A Knight in Central Park (19 page)

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Authors: Theresa Ragan

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Time Travel

BOOK: A Knight in Central Park
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Alexandra eyed her target.

Rebecca and Susan hid their eyes as if there was indeed that small chance Alexandra might miss.

As soon as Alexandra pulled back on the taut string, Joe leapt off of the log, rolling over dirt and leaves. The arrow hit the tree with a twang.

Joe clutched at his chest, sure that he was having a heart attack. Spitting leaves and dirt from his mouth, he tried to calm his racing heart, but then he froze as the biggest snake he’d ever seen, slithered past him, right under his nose.

He didn’t move, hardly breathed. The reptile was a monstrosity. After the snake disappeared into the woods, he looked back toward Alexandra. She merely cocked a brow and shrugged as if she hadn’t nearly killed him. Turning about, she propped her weapon against the tree.

Joe glanced at the arrow protruding from the tree and saw that she’d missed her mark by a good four inches. And not upward, but downward. Joe came to his feet, went to the tree and pulled the arrow from its trunk. “This could have been my bloody head,” he said with more shock than anger.

“If you had not moved so abruptly,” Alexandra said, “I would have squarely hit my target. Besides, you are alive and breathing,” she said as if he couldn’t figure that much out for himself.

“Garrett,” Alexandra called as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred, “mayhap you could look about, see if these woodlands are good for hunting.”

Garrett snorted. “What about him? Can he not do anything useful?”

“I don’t hunt,” Joe said.

“My father used to say, if you cannot kill it, then you shan’t eat it.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Alexandra sighed.

Susan went about peeling potatoes she’d found in their bags.

Rebecca sniffled.

Joe’s head throbbed as he grabbed a thin woolen blanket and headed for his so-called bed.

A coyote howled in the distance.

The frogs croaked long into the night, through dinner and beyond, outlasting Susan and Garrett’s constant bickering.

Chapter Sixteen
Kids are wonderful, but I like mine barbecued.
—Bob Hope

A
n endless clattering woke him and it wasn’t until Joe opened his eyes that he realized it was his own teeth clicking together. The night air had gone from cold to freezing. The hard ground had left a kink in his neck.

He reached for his blanket until he realized he no longer had one. No wonder he was freezing. Through bloodshot eyes, he spotted Susan across the way, rolling his blanket and packing it with the rest of their things. Rebecca sat on a log, quietly eating a bowl of something hot and steaming, something that smelled a lot like stew. His stomach growled as he came to his feet.

“Good Morning, My Lord,” Susan said.

“Good Morning,” he replied, too tired to argue with the title. He’d been called worse. The fire was nearly out. He rubbed his hands over its meager warmth and noticed that the pot of stew was empty. Every muscle he possessed was stiff and sore. His mouth was dry. He drew his tongue over a throbbing molar; the same tooth that was to be looked at by the dentist today. The last thing he needed was a toothache. He rubbed his unshaven jaw. “Where’s Alexandra?” he asked no one in particular.

“She set off this morn,” Susan answered.

Joe looked about, saw only one horse. “Where did she go?”

“I know not, my lord.”

His jaw twitched. The thought of Alexandra leaving him in the wilderness with a bunch of kids did not sit well with him. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You have no idea where she went?”

“Nay. What do you suggest we do, my lord?”

“Just call me Joe.”

Susan looked confused by his request.

“What is going on?” Garrett asked as he trampled through the brush, holding a long stick with two flat-bodied eels stabbed through the middle.

“Your sister has disappeared,” Joe said as he headed far into the woods to relieve himself. Within a few minutes, he returned. He grabbed his briefcase and placed it inside the bag with the blankets and utensils. “I’m going after her.”

Precious whinnied.

The idea of mounting the horse reminded him that the insides of his thighs were badly chaffed. His head pounded and he knew a strong cup of coffee was the only antidote for that. Tough luck, he told himself.

Garrett laid his stick on the smoldering fire. “She’ll be back,” he gritted out. “She would never have left us with the likes of you.”

“Well, it appears that she did.”

“Why would she leave us, her own flesh and blood, with an old, useless fart who knows not the difference between his fists and his feet?”

“Hey,” Joe said, turning to the boy, “don’t talk like that. Hasn’t anyone ever taught you to respect your elders?”

The kid made a hissing sound, reminding him of the snake, before he added, “You are a fraud.”

“I never claimed to be anyone but Joe McFarland. You on the other hand, claim to be a real boy, but you are a brat.”

Garrett marched away and Joe turned to ready the saddle. A clod of dirt smacked him on the head. Joe whirled about, his eyes narrowing when he saw the slingshot in the boy’s hand. “I was going to let you come along,” Joe managed calmly, “but you just changed my mind.”

Joe felt a tug on the hem of his shirt. This time Rebecca was the culprit. Impatience clung to him like dust and dirt from two days on the road. “What is it?”

Her disgustingly dirty thumb was jammed into her mouth once again as she stared up at him with gigantic eyes. He looked to Susan for help.

“She wants to go with you.”

Joe grunted, ignoring the silent stares he was getting from all three of them as he went to the fire still smoldering within a circle of stones. He began kicking dirt on it. “This is just great,” he muttered. “Your sister drags me five-hundred years back in time.” He scratched his head. “To a place with warriors and castles and fleas; a place without hot water heaters, electricity, or dentists.” He rubbed his aching jaw. “When I find her I’m going to...”

Three pairs of curious eyes looked intently at him, eager to hear what he planned to do to their sister.

He knew what he wanted to do to their sister. He wanted to find Alexandra, take her over his knee and...

Damn it. He’d done everything he told himself he wouldn’t do. Not only had he kissed Alexandra, he’d made love to her, and now he was thinking of her at the oddest times. He had no idea how she’d managed to get inside his head, hanging on to his every thought like a blood-sucking leech.

My God, he thought next. What if she was pregnant? What was wrong with him? It was as if he was put in some sort of trance when she was around. Here he was, out in the woods, surrounded by a bunch of kids, and he was lusting after a woman who had left him high and dry. He was a fool. He kicked another clod of dirt onto the fire for good measure. It wasn’t his tooth or the coyotes or even the kid’s bickering that had kept him up last night. It was Alexandra.

The intimacy they had shared changed everything between them. He’d seen it in her eyes, felt it in his chest. Looking down at his hand, he remembered the silkiness of her skin beneath his palm.

Grunting, he headed for the horse. He needed to find Alexandra and help rescue her sister before it was too late. Before he did something really stupid like fall in love with the medieval woman. He would keep his distance. No more love making, no kissing, no gallivanting in the lake. No talking unless completely necessary.

“What are you going to do to Alexandra?” Susan asked, her voice quivering.

“You have naught to worry about,” Garrett said snidely, answering for him, “when Sir Joe finds our dear sister he’ll most likely pull his sword from his sheath and then kiss her soundly instead.” Garrett visibly shuddered. “Though the deed ’twould be punishment enough for our dear sister, I admit.”

Joe didn’t bother looking Garrett’s way. If nothing else, the boy provided a nice distraction from the pain in his tooth.

Susan frowned. “You are limping, my lord. Can you ride?”

“Sure, yeah, I’m a regular Shoemaker.”

Susan cocked her head. “You are a shoe maker?”

He shook his head, not wanting to bother explaining the famous horse jockey. “No, never mind.”

Susan’s puzzled expression disappeared as she hurried to gather the rest of his things.

“Help me with this saddle,” he said to Garrett.

“What do I look like, a stable boy?”

Joe smiled. “Yeah, you kind of do.”

“I shall help you,” Susan quickly offered in an attempt to keep peace between them. “How will you find Alexandra without a guide?” she asked in all of her sweet innocence.

Joe crossed his arms. “Nice try.”

Susan tossed a blanket and the lightweight saddle over the horse’s back, then untangled the straps and tightened the cinch.

“Alexandra knows these parts like the back of her hand,” Garrett said. “She probably took a shortcut. You will never find her without our help.”

Joe looked at the boy. “Why would you want to come with me? You’ve made it clear you don’t like me.”

Garrett shrugged. “Why were you kissing my sister if you have no plans to stay?”

“Do you always answer a question with a question?” Joe asked.

“Do you?”

“Stop it you two!” Susan’s cheeks blossomed with color. “If we plan to find Alexandra we must set off.”

“What do you mean if we find Alexandra?” Alexandra questioned as she came through the dense brush with a dead pheasant slung over her shoulder.

Joe narrowed his eyes. “Where have you been?”

Garrett gestured toward the pheasant. “’Tis obvious, is it not? I knew full well she’d be back.”

Joe felt a wave of impatience as he studied Alexandra critically. For the life of him, he could not recall ever feeling so frustrated, so damned angry. “Why didn’t you tell anyone where you were going?”

She looked tired, her face pale and drawn as if she were close to falling to her knees in exhaustion. “What if you had gotten hurt? We had no idea where you’d gone.”

“I apologize.” She plunked the dead bird to the ground. “Everyone was fast asleep and I could not find sleep myself. We needed food and so off I went. I did not mean to cause you worry.”

“Well you did and if it happens again...” He stopped at the first sight of blood on her torn skirt. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

The children closed in, everyone looking at Alexandra’s tunic where dirt mingled with blood.

“I had a small bout with a boar. ’Twould have provided enough food for days had I caught the beast.” She held her hands wide. “Bigger than Rebecca I tell you.”

Joe had the first-aid kit out by the time she finished her next sentence. He tied back her skirts and used the damp cloth Susan handed him to clean away most of the dirt and blood. He twisted the cap from a tube of ointment and rubbed some of it on the wound. Thank goodness there was no gaping wound, only a few scrapes and some discoloration.

Alexandra tried to ignore his nursing of her injury, tried to ignore the hot waves sweeping through her every time his fingertips glided over her skin. “Its tusks were long and sharp,” she told Rebecca, but her sister had already gone back to playing with her toy.

“Does that hurt?” he asked.

She shook her head.

His fingers went round and round, smooth and warm against the tender area of her calve. Her injured leg put her off kilter, forcing her to place a hand on his shoulder for balance. Did he too lie awake last night thinking of their lovemaking? Or was he too angry with her for refusing to return the children to Brookshire? She considered apologizing until she stubbornly reminded herself that he was the one who owed her an apology. Ever since the kids had arrived, he had been surly. But even her ire failed to stop her heart from thumping against her chest as he continued to lend his aid, each touch making her toes curl. She looked about, hoping to find something else to focus on.

And that is when she saw Garrett, standing there, eyes narrowed, fixing her with a piercing glare. “Why don’t you two just take yourselves behind the bushes and have it over with. This boundless flirting and lusty play,” he said gesturing toward Sir Joe’s hands, “is too much for me to bear. ’Tis obvious you can’t keep your hands off one another and since there won’t be matrimony between you—”

Sir Joe stood so fast, he nearly knocked Alexandra over. Even Garrett was taken aback by the fierceness of his glare as he loomed over him. But Garrett stood his ground and puffed out his young chest, all but daring Sir Joe to set his wrath full upon him.

“I’m tired of listening to your smart mouth,” Joe said.

“And I am tired of you acting the part of my father.”

“Oh, I see.” Joe scratched behind his ear. “If you had a father, then why didn’t he ever teach you any manners? Or could it be that you scared him off with your endless whining?”

Nobody said a word. Even the birds, Joe realized, seemed to have busied themselves with their nests suddenly.

Garrett’s cheeks flushed and his eyes appeared suddenly haunted.

Alexandra reached out for Garrett, but it was too late. He ran off before she could stop him.

Joe glanced at Susan who quickly averted her gaze as if she might turn to stone if she dared look at him for too long.

Even Rebecca had looked up from her doll, reminding him of her existence. She might not talk, but judging by the poignant look on her face, she could damn well hear.

To hell with them all, he thought as he went to put the ointment away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rebecca scramble to Alexandra’s side and cling to the hem of her dress as if he might harm her in some way.

“Okay,” he said, unable to stand the damnation he saw in their faces. He clicked his briefcase shut. “What did I do now?”

“He’s sensitive about Father,” Alexandra answered. “He has convinced himself that Father might not have gone off to fight for the king if not for him and thus has taken full blame for our troubles these past years.”

Joe raked his hands through his hair. The kid had needed to be told off, but Joe hadn’t meant to be cruel or insensitive. He knew what it was like to be a young boy without a father. He didn’t wish that empty pit of a feeling on anyone. He sighed. When he got a chance, he would talk to Garrett. Maybe he could help him understand he’d been there too and that life goes on.

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