on their own, after all, they were trained knights. Maybe the tracks were nothing but animal prints, after all. He had wanted to at least alert them to the markings.

  Then, he remembered the little girl trying to get her mother’s attention earlier at the party in the Great Hall. They didn’t listen to her, either.

  Cursing, he turned and pushed his way through the remaining peasants and nobles, past a man who was dusting snow from his impeccable cotehardie, around a rather well-endowed woman who was shivering, to dash for the stables. He entered the open doorway and quickly found the stall his steed, Thunder, was in. He didn’t bother saddling him but pulled himself up onto his bare back, straddling the animal, before spurring him toward the door. Perhaps he could catch up to the soldiers. He charged out the inner ward, through the outer ward, and beneath the portcullis of the open outer gatehouse. The air was crisp and cold against his cheeks and bare hands. He blinked against the onslaught of falling snow.

  Gabriel urged Thunder on, charging over the drawbridge. He brought his steed to a halt just over the drawbridge at the road that stretched beyond the moat. He looked for the line of soldiers and men down the main road, but they were gone. He tugged on Thunder’s mane and steered him down the road before the moat at a slower pace, surveying the pure snow for the tracks he had seen. As the road curved, he saw them. He cantered his steed to the footprints. Beneath the light of the snow and glowing sky, he saw that they were not animal tracks. They were two distinct sets of small impressions with distinguishing swirls around each from long skirts. Gabriel spurred his horse forward, following the line of footprints into the forest.

  Once in the darkness of the woods, he was careful not to trample the footprints. But it wasn’t long before Thunder could move no further because of the closeness of the trees and twigs. Gabriel dismounted and walked into the forest, carefully following the line of footprints around trees and leafless bushes. The snow came up to the tops of his booted feet. His hands were freezing and he continued to open and close his fingers to keep them warm.

  He hoped nothing happened to them. He hoped they were okay. There were wild animals in the forest, hungry animals. And the girls were so small. Easy prey.

  “Eve!” he called.

  His voice echoed through the quiet night.

  He wished he had at least grabbed a dagger, so he could use it against wild animals, or perchance a blanket. But he never expected to be out looking for the girls. He swatted the branch of a tree aside and it snapped, breaking in the cold. He looked back toward the castle, but could not see it. He had come a long way. The girls had come a long way. Why had they come out here? He paused, surveying the icy landscape. It was silent and deadly beautiful, a frozen picture of the forest. He breathed warm breath on his cold fingers and rubbed his cheeks. He moved forward, following the tiny footprints.

  And then, the forest opened to a magical, frozen pond. The water glimmered in icy splendor, the banks and trees covered in a blanket of thick white snow. Large drops of white floated from the sky. Gabriel followed the trail to the bank of the pond. Dread washed over him. Had one or both fallen into the frozen pond? He swept the water with his eyes, but the coating of ice over its darkness was undisturbed. He saw the tracks veered off toward the distant trees.

  He moved quickly, trailing them. “Eve?” he called. “Eden!”

  In the distance, beneath the branches covered in white, at the base of one thick trunk, he saw a small black lump. He raced toward it, his feet kicking up the wet heavy slushy snow. “Eve!” As he neared, he saw two small piles.

  Gabriel knelt before them, reaching out to one small girl. Her fingertips were bare and blue, her face pale. Gabriel turned to the other girl. Her hands were tucked beneath her arms, her dark hair frozen and stiff.

  He shook her. She did not move, and he felt horror and fear fill him. He shook her harder and her hands fell from beneath her arms. “Eve!”

  Her eyes fluttered and then opened to slits. A small grin slid over her lips.

  She was alive! Gabriel swept her up into his arms, trying to warm her cold little body. He picked up the other girl, one over each of his shoulders and raced back into the forest, following his own tracks this time. He held them close, pulling them tight against his head for warmth, holding them around their waists. He was aware of how stiff their hair was against his neck. If their hair was that frozen, their bodies must be more so.

  He mumbled words to them as he ran. “We are going home, now. Don’t worry.”

  Neither girl uttered a word, neither moved.

  Gabriel’s hands were numb. The snow seemed to suck at his feet, slowing him down, but he pushed forward. He stumbled once beneath their weight and went down on one knee. He pushed himself up, grimacing and continued on. He was very much aware that the young girls were in mortal danger. That even though he found them, even though one had moved, both could still die. “Don’t leave. You won’t get to see the Yule log.” They were heavy for him, but he refused to rest, refused to stop even for a moment. He was panting hard, forcing his legs to work and move through the snow. His trembling limbs clutched the girls to him. “I’ll tell you a story. A most amazing story.” He would say anything to get them not to pass.

  He emerged from the forest to find the snow falling even heavier. He looked for Thunder and found him standing close to where he had left him. He had expected nothing less from the horse he had raised on his own from a colt, but still he was grateful to see him. He hurried to his steed, and paused.

  How was he to mount with the girls? There were no stirrups to place his feet. He eased one girl onto Thunder’s back and held her there with a trembling hand as he put the other girl beside her.

  Thunder stomped the ground.

  “Easy,” Gabriel whispered, his breath forming a white puff of smoke.

  Gabriel took hold of Thunder’s mane. He tried to keep his arm across the girls’ backs so they wouldn’t fall. He pulled himself up onto Thunder’s back.

  Thunder whinnied and stepped backward.

  One of the girls began to slip from the horse.

  Gabriel released Thunder’s mane and grabbed the girl’s dress, pulling her into his arms. He held the other child on Thunder’s back by pressing his arm across her back as he took up Thunder’s mane again and urged the horse back across the valley, toward the castle.

  It was awkward, holding one of the girls couched in the crook of his arm as he leaned forward to clasp Thunder’s mane, holding the other child on the horse’s back with his elbows. He just knew he had to get them into the castle.

  As the steed moved, Gabriel happened to look down at the girl’s small face. So pale. So peaceful. Her long lashes rested against her red windburned cheeks.

  “Don’t go,” he whispered to her. “We are almost home.” And he meant it. He didn’t want the little girl to die. He had seen death in animals, a wolf eating a rabbit, and in humans, his uncle had died from the blow of an axe. But never in such an innocent, little child.

  Thunder raced across the drawbridge, his hooves pounding over the planks of wood, and through the outer ward, into the inner ward. Gabriel swung his leg around and dismounted, sliding from the steed. He reached back up for the other girl, taking her around the waist. He was breathing heavily as he ran up the two steps into the keep. He looked left and then right, but the corridor was empty.

  He glanced down at the girl he was holding facing hi
m. Her eyes were closed, her lips blue. He had to get help! Where was everyone? His arms were trembling from cold and the exertion. He looked up to find his brother standing before him. His hair was dry, his clothing untouched by the weather. “Michael,” Gabe gasped.

  Michael’s gaze moved from him to the girls. A second passed.

  A shiver of cold moved through Gabriel. He was grateful Michael was there, he was his older brother and could tell him what to do, what he was supposed to do.

  Instead, Michael swept up the girl bent over his forearm and then took the other child from his hold. He whirled and started toward the large double doors of the Great Hall.

  Stunned, Gabriel stood for a moment watching Michael enter the room. Gabriel shook himself and followed him. Before he reached the room, a cry arose from inside. He stumbled to the doors to find a large crowd around Michael. He was being patted on the shoulder, congratulated. His arms were empty.

  Gabe’s gaze swept the room until he saw another group racing toward the stairway that led to the upper chambers. He caught sight of one of the servants holding one of the girls in his arms. Her dark hair was damp, but it moved from side to side, no longer frozen.

  “Well done, Michael!” Their father was saying.

  Shivering, Gabriel entered the room. A hound rushed up to him and began licking his icy fingers.

  “You will be well rewarded for this!” his father continued.

  Shocked, Gabriel skirted the outside of the crowd until he could see Michael’s face between a thin lord and an armored knight. Why wasn’t he telling them? Why wasn’t Michael telling them he had not found girls?

  Michael shifted his gaze to lock eyes with Gabriel for a moment and quickly turned away.

  Shock and betrayal sliced deep like the sharp tip of a sword to his gut. Disbelief filled Gabriel. Michael was taking credit for finding the girls! He had no intention of telling them the truth. He was going to let them shower him with fake praise and prizes.

  Gabriel should tell them! He should tell them all it was not Michael who had found them, he had! That it was he who had saved the girls!

  Gabriel stood for a moment, his fingers no longer icy, but curled into hot fisted rage. It would serve Michael right to be humiliated and disgraced. He glared at his brother for a moment longer before his shoulders sagged and his chin dropped to his chest. He couldn’t do it. Not to his older brother.

  Disgusted and disappointed, Gabriel turned away and walked from the room, pausing to look toward the empty stairway where the girls had been taken. Gabe only hoped they would recover.

  Chapter One

  14 Years later

  “You did it!”

  The slap on the back caused Gabriel to half spin to see his friend, Henry Lewis, towering over him in full plate armor. He held his helmet in his hand, his dazzling blue eyes twinkling with merriment. His brown hair was plastered to his head with sweat. “You doubted me?”

  Henry chuckled, balking. “Never! Still, Fletcher put up quite a match. He almost had you there.”

  Gabriel remembered the moment Fletcher’s joust had hit his shoulder so hard that he had almost spun completely off his horse. He had teetered precariously, clutching the reins. If Thunder, his horse, hadn’t moved to the side, he might have very well fallen. He rubbed his shoulder still feeling the impact and the soreness in his muscles. “Almost.” It didn’t matter now because in the end, he had sent Fletcher to the ground. He was the champion.

  He weighed the prize pouch in his hand. Well worth it. He tied the pouch to his belt. He cocked a grin at his friend, satisfied with this year’s winnings. “We celebrate tonight!”

  Henry hooked an arm around Gabriel’s shoulders. “You know how I long for a warm ale and even more, for a willing wench. But there is another little woman that I miss sorely. Have you given my suggestion any more thought?”

  “She’s more important than a pretty girl?”

  Henry smiled. “I have no desire to abandon a wanton wench, but I also have no desire to be caught in the cold.” He put his hands on Gabriel’s shoulders. “The nights are getting longer, my friend. Snow will start soon. We can’t be stuck on the roads when that happens. You must decide.”

  Gabriel patted his friend’s shoulder. “Over a warm ale and stomach swelling meal.”

  Henry swatted his cheek. “If you are paying!”

  “I am!”

  Henry laughed. “You know a way to a man’s heart! Let me get out of this armor. Where is James?”

  Gabriel watched his friend walk around the knight’s tents scattered in the clearing in search of his squire. Gabriel sighed. The last tournament of the season. The thought was bittersweet. He let his gaze wander over the colorful tents. These knights were his friends and he would miss them and the rivalry of the joust. It would be a long, cold winter of practicing and honing his skill for next season. There would be young knights, untried knights, who would think they could beat the eldest and most experienced knights. He would have a lot of competitors next year.

  He turned back to his own tent. He loved the joust, the comradery, the contest. But he knew deep down the best thing about the joust was that it took him far away from his home. Now, that the last tournament of the year was over, and the Yule was approaching, he had to decide whether he would be too busy to attend his brother’s wedding.

  Eve stared at the beautiful tapestry hanging on the wall in the hallway. It was the depiction of a tournament, frozen in time when the lance of one of the knights struck the other. But the joust itself was not what enthralled Eve. It was the vibrant colors. The rich reds of the flowers along the bottom, the striking blue of the sky, the pure white of the lances. It was a gift for her wedding from her aunt. It was so beautiful, precise and skilled that she could not wait to hang it. And now that it was hung, she could barely look away from it.

  “I didn’t know you found jousting so fascinating.”

  Eve half turned, without taking her gaze from the tapestry. She knew it was Michael, her betrothed, by his familiar deep voice. “It’s so full of life. So…vibrant.”

  “Hmmm,” Michael mused, staring at the tapestry. “I see it as a warning about how dangerous jousting can be. What if that knight that was hit by the lance…” He pointed to the embroidered knight. “Died from the fall or from injuries he sustained?”

  Eve looked at Michael. His brown gaze was locked on the tapestry, his golden hair hung to his ears in the latest bowl-cut fashion. Was that all he saw? She couldn’t believe he only saw the joust and not the skill of the embroiderer. “There is so much more than just –”

  “I see it as a tapestry of death.”

  Eve’s heart dropped at the thought, her entire being rebelled at the idea. Didn’t he see the color and the life in the tapestry? “But the flowers –”

  “The artist of this tapestry clearly does not focus on flowers. It’s the power and the darkness of the fight. See where the focus of the mural is?”

  Flowers of a multitude of color lined the entire tapestry. Perhaps the focus was on the joust, but there was also a love of color and life sewn into the picture.

  “I can’t fathom what you find appealing.”

  Eve had learned to close her mouth when Michael expressed his views. He didn’t listen to her, anyway. It wasn’t worth trying to get him to understand her opinion.

  “I am going hunting with some of the men, dearest. I trust you will not be bored while I am away.”

  She would never be bored when he was gone. She did things he did not approve of, like read. He believed a woman had no place reading. She did not need to gain knowledge. She only needed to keep the castle in order and have children. But she couldn’t help the interest in history that she shared with her father. One could learn from the past.

  He took her hand into his and bent his head to kiss it, but stopped short. Horror and repulsion widened his eyes and twisted his lips before he could hide it behind disdain. He quickly released her wrist.

  Eve with
drew her hand covered by her sleeve and folded it against her body as he straightened and backed away. He bowed slightly before turning and walking down the hallway, his spine straight, his walk confident. She rubbed her hand. She was certain he didn’t mean to hurt her feelings, but she couldn’t help it. Men greeted him with respect, looked up to him with admiration. He had everything. He deserved better than her.

  For a moment, she stood still as the old feelings of unease and inadequacy rose inside of her. She lowered her head and turned back to the tapestry. The colors would cheer her. Instead, all she saw was the knight falling from the horse.

  Michael had ruined the beautiful tapestry for her.

  But there was one place he could not touch and did not know about.

  The cool air blew over Eve as she stood before the sun-kissed waters of the pond. Winter was coming. Even the mid-morning breeze had a bite to it. She pulled her cape closed around her shoulders. This was her favorite spot. She felt protected here. This was where he found her, tucked beneath the snow-covered branches of the tree behind her. After all this time, she still remembered one image from that night when she had been saved. She remembered the blue eyes that were haunted with concern for her safety. For her. She had survived that night because of her angel. The angel with the blue eyes.

  They were blue eyes.

  Eve grinned and turned from the pond. A small child with curly brown hair stood behind her. Eden. Her sister appeared to her as the child she remembered. Even as she grew into an adult, Eden never changed, suspended forever in time as the young girl. Eve came here often to visit her sister. It was the only place she appeared to her. As if… as if part of her was still here.

  Eve also came here to remember those eyes. Her angel’s eyes. As time had passed, so had her memory of them. She couldn’t really recall if they were blue or brown. Perhaps she had been wrong all this time and the angel eyes were brown. Like Michael’s eyes. Maybe it had been Michael who had saved her.

  Who else could it have been?

  “I don’t know. It had to have been Michael.”