LEGEND

by Jude Deveraux

  “Looks to me like this is Legend,” Wendell said, looking around her. “A little bit changed, but that’s the graveyard. I’ve seen it all my life.”

  “I don’t need this now,” Kady said with her fists clenched at her sides as Wendell moved ahead of her. “I have something very important to do, and I don’t need any interference.”

  With a raised eyebrow, Wendell looked back at Kady. “So what’s going on with you, my brother, and my sexy cousin? And if you tell me that lie about you two being married, I’ll do whatever I can to cause trouble. And trust me on this, I can cause a lot of trouble.”

  “Look, I really don’t have time for this. You and I can have a cat fight later. I have to see that Tarik is alive and—” From the look of interest on Wendell’s face she knew that was the wrong tack. “You must return. Just go back up that path and—”

  “The only way I’m leaving is if someone carries me. Think you’re big enough?”

  “Not with two pack elephants,” Kady said with her sweetest smile, then turned away and started walking quickly toward town while Wendell rolled her bike along beside her.

  “Why wouldn’t my cousin be alive?” Wendell asked.

  Kady thought she might as well tell the truth, since she didn’t have time to try to concoct some plausible lie. “He may have been hanged for bank robbery.”

  “I see.”

  Kady’s lips tightened. “You can stop patronizing me, as I know very well that you see nothing.”

  “I see that you have no weapon and no backup army. Hell, you don’t even have information, so how can you save anyone from anything?”

  Kady began to walk faster.

  “So what are you going to do? Cook something so wonderful that the bad guys hand Tarik over to you as a thank-you gift?”

  “No, I’m going to trade you for him,” she said with all the spite she could muster and could have kicked herself for ever asking this woman for a ride on her bike.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Wendell said softly.

  Kady almost paused in walking as she looked at Wendell, who was staring straight ahead, her eyes wide. “You would certainly cause a distraction,” she said, and Wendell smiled.

  “Look, cookie, we ought to make a plan.”

  “All right, Spike, I am going to make one.”

  Wendell snorted in laughter and kept following Kady, the huge black motorcycle at her side, masses of red hair blowing about her. “Not that I have much use for women, but I could half like you.”

  “If that’s a compliment, thanks. So here’s the plan.” Kady didn’t bother with the preliminaries of asking Wendell her thoughts, nor did she bother informing her of what had led up to today. “I want you to hide. I want you to keep out of sight while I go into town and—”

  “Like hell I will! I’ll—”

  “You’ll have everyone looking at you!” Kady half yelled. “Which is what I want nearly as much as you do, but you’re going to do it when I say you can.”

  At this Wendell almost smiled, and Kady took a deep breath. “I’m going into town alone and find out where Tarik is and what’s going on. No one will pay any attention to me. You’ll wait here, and I’ll come back for you.”

  “Stay out of sight, huh?” Wendell asked with a little smirk as though to say that was an impossibility.

  Looking at her in her skin-tight leathers, Kady shook her head. “In the real world, what do you do for a living?”

  “Nothing. I married a rich old man, and he died three days after the wedding. Left everything to me.” Wendell said this with a look of defiance, as though daring Kady to make a judgment.

  “You must be a very lonely woman,” Kady said, surprising Wendell so much the smirk left her handsome face.

  But Wendell recovered herself quickly, then snorted. “Go on. I’ll take a nap. I had a busy night.”

  Kady paused only long enough to watch Wendell roll her motorcycle under the shade of some cottonwood trees before she took off at a half run. As she knew from having seen the town with Ruth, this was Damnation Avenue, and to her left was the Jordan Line, which meant that she was illegally on the Jordan side. Would armed guards shoot her for trespassing?

  To her right she passed the dirt road that led to the Jordan house, the place that she was staying in the twentieth century with Hannibal. For a moment she hesitated as she got her bearings. The town was so different each time she saw it that it was difficult to find her way around, and now the fading light was making it nearly impossible. Past the road to the Jordan house was what Cole had called the library. In his dreamworld it had been big and beautiful, but in truth it was just a small, simple board building that needed a coat of paint. Further ahead she could see the church that was half the size it had been in Cole’s town.

  Between the library and the church, the road turned left and there was a huge circle that could be used to turn the largest wagons, so there would be no excuse for anyone coming onto Jordan land. Beyond the stone wall that kept out the riffraff was the town of Legend, and even at this distance Kady could see the reason for the wall. Was there anything in Legend besides saloons? As far as she could see there were nothing but garish signs advertising gambling and girls: French girls, pretty girls, wild women. On and on the signs went.

  “No wonder Ruth hated the place,” Kady whispered before she turned and started down the street, thinking that maybe she should have strapped on a pair of six-shooters and—

  She halted as she heard the unmistakable sound of steel against steel, like the sound she’d heard in a hundred swashbuckler movies. “Tarik!” she said under her breath, then stayed still and listened. When she heard the sound again, she didn’t hesitate but picked up her skirts and began running through the grass and weeds toward the back of the library.

  When she reached the sound, she paused in horror for a few seconds before leaping. Tarik was being held by a man who had his arm around Tarik’s throat, a huge curved-blade sword ready to remove his head. As Wendell had pointed out, Kady had no weapon, so she grabbed a rock from the ground and jumped onto the back of the man, bringing the rock down on his head, and he crumpled instantly.

  “What the—?” Tarik said when the man suddenly released him.

  “Are you all right?” Kady asked as she threw her arms around Tarik’s waist. “Did he hurt you? Are they going to hang you? Luke got away, and he wanted to come back for you, but—”

  She broke off because she could feel Tarik chuckling. Chuckling. As in laughter.

  Slowly, she pulled away from him and looked up at his face, which was full of mirth. “I do beg your pardon,” she said stiffly, then turned to walk away, but he caught her arm and held her.

  “Kady, honey, habibbi,” he said, but he could hardly contain his amusement. “I’ll explain everything in a minute, but first I think I better look after my grandfather.”

  As intriguing as this was, Kady still refused to look at him. For the last several hours she had been frantic about him, as had Luke, but here he was laughing as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Truthfully, she never wanted to see him again, so when he released her arm to look at the man on the ground, Kady kept walking. She’d go back to Hannibal’s Legend and forget all about the whole incident. Better yet, she’d forget that the Jordans even existed.

  “No you don’t,” Tarik said as he firmly put his arm around her shoulders and led her back to the man on the ground, who was beginning to rouse himself. “Are you all right?” Tarik asked, looking down at the man.

  Kady didn’t want to look at either man, as she was now sure that holding swords at each other’s throats was one of those things that boys and men loved to do. But when the man looked up at her, she almost gasped, for he was an older version of Tarik, the same dark eyes, the same lips, the same look of sensuality that had always made Kady’s knees weak.

  Her first reaction was to go to the man and apologize for hitting him, but she held her ground. Instead of looking at him, she stared off into
space, refusing to speak to either man.

  “This is Kady?” the man asked in an accent she didn’t recognize. “She has even more beauty than you told me of.”

  Tarik tightened his grip on Kady’s shoulders. “And she is brave and honest and honorable and—”

  “I am not going to forgive you,” she hissed as she hit him in the ribs with her elbow, trying to make him release her. “Why didn’t you let Luke know you were all right?”

  While still holding her next to him, he smoothed her hair back from her forehead, then kissed it. “Sweetheart, Luke left here three days ago. If I had been hanged, it would have happened long before you came back to save me.”

  For the first time she looked up at him, and when she did, her anger left her. What did anger matter, as long as he was alive and unhurt? But still . . .

  Reading the expression in her eyes, Tarik hugged her closer. “How about something to eat?”

  “I’m not hungry, but I’m sure the people back in Legend are. I should go home and feed them.”

  The older man was on his feet now, and Kady could see a lump forming on the side of his forehead, and she felt guilty for it. Why hadn’t she at least paused long enough to see the man’s face before clobbering him?

  “It is nothing,” the man said as he bent to take her hand and kiss the air above it. “Such as I am not worthy to kiss one as beautiful as you.”

  Kady looked up at Tarik as though to ask, Is this man for real? but Tarik was scowling in a way that made her think he was jealous—which pleased Kady to no end. With a quick twist, she moved out of Tarik’s grasp and linked her arm with the older man’s. “You must be Gamal.”

  “I have that honor,” he said as he slipped his hand over hers, and they started to walk away.

  But Tarik caught her, and when he pulled her to the other side of him, Gamal politely excused himself with an amused expression. He knew when to leave lovers alone.

  “You want to tell me why they didn’t hang you?” Kady said as soon as they were alone. “And did you save Cole?” It was full dark now, and the night sounds surrounded them. Kady could barely see where she was going, but Tarik seemed to have the eyes of a cat, as he never faltered.

  “Yes,” he said, smiling. “I was able to prevent the robbery taking place, but it seems that the good citizens of Legend thought I was in on the attempt. They’re a greedy lot. No wonder Ruth closed the whole town down.”

  “So how did you escape them?” She really shouldn’t be talking to him, of course. If he’d had any concern for the feelings of others, he would have come back to tell them that he was all right.

  “Gamal,” Tarik said softly. “After Luke got away, the citizens were a tad angry. You know, in our time we have movies and TV showing hangings and murders, but here they have the real thing. People were packing picnic lunches to take with them to watch Luke and me hanged.”

  At the thought of how real it had been and how close he had come to losing his life, Kady tightened her hand on his arm, and at that, Tarik turned and pulled her into his arms, kissing her with a tenderness that made her forgive him everything. “So what did he do to save you? Hold them at sword point?”

  “Told them I was a relative of his and I had been hired by the Jordans to protect the bank. All they had to do was look at the two of us and see that he was telling the truth about our kinship.”

  Hugging her, he put his cheek on top of her head. “I’m sorry that I caused you even a moment of worry. But when Luke didn’t return right away with an army behind him, I figured there was some sort of time mix-up. I wanted to return to you immediately, but since I seem to have saved the lives of my ungrateful ancestors, I figure the rock will never be open again, and I wanted to take this opportunity to . . . well, to look around. And to get to know my great-great-great-grandfather.”

  With her arms around him, she snuggled her head on his chest, hearing his heart beat, feeling the warmth of him. Feeling the life of him. “Does he know where you come from?”

  “No. So far I haven’t told him anything, but he’s quite clever, so I think he’s figured out some of it. But he doesn’t pry.”

  “What about the rest of your family? Have you seen them?”

  “Only in passing. They keep to themselves. As far as I can tell, they don’t bother with events as insignificant as hangings.” He said this last with bitterness in his voice.

  With his hands on her shoulders, he held her away from him. “Kady, my love, are you hungry? My father—that’s what I call him—is cooking something over a campfire.”

  “Oh?” she said in a way that made him laugh.

  “Maybe you could learn something,” he said, egging her on. “He doesn’t have copper pans and a gas-fired stove. All he has is a few sticks and a couple of cast-iron pots and—”

  “Are you saying that I couldn’t cook over a campfire?” she said, glaring up at him, then realized that he was teasing her. “I’ll get you for that,” she said under her breath as they approached the campfire, and when she saw a whole lamb skewered on a wrought-iron spit, she forgot all about Tarik’s teasing.

  “Roast lamb,” she said, then looked at an enameled plate by the fire. “And kebabs and . . . is that baba ghanouj?” When Gamal handed her a piece of meat pulled from the lamb, she said, “Ooooh, what did you marinate this meat in? No, don’t tell me. It’s—”

  Tarik laughed. “I thought you came here to rescue me, not exchange recipes.”

  “I should have let them hang you.”

  “You would have missed me. Who would brighten up your life if I weren’t around?” He looked at Gamal. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, very. And she can cook?”

  “Divinely.”

  “So how many children have you given her?”

  “None. Yet.”

  “Ah, that is what happens when you dilute Arabian blood. You get men who are not men.”

  At that both Kady and Tarik laughed. It was such an oldfashioned attitude to judge a man by how many children he could make.

  For a moment Gamal was silent as he watched them; then he turned to Tarik. “You say you are my son, but I have been wondering who your mother is.”

  Before Tarik could answer, Kady, with her eyes wide, said, “It’s true then. There are lots of women who could possibly be the mother of your children.”

  Gamal was heaping plates with food for them. When he smiled, his eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “Ruth Jordan,” Tarik said after a moment.

  “But I have never—” Gamal said, then smiled. “But I have wanted to. She is a beautiful woman, but if you are her son, then you are not my son.”

  Tarik took the plate held out to him. “Actually, I’m not your son, I’m your great-great-great-grandson, and if you don’t do anything with Ruth, I may cease to exist.”

  “I see,” Gamal said, amused. “You are a storyteller. A weaver of dreams.”

  “Oh, yes,” Kady said. “He’s a regular Scheherazade. You should hear the whopper he told me about a codicil to Ruth’s will.” Her lightheartedness was to cover how Tarik’s words were upsetting her, as it was something she’d never thought of before. If Tarik had prevented the tragedy of the Jordan family, how was that going to change the twentieth-century Jordans? If Ruth wasn’t widowed and if she didn’t go to bed with Gamal and give birth to a child when she was in her forties, how would that affect Tarik in the twentieth century?

  Tarik was looking at her as though reading her mind. “I think someone who lives in Legend now should know all the story because some things need to happen this year,” she said pointedly.

  Tarik looked at Gamal over his plate. “Do you think I could persuade you to seduce Ruth Jordan?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On how much I must pay you. I am a poor man.”

  While the two men laughed together in conspiracy, Kady looked up at Tarik and said, “He’s your grandfather all right.”
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  As they ate, Tarik started to tell the whole story, from the beginning, and Kady marveled that he remembered every word she had told him. And, to give him credit, he didn’t leave anything out about her relationship with Cole. Gamal ground coffee beans and brewed coffee with the grounds in it. Very strong. Very delicious.

  As Gamal’s capacity for listening seemed to be limitless, Tarik’s story continued after the coffee was finished. When Kady yawned, Tarik pulled her down so her head was on his lap, Gamal spread an old blanket over her and she slept.

  As she dozed by firelight, hearing two deep voices of men, so alike, made her feel good. At one point Tarik was asking Gamal all about his relatives and his ancestors, as they were also Tarik’s relatives. Smiling, she turned over, her face away from the fire, fitting snugly against Tarik’s hard warm belly while he stroked her hair behind her ear and ran his hands over her back.

  Once again she had that feeling of being where she should be, and she realized with a smile that the date and the place didn’t matter. If you were with the right person, you were in the right place.

  “I love you,” she whispered, so softly she almost couldn’t hear herself. But Tarik heard, because he paused for just a second in caressing her hair, and under her cheek she could feel the muscles of his stomach tense then release. But he gave no sign that Gamal could have seen, and she smiled at that. Discipline, she thought and closed her eyes. Over the years he had disciplined himself to keep his true feelings hidden. Smiling, she let herself drift into sleep.

  Chapter 29

  WHILE KADY SLEPT, TARIK AND GAMAL TALKED ALL NIGHT, and only when it was dawn did Kady awaken, sit up and stretch. And when she finished yawning, she turned to see Tarik looking at her with eyes so hot that her clothes suddenly felt too tight.

  Perhaps Gamal saw it, too, for he quietly excused himself, and the minute they were alone, Tarik pulled Kady into his arms and kissed her.

  When he pulled away, he looked into her eyes with such love that Kady wondered at it. No man had ever looked at her like this before, but then, maybe his eyes were a reflection of her own.