“I’m with you,” I said.
Hudson massaged a slow circle on my back, which sent more tingles radiating up my spine. “The Merry Men won’t expect you to go far. Not with so many of your possessions sitting out in the open. They know you’re guarding them.”
I put my head against his chest. His heart beat a slow, steady rhythm against my cheek. “I can’t lie. If I tell them I’m going to kiss you good-bye, we’ll really have to kiss.” I glanced up to see his reaction to that.
He smiled and wound a strand of my hair around his finger. “I’d be happy to kiss you good-bye.”
I inwardly winced at the double meaning. Of course he would be happy to kiss me good-bye. He probably couldn’t wait to put me and this whole horrible episode behind him.
Which meant when we got back to the right century, I was not only moving to a mansion, I was moving to a mansion in Hollywood, so I could have famous actor friends that I would flaunt when I came back to visit Rock Canyon.
Hudson whispered into my ear, “Tell Robin Hood you don’t want anyone going through your supplies while you’re saying good-bye to me. Emphasize that. Then they’ll be so busy going through your supplies they won’t worry about coming after you for a while.” He let go of me, and I instantly missed his arms, the security they’d given me.
I was hopeless, really. One minute I was planning on flaunting famous friends in front of Hudson; the next, I missed his arms around me.
New moral of the story: Crushes make no sense.
“We need a horse,” I told him. “I’ll try to get one.”
Hudson had just told me about the power of greed. I might as well use some of it to my benefit. I handed Hudson the book to hold and headed over to Robin Hood.
He stood next to a horse, tying a blanket onto the saddle. When I reached him, he doffed his hat in my direction. “My Lady Tansy?”
I stepped close to him and lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m going to walk a little ways into the forest with Hudson. I want some privacy to …” I let the sentence dangle. “Well, you know how it is when those who are courting have to part.” It amazed me, really, how well I could bend sentences into lies without ever actually lying. “Can you make sure your men don’t go through our supplies?” I glanced in the direction my family had gone. “And if my time with Hudson takes a while and I’m not here when my family returns, will you tell them not to worry because I’ll be back.” This was not a lie. I would be back eventually.
Robin Hood put his cap back on his head. “Little John was not telling tales then? You’re in love with that knave?”
“What?” I hadn’t expected Robin Hood to ask this, and I didn’t know what to say.
Robin Hood noticed my hesitation and raised an eyebrow. “My lady does not answer. She is perhaps reflecting on the way she kissed me in yonder twenty-first-century store. She has feelings for me.”
I felt my cheeks grow warm. “You were holding me up at sword-point.”
He stepped closer and gave me a rakish smile. “You wished me to your bedchamber and begged me not to leave it. Now fate has brought us together again. Are you certain you want to send off that sop of a fellow with anything more than a maidenly wave of your hand?”
“I’m sure, and if I could ask you for one more thing—”
Robin Hood took hold of my arm. “Judge for yourself, Lady Tansy. The man is not trustworthy.” He glanced at Hudson again and pursed his lips. “He’ll toy with a maiden’s affections, then leave her with naught. I can tell.”
I bet he could. He had probably done it enough times himself. I pulled my arm away from him. “You told me yourself you weren’t ready to stand up with a woman.” I’d had no idea what the phrase meant when he said it, so I’d looked it up on the Internet. It meant he didn’t want to stand up in front of a priest for a wedding. Like that’s why I’d wished for Robin Hood to come—no one in my own century would marry me.
He gave me a dazzling smile. “True, but your fair fingers not only change wood into gold but a man’s heart into fire.”
No doubt it was the gold part that interested him.
Robin Hood held his hands out, palms up. “Who better than I to keep you out of King John’s grasp? I’ve eluded him for years. Don’t bother kissing that fellow farewell. Kiss me hello instead.” He put his arms on my shoulders and I worried that he was going to lean down and kiss me in front of everyone—in front of Hudson.
I stepped backward, smiling. “I’ll consider your words if you consider mine. Little John offered to ride Hudson partway to the village. If you can spare the horse for a trip to the road, then certainly you can let Hudson take it for a little longer to ride to the village.” I gestured to a pile of medium-sized rocks on the ground. “If you do, I’ll change those into gold for you.”
Robin Hood’s blue eyes flickered over the rocks, calculating their potential wealth. The greed was taking hold.
“We have a shovel over there.” I pointed at our supplies. “If you can’t carry all of the gold now, you can bury some and come back later for it.”
He didn’t answer, so I stepped closer, putting my hand on his arm. “Please?”
Robin Hood’s lips twitched. I could tell he didn’t want to grant my request but couldn’t help himself. “I suppose we can spare one horse.” He turned and made a quick inventory of the horses, then called for Will to bring over a brown mare. “But you’ll need to change the extra wood as well.”
I didn’t think twice about agreeing.
Changing the rocks to gold was more difficult than I thought. “Rock, gold, gold, gold” didn’t work. The same thing had happened last night when I’d first tried to change the kindling. I had to figure out what sort of wood it was—oak—and then use that word.
“What sort of rocks are these?” I asked Robin Hood.
“Common forest rocks,” he said.
Not a really helpful description.
Hudson came and stood next to me. “Try sandstone, limestone, or granite. It’s not volcanic.”
Hudson was obviously not only gorgeous and brave but also smart. It sort of made me regret destroying my English grades. I bet Hudson took honors English. I could have been in his class.
It turned out the rocks were limestone. Each change ripped at my heart, but I wouldn’t pause to rest. Not for the rocks. Not for the wood.
When I was done, Little John took our shovel, proclaimed the blade to be “wonderful sharp,” and began to dig a hole to bury the extra gold.
Hudson helped me to my feet, then took the horse’s reins from Will. Wordlessly, we walked together toward the edge of the forest, the horse tromping nonchalantly after us. My heart was still clenched from changing things to gold, and I had to force myself to keep my footsteps steady. Just before we were swallowed up by the forest, I turned and looked over my shoulder. Robin Hood was watching us leave, his arms folded across his chest.
Even with gold at his feet and our provisions unguarded, he wouldn’t lose track of time. We wouldn’t have long before he figured out what we’d done. Would he come after us?
When we were out of sight, Hudson effortlessly mounted the horse then held his hand down for me. I grabbed it, ignoring the fact that the horse was shifting her weight impatiently as though she didn’t welcome another rider.
As soon as I put my foot in the stirrup, Hudson heaved me up in front of him. He pressed his boots to the horse’s flanks and she trotted off through the trees.
“Well,” he said, “it looks like we’re off to see the wizard.”
“Let’s hope he turns out to be more helpful than the one in Oz.”
Hudson took the walkie-talkie out of his pocket and turned it on. Putting it next to his lips, he whispered, “Can you hear me?”
Nothing but static answered him for a few seconds, then my father’s voice came over the speaker. “Did you say something?”
“I’m taking Tansy with me. She’ll be safer away from Robin Hood. Out.”
“What?” Even over the poor connection, my father’s alarm was obvious.
I took the walkie-talkie from Hudson’s hand. “We’re afraid Robin Hood won’t let us reconnect otherwise. If you get back to camp before they come looking for us, don’t tell them what we’ve done.”
“Where are you?” Dad asked.
But we didn’t have time to talk. I scanned the forest ahead of us, half hoping I’d catch sight of my family through the trees and half hoping I wouldn’t. “I love you, Dad. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
It sounded too much like a good-bye. When my father spoke next, his voice rose. “Meet me at the car and we’ll talk about this.”
Hudson took the walkie-talkie from my hand. “Here’s the new plan. We’ll bring the wizard back to the meeting place. It will take us at least two days, maybe even four. In two days, turn on your walkie-talkie for five minutes every hour. As soon as we’re within range, we’ll turn on our walkie-talkie and keep calling until we get ahold of you. Out.”
Hudson had barely finished speaking before my father’s voice came back over the speaker. “You can’t just take off with my daughter. It isn’t safe—” He said more, but Hudson turned off the walkie-talkie and put it in the saddlebag.
I wished I’d been able to tell my father I was doing this for him, for the family.
In a few minutes, we reached the main road and Hudson brought the horse to a gallop. We were out in the world by ourselves. Fugitives not only from King John but from Robin Hood as well.
Chapter 18
We passed by the first village we came to. Hudson thought Robin Hood would look for us there. I had only ridden a horse a couple of times—always as part of some tourist trip where the horses gently strolled behind a guide. This was completely different. I spent the entire ride grasping hold of the saddle, the horse’s mane, and sometimes Hudson in an effort not to fall off.
Finally, we came to a village Hudson thought was safe, and we bought two fresh horses at an inn. I would have my own horse to ride, which meant it would be easier to stay on, but I would no longer have Hudson’s arms around me. Safety versus romance. It was a hard call whether to be happy or not.
We had to wait both for the horses to be saddled up and for the blacksmith to melt down the gold Hudson gave in payment. The innkeeper wanted to make sure it was real. Apparently not many people came through the village with gold acorns. While we waited for the stable boy to ready the horses, we bought provisions—food, blankets, cloaks—and studied the innkeeper’s map. At least, Hudson studied the map. I mostly paced near him, nervously checking for either Robin Hood’s or King John’s men.
The only people who paid extra attention to us though were two barefoot little girls who kept casting adoring looks at Hudson. They even followed us into the stable when we collected our horses. While Hudson put things into his saddlebag, I told him, “You have a fan club.”
He glanced in the girls’ direction and they erupted in giggles. Hudson winked at them, then turned back to me. “It’s only because women love a man in uniform.”
I leaned against the stall door. “You’re so right. I found those police officers who arrested me irresistible.”
Hudson grinned. “You’re an exception to many rules.” Instead of putting a couple of the apples we’d bought into his saddlebag, he held them out to the girls. “Would you like to feed our horses?”
The youngest girl took an apple but instead of offering it to the horse, she bit into it, devouring it in a few bites. Hudson watched her, then without saying another word, he took the bread and eggs from his saddlebag and gave them to the children. The younger girl grabbed her share, wide-eyed, and ran away, as though Hudson might change his mind and demand it back.
“Beg your pardon,” the older girl said. “My sister’s too young to say thank you.”
I hadn’t noticed until then how thin the girl was, how ragged her clothes were. I took the food out of my saddlebag and handed it to her as well. I reached for some gold, but Hudson grabbed my hand and shook his head. “Not that.”
The sternness in his face warned me not to argue, so I didn’t. I just stood silently by the horses while the girl left and Hudson went to buy more food. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, though. After we rode out of the village, I said, “Why didn’t you let me give that girl some gold? It probably could have fed her family for a month.”
Hudson looped his reins around one hand. “If the village men knew we had enough wealth that we could afford to give gold to children, we wouldn’t make it a mile out of town before someone came to rob us. Or kill us. Less chance of reprisal that way.”
I looked back in the direction of the village, a sudden chill washing across me. “But the people there were so nice.”
“One of the things I’ve learned here is that when your children are hungry, even nice people do bad things for money.”
That thought sat with me for a long time. When I had asked for this ability, not once had I considered the problems of having magical wealth. Now it seemed to put me in danger everywhere I went.
We left on the main road in case someone asked the villagers which way we went, but as soon as we were out of sight, we cut through the forest to a different path. According to the map, in about ten miles, we would reach a river. We needed to travel alongside it for several miles, then cross a bridge and take a road to the wizard’s village.
Sunlight streamed through the forest, making the leaves look like jigsaw pieces of a hundred different shades of green. Birds trilled so loudly they nearly drowned out the sound of our horses.
My horse rode almost alongside Hudson’s. Close enough that I could peek at his profile without him noticing. His dark eyes were alert, scanning the forest and he looked all the more handsome for his seriousness. No, that wasn’t right. He was more handsome when he smiled. He didn’t do that enough.
“Did you learn how to ride as a castle guard?” I asked.
“No. My grandparents have a couple of horses.” His gaze wandered in my direction and he gave me one of his elusive smiles. “That’s the sort of thing you do in hick towns.”
I gave him a pointed look. “You’re never going to forget that I called Rock Canyon a hick town, are you?”
“Well, you’re a New Yorker. You don’t know any better.”
“New York is a nice place.”
“If you like concrete, crowds, and that claustrophobic, closed-in feeling.”
I pulled my horse next to his. “Okay, hometowns are off our conversation list. What do you want to talk about next? Oh, and I’m banning anything about computer games or professional sports teams.”
“You’ve got a list of approved conversation topics?”
“It’s a long way to the wizard’s house and we should get to know each other better.”
He tipped his head to the side. “Why? Aren’t you going to move to some luxury apartment in New York as soon as we get home?”
My gaze went to his, trying to figure out if he cared or was just curious. I couldn’t tell. His eyes were intent and a little bit amused. “Maybe not,” I said. “I haven’t decided. Besides, you brought up hometowns again. That’s off the list. You have to talk about something else.”
He shook his head. “This is such a girl thing—talking about what we’re going to talk about. With guys, if you’ve got a question, you ask it.”
“Okay,” I said, deciding to use the opening he’d given me. “I have a question. Why didn’t you go out for football this year?”
His head swung over to me in surprise. “Where did that question come from?”
I fingered my reins. “I asked some girls at school about you. One said you didn’t go out for football or student body because you stopped caring about people at school.”
He let out a grunt. “How did my personal life get on your approved conversation list?”
“We’re doing this the guy way,” I reminded him. “I had a question. So is it true?”
<
br /> He paused and looked out at the forest. “I stopped doing extracurricular things because I have two younger sisters who want to be driven to dance lessons and need help with their homework. I have to be there for them since our mom isn’t.” He let out an irritated sigh. “I’m assuming you know about my mom too. The gossipy girls at school didn’t leave out that part?”
“They said she died over a year ago. That’s all.”
“She was hit by a drunk driver. Probably a teenager. They never found out who.”
Maybe by someone at school, then. I could see how that would make a person feel less social. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, everybody is sorry. That topic is off the list.”
I didn’t speak for a few moments. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing again.
He looked over at me, and his expression softened. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
He hadn’t, really. “It’s okay,” I said.
He looked out at the forest again, but this time his posture had a tightness about it. “You’re lucky, you know—about the whole wish business.”
That made me laugh. “I don’t feel so lucky right now.”
“No, I mean you’re lucky that you had three wishes, and all you wanted was a visit from Robin Hood and some gold.”
It wasn’t all I had wanted, but the point was the same. I didn’t ask what he would have wished for. I already knew, and it was off the list.
We spoke about other things. He told me about his sisters, and I told him about Kendall. We talked about what we would do when we got home. I wanted to sleep someplace that was not a barn floor. He wanted to eat a lot of junk food.
But the entire time we spoke, I thought about his wish.
Hours went by. We stopped at another village long enough to feed and water the horses. Once we had eaten and they had rested, we went back to the trail. It was harder to climb back on the horse this time. I had ridden for so long my legs had gone beyond aching. They throbbed, and each bounce in the horse’s step made it worse.