“I can’t believe how you must have suffered,” she said, her eyes welling with tears. “Oh, Rowan, I was so scared for you. I couldn’t imagine how I was going to live if something…if…”
“I know, babe. Me, too. It was a bad few hours. Why don’t you get in here with me? You could use a bath, yourself, you know.”
She hesitated, glanced over her shoulder to the hallway where the physician waited on them, then tugged off her clothes and climbed into the tub.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her to him. “I meant to tell you what a great rescue party you made with your boobs falling outta that top of yours,” he said as he kissed her neck. “Really gave the good citizens of Heidelberg a thrill.”
“Oh, my God, Rowan, is that what I think it is?” Her eyes were wide as her hand found his hard-on between his legs. “Not four hours after you’ve been tortured, beaten up and nearly burned at the stake?”
“What can I say? It takes me a while to recover.”
Without another word, she eased onto him and slipped him inside her. Both of them groaned in unison.
“Let me do all the work,” she panted, her hands gripping the sides of the bathtub while her hips moved up and down on him.
“Oh, my God, this isn’t going to last long…this…” She arched her back as the waves of pleasure radiated from the exquisite source between her legs up through her diaphragm and belly. She cried out and somewhere in the back of her mind realized that the door from the hallway had opened and then discreetly closed. She climbed higher and higher, feeling Rowan’s hands on her hips guiding her, driving into her, until she heard him yell and then they both collapsed against the tub side, weak and flaccid.
After a moment, she looked into his brilliant blue eyes and sighed. “What a wild ride life is with you, Rowan,” she said. “What a ride.”
He patted her bare bottom, as he closed his eyes. “Funny,” he said. “I was just going to say the same thing about you. Now if I could only get a really rare steak, a cold beer and a very soft bed for the next twenty hours or so, I’ll be good.”
She kissed his battered face, picked up soap from the dish and began sudsing his chest and arms.
That night, Greta moved her band of outlaw nuns into the castle where they were to reside until their convent was rebuilt. Just before dinner, Ella and Greta walked to the castle kitchens. Ella found Heike and gave her a big hug.
“You were kind to me,” Ella said to the startled girl. “I know Herr Krüger will want to reward all who helped the convent during its time of need.” Ella turned to Greta. “That goes for Cook, too,” she said, nodding at the woman at the stove, who was still clutching her wooden spoon and looking from Ella to Greta with amazement.
“I’ll make sure Christof knows,” Greta said.
As they walked toward the main hall of the castle, Greta hooked her arm in Ella’s and slowed her pace. Ella could not remember a time when her friend looked happier or more relaxed.
“Sister Therese is alive,” Greta said.
“Oh, my God, that’s great!” Ella said. “She survived the tower. What a tough old bird.”
“Her head wound should have received medical attention and she is badly scarred but otherwise she is fine, praise God. She will be at dinner this evening.”
“And the novice Anna?”
“That is not a happy ending,” Greta said.
“I’m so sorry, Greta. That poor girl.”
Ella wanted to ask about Hannah but hesitated. If it was good news, Greta would tell her. If not…
“There are so many good things happening now,” Greta said. “I think we must rejoice while we can. I think it is time for joy and thanksgiving. Not tears.”
“Yeah, good philosophy,” Ella said.
“Will Herr Pierce be able to dine with us tonight?” Greta asked.
“Yeah, he’s good,” Ella said, trying not to blush. “No lasting damage. Well, except for that big ass K on his left shoulder.”
“Rejoice, Ella,” Greta said.
“Oh, trust me, Greta. I’m way ahead of you.”
That night, all the nuns and novices of the convent sat at the castle’s main dining table with Christof and Greta at the head. For a moment, especially when she saw how Christof looked at Greta, Ella wondered if there had once been something romantic between the two. She quickly dismissed the idea. Whatever joined Christof and Greta was bigger and more perfect than an infatuation or mutual attraction. Theirs was a friendship of respect and shared faith amidst adversity.
When the first course was served, Christof had everyone’s wine glasses filled. Then he stood up and asked for silence.
“To the Sisters of Mercy,” he said, lifting his cup. “And to their allies and supporters.” He waved his free hand in the direction of Ella and Rowan, who sat beside Greta. “Heidelberg Castle will always be your home, your refuge, your servant. As will I.”
Everyone lifted their cups to solemnly approve Christof’s toast.
Christof set his glass down but remained standing.
“I promise everyone here,” he said, “that I will personally make reparations for every crime committed against Heidelberg’s Catholics. I further vow to reverse and repair all damages inflicted on the great city of Heidelberg by my father and my elder brother, both of whom will face the executioner’s blade before the month is out.”
“Probably should’ve stopped while he was on an upnote,” Ella whispered to Rowan.
“Personally, I thought the whole bit about the executioner’s blade was an upnote,” Rowan said as he reached for his wine.
“To Heidelberg and all its citizens!” Christof said, lifting his wine cup again. This time, the table broke into cheers. Several of the servants waiting on the table ran to embrace the Sisters and Ella saw that tears were streaming down Greta’s beaming face.
Two days later, after they had all become used to hot food and warm beds and the absence of terror in their daily round, Christof brought Greta the information she had been so anxiously hoping to discover.
It wasn’t good.
Ella and Rowan walked in on the two of them in Hans Krüger’s former office which now belonged to Christof. Greta was facing Christof. They stood very close but were not touching, although Ella could see Christof’s hand hovering near as if he dearly wanted to. Rowan was at Greta’s side in a flash and without hesitation pulled her into his embrace.
“What is it, Greta?” he said.
“It’s Hannah,” Christof said.
Ella tugged on his sleeve. “You’ve found her?”
“She is lost,” Greta said through her tears. “She is lost forever.” Rowan held her close as she sobbed against his shoulder.
Ella could see that Christof had been weeping too.
“Dead?” Ella whispered.
“No, but as good as,” Christof said. “She was sent to Arabia.” He spoke in a low voice as if to spare Greta the pain of hearing it again.
“Where in Arabia?” Ella asked.
Rowan murmured gentle words to Greta as he held her close. He looked at Ella over Greta’s shoulder and his expression said, Don’t even think about it.
The day they chose to leave came soon after the nuns had settled into the castle. Rowan was anxious to get back to his world. His two week vacation had come and gone and he was hoping he still had a job. Ella knew it was time to face whatever was waiting for her back in 2012.
Their last evening together, Greta, Rowan and Ella dined alone.
Rowan wore a velvet doublet of the time but he had drawn the line at the hose and wore workman’s trousers. Greta diplomatically told him he looked original. Ella told him they needed to leave before they torched him for his fashion sense. Ella wore a gown, the first time she had worn period clothing that was not a nun’s habit or a pauper boy’s clothes. Also velvet, it was cut tight at the waist with a neckline so low her breasts popped out frequently as she ate.
“What a pain,” she said, tucking herself back in
to her dress for the hundredth time. “And this doesn’t drive the women crazy having to do this all the time?” she said to Greta.
“I can vouch for the men, if that helps,” Rowan said with a grin.
She laughed and looked at him. Even in just a couple of days, his bruises had turned from purple to yellow, his eye was open again and his ribs were less sore. When she looked at him, her heart felt like it was filling her up with such love that sometimes she didn’t think she could bear a second more of what he gave to her.
Now if it could just last once they got back home…
She turned to Greta who was dressed in a habit that fit her for the first time since Ella had known her.
“I have something for you, Greta,” Ella said. She pulled a paper bag out of her mail pouch that was slung over the lower rung of her dining room chair and handed it to Greta.
Greta touched the paper tenderly. “It is from your time,” she said.
“It is. And it’s a miracle it’s still in one piece but then, I’d say we pretty much got the whole miracle thing nailed. Anyway, I knew this belonged to you.”
Greta gingerly pulled a souvenir mug out of the bag. It was a simple white ceramic mug with a slender handle and the year 2012 painted on the front. The illustration under the date showed the American flag and the German tricolor, their staffs intertwined to show solidarity.
“I used to keep my pens in it on my desk,” Ella said. “Better keep it hidden, tho.’ I don’t want your feet getting scorched because you have a coffee mug in your kitchen dated six hundred years in the future.”
Greta held the mug in both hands, her eyes misting with emotion. “Thank you, Ella,” she said. “You have truly brought peace to both my worlds.”
Ella jumped up and hugged her. “And you, mine, Mother,” she whispered. “And you mine.”
The next morning, Rowan and Ella said their final goodbyes and left Greta at the castle. They walked, holding hands, to the site of the convent garden where they would seek out the portal to return them to their time.
Ella turned and looked back at Heidelberg Castle.
“You know, Rowan?” she said. “What we did here? It was the best thing I’ve ever done.”
Rowan lifted a curl of her hair and pulled it away from her face. He held her chin in his fingers and kissed her on the lips.
“Come on, beautiful,” he said. “We need to leave before something else happens. I don’t know how all this ends up but I’m pretty sure the tide swings back the other way before too long.”
“What do you mean?” Ella frowned and turned to look at the outline of the castle against the blue sky.
“You do know we can’t solve all of history’s problems, right?” He looked around the garden and the street that led to it. “But for this brief shining moment in time…everything is fine. I don’t think we can really hope for more than that.”
She reached for his hand. “Husband, you are a very wise man.”
He grinned and leaned in to kiss her again. “God, I’m going to miss this shit back home in Dothan,” he said.
Epilogue
Heidelberg 2012
This time when she made the trip, Ella hugged Rowan tightly and forced herself to remember her fear and anguish during those twelve hours when he was held captive in the castle. She let the terror and the agony as well as the certainty of her love for him wash over her and become her whole world. It was enough.
They were back.
Ella looked around at her surroundings. She felt flushed with relief that they had, in fact, made it back but the sensation was tinged with sadness that her dear friend was now several lifetimes away. She looked over at the little graveyard which she knew contained the graves of generations of the Sisters of Mercy. She couldn’t bear to see if Greta’s name was inscribed on one of the ancient, worn tombstones.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that people walking by don’t give us a second look, the way we’re dressed?” Rowan said. He grabbed her hand to lead her away from the spot that used to be the little convent garden but was now just an empty lot on a vacant side street. It was late afternoon and Rowan didn’t appear to be interested in reflecting on where they had come from or whom they had left behind. He was hungry.
“For that, I guess we can be grateful,” Ella said as she hurried behind him on the sidewalk. Their wallets and bankcards had burned in the convent fire so Rowan stopped at a supermarket and used the phone to call his office to have three hundred Euros wired to him and two one-way flights booked to the States for the next day.
“I could murder a cheeseburger,” he said.
Ella looked at the modern city streets and marveled that she and Rowan really were back. Life during this time is so easy, she thought, as they passed the grocery stores and restaurants, the dress shops and druggists. Was she just imagining it, or had Rowan disconnected the minute they got back?
“I feel out of place here, don’t you?” she said as she struggled to keep up with his long strides. “I mean, do you know what I mean?”
“Not really. Why don’t you give yourself some time to re-enter the modern age? Meanwhile, how ‘bout focusing on getting your man something to damn eat?”
Ella looked at him and forced herself to smile. “Yeah, sure,” she said. “I could eat, too.”
She took his arm and continued in the direction of her apartment and a huge plate of wienerschnitzel and pommes frites. She kept smiling so as not to give away the fact that she had noticed he said your man and not your husband.
The apartment looked exactly as Rowan had left it. Ella dropped her bag in the foyer, then went and collapsed on the couch. He stood in the foyer and frowned at the dropped bag. It suddenly occurred to him that he really didn’t have the first idea of what living with Ella was like.
“I’m dying for a hot shower,” she said, and began to pull off her jacket.
“If we clean up first, we run the risk of my passing out from lack of food.”
“No, problem. The shower will be here when we get back.” She stood in the living room watching him. “It’s so different here, isn’t it?” she said.
“Yeah, good different,” he said. “Grab some money and let’s hit that place downstairs.”
Was he imagining things or were things weird between them?
“They only serve tourist food,” Ella said.
“I would have thought you’d have had your fill of eating like a native,” he said.
He thought she gave him a strange look as she went to find some Euros in one of the kitchen drawers.
Dinner was basic but exquisite. They ate in a restaurant around the corner from her apartment. It served largely tourist fare and Ella had stopped eating there after her third meal in Germany. But Rowan was not yet tired of meat and potatoes—especially after ten days of eating mush, mutton and moldy bread. Ella watched him with fascination as he ate a huge plate of wienerschnitzel and downed two beers. She was so used to looking over her shoulder, it took her until dessert before she could relax. Two large glasses of gewürztraminer also helped.
“Great to be back, huh?” she said. They had spoken little at dinner, which surprised her. In 1620, when she had allowed herself to fantasize about being back in 2012 with Rowan and not having to worry about being cold, hungry, or burned at the stake, she always imagined herself deliriously happy. She imagined that the comforts of life—and Rowan—were all she would need to be happy. It didn’t bode well that their first day back in 2012 was a fairly awkward one.
She watched Rowan signal for the bill and felt a wave of anxiety. Things were different. He was different.
“Now what?” she asked, trying to sound light.
“Well, the money should be here by morning. I had them book the first flights out but that’s not until tomorrow afternoon.”
“I forgot to ask,” she said. “Where are we flying to?”
He looked at her with surprise. “Well, Dothan. Of course.”
Ella felt a chill
of excitement in the pit of her stomach. “Oh,” she said. “I didn’t know they had an international airport.”
“They don’t,” he said. “We fly into Atlanta first.”
“Oh, okay.”
“You okay, Ella?” He leaned over to touch her hand for the first time since they had returned to the future. “I just assumed by all the major ass-kicking you did in 1620 that you wouldn’t get rattled by a little thing like re-entering the twenty-first century.”
Ella took in a big breath. “I miss Greta,” she said.
The waiter came with the check and Rowan paid. They walked outside into the cold night air.
“We didn’t have Thanksgiving,” Ella said.
“Yeah, I thought about that,” Rowan said. “About the time I was picking the millipedes out of my oatmeal.”
“There were no millipedes in your oatmeal.”
“Just being colorful, darlin’.” He put his arm around her and they walked down the dark street.
As they entered her apartment building, Ella knew she should be thinking of the steaming hot shower or the three hundred thread count sheets and goose down pillow she would sink into tonight. She knew she should be anticipating the endless café mochas that would be a part of her life from now on. But all she could think of was, Am I still married? Am I still Mrs. Rowan Pierce? When she knew, almost certainly, that that was not possible.
Rowan turned on the computer in the living room as soon as they were in the apartment.
“Really, Rowan?” she asked, standing alone in the foyer.
“Babe, just give me a minute, okay? I’ve only got about a million emails to take a look at. I won’t be long. Why don’t you take your shower?”
There was a time not long ago when he would have found it unthinkable the idea of her taking a steaming hot shower alone.
“Good idea,” she said.
After the longest shower of her life, Ella wrapped herself up in her fluffiest towel and returned to the living room. Rowan was still on the computer.
[Tempus Fugitives 01.0] Swept Away Page 24