“You are not naming our son after Twilight characters.”
“They’re older names,” I pointed out. “I can’t help it if they’re also good-looking fictional guys.”
Hudson shook his head. “Women.” To the baby, he said, “Don’t worry, I won’t let her name you after a vampire.” He bent and kissed the top of Junior’s head. As Hudson straightened, he hesitated, and looked at me questioningly. Seemingly on a whim, he put his hands on 288/356
my shoulders, leaned forward, and kissed me too. The pressure of his lips on mine made my heart skid helplessly inside my chest. I shut my eyes and kissed him back, then was angry at myself for acting that way. We weren’t a couple. He had never even said he liked me. He thought he would only marry me if he were stuck in the Middle Ages.
I stepped away from him, taking a deep breath to clear my mind.
“Okay, just because I might at some point have your baby, it doesn’t mean you can kiss me whenever you want.” He smiled, self-satisfied. Whatever his question had been, he thought he knew the answer. Hudson took the baby from my arms and spoke in a hushed tone. “Here’s another thing you need to learn about women, Stets. They might pretend to like the bad-boy Robin Hood types, but they can’t resist hick-town boys.”
“You’re so sure about that?” I asked.
He smiled. “You’re into me, I can tell.”
“I’m not into you,” I said hotly. Hotly, because as soon as the words left my lips, sparklers erupted on top of my head.
Hudson looked at them, and a grin spread across his face. The baby cooed and reached out, trying to grab the flaring light. Hudson moved farther away. “Don’t touch. Just look at Mommy’s pretty liar hat.”
He was enjoying this way too much. “Okay,” I said. “Maybe I like you a little.”
The sparklers dimmed, but didn’t go out.
Hudson raised an eyebrow.
“All right,” I said, nervously eyeing the area to make sure no one saw us. “I’m into you.”
The sparklers died, but I didn’t wait around for more commentary. I headed to the inn. Behind me I heard Hudson still talking to the baby. “Yes, we like Mommy’s flaming hairdo, don’t we?” 289/356
Once we reached the inn, Hudson stopped trying to come up with ways to embarrass me. He gave the innkeeper some coins for our meals, and then we sat down on a bench at one of the tables. I held out my hands for the baby. “Do you want me to hold Junior?”
“Junior,” Hudson repeated with distaste. He whispered conspiratorially into the baby’s ear. “I don’t think we should trust your mother where names are concerned. She put you in a dress.”
“It’s what babies wear here,” I said.
Hudson ignored me and kept whispering to the baby. “Don’t worry, when we get back to the right century, I’ll teach you to play football and drive a pickup truck.”
We didn’t say more about the future because the innkeeper’s daughter came by with our food. She was about my age and cooed happily at the baby until her mother came over and told her to get back to work. But they both stayed for a few more minutes talking to the baby and risking their lips to his grasp.
“You’ve a fine-looking lad,” the innkeeper’s wife told us, giving him a pat good-bye.
“Thank you,” I said. “His name is Edward.” The hat didn’t go off. I hadn’t lied—at that moment I wanted to name him Edward just for spite.
As soon as the innkeeper’s wife was out of earshot, Hudson took the baby from my hands and pointedly started calling him Stetson again.
When we were nearly done eating, I saw two men on horseback ride past the inn. They wore the red surcoats of King John’s men.
Hudson saw them too. He stiffened and handed me the baby. All the lightheartedness in his expression vanished. Before I knew he had done it, he took the pouch that held the Gilead and handed it to me too. “If they come in here, I’ll hold them off so you can get to the 290/356
carriage. Don’t let Bartimaeus know you have the Gilead until you reach the others.”
Fear swept through me. “No,” I whispered. “You can’t fight two trained swordsmen. I’ll go with them if I have to.” Hudson’s eyes connected with mine. “If they take you back to the castle, it won’t be for a wedding. King John will throw you into the dungeon and keep Stetson hostage to force you into making gold for the rest of your life. Do you think I’m going to let that happen?” I could see the men out front. They were nearly to the front door.
I held the baby with shaking hands. “We’ll find another way. One that doesn’t end with you being killed.”
“Don’t argue with me. Just do what I say.” I would have argued with that, but I saw the pain that flashed across his face—the same pain I’d seen at our campfire. He wasn’t thinking of the future. He was back in the past on the night he’d lost his mother. It hit me with a sickening thud that he didn’t want to escape from these men; he wanted redemption—to die heroically. He would act now because he couldn’t forgive himself for the way he had acted then.
“Dying here will not bring her back,” I said.
Hudson flinched. My words hit home, but he didn’t acknowledge them. He stood up. “Let’s walk to the door like we’ve finished our meal.”
I stood up to follow, putting my hand on his arm. “Your mother wouldn’t want you to do this.”
“How can I know what she’d want?” His voice had a bitter edge.
“She’s dead.”
We stared at each other for a moment, then the emotion on his face vanished and he was all practicality again. He took my elbow. “At the first sign of trouble, bolt away from me and run to the carriage.” 291/356
He propelled me forward and we walked toward the door. The baby made happy gurgling sounds and looked at me with his big brown eyes. Hudson’s big brown eyes.
“I don’t want you to do this,” I said.
He sighed in frustration, but didn’t answer. The door to the inn opened and the knights entered. Hudson nodded to them, the way you might to any stranger you were passing.
They didn’t move. In fact, they stopped directly in front of us, sizing me up.
The first was a bear of a man, with a beard and mustache that covered most of his face. His eyes kept running over me. “Is this your wife?”
Hudson put his arm around my waist. “Yes, and the little one is our son.”
The man didn’t take his eyes off of me. “She’s tall and pretty. Is she blond?”
“She’s taken,” Hudson said with forced humor. “If you’re looking for a pretty maid of your own, I can recommend a few in the village.” Hudson pulled me to the side, trying to walk around the knight, but the man stepped in front of us again.
He pointed a finger at me. “Are you perchance a miller’s daughter?”
I couldn’t lie, but I could tell a safer truth. “My father works with books.”
“Books?” the man repeated with disbelief. “You mean he’s a monk?”
The second man stepped toward Hudson’s side. I knew it was a strategic move; if Hudson drew his sword he would have two fronts to fight on. The move also opened up a space I could dart through to get 292/356
out the door. Hudson nudged my back, and I knew he wanted me to run.
I couldn’t. I didn’t like Hudson’s chances. If anyone was going to sacrifice themselves, it was going to be me. It had to be. This trip to the Middle Ages was my fault.
One of the knights put his hand on the hilt of his sword. In another moment, Hudson would reach for his own. My breath seemed to lodge in my throat. Should I blurt out who I was? Would that stop them from hurting Hudson?
I hadn’t heard the innkeeper’s wife approaching, but she stepped over to the guards. She addressed them in a cheery voice, as though their swords weren’t about to scrape free from their scabbards. “Welcome, gentlemen. Are you here to eat or do you have business with our cobbler?” She looked at their boots, appraisingly. “He does some fine work, this young man. I’ve known him and his wife since they were no bigger than their own sweet babe.” She patted the baby’s arm, lovingly.