Rendezvous With Yesterday (The Gifted Ones #2)(115)

One ring. Two. Three. Four.

“You have reached the Bennett residence…” An answering machine played Josh’s recorded invitation to leave a message at the tone.

Tears filled her eyes.

An annoying beep sounded.

When Beth drew in a breath to speak, it caught on a sob. She hadn’t realized what hearing Josh’s voice again would do to her. Even in a damned answering machine message. She had thought she would never hear him again. And, to her dismay, she found she couldn’t speak as she burst into tears.

Robert’s brow furrowed. His eyes clouding with concern, he touched her arm. “Does it not work?”

Helplessly, she thrust the phone toward him.





Robert took the cell phone. “What do I do?”

Beth motioned for him to put the phone to his ear.

“I hold it to my ear?” He would much rather drop it and take her in his arms. He had never seen her so undone.



“Hello?” a voice suddenly spoke in his ear.

“By the saints!” Robert exclaimed, gaping at Beth. “’Tis a voice! I hear a voice!”

That voice proceeded to speak unintelligibly.

Robert looked to Beth. “I cannot understand him.” What was it Beth kept calling Robert’s language? Middle English?

Attempting to mimic Beth’s odd accent, Robert said slowly and deliberately, “Speak Middle English.”

A pause ensued. “What?”

“Speak Middle English, please.”

Another pause. “Seriously?”

Robert smiled. That had been another of the modern terms he had swiftly learned from Beth. “Aye.”

“Who is this?” the man demanded, altering his speech to suit Robert.

“I am Lord Robert, Earl of Fosterly. I seek Josh of Houston, brother of Bethany. Are you he?”

“Yes. Aye, this is Josh.” He seemed a little less comfortable with the language than Beth. “Who did you say this was?”

“I am Robert, Earl of Fosterly.”

“Robert, where are you calling from?”

“I believe ’tis the clearing in which you and Beth fell.” Beth nodded, wiping her streaming eyes. “Aye, ’tis the clearing in which you fell.”

“The clearing where she was shot?”

“Aye.”

“How did you get that phone?”

“Beth gave it to me.”

“Beth gave it to you?”

“Aye. ’Tis a most miraculous creation.”

“What? When did she give it to you?”

“A moment ago, ere you greeted me.”

“Are you saying she’s there with you now?”

“Aye.”

“Let me speak with her.”

“As you will.” Robert held the phone out to Beth. “He wishes to speak with you.”

Beth took the phone from his and raised it to her ear. “J-Josh?” she managed to choke out in a broken whisper. She listened for a moments, then closed her eyes, her sobs increasing.

Patting her shoulder, Robert took the phone again. “Josh of Houston?”

“Put her back on,” Josh gritted.

“She is weeping too hard to speak.”

“Why? What have you done to her?”

“Naught you are imagining. In truth I believe ’tis joy that makes her weep so. She has been fair worried about you, Josh of Houston. Knowing you survived and hearing your voice has lifted a great burden from her heart.” Robert chuckled when she nodded. “Aye. She is indicating I am correct. ’Tis a fair day all around. I do not always read her so well.”



“Look, unless… put her back… phone and… talk to me, I…no way of knowing… Beth or some woman… reward.”

Robert frowned as the man’s voice faded in an out. He lowered the phone, looked at it, then returned it to his ear. “Josh of Houston?”

No answer came.

He frowned and met his wife’s tear-filled gaze. “I cannot hear him, Beth. He no longer speaks to me.”





Chapter Nineteen



Still trying to catch her breath, Beth grabbed the cell phone from him, put it to her ear, then stared down at it with dismay.

The damned battery had died. What the hell? She had just charged it!

Frustrated with the device and furious with herself over not being able to control her emotions better, she emitted a half-groan half-growl disrupted by a hiccup.

“Beth?” Concern painting his handsome face, Robert sheathed his sword, took her by the shoulders and drew her close. “Easy, love,” he murmured. “Take deep breaths and think of naught save my arms around you.”

Beth leaned into him and closed her eyes.

Cupping the nape of her neck with one hand, Robert slid the other up and down her back in soothing strokes that loosened the tension she hadn’t even realized tightened every muscle. “All will be well,” he murmured. “I vow it. All will be well, sweetling. You shall see.”

A jagged sigh escaped her as she burrowed her face into his chest.

Robert continued to murmur and make soft shushing sounds until her sobs abated and her breathing quieted.

“That strength you admire so m-much seems to have deserted me,” she muttered mournfully. How could she have fallen apart like that? At just the sound of her brother’s voice?