18
Sherwood Forest
Jill and Will Scarlet arrived back at camp first, followed closely by Lester and Little John. While Will and Little John exuberantly recounted the day’s events to each other and congratulated Lester on his shooting, Jill watched for Robin. Every time a new member of the gang broke through the tree line, Jill stood in anticipation of seeing the outlaw leader. But each time her hopes were disappointed, she returned dejectedly to Will and John’s conversation.
As the hours passed, her concern grew. Robin had to take the long way around the forest to avoid the traps the merry men had set for the sheriff’s soldiers. By Jill’s design, Robin had been the first to leave and last to return due to his circuitous route. No chances could be taken once the money was in Robin’s possession. The lives of too many people depended on it. But as more men checked in, Jill withdrew to sit by her shelter and observe, worried her mood would dampen the general enthusiasm.
As much as she detested self-analyzing behavior, Jill knew she had to untangle the feelings jumbled inside her. The process felt like sorting cooked noodles—messy, unpleasant, and pointless—but another storm of tears threatened to break if she didn’t address her emotions, and she had no intention of breaking down in front of everyone again.
First and foremost, Jill was angry with Joanna. Even though Jill conceded that Joanna had a legitimate reason to remain at the castle, the decision seemed irresponsible and dangerous. Joanna—who couldn’t find her own car in a parking lot—was trying to catch a murderer alone. This was stupidity and madness! Joanna had once again abandoned common sense and family to pursue a scheme that would only get her hurt. It was like when Joanna moved to Minneapolis. After the twins attended separate colleges, Jill had dreamed of living in the same town with Joanna so they could be together regularly. But Joanna had followed Chris the Psychology Major to his new graduate school, only to be stuck in a lease and bad job when he dumped her. Moving near Jill had never entered Joanna’s mind. But Joanna didn’t think about Jill. No, Joanna ran after her heart without any regard for anyone but the idiotic man she was pursuing.
That wasn’t completely true…at least not this time. Joanna said she wasn’t involved with Guy, and Jill believed her. The twins had agreed they both had a purpose to fulfill before they could return to the twenty-first century. Solving the murder was what Joanna had to do. Still, if Joanna were here right now, Jill wouldn’t be struggling as much to sort through her feelings. Joanna had a way of asking the right questions to help Jill navigate emotional territory. Jill hadn’t even realized Robin had proposed until Joanna pointed it out today.
Yes, the proposal was bothering her, too. She liked Robin a lot, enjoyed his attention, and had fun when she was with him. But she wasn’t sure she loved him or even what romantic love was supposed to feel like. She knew her parents loved each other, but they had been married thirty years and were more likely to show affection through gentle bickering—a stage Jill and Robin were far from reaching. Jill had mentally tried the word love on for size during the archery contest and found it didn’t fit very well.
She couldn’t get comfortable with the idea of being together with Robin forever. Intrigued and enamored as she was with him, he made Jill feel a little embarrassed and off balance. Mom used to remind the twins that no matter how much a woman loved a man, she couldn’t change him. Dad’s qualities that Mom first fell in love with were the ones that she said drove her crazy now. If Robin’s quirks made Jill uncomfortable after only four days, how much worse would they be in twenty years…provided he lived that long? He was an outlaw, after all—a profession that didn’t exactly encourage surviving to old age. What would happen to Jill when Robin was gone? Would she assume his identity, carry on his work? She had no doubt she could, but did she want to? Making the twelfth century her permanent home held no appeal without Robin.
The lack of sleep, adrenaline of the day, and emotional work left her feeling exhausted. Leaning against her shelter, Jill didn’t realize she had dozed off until Will shouted Robin’s name. She opened her eyes to see a jovial Robin enter the camp followed by four men, each one carrying a sack of money. She knew she should go to him, but there was no reason to run like a silly school girl and make a scene. Rising, she brushed the dirt off her cloak and sauntered toward Robin, determined to play it cool.
The outlaw, however, didn’t share her reticence. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her passionately. Jill felt the eyes of every man in the camp on her. This was not the time or the place for such a public display of affection. She blushed and pushed Robin away. His face registered brief surprise, but he shrugged it off, his arm still wrapped possessively around Jill’s waist as he gestured toward the sacks of money.
“Gentlemen, I present to you the sheriff’s tax money!”
The men cheered as the bags were opened to reveal coin of every denomination. Jill sighed with relief. None of this money could be traced back to the sheriff’s treasury. He would suspect its origin, of course, but he couldn’t prove it, which meant the citizens of Edwinstowe were safe. They and the Widow Tinsley would survive another tax-collection day.
“This plan was a great success!” Robin declared. “Bring out the ale!”
Jill moved to join the rest of the men who gathered at the barrels to fill their tankards, but Robin pulled her back for another kiss. Jill humored him but worried what the others might be thinking. While no dissenting opinions among the gang currently threatened Jill and Robin’s happiness, she knew enough of group politics to fear what could happen in the future. She might be excluded from conversations or activities for fear she would tattle to the boss. Any respect the men had for her would evaporate with the knowledge that she was the mistress of the man in charge, the token female of the group. As nice as it was to have Robin care for her, she still wanted to be one of the guys.
“Brilliant plan, Jill,” Robin praised, oblivious to her inner conflict. “Today’s success belongs entirely to you. Now, I want to meet this sister of yours. Where is she?”
Jill stiffened, wishing she could crawl under a log.
Robin’s eyes filled with concern. “Oh, Jill, she’s not…?”
“No, she’s fine. She decided to stay and solve the murders, so the plan wasn’t exactly a success.” Jill bit her lip. “You’re probably thinking I shouldn’t have given you such a hard time for not rescuing her before.”
“That thought never occurred to me.”
But it might someday, Jill reasoned. Right now he was pleased with her, but nothing guaranteed he would remain so.
“Come on,” Robin urged. “The men expect us to lead the celebration.”
As Jill and Robin entered the circle around the fire, Little John and Will scooted over to clear a spot for them. Everyone was so anxious to debrief from the day’s events and share his side of the story that Robin intervened and designated the order in which the men should speak. As each man had a chance to relate his role in the escapade, the others heckled frequently, correcting the current version with their own perspectives. Anyone unfamiliar with the plan Jill had concocted would have been very confused by the interruptions.
The gang had been divided into five groups: Jill and Will Scarlet to rescue Joanna, Lester to shoot in the archery contest and Little John to protect him, Robin and four men to steal the money, Alan and two of the younger boys to relay messages, and Will Stutely with the remaining members of the gang to watch the castle gates and provide support in the forest as needed.
Since Alan and the messengers had the least exciting role, Robin allowed them to speak first. The younger two relinquished their turns to Alan who spent far too much time discussing the symbolism of the colored scarves.
“Red, yellow, and green,” Alan mused. “They’re such poetic colors. I can’t help but wonder why Jill assigned them the symbolic meanings she did. I would have written a ballad about them, but since my songs have been silenced,” (he cut a withering glance at Robin)
“I will recite a poem.”
“Jill,” Robin interrupted, “would you tell everyone where you got the colors so we can move on?”
“They’re signs from my country,” Jill said with a shrug. “We have a lot of…uh…horses on the road so these signals are posted where two roads meet to avoid any collisions. Red means stop, yellow means caution, and green means go.”
Will looked thoughtful. “Is the people’s tax money paying for someone to stand at each road and display those colors?”
Jill pondered how to answer. “Sort of.”
Will shook his head. “Maybe when we’ve got England taken care of we can free your country, Jill.”
She held back a smile. “Absolutely.”
Lester’s turn was next, but the poor lad stumbled over his words so much as he tried to tell his story that Little John had step in and finish the tale. Jill had witnessed most of the contest, so the only information new to her entailed Little John and Lester’s escape.
“You should have seen the look on Gisbourne’s face when he pulled Lester’s hood off!” Little John shook his head. “The man was white as a ghost. In fact, I’ve only seen that look a few times, and every time a man was staring his death in the face. When Gisbourne ran toward the castle, I snared Lester by the collar and disappeared into the crowd. From there it was a short run into the forest. But now, Jill, tell us about your sister. Why didn’t Joanna come back with you?”
As everyone turned to Jill, she swallowed uncomfortably. She didn’t have Joanna’s flare for storytelling nor was she anxious to highlight how her part of the plan had failed.
“Joanna is fine,” Jill began. “I met her at the mason’s tent, like we had arranged, but she decided not to come. She went back to Locksley. Will’s mother and brother are looking after her.”
“Why didn’t she come with you?” Little John repeated.
“There’s been a second murder at the castle, and Joanna believes the same killer is responsible. She chose to stay to finish her investigation and find the murderer.”
“That’s easy,” Will said. “Gisbourne. End of story.”
Jill bristled. While she didn’t agree with her twin’s decision, Jill had no intentions of letting someone outside the family criticize Joanna’s actions. “Joanna’s not so sure, and I trust her instincts. If she says she can find the killer—whoever he is—then she will.”
“That reminds me,” Will interrupted. “Robin, do you remember where we sent Daisy?”
“The convent at Kirklees,” Robin answered. “Why?”
“Apparently she knows something that can help Joanna with the murders. My mum asked if we could fetch her so Joanna could question her.”
Robin nodded. “Alan, get the message chain started.”
“Oh come on! Now? Really?” Alan’s shoulders slumped.
“It’s for a good cause,” Little John encouraged. “If Joanna needs Daisy, then you must send for her.”
With a grimace, Alan stomped away from the fire, reminding Jill of a dejected little boy.
“Alan’s got no reason to be grumpy,” Will scoffed. “I’m the one who had the worst of it today. I discovered my mum has a new lover—Sirsalon the butler.”
Robin burst out laughing.
Will scowled. “I don’t understand what’s so funny.”
“They’ve fancied each other for years, Will. Didn’t you know?”
“It’s not like I keep up with her love life—or that she’s even supposed to have one. Ugh…it’s disgusting to think of my mum and Sirsalon together. They’re too old! She loved my father. Wasn’t that enough?”
“Anyone who finds love twice in a lifetime should be grateful.” As he said this, Robin winked at Jill and she felt her stomach flip.
“Tell us your story, Robin,” Little John encouraged. “It’s the only one we haven’t heard.”
Robin passed Jill his tankard before standing to address his men. “Since the foresters were searching for me at the tournament, the castle guard was much lighter than usual. With a little stealth we slipped past the soldiers and ambushed the two guarding the treasury. We sent young Godric up the tower to send the signals. Then the heist was as easy as swiping the soldiers’ keys off their belts while they were unconscious and unlocking the door. Before we left, I checked the bags to make sure they had coins in small enough denominations that the villagers could use them without fear. Once assured of the treasure, we dropped a rope from the window and lowered the money and ourselves outside the castle walls and ran to the forest. I did catch sight of Guy as we entered the trees, but the trip ropes slowed him down, allowing us to arrive here safely.”
“A good day’s work,” Little John concluded. “I could get used to this.”
“Here, here!” shouted some of the men, raising their glasses.
Robin motioned for Jill to hand him his ale. “A toast! Men of Sherwood—and Jill—today we entered a new era. We eluded capture while stealing from the rich Sheriff of Nottingham to pay the taxes of the poor people of Edwinstowe. We fooled Guy of Gisbourne with an elaborate and successful plan. And most importantly, our mission and purpose have shifted from revenge to vengeance. From this day forward, we fight not for ourselves but for the poor and oppressed of Nottinghamshire and all of England.”
Will raised his hand, cutting off the cheer that was about to begin. “That’s all very nice and theoretical, but don’t you want to kill Gisbourne and get your name and title back?”
Robin paused, contemplating his answer. “All my life I’ve been so focused on myself and what I wanted that I never noticed the suffering of those around me. I see it now, thanks to the help of a very special friend.” Robin nodded toward Jill. “Whether I’m an outlaw of Sherwood Forest or the Earl of Huntingdon, my purpose from now on must be to assist others. If you wish to remain with me as members of my band, then that must be your purpose as well.”
“Here, here!” Little John agreed, and the rest of the men, including Will, echoed the response.
“As we celebrate today’s success,” Robin continued, “there are two members of our group who deserve special recognition. Lester, your marksmanship, bravery, and composure created the perfect decoy. I couldn’t have shot better myself.”
“He’s right, you know,” John said with a laugh. “He couldn’t have.”
Ignoring John, Robin raised his tankard. “Lester, I salute you!”
Jill and the rest of the men stood and shouted, “To Lester!” before taking a swig of their ale.
When everyone but Robin was seated again, he turned to Jill. “Today’s great deeds are the direct result of the incredible intelligence of the most remarkable woman I’ve ever known. Jill, none of this would have happened without you. We are all better men for having served with you. I thank you and salute you. To Jill!”
Jill blushed as the outlaws rose and toasted her. She felt proud and embarrassed all at the same time. This level of recognition from the people she worked with made her heart soar. If only her associates at GDB Oil could see her now! Maybe she’d get a little more respect. But even as the proverbial spotlight turned on her, Jill shrank from it without understanding why except that Robin had embarrassed her again and she felt…off balance.
“There’s one last but very important piece of business to take care of,” Robin continued. “The tax money must be divided and delivered before dawn. Little John and Will, you’re in charge of distribution.”
John nodded. “Last drinks, everyone, if we’re to be sober enough to finish the job before daybreak.”
As the men returned to the ale barrels for the last call, Robin took Jill’s hand and led her away from the fire to the spot by the stream where he had given her the medallion. Jill’s throat tightened, anticipating what he might want to discuss. He had already proposed, so the worst had happened. But what if he asked for her answer tonight? Jill tugged at the chain nervously. The medallion was starting to feel very heavy around her neck.
Finger
s entwined, they sat silently for several minutes, listening to the water and watching the stars, before Robin finally spoke.
“Do you miss your home, Jill?”
She considered her answer. “Yes. I miss my parents and my sister.”
“It must have been hard for you when she didn’t want to come with you.”
“Sure, but she’s doing something important. Neither one of us chose to be here, but we can’t help feeling there’s a reason for it, and solving those murders appears to be her purpose.”
“Those are my people at Locksley, and I should be taking care of them. I didn’t know Bess, but I knew Gwen. She was a beautiful woman—although not the wisest or the kindest. I was sorry to hear that she died. Everything Guy touches turns to pain and dust. Although I’m sad you don’t have Joanna with you, I’m glad she’s seeking justice where I can’t.”
“If you knew Joanna back home, you’d realize how strange it is that she’s ‘seeking justice.’ I have no doubt she can do it, but it’s not exactly something she’s suited for in our country.”
“Sometimes we have to travel to find ourselves,” Robin mused. “I had no idea who I was or what I was made of until I came to Sherwood. For so long, I’ve felt so lost. But now, I understand what I need to do. A man needs a purpose, Jill. He’s not whole until he finds it.”
“That makes sense.”
“Do you believe you also have a purpose?”
“Sure.”
“What do you think it is?”
Jill pursed her lips, reluctant to say what she believed for fear he would take it as a profession of love. “Helping you…putting plans together…something like that.”
“If you had the chance to return to your home, would you?”
“I wouldn’t go without Joanna.”
“I envy you. Even when you disagree, your love for your sister is evident.”
“I’m sorry about you and Guy,” Jill offered. “If it helps, Joanna and I fight a lot, too, over stupid things like who spends the most time in the bathroom.”
Robin shook his head. “I have no idea what you just said.”
Jill smiled. There was no response to this. “Thanks for making me feel welcome here, Robin. You’ve been really nice.”
“You know my feelings involve more than being polite.”
She did know, but she didn’t want to talk about it. “It’s been a long day. I’m feeling pretty tired. I should catch a little sleep before we hand out the money.”
“Of course.”
Robin walked her to her hut and kissed her goodnight. As she lay down, she berated herself for sabotaging the first real relationship she had ever had. But it was moving too fast and she wasn’t ready.
Sleep came easily, but her dreams were troubled. In them, she rode horses with Robin through the forest. They galloped faster and faster toward a cliff. Jill pulled on the reins and leaned back in the saddle, trying to get control of her mount, but the horse only charged faster toward the edge. No matter how hard she tried, the horse wouldn’t stop. Jill knew she was hopelessly out of control. Unless she jumped off the horse, she would plunge to her death. But her foot was stuck in the stirrup so that even when she fell out of the saddle, the horse still dragged her into the black cavern below.