Rendezvous With Yesterday (The Gifted Ones #2)(15)

When Beth stood with the water bottle and began to unscrew its top, she suddenly found herself encircled by four enormous men who gazed at the bottle as though it were a perfect, baseball-sized diamond. “Do you, uh, want some water?” she asked no one in particular, assuming thirst inspired their interest.

“’Tis water inside there?” Stephen asked.

Nodding, she held it up so they could read the label.

“What manner of container is that?” Michael queried.

“Is that parchment wrapped about it?” Adam followed. “Such colors!”

Beth looked down at the object in her hand, wondering what was so unusual about it. “It’s a plastic bottle full of spring water. What’s the big deal?”

When they continued to ooh and ahh over it, she raised puzzled eyes to Robert’s.

“We have never before seen the like,” he explained.

“You mean you’ve never seen this brand?” Improbable, considering one could purchase it in just about any grocery or convenience store in Texas. “Or you’ve never seen a bottle this size?”

Stephen reached out and gave the bottle a squeeze before she could stop him. It emitted a squishing noise as bubbles and large droplets of water oozed out from the base of the partially unscrewed lid. “It gives!” he cried, as excited as a child.

Then they all wanted to squeeze it.

“Hey—hey—hey!” Beth called out, backing away from them and swiveling to place her body between them and the water. When Stephen reached around to take it from her, she slapped his large, gloved hand away. “Stop that!”

“Stephen, leave her be,” Robert ordered, even though he had squeezed the bottle himself a time or two.

Only when she was sure they would all obey him did she turn back around, both hands locked protectively around the bottle. “I don’t mean to be rude or anything. I just didn’t bring that much with me. It would’ve made the pack too heavy.”

Their gazes remained fixed on the bottle.

Were they even listening to her?

“You’re more than welcome to drink some,” she offered. “But I can’t afford to let you waste any of it on the ground while you pretend you’ve never seen plastic before. I want to save some for Josh.”

“The flask is formed from plastic?” Robert asked.

Bewildered, Beth looked down at the bottle, then up at him. “Well, yeah. Aye.”

“We have none of us ever beheld plastic.”

Beth looked from one to the next, taking in their befuddled expressions and melding them with their strange garments. “Ohhh. Is this part of the whole reenactment thing?”

Robert frowned.

“It is, isn’t it?” she persisted, removing the lid from the bottle they still sought to fondle and raising it to her lips. Cool, sweet water slid across her tongue and down her throat, quenching her fierce thirst. Feeling a little better, she offered the bottle to Robert. “Would you like some?”



His hand brushed hers as he took it, sending a little tingle through her. The plastic crackled and popped as he gave the bottle several more experimental squeezes, then downed a few swallows.

The anticipation on his friends’ faces as they awaited his judgment was almost enough to convince her that this wasn’t, in reality, all a game to them. She’d had no idea these reenactment groups carried things so far. It was… pretty weird, wasn’t it?

Of course, she had heard that a few groups were quite fanatical about it, forbidding participants from carrying anything evenly remotely modern on or about their person, attempting to keep things as true to the time period as possible, allowing no modern language or inappropriate accents, even strictly abiding by the hierarchical stratum.

But she was not a part of their troupe or whatever they called it, so weren’t they taking things a bit too far? Particularly considering the circumstances?

“’Tis water,” Robert pronounced after taking another swig, “as she said.”

If she weren’t so worried, she would be amused. What had he thought it was—her secret liquor stash?



Beth returned her attention to her pack. When she tugged it up to rest it on its base, she was surprised to find her other 9mm resting beneath it, along with the pistol-grip shotgun she had last seen lying beside Josh. A large hand grabbed hers as she reached for them. Startled, she looked up into Robert’s vivid blue eyes.

“I shall keep those with the other,” he informed her as he picked them up.

Damn it!



He nodded at the smaller weapon and raised one eyebrow. “Is it safe?”

“Safe?” she asked, unsure of his meaning.

“Aye. Do you need to make it safe as you did the other?”

“Oh. No. Nay, this one doesn’t have a safety. Just don’t touch the trigger.” She really wished they would give up the Middle English already. Translating on the fly when she was rattled and distracted and worrying about Josh was not easy.

Satisfied, he tucked the weapon in his sword belt. “And this?” He indicated the shotgun, holding it out for her inspection.

Beth pushed the small round button on the side, near the trigger. “It’s safe.”

Robert looked it over briefly, then slipped the strap over his shoulder.