Falling Through Time: A Lighthearted Time Travel Romance (Knights Through Time Romance Book 13)

by Cynthia Luhrs

  They worked in companionable silence, each lost in their thoughts. When Duncan got too close to the edge of the rip-rap, Violet called out.

  “Don’t go in the water. Remember I told you, alligators live in there, it’s their territory. Leave the fruit, we can’t reach it.”

  “The black beast.” He stared at the water. “I understand territory.”

  They’d filled both trash cans with debris from the front and backyard. There were palm fronds, branches and other bits and pieces of junk all up and down the street, but at least the houses hadn’t flooded.

  The waterway was all the way to the top of the rip-rap and covered her dock, the highest Violet had ever seen it.

  They were sitting on a chaise lounge, drinking cold sodas and eating chips and sandwiches, when Duncan cleared his throat.

  “Violet?”

  She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You want the rest of the chips?”

  He nodded.

  “You said you know about the illness I survived. How do you know what happened in my time?”

  Violet leaned back on the chaise, staring out at the water.

  “It’s history. From what I remember, the plague came from China on ships to the Mediterranean. Then it spread to northern England and then Scotland. The plague killed close to 25 million people throughout Europe. The rats on the ships had fleas, the fleas spread the disease. It was an awful way to die. I can’t imagine what it must have been like.”

  She took a breath, not sure if she believed his outlandish story about falling through time but she wanted to know more about him.

  “You said people are depending on you? Do you have family?”

  Duncan fetched them another beverage from the cooler.

  “I dinna know. Many in my clan were sick. My brother and parents are dead. My brother’s wife and children went to live with her family. I need to go home.” He blew out a breath. “I made a promise if I survived the illness I would look after them.”

  He wiped the sweat from his face with his shirt. “I am an outlaw. There’s a price on my head for stealing cattle.”

  “We’ll find a way for you to go home.” Or get his memory back. That had to be easier than traveling through time. “I’m sorry you’ve lost loved ones.”

  “I thank ye.” He arched a brow. “It does not offend you to be keeping company with an outlaw?”

  She waved a hand in the air, fanning her face.

  “It was an accepted practice back then. What was okay then is not okay now.” Violet pointed a finger at him. “No stealing, cattle or anything else.”

  Duncan smirked.

  “As ye say, lass.” He watched a pelican fly by and shook his head. “There are strange creatures here.”

  “It’s a pelican. They scoop up fish. You’ll see them when we go to the beach.” The sinking feeling was back. “Did your parents die of the sickness?”

  Duncan shook his head. “Dead by the English.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Might ye aid me to go back?”

  Violet tapped her chin, thinking.

  “How? I don’t have a clue how to travel through time.”

  “I dinna know, lass.”

  “If I knew how to travel through time do you think I’d be living here?” She sighed. “I’d traipse through ancient Rome, regency England, all kinds of times and places. It would be so interesting.”

  Duncan was watching her. “Would ye travel to the future?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to know what’s coming, it takes the mystery away.”

  “I had a distant cousin. Connor McTavish. He died helping one of those damnable Thorntons, though some say the faeries took him. He would know what to do.”

  It was muggy outside. Between the heat and the cleanup of her own yard and the next-door neighbors, it wasn’t long before they fell asleep on the chaise lounges.

  Violet woke to Duncan watching her.

  “Did ye sleep well?”

  “I did. I needed a nap.”

  It was too bad she wasn’t sure who he really was. There was something about him that made her want to get to know him better. He was kind, funny, and helpful. But nope. She did not have time for a guy who didn’t know who he was.

  For all she knew, the story he’d told her about being an outlaw and providing for his cousins and family was part of the backstory of his character in the play. The guy could be married with six kids and not have a clue.

  But a small voice within whispered, or he might be telling the truth.

  “Thank goodness there’s a breeze off the water, it’s going to be a sticky night tonight.”

  He hopped up off the chaise.

  “I will fetch more ice for the cooling.”

  When he came back, he had packages of frozen steak along with the ice.

  “Is this the frozen meat?”

  “Yep. Steaks.”

  Duncan looked at them longingly before placing them in the cooler with the ice. She knew exactly how he felt.

  “Let’s see if Mr. Williams and Dora want to cook out. We’ll bring the steaks, he can provide the grill.”

  Duncan’s stomach rumbled.

  They’d knocked on the neighbors’ doors on either side of her and a few houses across the street, but no one was home. They had families in other states and visited them frequently, so Violet figured that’s where they’d gone.

  She knocked on Mr. Williams’ door. The door opened and Dora grinned at her. “Hi, Miss Violet.” She pointed, eyes huge. “Who is that?”

  They’d cleaned up the yards on either side of her but hadn’t made it across the street yet.

  Duncan went down on one knee. “Duncan McTavish at your service.”

  “You talk funny, I like it.” She clutched a stuffed cat in her arms.

  “Is your grandpa home?” Violet ruffled the child’s hair.

  “Grandpa.” Dora yelled.

  Mr. Williams came to the door.

  “Violet, hello there. Did you survive the hurricane? I haven’t seen a storm like that in a long time.”

  “We did. It doesn’t look like you sustained any damage.”

  “A few broken windows in the back, but nothing major.” He looked at Duncan standing next to Violet.

  “This is Duncan McTavish… a friend. He’s staying with me until he can get back home.”

  Duncan reached out and shook Mr. Williams’ hand. “Sir.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man.”

  Violet smiled. “I was wondering if you might fire up the grill tonight for dinner? We’ll bring the steak and potatoes.”

  Mr. Williams rubbed his hands together.

  “A fantastic idea. I’ve got asparagus and ice cream for dessert. We should eat the ice cream, it won’t hold with the power out.”

  Dora wrinkled her nose. “I hate those green trees. I don’t want to eat them.”

  Violet leaned down. “I’m not crazy about vegetables either, but look how tall Mr. Duncan is. He eats vegetables three times a day.” Violet gave him a look she hoped he understood.

  Dora frowned. “Is that true?”

  Duncan stood tall. “Aye. If ye want to be as tall as me, ye must eat your vegetables.”

  “Fine. But I want three scoops of ice cream for dessert.”

  Mr. Williams looked at his watch. “Come on over around seven.”

  As they walked across the street, Duncan whispered, “what are asparagus?”

  “Green vegetables that look like trees. Don’t worry, they’re great with blue cheese dressing.”

  Violet opened the cooler and took out the packages of steaks, then she looked at Duncan and took one more package, betting he’d eat two or three steaks himself.

  Duncan said he’d paint the bathroom and living room. Since they had plenty of time before dinner, he wanted to get started, so Violet showed him what to do, and after checking on him, left him to it.

  She powered up her tablet and phone, checke
d her messages, let gram and her parents know she was fine, and settled in to work on the sketches for her mom.

  Not sure how much time had passed, Violet jumped when Duncan ran past her, paint spattered all over him, his face white.

  “Hurry, the wee one is near the water.”

  “What?”

  Violet caught movement out of the corner of her eye and saw that Dora was on the dock stomping in the water. Fear flooded her veins. As Duncan ran through the backyard, the kid lost the hold on her stuffed cat and it went into the water.

  “Nay, lass. Don’t.” Duncan was fast, but not fast enough as Dora leaned forward. The little girl lost her balance and slid off the dock into the water with a splash.

  “Help.” The kid screamed.

  By the time Violet made it to the dock, Duncan had already jumped in and taken hold of Dora.

  “No, I can’t leave Coconut. Please, save him.”

  Duncan lifted her onto the dock. “Go to Violet. I’ll fetch the wee beastie.”

  Violet panted, hands on her knees. “Be careful. Don’t splash too much.”

  He swam out and then dove under the water as Violet held tight to Dora. They both scanned the water, the seconds ticking by. When he surfaced, he held the bedraggled white cat out of the water. He tossed it to Dora and pulled himself up on the dock.

  “Saints, I think I saw the alligator.”

  Sure enough, Spot surfaced, looked at them and swam off down the middle of the waterway, his tail leaving ripples as he decided it was much too noisy here among the humans.

  Dora was crying as she threw her arms around Duncan.

  “You’re a superhero. You saved me and Coconut.”

  “He’s better than a superhero.”

  Violet willed her heartbeat to return to normal as Duncan picked up Dora and spun her around in the air, water spraying Violet as Dora shrieked with laughter, her earlier terror forgotten.

  10

  Duncan wiped the sweat from his brow as he stood back to survey his handiwork.

  “The white changes the entire bathroom.”

  Violet turned in a circle.

  “Now the pink tub and sink look pretty instead of dated.” She touched his shoulder. “Thank you.”

  Her hands were smooth and unblemished. Life was safer in this time. Easier.

  In the great hall, Violet stopped.

  “I can’t get over how much better it looks in here. The artwork and the sofas are going to look amazing against the white walls, so much better than that awful green.”

  She had helped him move the furniture away from the walls. While he painted the bathing chamber, she covered the furniture and taped off the windows.

  “You’re fast. If the power doesn’t come on soon, I may bribe you with that cereal you like to paint the rest of the house.”

  “The crunchy stuff with the colored bits?” Duncan loved the sweet food she called cereal. It didn’t fill him up for long, but it tasted delicious.

  “I am at your service, lass.”

  Violet went up on her toes and touched a finger to his cheek as Duncan went still.

  “There, that’s better.” She wiped her hand on her shirt. “You had a bit of paint on your face.”

  Her voice was soft, her short hair shining like the sun as she gazed upon him. Duncan could not look away. Who knows how long he would have stayed there staring at her like a dolt if there hadn’t been a bang on the door.

  “Hello? Miss Violet? Mr. Duncan? It’s me, Dora.” The wee child came skipping into the room, the bedraggled stuffed cat held tight in her arms.

  “I came to help. Grandpa said I should do whatever you asked… nothing too hard, I’m just a kid.” The little imp grinned.

  “I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t forget the chocolate syrup and sprinkles for the ice cream after dinner.”

  Duncan went down on one knee so he was eye to eye with the girl.

  “Dinna fash, I would not forget such an important part of the dessert.”

  “Yay.” She spun around and around, singing some made up song to the cat as he watched her, grinning. The joy of a child was truly a gift from above.

  “Come then, child, I do not wish to starve to death.”

  “Me either. I could eat the entire grocery store, I’m so hungry.” Dora took his hand and led him to the kitchen. “Miss Violet hides the good stuff in the hall closet. I’ll show you where.”

  “Hey. You two better not eat all the candy bars, you know they’re my favorite.” Violet called out to them, laughter filling her voice.

  After he and Dora ate a snack, Duncan left Violet and Dora to pack up the food for the meal tonight.

  Until he knew if he could go back to his own time, he would need to adapt to this strange and noisy land.

  “Duncan?”

  Violet was standing in front of him, tapping her foot. A sure sign he vexed her. Most likely because he ate all the pickles while he was painting. They were tiny and tasted delicious with cheese. ’Twas not his fault the jar was so small.

  “Aye?”

  “Could you carry the cooler?” She held up a hand and frowned at the paint on her skin. “I didn’t even have time to clean up before dinner.”

  Wisely, he did not comment on the paint spots on her clothing. He lifted the cooler to his shoulder and held out a hand.

  “I will carry the ale.”

  “Great.” She handed him two brightly colored bags with straps.

  The child carried a wee plastic bag and talked so much he wondered when she had time to breathe. Dora insisted upon carrying the chocolate syrup and sprinkles.

  “I’m sorry I was a grouch. It’s been a long day. The rooms look beautiful. Thank you again for painting them.” Violet walked beside him as Dora ran ahead, leaping over a fallen tree.

  “I will earn my keep while I am here with you.” He snuck a glance at her.

  “I am sorry I ate all the pickles.”

  Her eyes were bright as she looked up at him, a smile on her face. “Don’t worry about it. They’re really tasty.”

  Had his brother’s wife and her wee ones survived the sickness? Had they made it safely to her family? Did they think he had abandoned them or had died of the sickness? There was nothing he could do for them. It was hundreds of years later; they were dust in their graves and yet, Duncan swore he could feel them across time.

  What could be did not matter. He was here, in this time, and he must make his way. The feel of the blades in his boots comforted him as he walked across the empty street. Violet and Dora were under his protection and would be until he went home.

  They ate dinner in the backyard at a scarred wooden table that reminded him of home. Solar lanterns captured light from the sun, turning the darkness to day. Magic.

  “’Twas an excellent meal. My thanks to ye, Mr. Williams.”

  The older man rubbed his belly. “You and Violet provided the meat and beer, least I could do was cook.” He scratched the white whiskers on his chin.

  “It’s funny, you acted like you’d never seen a propane grill before.”

  “I have cooked over many fires, but nay, I have never used such a grill to cook.”

  The man took another bottle of ale from the cooler and passed one to Duncan.

  “Nothing beats cooking over a wood fire, but propane is easy and there’s no mess to clean up. When you get to be my age, you appreciate easy.”

  Violet and Dora told the girl’s grandfather about her adventure in the water. They made him out to be a hero, making Duncan snort with laughter.

  He had been curious how the white tank made fire for the grill. Duncan asked question after question about the grill, cars, electricity, and the solar lights until he saw Violet giving him what she called ‘the look’, so he knew he had asked too many questions.

  Mr. Williams enjoyed talking about how things worked. In his younger days, the older man helped build big bridges that went across long spans of water.

  Fascinated, Duncan ask
ed many more questions about the big bridges. Violet told Mr. Williams that Duncan had lost his memory and believed he was from medieval Scotland.

  Clear brown eyes met Duncan’s and he thought the old man believed he was telling the truth, though Mr. Williams simply nodded and looked thoughtful.

  They bid them goodnight and on the way out promised Dora she could come over to help Violet clean out the cabinets in exchange for cereal tomorrow.

  He offered his arm to escort Violet across the street to her home.

  “You were telling me about a cousin of yours? The one who disappeared?”

  “Aye.” Duncan watched the beam of light she carried as they crossed the dark yard.

  “I was a wee lad, smaller than Dora. One night, my da was in his cups and told the tale of Connor McTavish.” He told her the tale again. She’d been distracted before and had forgotten.

  “Who knows what truly happened to him? Mayhap he met a foul end on the battlefield as some said or mayhap he fled to another land.” Duncan stared off into the distance. “Or perhaps he traveled to another time.”

  Violet took his hand in hers and squeezed.

  “If he did, I hope he’s happy and made a good life in whatever time and place he ended up.”

  “Aye.” Duncan looked away, his throat clogged up, and he sniffed.

  “There’s a breeze off the water tonight, let’s sit on the dock, it looks like the water has gone down enough. In another day or two, hopefully it will be back to normal.”

  Duncan carried the chairs to the dock along with a bottle of wine from the cooling box. It felt good to move as he had today when he painted. He was unused to doing so little labor. Mr. Williams suggested he take up jogging, though why anyone wanted to run unless they were being chased was beyond the man’s ken.

  “I can feel you fidgeting. Try to relax.” She let out a soft sigh. “I need to call my mom and let her know how things are going.”

  Violet took a tiny rectangle from her pocket, the thing she called a phone. After a moment, she spoke into the object.

  Duncan was thinking about what he could do in this time to provide for himself if he could not go home when Violet held the phone out in front of her, a frown on her face.

  There was a face on the box, and it was speaking. Duncan jumped from the chair, blade in his hand.