A Knight in Central Park(93)

They did finally set off while the sun still shone, and they continued to ride straight through even after the sun had set to the west.

Joe and Alexandra rode together upon Precious, while the mule and Alexandra’s horse were tied to the back and followed behind. Alexandra slept, leaning back against Joe’s chest as he kept himself awake by replaying the scene with King Henry. To think he had been dubbed a Knight. It was too much to comprehend. Never mind that he had survived adventures far beyond his imagination, he had met King Henry VII and was being credited for saving his life. Disbelief made him shake his head once more.

Joseph McFarland of Manhattan, also known as the Black Knight, stops history from changing. Mind boggling.

As the sun rose, Garrett appeared ready to fall asleep. His head would loll to the side, and then he would jerk upright, eyes wide as if he’d just awoken from a good long nap.

At the front of the line was Sebastiano. Joe asked him to hold up for a moment as he clicked his tongue and caught up to him. Precious was now accustomed to Joe’s riding habits. The animal had grown stronger and healthier with all the exercise and fresh air over the past weeks.

“We need to head north toward the inn where Susan and Rebecca are staying,” Joe told Sebastiano.

Alexandra looked up at him with sleepy, curious eyes.

“Good morning,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I was just telling Sebastiano that we needed to head toward the inn.”

“But there is no need,” she replied. “Sebastiano has agreed to escort my sisters home so as not to delay us further.”

Joe shook his head. “We’ll all go together.”

Eager to see Susan again, Sebastiano dug his heels into the horse’s flanks.

Garrett merely shrugged and did the same.

Alexandra looked at Joe, perplexed by his decision.

He shrugged. “I promised Susan I would come back for her and you know how I hate to break a promise.”

After a moment, Alexandra said thoughtfully, “I wonder what your father will think of your new title upon your return?”

He raked a hand through his hair. “That’s the second time you have talked of my returning.”

She shrugged, obviously baffled by his comment.

“Go ahead,” Joe said, “and say whatever it is that’s bugging you Alexandra. Get it all out until there’s nothing left unsaid.”

She straightened. “All right, I will.” She glanced ahead at her brother and saw that he and Sebastiano were waiting for them. “Move on you two,” she called. “We will catch up to you shortly.” She then turned her attention back to Joe. “Before I speak my mind, I shall like to find a private place to freshen myself.”

“I could use a good stretch,” he said as he reined Precious toward a patch of greenery. Joe dismounted, his legs stiff, his shoulder sore as he helped her down. He watched her head for the tall shrubs, admired the soft sway of her hips as she went. He had no clue what she might say to him when she returned, but he knew she needed to have her say.





By the time Alexandra returned to where Sir Joe waited for her, she felt sick to her stomach. Sure that her sickness stemmed from eating too much, she decided not to say as much to Sir Joe. Mary had insisted she eat, saying she looked too thin. Alexandra was not used to having Mary act as her mother for it had always been the other way around with the two of them. But Alexandra had to admit she enjoyed her sister’s pampering. And to please Mary, she had eaten every last bite on her plate.

Her sister would not be happy to know that every last morsel was now beneath the shrubs. The morning sun felt good on her face and shoulders as she headed toward Sir Joe, noticing at once how the light reflected off of his broadsword, making him appear...unreal. As if he was a figment of her imagination.

His hair was long, and despite his taking a blade to his jaw, the stubble was already a dark shadow upon his handsome face. There was no denying he had been in fine shape when they first met. But now, as he leaned against the oak, his shoulders broad, his hair long, his eyes watching her without censure, she saw so much more than an intelligent man with a penchant for cleanliness. She saw Sir Joe McFarland, her very own Knight, the man she loved.

He handed her a tin cup filled with water. She emptied the cup in a few long gulps, but refused the chunk of cheese and wheat bread he offered next. “I am still full from the fine feast of yesterday. There was more food on my plate than I have eaten all year.”