by Lexi Post
“Uncle Richard used to ride?” Braeden moved back to the chair and sat. “How did he get involved?”
Stephen grinned. “Grandpa Van Brunt passed it on to him. Hell, it’s been in the family since the very first Washington Irving Festival. Actually, even earlier. I believe it goes back to an old Halloween celebration the Van Brunts joined.”
“This is news to me.”
“Of course it is. You can’t find everything on the internet. Sometimes hanging out with the relatives is very informative.”
Braeden looked away. He had no argument to counter Stephen’s point, so he kept silent.
“Only one person needs to ride every year and we all love the rush, so we certainly aren’t going to share the pleasure.” Stephen coughed and reached for the juice again. Taking a sip, he pointed at Braeden. “Don’t get me started or I’ll get excited all over again. Why? Did you enjoy it?”
Did he? Hell, yeah. If he’d known what a blast it was to be the Headless Horseman, he would have wrestled Stephen for the honor years ago. “Yeah, I did. It’s been a long time since I’ve ridden a horse like Daredevil.”
“You rode Daredevil?” Stephen’s eyes widened, making his pale face look ghoulish.
Braeden shrugged. “Yeah. I needed a big enough horse.”
“I should have known.”
“So the Van Brunts have been playing the Headless Horseman for generations. What about the re-enacters? All those people in that village. They are very focused on being authentic. Did you know in addition to having no electricity, there’s no cell phone service either?”
“Really? How about that. You must have been lost. Good thing you only had to be there a couple hours.” Stephen’s crooked grin proved he thought Braeden incapable of functioning without technology.
How wrong he was. Braeden straightened. “As a matter of fact, I spent two nights at the Sleepy Hollow Inn.”
“How the hell did you pull that off?”
Braeden stood again. “I begged.”
“What?”
He faced his brother and grinned sheepishly. “I begged. I never made a reservation and I didn’t get in until almost nine. Katrina Van Tassel took pity on me.”
“Funny, she never took pity on me. Then again, I never rolled into the village the night of the ride without a room.”
Braeden ignored his brother’s admonishment and started to pace. “But something strange happened. Actually, many strange events occurred, but the one that bothers me the most is the fact the entire village disappeared Sunday night.”
Stephen’s brows drew down. “What do you mean, disappeared? You mean they packed up their stalls and went home? That sounds pretty normal for a fair.”
“No, I mean the buildings, the people, even the litter disappeared. I slept in that inn. It was a solid building. In fact, I was asleep in one of its beds when it disappeared and I woke in the field. Can you explain that?”
“No, but it could have been a prank. Maybe they moved you to another field.”
“But my car was right where I left it, and there’s no way anyone can get into that baby without setting off enough alarms for the police to hear it all the way into town. No, the entire village vanished.” He’d found no trace of anything the next morning despite searching the area all day. He’d finally given up and driven home. He’d even charged his phone off his car and took photos.
Stephen remained silent.
Braeden stopped pacing. “Well, what do you think?”
His brother started as if he’d been in deep thought. “I think that Sleepy Hollow has always had strange things happen there. I guess this is just another. As long as the village ‘reappears’ next year, that’s all that matters.”
Braeden studied his older brother, positive he knew more than he was telling, and that bothered him. They’d always shared secrets, triumphs and failures. Only Stephen knew how devastating the fiasco with Reed had been to him. And only he knew when Stephen married Marilyn, they were both virgins. Yet now Stephen held back. Why?
Stephen looked so frail, Braeden squashed his need to shake the information out of him. Guilt shot through him just for having the thought. Maybe he could take a different tack. “I also met a woman there who told me ‘no’.”
Stephen’s gaze returned to his. “What? Really?” He glanced toward the door. “Who is she? Where is she? I want to meet her. You did bring her with you, right?”
“Didn’t you just hear me?” Braeden shook his head. “She turned me down. So no, she is not here.”
Stephen’s shoulders fell and he coughed again. “I’m sorry, Braeden. I just assumed if she turned you down, you charmed her into changing her mind. See what happens when you leave your little world? You might actually meet someone who isn’t just interested in your strength. You need a wife.”
Braeden plopped himself into the chair again. “Please. You’ve had enough children for the both of us. It was bad enough when Kat and I walked—”
“Kat? Did you say Kat?”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “I got Kat to explain the 1790s to me by taking me through the festival.”
“Sweet, hardworking, never-leaves-her-inn Katrina Van Tassel?” Stephen’s disbelief bothered Braeden.
“I don’t know about sweet and not leaving the inn because it was obvious I irritated the hell out of her, and I had to bargain with her and do chores just to get her to go with me.”
Stephen shook his head. “Now that is far stranger than the village disappearing. Is she the one who turned you down?”
“Yeah.” He expected his brother to laugh, but when he didn’t, he looked up. Stephen’s disappointment was obvious. “What is it?”
“Nothing. Just thought maybe you’d find someone. Any chance you could ride for me again next year? I’m thinking I want to spend as much time with Marilyn and the kids as I can. The doctors gave me a second chance, and I’m not going to blow it.”
Braeden tensed. It wasn’t money that made Stephen work too much. It was his need to do well. If he couldn’t do something well, he worked at it until he could. “Let me think about it. Okay?”
Stephen nodded, his eyelids drooping.
Braden stood and placed his hand on his brother’s arm. “Thanks for the information. I’m sorry I tired you out.”
Stephen opened his mouth as his head started to shake.
“No. Don’t say it. I did. Just rest and get better. Those four kids need their dad as soon as possible.”
At Stephen’s halfhearted grin, Braeden squeezed his arm. “Love you, bro.” He walked to the door, the feeling of having messed up again sitting as solid as a fifty-pound weight in his stomach. He looked back at Stephen to find him already sleeping. Yeah, he’d tired out his brother for his own selfish reasons. He should have stayed home.
Striding through the living room, he paused to watch two of the boys hanging blankets over a clothesline strung around three trees. He grinned. It was good to see some things didn’t change. He opened the front door.
“Braeden. Aren’t you going to stay for supper?”
He turned toward Marilyn as she dried her hands with a dishcloth. She and Stephen were as in love today as they had been the night they met, the best night of her life, as she always said. Stephen was in good hands. “No, I have to go, but thank you anyway.”
“He loves having you visit. He talks about it for days afterward. Could you at least say hello to the boys? With Stephen recovering, they aren’t getting much male attention.”
“Sure.” He nodded once and exited the house. Making his way across the front lawn, he smiled at the misshaped tent being built. He and Stephen had made some pretty strange forts in their day. “Hey, guys, what are you doing here?”
Two heads popped out of an opening. “Uncle Braeden!” In no time Michael and his brother Julian had scrambled out and were pulling him toward their pride and joy.
“You have to come inside, Uncle Braeden. Julian made shelves out of rocks.”
�
�Really? Now that is creative. Have you set up a table yet? An upside-down box works pretty well.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “That won’t last if it rains. I’m going to use the old rabbit cage and put a piece of wood on it.”
Braeden didn’t have the heart to tell the boy that if it rained, the entire fort would be obliterated. That was the joy of innocence.
“Can you help us get this last rope tied up on that tree?”
Braden smiled. “Sure.” He stepped around the back of the tent and took the rope Michael handed him. It was so light it felt as if it would break at any moment. Carefully, he lifted it toward the tree. “Is this where you want it?”
Michael pointed. “No, a little higher.”
He really didn’t want to ruin the boys’ fort, but the rope felt as if it would snap. He moved it up just a few inches and gingerly tied it around the tree. When he stepped back, the rope remained and he wiped the sweat from his brow. It was hard holding back his strength.
He crouched down to the boys’ level. “Listen, you two. You be good for Mom while Daddy is recovering and next time I come, we’ll play checkers, okay?”
Dual squeals of “yes” and high-fives put the boys back to working on their tent and Braeden rose. He wished he could spend more time with his nephews, but even giving a high-five that wouldn’t knock them over was a strain. Maybe when they were older, bigger, he could visit more often. Maybe, but in his heart he doubted it.
Chapter Five
They had all gone mad. That was the only explanation Kat could conjure for the wild accusations flying about the town square, though to be fair it was more of a circle. Maybe she was joining them in their insanity if she could stand at the center of the circle and calmly allow them all to talk to her at once.
Except they weren’t actually talking to her. Janna and Ria were arguing with each other about Braeden, and she blushed as she focused on their conversation, his prowess in bed being the current topic. Jurgen gestured and spoke loudly about their way of life to the other three men who used to ride with Brom. Ludo had the three Aldershoe sisters enthralled with his description of Braeden. The elderly ladies were too frail to participate in festival and so missed seeing him. Max talked excitedly to Liesbeth and from his gestures, she doubted it had anything to do with Brom’s descendant. Even her own parents were talking with another family since they didn’t come to festival as usual, the farm taking all her papa’s time. The only one who wasn’t vocal was Dame Vandend, Max’s grandmama, who sat comfortably on a bale of hay in her usual black dress.
Kat caught the old woman’s gaze. She gave Kat a toothless smile. Why wasn’t she as excited as everyone else?
It appeared Kat could stand at the center, the place of speaking, all day and let her neighbors exhaust themselves, but that wouldn’t be healthy for the Aldershoe sisters and she still had a lot of chores to do.
Taking a deep breath, she yelled with everything she had. “Silence!”
The talking ceased. “That’s better. Now I suggest you listen to what I have to say because I will only say this once and then I am going home.”
She glanced around the circle of forty-six people. They all remained quiet. “Good. There’s no reason for concern. First, the man you saw who resembles Brom is a descendant of Brom’s. His name is Braeden Van Brunt and he is Stephen’s brother.” She paused as people relaxed at the mention of Stephen. Good.
“Second, he came to the Sleepy Hollow Inn for a room at which point I refused, but when I learned he had no place to stay and was here to ride as the Headless Horseman, I allowed him a room for the night.”
She ignored the twittering her comment stirred. “As for me walking the festival with him, it was because he asked and promised to do chores afterward that I agreed.”
“Does that mean he’ll be back next year?” Ludo spoke from behind her, so she turned to face him.
“I don’t think so. He was reluctant to play the Headless Horseman, and we all know how much Stephen loves to ride, so I’m sure he’ll insist on returning. From what I understand, Stephen was not well, but he is expected to be better in time for the next festival.”
“Won’t this Braeden come back to see you?”
Kat glared at Jurgen for asking such a question. “I very much doubt that. I turned him down.” The gasp in the crowd issued from all the women except the Aldershoe sisters. “And I think many of you noticed, he can easily find someone else.” Kat swallowed hard at the sting in her chest at that fact.
“He’s welcome to have me!” Janna yelled.
“No, he can have me.” Ria sashayed forward, her hands on her hips.
Jurgen couldn’t let their silly remarks pass. “No one can have him. A Newtimer and an Oldtimer cannot join. It will bring bad luck. It may even raise the Hessian from his grave again. No one is allowed to join with a Newtimer.”
Nora Addens, a widow with two almost grown girls pointed her finger at Jurgen. “There is no rule about that.”
“There should be.”
Arguing broke out amongst the villagers and chaos ensued once more. Kat threw her hands up and walked to the edge of the circle. Dame Vandend grabbed her arm as she passed.
Kat looked down at the old woman, who shook her head. “This portends change, meisje.”
“Good or bad?”
The woman shrugged.
Kat nodded to show she understood and Dame Vandend let her go. She was halfway to her inn when she turned back to look at the old woman. She’d called her meisje, maiden. Why? She wasn’t exactly a maiden anymore, but then again no one knew that.
The arguing continued in the town circle. Did she want to face that melee again to find out what the woman meant? No, she had chores to do.
* * * * *
Newtime—May
Braeden cut the skirt at the waist, too impatient to undress Kat. She stood next to the bed as he knelt on the floor and worked around her with the scissors, careful not to cut too close to her skin. When he was done, he ran his hands up her thighs, the soft flesh quivering at his touch.
He wanted her so bad he could taste it. Ah, taste. He nudged her legs apart. “Hold on to the post.”
With her back to him, he cupped her perfectly rounded ass cheeks and kneaded them. So full, perfect for his large hands. Gently, he moved his fingers closer to her pussy. Touching her labia, he spread her. She was pink and blurry. He tried to focus again. Who needed to see when he could taste? He moved forward and used his tongue to lap at the opening revealed by his fingers, but he tasted nothing.
Surely she was wet for him. She had moaned. He needed to taste her like a bear needed honey. Lapping again with his tongue, he pushed it into her, forcing her to open for him. He mimicked what he would do with his cock.
She moaned again. Yes, Kat. I want you to come for me. Just for me. His tongue worked hard. There was no taste to her. He needed to make her come like she had for him before. He left her pussy and moved between her and the bed, facing her mons, her hands still grasping the post.
Reaching between her legs, he slid two fingers in as far as they would go.
She undulated her hips to fit his digits to her body. Keeping his hand still, he licked his way to her pretty pink clit and gave it a slow lap. Her small body shuddered and she tightened around his fingers. “Do you like that?”
He spoke against her clit and her response was no more than a whimper. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” He lapped up her clit again and then down it. Her legs trembled. He wrapped his arm around to her ass and held her steady as he circled her clit again. It was so hard. He flicked his tongue at it and he was rewarded with another moan as his fingers were sucked harder.
She was so close. Soon he could taste her. With a new pace, he flicked her clit and moved his fingers out and in deeply. Her tightening walls told him all he needed to know. Continuing the steady rhythm, he sucked her clit into his mouth while his tongue pressed against it.
“Braeden!”
He
r yell was punctuated by a jerk of her hips as she came. He held on to her nub as his fingers pushed in and out again, until he found himself holding her upright. With anticipation, he removed his fingers and put them in his mouth.
Nothing.
Braeden woke, his cock hard, his frustration mounting. “What the hell?” He glanced at the clock. It was midnight again. Always at midnight. It was time to start staying up later. He couldn’t take much more of the sex dreams.
He threw the crumpled sheet to the side and rose. He was tired of the hand jobs, the frustration and the titillating dreams. He wanted Kat and he wanted her now. Every night another dream, sometimes a different one, sometimes a repeat, but always the same. He couldn’t taste her, smell her or even see her clearly. All he could do was touch and be touched. He had to find her.
Striding to the bathroom, he turned on the shower. Enough was enough. He’d tried to ignore the need to see her, the strange sensation that he missed her. It couldn’t be. They’d only known each other a day.
Stepping into the warm water, he reached for the hot knob to turn it down. Maybe a cold shower would help. He’d rather Kat was in the shower with him. Ignoring the cold water idea, he grabbed the body wash instead. Would she want to be washed or wash him?
While his past sexual experience with the women he fucked was vast, his relationship experience was minimal. Ever since he’d discovered his first high school girlfriend, Elaina Frederickson, had only wanted his body, he’d closed himself off to real relationships and taken what was offered. Offered being the key.
Soaping his hand, Braeden stroked his cock. But Kat hadn’t offered. Was he just preoccupied with Kat because she’d refused him, even pushed him away multiple times? Was it that he was instinctually careful with her? For some reason, he didn’t have to think about being gentle, it just happened, which made it so easy to be with her. Or was it simply the thrill of the hunt?
He swallowed as his hand increased its pace. The warm water relaxed the muscles in his back, even as his balls tightened. He was a damn virgin at hunting and he’d obviously screwed up because he’d come home with nothing, nothing but a craving that wouldn’t be quenched.