Chapter 8
Bree watched Horland disappear once more into the trees.
He had something on his mind, and she was certain it was her.
Did she have the same effect on him as he did on her?
Every time she sensed or caught him watching her, her stomach either dropped as if a weight had fallen on it, or her heart flipped like it was some sort of circus performer.
She didn’t even know why her body reacted like that, because most times the look on his face wasn’t admiring but annoyed or confused, as if he was trying to make sense of her.
Of course, that was understandable—she expected she was quite different to women of this time even though she tried to keep modern expressions out of her speech.
But sometimes, his attention was baser, and although she’d never really been in the dating game, she assumed women had an innate sense of whether a man was attracted to her or not. And she did sense that more than once.
The girl tugged Bree’s cloak. “Okay, sweetie, let’s get some of this grime off us, huh?”
The girl took off her coat and turned her back to Bree.
Her dress had buttons down the back and Bree undid them.
She shimmied the dress down her body and onto the ground, then started to pull her petticoat over her head.
“No, I think you should keep that on in case Sir Knight back there makes a reappearance.”
The girl shrugged and stepped into the water.
“Stay near the bank, okay? I can swim but I’m not that good.”
The girl grinned and sat down in the cold water. She shivered and holding her nose, she dipped her head back so the water covered her head.
Bree glanced back in the direction Horland had left. They were alone as far as she could make out. She just hoped it stayed that way.
Bree undressed down to her petticoat as well and glancing around again, she quickly joined the girl in the stream. The girl sat up and giggled, shaking her head, her wet hair throwing droplets of water in all directions including on Bree.
“Stop that, it’s freezing.”
The girl sputtered and stopped shaking, though she kept her smile. She instantly dove her hands down and scooped out handfuls of water over Bree.
Bree screamed and the brat laughed and laughed. Bree frowned. “So, you do have vocal cords. Why can’t you speak?”
The girl shrugged and scooped up more water.
Bree held out her hands to tell her to stop. “At least let me get used to the cold first.”
The girl grinned and washed her own face with her wet hands while Bree dipped her head back and wet her hair. She didn’t have a brush or comb and hoped her curls wouldn’t completely frizz up.
Bree waited and as soon as the girl whooshed her head back out of the water, she swatted water at her face. The girl gasped and immediately returned the favor. They both laughed and giggled as they fought.
Bree couldn’t remember when she’d had so much fun. She really liked the girl and once they’d found her family, she hoped she could stay in touch with her.
Once they’d finished bathing and were back on the bank, Bree collected their dresses and guided the girl into the trees.
They placed their wet petticoats on branches so the sun could dry them and put on their dresses.
Returning to the river, they found Horland waist deep in the middle, trying to spear fish with his sword.
Bree and the girl sat on the bank and Bree couldn’t help herself. She called, “Get him, Horland.”
He threw her a confused look and returned to his task.
Bree laughed. “You can do it.” She put her arm around the girl’s shoulders and speaking loud enough for Horland to hear, she said, “Look, sweetie, we’re having fish for lunch.”
The girl tipped her head back and gazed at Bree as if she were mad.
Bree laughed. “It’s okay, sweetie, I’m just messing with him.”
The girl gave a shake of her head but grinned.
Horland jabbed the spear in the water and hauled out a nice fat salmon. He waded in close to the bank and flicked the fish off the spear right at Bree’s feet. “Could you clean it?” Horland threw a knife next to the fish and went back to fishing.
Bree looked at the fish then glanced at the girl and laughed. “No problem, Sir Knight.”
Bree cleaned the fish and after she and the girl started a fire, she threaded the fish onto a stick and hung it over the flames.
Horland joined them on the bank and for some reason, Bree’s heart lurched into her throat at his admiring gaze. She averted her eyes and concentrated on turning the fish.
He pulled a plate out of his pack and gave it to her.
“Thanks.”
When it was cooked, she put it on the plate, and they ate with their fingers.
“Sorry, but I couldn’t scale the thing, your knife was too dull.”
“Mayhap you’ll do better next time.”
She was about to give him a mouthful but when she looked up, the corners of his mouth were twitching, and she knew he was joking.
She screwed up her nose. “Ooh, you’re funny. Next time, I’ll do the fishing and you can clean and scale the catch.”
Bree was surprised when he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave. He stretched out on his back and putting his arms under the back of his head, he closed his eyes.
“Aren’t we going to keep going?” Bree asked.
“Enjoy the sun because this is probably the last time, you’ll see it.”
Bree frowned. Was he telling her she wasn’t coming back out of the forest? “Meaning?”
His eyes half opened as if his lids were too heavy to open all the way. “Meaning, no sunlight can penetrate the forest top once we leave the stream.”
“But I will see the sun again, right, when we come back out of the forest.”
He sighed. “Of course.”
Bree regarded his form. He sat back against a tree and seemed so unaware of how good-looking he was. He had a sense of humor too, and she was beginning to like his teasing. It was fun to have a joke with someone of the opposite sex who wasn’t related to her.
He pulled something out of his coat, and she gasped. He had her orb and began throwing it up in the air and catching it again.
She leapt up and tried to catch the orb, but he was too quick and swiped it out of the air.
She put her hands on her hips. “Where did you get that? It’s mine, give it back.”
He examined the orb and then raised his brow at her. “It is not yours and if you had it, then I suspect you stole it from a friend of mine.”
“I didn’t steal it, it’s mine. How did you get it? Do you always go through people’s belongings?”
He leapt onto his feet and towered over her. “If you must know, I found it near the brigands’ camp. This keepsake is one of a kind and it belongs to my friend.”
She stepped back so she could see his scowling face more clearly. He really thought he was right.
“Look, buster, you gotta trust me, it’s mine and I have to have it.
” Bree’s voice rose in tone with each word.
She had to breathe, to regain control, but without the orb, she couldn’t get back to her own time—and she had to go back to Garrett and Laura.
She was so happy that he’d found it—she thought she had lost it forever—but the knight couldn’t keep it.
It was hers and thank goodness she’d found it before she got any closer to Horland.
He was handsome and funny, but there was no way she could think any more deeply about him.
His brows drew together, and he pierced her with his gaze.
Even though he wasn’t exactly angry, suspicion filled his expression.
Bree swallowed; he must have seen her mother with it, or maybe Aunt Di or Uncle Mark.
How was she to convince him it was hers without saying they gave it to her?
She drew in her lips. Should she tell him the truth?
Would he be able to deal with the truth?
He plunged the orb back into his coat. “Once we meet with Sir Garlain and his wife and child, they will tell me if I am mistaken. They alone will I believe.”
A shot of confusion ran through Bree. “You think they are together?”
He drew his brows together, so they formed one thick line. “Why would they not be?”
Bree turned her face away and swallowed down a sob. She couldn’t cry—he’d ask too many questions.
She noticed the young girl snap her gaze away and look over the water. The little munchkin was listening.
That didn’t worry Bree; what had her wondering was why the girl appeared startled that Bree caught her eavesdropping.
People could be quite mean to children in those days.
Perhaps she had been punished for listening to adults’ conversation before.
She decided to make sure the girl knew she wasn’t worried about what she overheard and if she wanted to speak more privately in the future, she’d make sure she and Horland weren’t in hearing distance.
However, nothing that was said could have gotten Bree in trouble. She was certain of it.
Bree stood up. “Okay then, you keep it until we get to wherever we’re going, but let’s just hurry up and get there.” She patted the girl on her shoulder. “Quickly, get your things together.”
Horland reclined onto his back. “I thought to stay the night here.”
“Why? We’re rested and we still have daylight for some time. We should leave now.”
Horland let out a rush of air from his nostrils as if he was irritated by her.
“Perhaps,” he said. He looked up at the sky, leapt onto his feet, and strode to the fire.
HORLAND MADE SURE THE fire was out and once he packed up his belongings, he marched into the forest uncaring whether the woman from America and her companion followed or not.
He had told Briana he expected Garlain and his wife to be together, and he hoped that was true, but he couldn’t forget that Simone had said Garlain was full of grief at Patricia and their daughter’s disappearance—so much so, he had gone mad.
What could have happened between them since Horland left to travel the kingdom?
Had she met someone else? Had she left Garlain for another man?
Horland gave a shake of his head. He could not reconcile the couple he left, so in love and adoring of one another, to a couple who had so many problems that one or the other would find solace in another’s arms.
What if they were together in the castle ruins? What if Garlain found Patricia, but in his mad state, he held her against her will? Had he hurt his wife? What of the baby? She would be at least a year old and a babe that young would need caring for.
But what of Princess Morla? Would she be a party to such goings on? Horland didn’t think so, but then he didn’t think he’d come back from his travels to find everyone he knew changed—and they had all changed. He had to find out why and he was glad Briana had insisted they continue their journey.
His heart ached at the loss of his friends, at the thought of what he might find at the ruins.
He rubbed his chest, and his hand brushed the trinket.
Glancing over his shoulder, he only then noted Briana and the child following.
Briana was talking, her face animated, shifting from worried to amused.
He smiled. She was telling the child a story.
He tried to listen but most of her words were hushed as if she were whispering. He hoped it wasn’t a frightening story. The child was far too young to hear such things.
He caught names he hadn’t heard before. Garrett and Laura. Mayhap he would hear the whole of that story one day.
Mayhap Briana liked to tell stories. He frowned over her attempt to lay claim over Patricia’s possession. Why would she insist she owned the trinket? Surely, she wasn’t so numb-brained as to think Horland would believe her?
He stepped over some dead wood. Her conviction told him she had faith in her words. Her eyes shone with indignation that he didn’t believe her. His step faltered.
“Better watch where you’re going, Sir Knight,” Bree chided. “Or you might fall and crack your skull.”
He harrumphed and increased his pace, rounding trees and bushes, and leaping over fallen trees and dead wood.
If he lost them then so be it. He wanted to be alone anyway.
He slowed. What was he thinking? He had to admit, he didn’t want to be alone, not completely.
He wanted some time to think, but he didn’t want to go so far ahead that he stranded them in the forest.
He hoped they would stay back and not intrude on his thoughts.
For some reason, when Briana was close, he couldn’t think straight.
She had a way of confusing his mind and she was a complete bafflement, in her speech, in her actions, and in her looks.
And she believed the trinket was hers; mayhap it was like one she owned.
But how could it be exactly like the one Patricia carried?
After several minutes, he decided there had to be more than one bauble that looked the same but being handmade, they would all have some disparity. He took the ornament out and turned it over in his hands. He’d seen it enough times to know it was Patricia’s, he was sure of it.
He pushed it back into his pocket and slowed his pace listening for his companions to catch up to him. When their footfalls sounded close behind, he moved to the side of the narrow path, hoping Briana would walk at his side.