Forever Knight: Thornton Brothers Time Travel (A Thornton Brothers Time Travel Romance Book 2)
Authors: Cynthia Luhrs
Forever Knight
A Thornton Brothers Time Travel Romance Novel
Book 2
Cynthia Luhrs
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Forever Knight A Thornton Brothers Time Travel Romance Novel
Copyright © 2016 by Cynthia Luhrs
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to my fabulous editor, Arran at Editing720
Kentucky—Present Day
The dingy police station had seen better days. The middle-aged officer barked at Elizabeth, motioning her forward, deeper into the sterile, gray room.
“Name?”
“Elizabeth.” Seven. The number of times, counting this one, she’d been arrested. By now she’d thought the police would have sent her through some kind of express line. Or given her some kind of rewards card. Five arrests and the offender gets a t-shirt. She clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from snickering. The bored-looking man would most definitely not be amused.
The officer held up her driver’s license and peered over his glasses.
“Don’t be difficult.” He let out a long-suffering sigh and pointed to the others waiting their turn. “Full name. And speak up; it’s loud in here.”
She flinched.
Just tell him and get it over with. They could have named you Sunshine Star.
Elizabeth stood up straight, chin lifted. Her dearest friend wasn’t embarrassed about
her
name, so she wouldn’t be either.
“Rainbow Elizabeth Smith.”
The cop blinked. A grin tugged at his mouth. “Thought I had to be reading this wrong.” He peered at the license again. “Talk about a mouthful. Parents some kind of new-age hippies?”
“Something like that.”
“I’d be embarrassed too.” He took in her clothes. From her sneakers with daisies on them all the way up to her hair. His eyebrows moved independently, like caterpillars crawling across his forehead. Laughter threatened and she bit down on her lip to keep it from escaping.
The cop squinted. “The hair doesn’t help.”
Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped. “The result of way too much wine one night.” She looked behind her at Sunshine, patiently waiting her turn. “Never decide it’s a good idea to change your hair after a bad breakup, especially if there’s wine involved. It doesn’t end well.”
“You look like a demented fairy princess.”
She sighed, not bothering to reply as the next officer beckoned to her. Her hair would grow out eventually. At least she was rid of Dennis the sponge.
“Did you send the text when they arrested us?” Sunshine sat down beside her, gulping water from a paper cup.
“Yep. I had all the numbers set up so the text should have gone to my lawyer, parents, and Oliver. You?”
Her friend leaned back against the cinderblock wall. “I did, and since it was a prepaid phone, the cops won’t get any information.”
Gratitude flowed through her as Elizabeth drank the lukewarm water. The last time she’d been arrested, no one gave them water at all. “Our lawyer should be here soon.”
Sunshine grinned. “Maybe we’ll be out in time to order a pizza for dinner. Busy day at the office tomorrow.”
They both worked for a small nonprofit whose primary purpose was to ensure people had access to clean drinking water. She ran through her mental list. Was her camper okay? The vintage home was her baby. Wandering around an auction, she’d fallen in love at first sight. Got it for a steal. Then she’d had it refurbished and dragged it all over the place. From protest to protest. That was how she found herself currently locked up in a tiny town in Kentucky, waiting to be bailed out.
The coal company was going to blast on a pristine mountain, ruining the drinking water of families who relied on the cool water flowing down from the mountain to their wells. The door to the holding cell opened and an obviously drunk old woman staggered inside.
“Who are all these folk?” The woman cast a cranky look over them. “They’re hogging up all the room.”
The officer didn’t even turn around as he left. “Protestors. Now be quiet, Miss Eloise, and I’ll scrounge up some dinner for you.”
The woman shuffled over to the cot Sunshine was sitting on and pointed. Elizabeth’s friend quickly stood. “Please, sit.”
Sunshine sat down cross-legged next to Elizabeth. “Smells like she bathed in whisky.”
“My hearing’s fine, little lady.” The woman peered down at them then leaned forward and touched Elizabeth’s hair. “Good gracious, child. Your hands match your hair. The paint goes on the canvas, not in your hair.” She laughed and laughed, slapping her knee, until she was crying.
It wasn’t that funny. “I was up all night painting signs. Guess I missed a few spots on my hands.” There was paint under several nails and a vivid blue streak across Elizabeth’s wrist. On her left hand, several colors looked like a rainbow-spotted cheetah had brushed against her.
The woman belched. “Doesn’t explain the hair.”
Elizabeth self-consciously touched the ponytail. “It’s a long story.”
The woman hummed to herself. After a while she opened one light blue eye. “What’s two girlies like you doing locked up here?”
Sunshine stood and stretched. “We grew up together in California. Went to college and got jobs working for the same company. We protest companies polluting drinking water.” She paced back and forth in the cell, gesturing wildly. “I’ve been arrested ten times and Elizabeth seven.”
Sunshine looked at the woman, a speculative look on her face. Uh oh. Elizabeth knew what was coming.
“We can help you. Have you been unjustly imprisoned?”
The woman cackled, her eyes seeming to disappear into the wrinkles on her face. She slapped her knee. “Naw. Every now and again I go on a walk to talk to my ancestors. There’s times I drink a bit much and end up in town. One of the nice officers brings me here.” The woman sneezed. “I eat a hot meal and in the morning they let me go.”
She touched Elizabeth’s ponytail. “That’s my mountain the damn coal company wants to rape and pillage. So I’m obliged to you both for trying to help.” She reached in the pocket of her dress and came out with a small tin. The dress was a faded calico print, the flowers almost pastel from repeated washings over the years.
“Rock candy?” She held out the tin.
Sunshine took a piece, popping it in her mouth. “Yum. I taste lemon. And mint.”
The woman opened her mouth, showing off surprisingly white teeth, given her age. She sucked on a piece of the candy. “My secret recipe. My gran taught me to make it.”
“It’s delicious.” Elizabeth ran her tongue over the bumpy candy.
“I’ve lived in the holler up on the mountain all my life. Born and raised like my mother and hers before.” With the speed of a much younger person, she snatched Elizabeth’s hand.
“Got the gift of sight.” She ran a gnarled finger across Elizabeth’s palm, tracing the lines. “What happened here?”
Elizabeth’s wrists were bruised and raw. “From the zip ties when they arrested us. It’ll go away in time.”
The woman made a noise in the back of her throat, letting Elizabeth know what the woman thought of their treatment. Funny how a noise could convey an entire conversation.
“Now hush. Let the lines speak to me.”
Over and over, the woman ran her fingers across Elizabeth’s palms. Tracing the lines, muttering to herself. It had been a long day and Elizabeth was tired. Unable to keep her eyes open, she closed them for a moment.
When she woke, Elizabeth and the woman were the only ones left in the cell. The woman stared off into the distance, turning her head when Elizabeth coughed.
“I never seen a hand like yours afore. You will make a long journey.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What was next—meet a tall, handsome stranger?
“This world is ever-changing. Your destiny is elsewhere. Not in this place.” The woman took Elizabeth’s hands in hers, the skin soft as suede. The subtle scent of herbs filled her nose.
“But know this, child. Where you go, there is no return. Words lie. Look to the actions behind the words and you will find your way.”
Then she dropped Elizabeth’s hands, her chin rested on her chest, and she closed her eyes.
“Wait. Is that it? No handsome stranger?” But the woman was fast asleep and didn’t wake. Well, Elizabeth would have an interesting story to tell when she got home. Her stomach grumbled. If she ever got out of jail.
England—November 1333
Robert Thornton, Lord of Highworth Castle, cracked a bleary eye and groaned.
“Shut the bloody bed curtains. Are you trying to blind me, old man?”
Featherton huffed, handing him a cup. “You’ve wasted the day, my lord. ’Tis time to wake.”
Feminine giggling filled the chamber. A bare foot stuck out of the covers. Two wenches sprawled across him, barring him from moving. Robert frowned as he drained the cup.
“Go on, then. You know the rules. No staying the night.” He almost fell from the bed as he fumbled for the pouch he’d carelessly tossed to the floor yestereve.
His steward grumbled as he picked up the rumpled clothing. A female foot caressed his backside. Sniffing, he made a face that said,
Must I put up with such harlotry?
Featherton could say much with a single glance.
“When shall we see you again, my lord?” The blond one, with hair like the sun, favored Robert with a wink. Only she had difficulty and blinked both eyes, making her look rather like a cross-eyed owl.
The redhead tucked the coins away in her ample cleavage, a saucy grin on her face. “You know where to find us when you wants us again.”
Indeed he did, though he would give all the gold in his coffers to wake up in his own chamber with a wife of his own.
The women tittered and whispered as they dressed, casting speculative looks at Robert’s steward. The man hurried the wenches out the door, jumping when the redhead pinched his arse on her way out.
Robert couldn’t help it—he burst out laughing. Featherton cast a cutting glance his way, one that promised a meager meal, if any. Robert only had two rules. Only the two, yet he’d broken one last night. Seems he’d been too far in his cups yestereve to care.
The first rule: women never stayed the night. The second: no wenches in his bedchamber. Ever.
The last time his youngest brother, Christian, visited nigh on a year ago, he’d asked Robert about the rules. Mercilessly tormented him.
“Why don’t you want them to see your chamber? Do you keep a dead body under the bed? Or perform dark magic?”
Robert didn’t appreciate the jest. In truth, he didn’t know why. No, that was a lie. The lord’s chamber was for the lord and his lady, not wenches he dallied with. The thought of a woman, not his wife in his bed, made his stomach cramp. He was a dolt.
