Champion

by Marie Higgins

  He glanced down at his clothes. “Indeed. Payton gave these to me. Well, except she gave me some tougher leggings to wear, but they didn’t feel comfortable.” He met her gaze again. “I hope that is satisfactory.”

  Mary lifted an eyebrow, critically. “Actually, if you’re going to wear those pants—

  Pants?” he cut in. “What are pants?

  The leggings.”

  He nodded. “Continue.

  If you are going to wear those pants with your knee-boots, I suggest wearing a shirt like the one you had on yesterday. If you’d like, I could find you one really fast.”

  He shrugged. “That is permissible.”

  She turned some knobs on the strange looking fireplace, and went downstairs. He walked to the odd steel plate where the pans of food were sitting and peered inside. One was eggs, mixed with chopped vegetables, and the other was those round tasty cakes Payton had given him yesterday. Once more, his stomach grumbled with anticipation.

  A noise on the floor in the hallway made him jump, and his gaze flew to the doorway. Payton walked in, looking so very pretty. Today she wore a midnight blue blouse with those coarse leggings she had wanted him to wear. When her focus fell on him, her eyes widened.

  “Good morning, Archer.

  Yes, it has been pleasant thus far.

  Uh, where is Mary?”

  He pointed to the stairs leading to the basement. “She went to fetch me a proper shirt. She didn’t think this one worked well with my leggings.”

  As Payton’s gaze slid over him, she bit her bottom lip. It almost appeared as if she was trying to hold back a grin.

  “Yes, I can see why.” She stepped closer to him. “Why aren’t you wearing the Levis I gave you?

  What is a Levi?”

  She chuckled. “They are the pant...um, leggings I left for you to wear.

  Ah, yes. Well, you see, they were very coarse against my skin. And extremely difficult to maneuver in.” He picked at the material of her leggings. “These are more comfortable.

  That’s probably why Mary went to find another shirt for you. This shirt doesn’t match your pants very well.

  Why is that?

  Because the style of your pants is historic and your shirt is modern.”

  Confusion filled his head, yet again. This was definitely one of those issues only women worried about, he was certain. “I will leave this decision in your capable hands, then.”

  She pointed to the food. “Have you eaten yet?

  No.

  Do you want me to fix you a plate?

  Well, since you do things a lot differently than I have done them in my life, I shall allow you to fix me a plate.”

  She moved past him, and her flowery scent surrounded him. Closing his eyes, he inhaled her flowery aroma, which smelled more tantalizing than the food, if that were at all possible. Payton stood very near as she reached for the plates in the cabinet above him, rising to the tips of her toes. It was all he could do to keep himself from sliding his arms around her middle and gently pulling her next to his body to share her warmth. He could tell by the slender shape of her body that she would be nice and cuddly, and she’d fit next to him quite nicely.

  He shook away the indecent thought. If he followed his instincts, he’d scare her away for certain. After pulling his sword on her right after they met, he needed to repair the trust issue.

  The clamoring of footsteps on the stairs startled him. Even Payton jumped. The movement had her bumping against him. In her hands, she held the plates, and so she teetered slightly. Immediately, he moved his arms around her waist, trying to hold her still so she wouldn’t drop the porcelain looking plates.

  Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze bounced to his—and stayed. At first, she didn’t move, and appeared content just to be up against him so personal. Her attention wandered over his face and came to rest on his lips. His mouth grew dry, and he swallowed hard.

  Mary’s voice rang through the room, breaking the brief and very sensual moment. As he released his arms, Payton quickly stepped away.

  “I have an idea,” Mary said cheerfully as she entered the room, holding not only another shirt for him, but a dress. She aimed her gaze on Payton. “There is a Renaissance Fair in town. I think you should take Archer to that.” She grinned wide and held up the gown. “And you can wear this.

  Mary,” Payton grumbled as she shook her head. “I’m not going to wear that.

  If you come in costume, they’ll take a dollar off the price of admission. Besides that, I think Archer will feel right at home in that kind of setting. Don’t you?”

  He pinned his stare on Payton. She suddenly acted as though she didn’t want to meet his eyes. She pushed past him and scooped up the food from the pans and placed them on the plates.

  “I suppose, but we were going to walk through town. I don’t dare introduce him to inside a vehicle yet.

  And why not,” he asked Payton. “Do you think I will be frightened?”

  Finally, her eyes met his and she smiled. “Actually, yes, I do. This is something like you’ve never seen before, I promise.

  Fine, then we shall walk.

  Pay,” Mary said, coming closer, “you can still go in costume. With the fair so close, I can guarantee you won’t be the only two walking around town dressed in costume.

  I don’t know...

  Now who is the one scared?” Archer cut her off, giving her a wink. “I don’t mind wearing clothes that are out of place, so why can you not do that with me?

  Is this a challenge, sir?” She pushed a lock of her lovely hair behind her ear.

  “Indeed, it is.”

  She nodded. “Then I accept.

  Splendid.” He took a plate from her and moved to sit at the table.

  As he munched away at his food, Mary and Payton carried on a conversation about some man named Phillip. Both women had drawn expressions and bitterness in their voice. He didn’t dare ask about this man, only because he didn’t quite understand the whole situation. But what he could gather, Phillip had wanted something of Mary’s, and both she and Payton were not going to give it to him.

  By now, he’d realized things in this world were vastly different from his world, and he wasn’t going to question anymore—only because he was confused enough already and he didn’t want it to get any worse. There had to be a purpose for him here, and if it was because Payton wished him here, then he’d make the best out of it as well as he could.

  After Payton finished and placed her plate and fork in what she referred to as a sink, she excused herself to go change. Mary wasn’t talkative at all after her conversation about Phillip, so she went to the sink and washed the dishes.

  “Archer,” she said, “you can change into that shirt if you want.”

  He followed her gaze, stopping on the white shirt draped over the back of a chair. “Yes, I believe I shall.” He unlatched the few buttons at his throat before lifting the garment over his head and dropping it onto the chair.

  Behind him, Mary sucked in her breath. He glanced at her over his shoulder. Her eyes were wide as her gaze skimmed over him. The smile he hadn’t seen from her since she had started talking about Phillip returned and stretched across her face. The look of interest was written on her expression.

  He tried not to laugh as he threw the other shirt over his head and fit it around his shoulders and waist. Ahhh, much better. Strange how his style of clothing fit more comfortably on him than the clothing these people wore.

  When he faced Mary again, she had turned back to the dishes.

  “Miss Mary?” he asked, standing from the table.

  She threw a look over her shoulder. “Please, just call me Mary.

  As you wish.” He pointed outside. “Is it permissible to venture outdoors?

  Go for it. I’ll let Payton know where you are.

  I thank you. I shall not wander far.” As he strode out of the double-glass door, the warm air touched his face. The blue sky was unmarked by clou
ds. Today was the perfect day for a stroll through town.

  He noticed the same bush he’d suddenly came from, so he hurried to it and studied the ground. There wasn’t anything to indicate anything out of the ordinary. So had he just suddenly been whisked from his world to this one, without even a trace of evidence?

  As unbelievable as it all seemed, the realization was that he was here. There was no use trying to make logic out of all of this.

  “Archer? Are you ready?”

  Payton’s voice came from the house, so he turned. When he caught sight of her, he literally lost his breath. She wore a deep blue, off-the-shoulder gown with long sleeves that started out tight on her upper arms, but then flared out from her elbows to wrists. Bold golden decorations briefly touched the bodice of her gown, appearing as if it blended with the thick golden belt around her waist. She’d kept her hair long and flowing over her creamy-white shoulders, tempting him to stroke her skin to see if it felt as soft as it looked. Across her head was a thin band of gold as like a headdress, with a diamond jewel slightly hanging in the middle of her forehead.

  Never had he gazed upon anything so beautiful—and he’d seen many lovely women in his life. But Payton was far lovelier. As she walked toward him, he became tongue-tied and didn’t dare speak for fear of embarrassing himself from his jumbled thoughts.

  Her smile was wide once she stood directly in front of him. “Are you ready to go?

  Uh...” He quickly snapped his mouth closed and nodded, still not ready to speak.

  Chuckling, she shook her head and turned toward the gate. “Well, let’s go to the fair.”

  At this moment, he’d happily go anywhere with her. He’d feel like the grandest man walking beside her, and he prayed she had just a little inkling of the same feelings as he.

  SIX

  Payton couldn’t stop smiling. How could she when she was with a man whose eyes nearly melted her as he gazed at her with an expression of pure interest? Archer literally looked at her as if she was a beautiful woman. That had never happened to her before, and she didn’t want to do anything right now to break the spell.

  She waited for him to point out things that confused him like vehicles, planes, or streetlights, but he seemed to watch her more than the strange objects around them. It was hard for her not to check him out as thoroughly, too. He looked more like a person from the Renaissance era than she did. However, she sure felt sexy wearing this costume. She didn’t look as good as her models did when in this gown, but came close to it.

  “How are you enjoying the outing?” she asked after several minutes of silence.

  His smile relaxed, which caused his eyes to twinkle. “It is very enjoyable being with you like this.

  Why haven’t you asked any questions about this world? I’m sure you’re curious about something.” She swept her hand, motioning to everything around them. Still, his eyes were glued on her.

  “As a matter of fact, I do have a question.

  What is it?

  What has Phillip done to vex you and Mary?”

  Taken off guard, she stumbled but quickly righted herself before stopping in front of him. She narrowed her gaze, meeting his stare. “Do you know Phillip?

  I do not know this man, however, I overheard you and Mary speaking about him as we ate this morning. I could tell by the way you spoke that he was not a very nice person.”

  She rolled her eyes, bunching her hands by her sides. “Phillip is despicable. When he was married to Mary, he treated her terribly. He was so controlling and verbally abusive. He couldn’t respect Mary’s wishes and regarded her as though she was nothing but a mat to wipe his feet on. The day they divorced was a happy day, for all involved.”

  He folded his arms. “Phillip does sound like a terrible person. If he is no longer her husband, then why is he bothering her?

  When they were married,” she began as she turned and walked toward the park where the fair was in full swing, “they lived in the house we are living in now. He told her he didn’t want the place, so he allowed her to live there. They still both own a share of it, but she is the one who makes the monthly payments.” She paused as she looked both ways up and down the street before making sure it was clear so they could walk across. “He called her yesterday and told her he wants her to move out so that he can reclaim the house.

  Why would he want to do that now?

  I wish I knew.” She shook her head. “I thought about this last night, and I think I’ve come to a conclusion.

  And what is that?

  When Mary and I started up the business, we had to make several repairs to the house. We took out loans to pay the costs of these restorations, which of course, increased the value of the house. We’re currently having a little problem with the plumbing, but nothing major. However, the house is worth a lot more than it was when Phillip lived there.

  And you think this is why Phillip wants the house back?”

  Payton shrugged. “What else can it be?

  Is he a wealthy man?

  He’s not too bad off, I suppose. He probably makes more money than Mary and I do.

  What other reason would he want to own the house?

  He’s probably miffed because he can see how well Mary is thriving without him in her life, and he doesn’t like it one bit. It’s part of his controlling vice.

  I have known men who are this controlling.” Archer nodded. “It is not a becoming feature, at all.”

  She wanted to chuckle over his choice of words, but refrained. “No, it’s not.

  I cannot understand why a man would want to own a house so large and live by himself in it.

  Mary mentioned the other day that Phillip has a girlfriend, so perhaps they are going to marry and raise a family.” Payton snorted sarcastically. “But if he does that, it’ll be a miracle.

  Which part will be the miracle? Marriage or raising a family?” Archer asked.

  “Phillip never wanted to raise a family with Mary. He told her he wasn’t ready for children.

  Ah, I see.

  What about you?” he inquired.

  “What about me?

  Do you want to marry and have children?

  Yes, some day, when I’m ready, of course.”

  He chuckled. “When does one know if they are ready or not?

  Yeah, good question. I wish I could answer that,” she joked.

  They arrived at the ticket booth, and Payton paid for hers and Archer’s admission. As she stuffed the rest of the money back into her cloth purse, she scanned the crowd. Today was the fair’s opening day, so naturally it would be busy.

  She peeked at Archer, who seemed to be scoping the crowd with a critical eye. Of course, he would soon realize that this era was close to the year he’d lived in before she’d wished him here. Already she knew things weren’t going to be one-hundred percent authentic or historical, and she figured she’d hear his comments about that. However, she needed to create a way to tell him that he was now a good eight-hundred years into the future.

  Stepping closer to Archer, she hesitantly slipped her hand around his elbow. His gaze jumped to her as his eyes widened. Quickly, she explained, “I didn’t want us to get separated. I hope you don’t mind.”

  His expression relaxed and his grin stretched. “I do not mind in the least. After all, you wished me here, did you not?

  Uh...I guess.

  Then I’m here at your request. Feel free to do anything you would like with me.” He winked.

  Her heart flipped, and she cursed her reaction for the umpteenth time. He shouldn’t have said it like that. What she’d like to do with him wasn’t logical right now. She wanted to be alone with him so that she could kiss him to oblivion. She wanted to let him hold her so tight that all of the broken pieces of her heart would be fixed. But that dream was impossible. Eventually her heart would become involved, and once that happened, she was setting herself up for disaster.

  Instead of answering him, she tightened her hold on his arm as
they slowly walked into the crowd and past some of the booths.

  There was so much to see, but she found it more interesting to watch Archer’s expressions. He appeared curious at first, and then his smile widened until he laughed and shook his head. He didn’t say anything, but she was certain he could see the hilarity in all of this. People dressed in period era costumes, and as she figured, most of the outfits were ridiculous. As a wardrobe designer, she knew what types of garments were used for each era, and most of these people were wearing costumes just to be noticed—and not in a wholesome way, either.

  It worked. They stood out like a beacon on a foggy night.

  Suddenly, Archer stopped and sucked in a breath. His stare was aimed toward a sign that announced the jousting tournament. “Jousting? Here?

  Yes, this is one of the attractions. Is this something you want to do?” she wondered.

  He shook his head. “I was never one to joust. However, if there is a tournament for archery or sword fighting, I would join those.

  Then let’s see if we can find one.” She pulled on his arm as she walked faster.

  They moved from booth to booth, asking the occupants if they knew of any archery tournament. Regretfully, they answered no. If they didn’t find one soon, she was tempted to start up her own. She wanted to see what exactly Archer could do with a bow and arrow.

  Finally, toward the edge of the park, she found a booth that sold bows and arrows. When she’d asked if they knew of an archery tournament, they told her no.

  Dejected, she faced Archer who was studying one of the bows. “Well, we tried, but failed.

  Indeed.” He lifted the bow, closely inspecting the craftsmanship. “This one might do justice, however most of these are poorly made.”

  She tapped his hand and stepped closer. “Archer,” she lowered her voice. “Keep in mind that these people do not have your skills or knowledge of this era.” She didn’t want to tell him that these people were only after making a quick buck, too. They knew their merchandise was cheap.

  One of the men working the booth strolled by them slowly. “Is there something you’re interested in?” he asked Archer.