by Diane Story
“I haven’t paid much attention, Rowen. I’m more concerned with getting through all of this before we get to go home. I have been trying to work out a purchase on a small antiques shop down on the pier; being away for a week isn’t going to help. I’m not the only one interested.” She let her fingers curl around his when he placed his hand over hers, preventing her fingers from moving. “What about you? I guess you’ll just go back to your normal life as the son of a trillionaire, hmm?”
“I didn’t know there was such a thing as a trillionaire, Fern.” Rowen chuckled at her perception of his wealth. “Don’t be fantasizing about my wealth, I’m not quite that wealthy. I have business to attend to as usual when I return. My secretary thinks I’m off playing in Barbados, she’ll wonder why I’m not tanned when I return.”
Fern reluctantly raised her cheek when the horse had to step over a pile of rocks and she was just preparing to take hold of his sides again when Rowen stopped the horse. Her eyes could barely see over his broad shoulder, but it was good enough for her to see the group of men standing in the trail, preventing them from moving. Fern gasped then ducked her head when she saw the pistols in their hands, pointed at Rowen’s chest. She had removed her Vizard from her face for the trip and she feared they would see her. Closing her eyes, she listened to them make their demands.
“Get off of thy horse, stranger, and surrender to us the woman named Mary Wilds.”
Rowen leaned his head back and whispered down to Fern. “I’ll have to make a run for it if they insist, Fern. Make yourself ready.”
Fern held on as tight as she could. Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, she waited and prayed they wouldn’t have to run. She was just getting used to the slow pace of the horse and her fear of him was finally manageable.
Rowen gripped the reins in his hand then prepared himself for the inevitable. “I do not have Mary Wilds with me, you are mistaken. Mary Wilds is in her cell at Salem Village. Go on your way and leave us to continue our journey.” Rowen sent up a silent prayer that his weak effort of their dialect was believable. He could tell by their faces that it didn’t work. He took another handful of the horse’s mane when the big one in the front came forward.
“Mary Wilds escaped from her cell this morning. She sits behind ye on thy horse. Surrender her, or our worship Judge Hauthorn will have ye hung by her side on the gallows outside our village.”
Rowen quickly scanned the forest around them for the thickest place to make their escape. If they were lucky the bullets would miss. “Get ready, Fern,” he whispered down to her again and felt her fingers dig into his sides. The leader was just about to reach for Fern when he dug his heels into the sides of the horse. The last thing Rowen saw was the whites of the man’s eyes when the horse reared up with a loud whinny and bolted toward the trees of the thicket he’d chosen for their escape.
Fern gripped Rowen’s sides so tightly, she thought for sure she was ripping his flesh with her nails, but he didn’t flinch, not even once. With her eyes still squeezed closed, she listened to the pops of the pistols and swore under her breath when she thought one of the balls had whistled by her ear. Rowen spurred the horse until it was running at full speed through the thick trees. When he ducked a few times she heard the swooshing of tree limbs over their heads. By the time they stopped they were several miles from the angry men, or at least it seemed that way to Fern.
“Are you alright, Fern?” Rowen asked from in front of her.
“I… I think so,” Fern stammered through shaking lips as she let her eyes focus on the forest around them. “It felt like a few of those bullets got pretty close.” She was beginning to realize they were in the middle of an eerie, dark forest. Even darker than the one the cottage was hidden in. “Where are we, Rowen?”
“I don’t know! All I know is that I had to get you away from those men before they pulled you from the horse. When I’m sure they didn’t follow us, I’ll turn around and try to find a way back.” He cursed when his head slumped again. The ball had barely grazed him, but it hurt like hell. He didn’t want Fern to worry so he spurred the horse on.
“Where do you think Mary is, Rowen? They said she’d escaped.” As the reality of what the men said settled in, Fern smiled and threw her arms around Rowen’s waist, squeezing him as hard as she could. “Do you realize what this means, Rowen? We can go home. Mary has escaped, there won’t be a curse now.” Laying her head against his strong back, Fern laughed. “We can go home, thank God. We’ll wait until dark, then…”
“Fern, can you let up a little, love?” Rowen bit his lip in pain. There shouldn’t be this much pain for a small graze.
Fern frowned and sat back before she let her hands fall away to rest on her thighs. “What’s going on, Rowen? Are you OK?” It was as she was placing her hand on his back that she saw the blood. Her hand was covered as well as his coat where she’d touched it. “Oh my God, Rowen, you’ve been hit.” Forgetting her fear of the horse, she slid off its back then turned to help Rowen put his foot in the stirrup. She noticed instantly the clammy white of his naturally dark skin. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been hurt? I’ll have to get you to a doctor right away, Rowen.”
Rowen’s feet hit the ground beside her a little too hard for his taste. It felt like the fire in his side was beginning to spread. “The damn ball must be deeper than I thought. You know as well as I do that we can’t go to the village now, Fern. You’ll have to get me back to the cottage where you can dig it out.”
Fern was sure her face must have turned two shades whiter than his. “I can’t dig the bullet out, Rowen. I’ll only hurt you even worse, if I don’t pass out first. I’ll get you back to the cottage then go for help, I promise I won’t go to the village.” She didn’t know where or how she would get help but she knew she would, she had to. “I’ll ride in front and you sit behind me and hold on, Rowen.”
“I know you’re afraid of the horse, Fern. Do you even know how to use the reins?” Rowen would have laughed at the sardonic look on her face if he weren’t in so much pain.
“I know enough to get you back. My fear for your safety is more than my fear of the horse at the moment, Rowen. Come on, let me help you up.” After struggling to help him back up then stuffing the skirts of her dress underneath her belt, she managed to slide her leg across the front of him to rest in the saddle. Whispering a silent prayer, she picked up the reins and kicked the horse to get him moving. When the horse lunged forward she thought her heart would pound right through her chest.
“Gentle, Fern, he is a well trained animal, no need to kick so hard. A little pressure with your knees will get him going.”
Fern felt Rowen’s breath brush against her neck and realized he’d laid his head down on her shoulder as the full impact of his weight became her own. She couldn’t look into his eyes but she knew he was becoming weaker with each passing minute. “Hold on, Rowen, stay with me. I’m going to find some help for you. I promise.”
Fern rode blindly at first because she didn’t know where to go. Rowen was quiet except for his groans from time to time when the horse would move too harshly from one side to the other. Silently she prayed for help as she began to feel more lost with each step of the horse’s hooves.
The voice came softly at first, so faint she thought she might be hearing things. The forest was quiet except for the loud screech of a bird from time to time, and the heavy breathing from Rowen where he now slumped unconscious against her back. So when the voice became louder, she brought the horse to a sudden halt. She looked around slowly, but there was nobody there. When it started again she closed her eyes tight and listened, amazed that she felt no fear.
“Fern, we evoke thee to come to us. Allow your steed to follow the scent of the magnolia to the place hidden in the rocks. The sisterhood awaits thee and your man. We can heal him.”
“I’m coming, please help me to know the way.” Fern kicked the horse this time; she wanted him to run. “Run, horse, and follow the scent of the magnolia
. Run, I tell you, run. If Rowen dies, I’ll kill you, I swear it.” As if the horse knew what she were saying he ran, faster and faster with each stride. With his body stretched out underneath her, Fern let go of the reins and let her body lie forward. With Rowen’s now lifeless body sagging against her, she held his arms tight around her abdomen. “I’ll hold you, just stay alive. Please Rowen, I need you, stay alive for me, for us.” Her tears mingled with the coarse hair of the horse’s mane as they flew across the countryside toward the sisters of the sisterhood.
* * * *
Rowen’s head was pounding, but the pain in his side was gone. Sitting up, he let his eyes focus on the small room where he’d been recovering for the last two days. The floor was made of dirt but the room was neat and tidy. There were medical supplies on a small table nearby and a candle was lit, illuminating the stone walls in a gothic, medieval sort of way. He was still naked except for the blanket that lay over his groin in case one of the women he’d seen in his dreams happened to make an appearance.
Fern had been mixed in with those faces from time to time. Her soothing voice was sometimes all that kept him alive. He wondered where she was now. Scanning the room, he looked for his trousers but they weren’t there. He was in the process of wrapping the blanket around his groin in a makeshift loincloth when Fern opened the door and stood staring at him. A half smile played across her lips.
Then Fern let loose with laughter until her stomached ached. “Rowen, what are you doing? Lie back down; you’re not completely well yet. Abigail said it would be another day or two before you could get up.”
Rowen watched Fern walk from the door to stand in front of him. She was exquisite, breathtaking. Her red hair fell in tiny ringlets all over her shoulders then down her back. She had changed her dress and wore what he could only describe as a shepherdess dress. It fell off her shoulders to expose the tops of her voluptuous breasts then pulled her waist in tight with several thin interwoven laces that tied in the back. The flowered material was made out of what looked like silk, but he wasn’t even sure if they had silk in this century. A ring of magnolias made a circle around the crown of her head. Their scent made him feel a little lightheaded. Grasping her by the tops of her lily-white arms, he stared down into her eyes. “Where did you get these clothes, Fern? Where are we?”
“We are with the sisterhood, Rowen. Abigail has mended your wound. They have been very kind and we should be thankful to them for helping us. You would have died if it weren’t for their help.” Pushing him gently with her hand, she forced him to sit back down on the small bed. “Now, lay back down and rest, I’ll go get you some food.”
Rowen didn’t think he knew this woman. His mouth tingled from the haughty kiss she planted on his lips before leaving the room. She looked as if she belonged here; even the scent of her skin had changed. He was still sitting on the edge of the bed contemplating their predicament when she returned. He watched as she sat food and wine on the little table before joining him on the bed. “How long have we been here, Fern? How many days?”
“Two days. You were very sick, you know.” Fern smiled when he stood up in front of her, she continued smiling as he pulled her up with him.
He stood naked in front of her, not caring who saw him. “Damn it, Fern, we don’t have time to be sitting idle in this place. You know we are running out of time. How am I to save you if I lay in this bed all day? You should have taken us to the cottage and doctored me yourself.”
“Now, now. Just lie back down and rest, Rowen. Mary is safe and sound with Jonathan. We have nothing to fear anymore. Abigail told me that she is going to get you well enough to send you back through the wardrobe tonight. Won’t it be wonderful to go home?”
“Where are my clothes, Fern? I’m leaving.” He looked at her closer then. The person he was looking at was beautiful, just like Fern. But somehow it felt like her spirit was missing. “With or without you, understand! Elizabeth has gotten to you, hasn’t she, Fern? She’s stolen your spirit, oh God, I’ll kill the witch for hurting you. I swear it!” He managed to pull his eyes away from her long enough to scan the room for his clothes again. When her soft hand circled his and urged him back down beside her, he couldn’t refuse; she pulled him into her spell.
“Elizabeth isn’t here, Rowen, the sisters have cast her out completely now because of her wicked ways. You have nothing to fear, trust me.” Her eyes held him captive. “Please hold me, can’t you see I hunger for your kiss?” He would not refuse her.
The kiss was soft, yet hard, gentle, yet forced. Her hands were exploring his body with unbridled liberties as if she owned him. As if she knew what she was doing and had done it a hundred times over. He couldn’t get enough of her scent; it was heady, almost like a narcotic. When they finally pulled apart, he took several deep breaths to calm himself. His loin pulsed with need. He could easily take her right there without thinking twice about it.
“Rowen Nichols?” The voice called to him from the doorway. “Our sister Fern is not ready for what ye desire of her.”
Rowen slid away from Fern and grabbed the blanket to cover himself. “Who are you?” His eyes stared at the woman between angry slits.
“I am sister Abigail. Look at Fern, Rowen. Surely you have noticed she isn’t herself?” Abigail nodded her head toward Fern.
Rowen sat staring in disbelief when Fern’s head fell to her chest. The woman put her under a spell right before his eyes. “Fern, look at me, love.” She almost fell over when he gently shook her shoulder. Angry, he jumped to his feet, reaching the woman in one deadly stride. “Tell me who you are, woman, or I swear I won’t be responsible for what I do.” The woman’s beauty didn’t go unnoticed. “Why are you keeping us here?”
“Ye are free to leave anytime ye want, Rowen Nichols. It is Fern that cannot leave here. Our sister Mary is safe now so there is no reason for ye to stay. Fern has to stay here with us, she is of our blood, can’t ye see that?” Abigail knew this was going to be hard for him to understand. They were in love; it was a problem she wished to avoid. Shrugging, she dismissed it as an obstacle the sisters would overcome.
“No way, lady! Fern will come with me. We’ll both go back through the wardrobe together. She belongs back home with me, I won’t leave here without her, understand!” Rowen fought an impulse to wrap his hand around her pale throat and give her a reason to believe him. But somehow he knew she wasn’t evil like Elizabeth and that she didn’t intend to hurt Fern. Standing close with clenched fists, he looked down into her eyes, Fern’s eyes. “Get my clothes now, I taking Fern and we’re leaving.”
“I cannot, someday ye will understand the importance of the woman ye love. She must stay here. She must take Mary’s place in the village and be hung in front of the villagers, but most importantly, Elizabeth Wilds.”
“But you just said Mary had escaped with Jonathan, so why do we have to go on with this? It doesn’t make sense.” She wasn’t going to give in. Damn it, he would have to take Fern, by force if necessary. “Where are my clothes, Abigail, I’ll be leaving now.” He watched her disappear and then return with his clothes. “Leave me alone while I dress please.”
“Come, sister Fern, Rowen needs to clothe himself.” Abigail nodded toward Fern, waking her from her daze.
“No!” Rowen took a deep breath then calmed his voice; he didn’t want to cause suspicion. “Please, I want to tell her goodbye in private.”
Abigail looked at him from underneath her lashes. He was a hard man to read. “Alright, Rowen Nichols. But mind ye, do not attempt to take her from here. The sisters would be very angry, very angry indeed.”
Rowen turned around to look at Fern. She was still under the spell and he thought she looked pitiful the way she sat smiling like a child with her hands folded in her lap. After dressing himself quickly he sat down beside her to button the hooks of his shoes. When he was done he took her hand and pulled her with him toward the door. Her feet dragged behind her, and she was placid. “Keep as quiet as you can
, Fern. If I’m to get us out of here, we’ll have to be fast.”
“Why, Rowen? I don’t want to leave here. The sisters love me and want me to stay. I want to stay. Please, let’s just go back to the bed and lie down.” She rubbed the back of her hand over his rough jaw. “We can hold each other, and maybe I’ll let you kiss me.” She smiled shyly.
Rowen thought she looked like an angel, all softness and innocence. “Love, I promise I’ll figure out a way to wake you up. And when you do wake up from this crazy spell, I’ll take you up on the offer. Just come with me now, I promise you’ll be alright.”
“But Abigail said I had to stay. Oh Rowen, I don’t know what to do.” Fern felt as if she was being squeezed in a vise of indecision. Her heart told her to go with Rowen but her mind told her to stay. She would follow her heart and go with Rowen. She didn’t know if it was the right thing to do, but it was what she really, really wanted to do. “I’ll go with you, Rowen, I’ll go anywhere you want to take me.”
Rowen pulled her up tight against his chest and kissed her. A deep penetrating kiss to show her she’d made the right choice. She was still sedated, but it seemed as if the kiss woke her up a little more. “Let’s go then, we’ll go back to the wardrobe then home. I want you to stay there with me when we get back, Fern.”
“You do? Why?” Fern ducked close to his back and followed him from the room. He had her hand placed firmly in his as they made their way through stone hallway after stone hallway. It seemed nobody was around. Her mind was reeling, why would Rowen want her to stay with him? He didn’t love her, maybe he felt obliged, considering what they had been through together, maybe he just wanted to coddle her for a while before dropping her for one of his beautiful women friends. God, she needed her head to clear, the fog of the sisters was bearing down hard again, screaming, pulling her to go back. Stay, they were yelling. Stay, sister Fern, you belong, stay.