“Oh, you bitch! I love that dress! I get to borrow it soon.”
“I figured as much. I hate to point out the obvious, but you need somewhere to wear it first. Casing out your next clueless victim doesn’t count. So, either you get a date, or learn to envy it from afar, darlin’.” Mary’s grin was full of snark and taunt.
“Evil. Pure evil! How do you live with yourself? Forcing me into going on a date with some poor sap who won’t stand a chance. It is always the same. Dinner full of awkward silence and generic small talk, followed by drinks or something lame in attempts to pretend a shred of romance, which will only disappear by date three or four. Then there is the kiss goodnight. Nine times out of ten, they either suck your face off or make you gag at their lack of skill. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone who can actually kiss?”
“It can’t be that bad, drama queen. Most men can kiss.”
“No, I’m not talking about lips together and tongue in your mouth. I mean the curl-your-toes, butterflies-in-your-tummy, fire-down-below, fuck-me—now kissing. It is an almost extinct quality,” Robin sighed. The truth hurt. She hadn’t been in a relationship since the courting her father had forced her into a few weeks after she had graduated high school. George Filbin II was the son of a billionaire architect whose company was set to merge with her father’s. Like most rich aristocrats, the name was handed down to show power and lineage. Surprisingly, George was good looking, with prominent features and a physique most men would be envious about. His personality, on the other hand, was worse than a wet mop. Add his lack of a sense of humor and the overly anal need to be proper every second of every day, was enough to make anyone want to hang themselves. George and Robin were supposed to seal the deal like in some nineteenth century arranged marriage. Like most, when Robin packed up and ran the night before their wedding, the deal had gone south and the full blame went on her from her father’s point of view. It took over a year for him to speak to her, and longer for him to give her financial support. Even now, her inheritance wasn’t set in stone. He hung it over her head to get his way any chance he got.
Since then, she had made a vow never to let anyone delegate her future. Robin was a strong independent woman who knew what she wanted in life and refused to settle for less, which was intimidating to all of the guys she had went out with. By date two, she knew there would be no phone call and didn’t expect there to be. It had become a ritual that after any date that made it to the second, she would immediately call Mary who would show up with Ben and Jerry’s Banana Split ice cream and a stack of chick flicks to commemorate the last time Robin would see or hear from the guy. It was always a special occasion, since most didn’t make it through the first date let alone survive an entire second. With a deep huff of accepting the inevitable, Robin frowned. “Why would I waste a dress like that on a man who won’t notice? We both know that by the time we get to the restaurant, the only thing the poor sap will be thinking is how to get rid of me.”
Mary nodded. “True. But, unless you try, you’ll never find the ‘one’. There is some man out there searching for a beauty with brains who can think for herself. You just need to keep an open mind and give them a chance, Robin.”
“Or, there are twenty plus cats who are searching for a pathetic old spinster to come along and become their crazy cat lady. Maybe I should be window shopping for moo moos instead of hot dresses. It would be a lot more reasonable.” Her little nose squished up at the visions that floated through her mind.
Mary couldn’t help but laugh. There was no way in hell a woman as gorgeous as Robin would ever fall to that level. For one, she was just too damn stubborn. “You’re such a dork. If you ask me, Mr. Giggles seems like he might have a thing for you. Maybe you stole his heart while you were robbing them blind.” Her corny comment threw them both into laughter so hard they had tears.
“I’m the dork? With lines like that, I can’t imagine why you aren’t married off. How do you keep the guys from begging at your feet?”
“Ah, my witty charm is frowned upon by the upper class gentlemen. You know as well as I do that none of them have a sense of humor. I’m branded as unladylike and a harlot. So, I’m now broadening my prospects to all types. I have a date tonight with an oil field worker…or whatever they call themselves.”
“You naughty girl! Spill it! Where the heck would you even find someone like that?” Robin propped her chin on her fist eagerly waiting for the scoop. Mary had a new hot date every weekend, and despite Robin’s lack of intimacy, she got to live vicariously through her best friend. Some of her wild stories were hotter than the erotic romance books she escaped into every night.
Mary pulled her feet up under her, crossing them Indian style and grinned. “Okay, well, it all started about a week ago when I stopped in to get my morning Venti Carmel Mocha Frappe with a double shot of espresso. There I was, standing in line, when this hot hunk of muscles came walking through the door in tight Levi’s and a plain black t-shirt. God, Robin, I couldn’t help but stare! He has the bluest eyes I have ever seen. Me, being the klutz that I am, made it a whole three steps before I tripped and fell, spilling my coffee all over him. Thank goodness I had decided on a frozen caffeine fix instead of my normal latte or cappuccino, because he would have needed medical attention. It literally shot up in the air and all over his face and chest. After he helped me to my feet and I proceeded to grovel in apology, he took his shirt off and let me clean him up with paper towels. Every woman in there wanted to be me. When I asked him if I could just lick it off, he laughed and asked for my number. We are going out tomorrow to some steakhouse on the outskirts of the city.”
“How did you end up with a date after drenching him? I swear you have all the luck. I can’t believe you offered to lick him clean! Oh my gosh, Mary, I swear. Totally epic. I bet your parents would be so proud,” she said, letting her last words drip with snarkiness.
“Ah, yes. Mommy dearest had to go lie down because she felt faint after I told her. I got out of cocktail hour after dinner even. Best family dinner night ever,” Mary giggled.
The rest of the evening the girls chattered between episodes of their favorite shows, catching up like they did every Friday night. After the third bottle of wine was emptied, they called it a night and Mary took her normal spot on the sofa while Robin went to bed. Tomorrow was going to be hard, and she needed this little fun night to make it through.
Two days prior, she had learned of a group of people who had been cast out of their home in the suburbs and had been laid off from their jobs, forced to make camp in the woods. With the economy plummeting, more and more people were seeking refuge at the camp. Women and children alike were forced to live off the land, making their home in the trees of Sherwood Forest. It was surreal to imagine being tossed back in time where there was no electric, modern technology, or running water for that matter. Hell, Robin freaked if her cable or Internet went out for longer than an hour or two. She had only been camping a few times in her life, which had been in a motor home the size of her apartment. Her parents’ idea of roughing it meant not having the maid or other servants around to tend to everything. Those were the only times she could remember her mother ever cooking or cleaning. Fetching water to cook and bathe with was almost unfathomable. If her apartment had been bigger, or her father would allow her access to her inheritance, she would move them all in with her or pay for housing for them without blinking an eye. Which was probably why he didn’t and had forced her to work to pay her own way. He still gave her an allowance, which she used to help at the soup kitchens and the elderly that couldn’t afford their medications. So far, he hadn’t found out. She had to be careful or risk loosing that as well. Tomorrow, she would go and visit them and see what she could do to help. Snuggled between her Egyptian cotton sheets and down comforter, Robin couldn’t help but feel guilty for having so much when they had so little.
Chapter Two
Despite the slight headache she woke with, Robin felt good ab
out her plans for the day. She had a busy schedule and rushed to get things started. Coffee in hand, she ran out the door and down the steps en route to Sherwood Forest.
The farther out of the city she drove, the better she felt. There was a calming to the country that the busy hustle and bustle of the city lacked. Neighborhoods began to spread out, dwindling with each passing mile. Soon, only a single stand-alone house could be seen from time to time warning that her destination was growing nearer. From the greenery to the crisp clean air, Robin let her senses soak in the cleanliness of her environment. Soon she ventured down the narrow road, leading into a thicket of trees that canopied overhead, creating a green tunnel. She slowed her speed, allowing her to take in the scenery around her. Squirrels scurried from one tree to another, jumping with such grace and perfection. A jackrabbit hopped along through the pillowy meadow, munching on the plush grass and violet flowers that peppered the area with pops of color. A rainbow of butterflies fluttered from one flower to the next, giving the whole scene an almost fairytale feel. If she didn’t know better, she would almost believe she had driven smack dab into the middle of a Disney movie.
The road began to narrow, turning from pavement to dirt. Robin slowed her little sports car down to avoid damage, dodging the potholes and rough spots carefully. The small little low water bridges didn’t seem structurally sound, but she made it over each one by holding her breath and reassuring herself the little creeks that ran underneath wouldn’t be deep enough to submerge the car had it collapsed. Driving off into a body of water and drowning was one of her top three major fears, next to being burned to death or buried alive. Even the larger river that was crossed by a rickety wooden bridge didn’t appear deep enough to drown in.
An hour into the trip, she slowed to a stop in front of a fallen log that had landed across the road. “Shit. How am I supposed to get past that?” Unbuckling her seatbelt, she weighed her options. She could turn around and give up, wasting her morning, or try to figure out how to get past the obstacle. Not being one to give in to defeat, Robin walked over and attempted to pick up the end. “Ummmph!” The log was heavier than she thought. She strained and grunted, using all her strength only to get it off the ground a few mere inches. It was no use. The tree was too heavy and big for her to manhandle alone. She looked around, hoping something would appear that would help only to be ambushed by a group of bow and gun wielding men who came from the treetops and out of the ground brush. “What the….” She jumped, startled and stunned. Her pepper spray was in the car and out of reach given their close proximity. The self-defense classes she had taken might help, but there was no way she could fight off two… Her eyes went wide, spotting yet another beast of a man to make three assailants circling around her.
“Are you the people that live out here?” Her voice shook, showing her fear. She tried to steady herself but these people wouldn’t think twice about killing her. They were in survival mode. Everything had been taken from them, and if someone threatened to take their last resource, they would stop at nothing.
The man directly to her left stepped closer, taking the role as leader amongst the others. “That is of no concern to a bloody reporter. We know who you are, Miss Robin Hoode, of the Seattle Journal. And, we won’t allow you to plaster our business in the news for the world to see. Sherwood Forest is government land. If word gets out, we’ll be forced to leave.” He stepped closer, his huge shoulders squared off in an intimidating challenge. Robin knew if she showed even the slightest bit of weakness that would be it. With a deep breath, she straightened her spine and tilted her chin up just enough to look him square in the eyes.
“I know. That’s why I’ve come. I seem to be at a disadvantage though. You know my name, but I don’t know yours. I do hope living out here hasn’t affected you so as to lose all common courtesy,” her tone sharp and equally as dominating.
One of the others behind him chuckled. “She is as they say. A firecracker that one. Miss Robin, meet Will Scarlet. I am Pastor Tuck. That monster there is Duncan Locksley, but we call him Bull for obvious reasons.”
In a heavy Irish accent, Bull laughed, “Aye, but the ladies call me that 'cause I am hung…”
“Bull! Not in front of a lady. Maybe she’s right about you and you have lost your manners out here in the brush,” Tuck interrupted.
Robin couldn’t help but giggle. She raised her hand to cover her laughs, but couldn’t stop. The whole scene was just too much. The best of writers couldn’t assemble a story like this.
“It’s kind of risky, laughing at the ones who could wipe you from this earth, don’t you think, princess?” Will growled, only making her giggles turn into belly clenching laughter. His bright green eyes widened to match the look of disbelief that spread across his hard-set features, only egging her on more. This six foot five, two hundred sixty plus pounds of solid male, whose body many would kill for, had been rocked by a tiny five foot six, one hundred twenty pounds—on a good day—girl was too much to take in. Pastor Tuck soon burst out in chuckles with her, angering the devilishly handsome Will even more.
“I’m glad you’re all amused. I won’t risk losing the last place we have to go for some little rich girl to get her story in the Sunday’s paper for the people who put us here to read while they sip their tea in their million dollar houses!” He took a deep breath before continuing his rant, “The Mayor has taxed all of us and left us with nothing! Look at her car! That alone could feed us all for a year, maybe more! You, Robin Hoode, can’t fool me. Go back to your glamorous life and let us be!” Will turned and huffed back into the woods, disappearing through a thicket of dense brush and greenery.
Tuck stepped forward, shaking his head. “Eh, don’t mind him. Will is as hot tempered as they come. He’ll settle down. So, what brings you to our neck of the woods?” He smiled at his own joke. It amazed her how they could be in such good spirits given they had nothing. Everything had been taken away from them, yet their outlook was still strong.
“I am a journalist by day, as Will so bluntly pointed out. But, by night, I work bringing justice to the people who have been taxed and forced into a life of poverty. It’s true; I do come from a wealthy family. Because I didn’t believe in the same social segregation as my father, I work to support myself. I also use my connections to help people like you.” Robin relaxed some, feeling less threatened by the pastor. Bull could snap her like a twig, but she was willing to put money on it that he was more of a teddy bear than a raging bull. That nickname should have gone to Will.
“Watch yourself, lass. What do you mean, ‘people like us’?” Bull sounded offended, requiring some explaining in which Robin jumped to offer up.
“I’m sorry, I mean people who have been forced out of their homes. People who have been cast out by the rich who remain rich while you were bankrupt by taxes. There are people that I know on a personal level who spend more on a painting for their foyer than you made annually. They have to find ways to spend their money, while you have to find ways to eat, and survive. I simply give them more reason to spend their cash, while I help families make ends meet.”
“So, you’re telling me, that you…little Robin Hoode, steal from the rich to feed the poor?” Tuck said, arching an eyebrow with a smirk.
Robin couldn’t help but grin at his reference, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from laughing. “Yes, I guess you can put it that way.”
“And, you came out here to help us?” Bull asked, scratching his head.
Robin smiled sweetly. “Yes. I heard about the woodsmen who lived off the land and built their homes in the mysterious Sherwood Forest, and had to see for myself. Are there more of you?”
Both Bull and Tuck glanced at each other in silent question before Tuck answered her. “Yes. Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour. You have to swear that you won’t tell anyone we are here. The woods provide us with everything we need to survive. Animals to eat…trees to make shelter. Water to drink and wash. If others discover us,
we’ll lose it all. There are no other options for any of us, Robin.”
“Of course not. I…might be able to help soon. I have a job coming up that could possibly wield enough to help a substantial number of people.”
“Great. Come on then, Franny should have lunch about done!” Bull grabbed her hand and dragged her forward through the trees. She had to almost run to keep up with him and Tuck who both had legs almost longer than she was tall. When he released her she was almost out of breath. “Who is Franny?”
“Franny is my wife. She and the babes are back at camp where it’s safe. She is busy making the best deer steak you’ve ever tasted.” His expression lit up with the mention of his beloved. It warmed her heart to see a man still deeply in love despite the evil that was around them.
“I bet it is.” She followed the two in a half jog trying to keep up when her foot got snagged on a thorn vine and she tripped, falling to the ground. She hit the hard surface with a thud—her knees taking most of the force. “Ouch!” She stood slowly, watching as her favorite jeans grew red stains over her kneecaps. “Damn.” Tuck turned around to see what was wrong. “Oh, sorry, pastor. My mouth isn’t always as ladylike as it should be.”
He smiled. “As mine, Robin. I am a man of the cloth, but to err is human. Our God is a forgiving God. Let me have a look.” He pulled up her pant legs to reveal the deep cuts and scrapes the rocky ground had caused. “Oh. These look pretty deep. Franny can fix up a salve that will stop the bleeding and help heal them up in no time. Can you make it the rest of the way?”
Robin sighed. “It’s only a little scrape. I’ll live. I am more upset that my favorite jeans are ruined now.”
Tuck laughed. “Okay, let’s get you back to camp and fixed up. Tis’ nothing a little homemade wine can’t cure.”
Robin and Her Merry Men Page 2