Authors: Beth Trissel
Treading with care, he
met the appeal i
n her eyes.
“Not
as
you seem to.”
“
Are you put out with me
for coming
?”
“Quite the opposite.”
Her
mouth curved in a sm
ile
that cut through him like a red-hot
sword drawn from the blacksmith’s forge
––
and he couldn’t say why, only that she evoked a
volatile mix
of light and shadows.
“M
ust you go quite yet?
Won’t you
stay
awhile
and h
a
ve so
mething to eat first
?”
C
l
earl
y
,
she was in need of consolation
or companionship
.
It should be innocent enough
as long a
s he refrained
from offering too much
of either
.
“I’d like
that
.
Let’s see what Charlotte left us.”
E
yes glowing like twin jewels
,
Julia bounded to her feet
.
“
Soft drinks
, beer, sandwiches, fruit, milk...
I l
ooked while you fetched my bags,
”
she said, darting to him.
She caught his arm and
drew him inside
the room before he
could change
his mind
.
“Charlotte even
baked
dark chocolate
brownies!
”
He chuckled at her zeal
.
“On
a school n
ight? I
’d
better have
your share.”
She smiled
and whipped
the quilted throw off
the back
of the couch
.
Giving it a flap, she
spread it
on the floor
before the dark
ened
hearth.
“
S
it down.
I’ll bring the food
and we’ll have a picnic
.
Unless
––
you’d prefer
we eat at the table?” she faltered
, as though suddenly worried about
breaking
house rules.
“A picnic it is.”
Will
lowered himself to the blanket.
Julia launched
at the kitchen.
In the space of a mom
ent, her demeanor
had transformed from lost kitten
to
whirlwind.
She
quickly
reappeared with
an armful
of frosty bottles
and
a pre
cariously balanced tray
piled with
mammoth sandwiches
,
fresh
fruit
, and whatever goodies she’d laid her hands on
.
“Let me
help you.”
Will sprang up
and took the
drinks
and tray
before
they
tumbled
to
the floor and set
them on a low table
.
Jul
ia
charged back into the kitchen,
emerging
again
with paper plates, na
pkins, and brownies heaped on
sprigged porcelain.
“An eclectic
blend
of old and new,
”
she said, cradling
the delicate
platter securely.
Like her.
Julia was
refreshingly old
-fashioned
and yet,
engagingly
modern
.
A loud rap
on the door dis
rupted
their festivity
.
“Expecting anyone?” he asked.
She
quirked an eyebrow at him
.
“
I d
on’t know a soul
here yet.”
Annoyance ran through him
.
“Maybe it’s a visitor
unable
read the sign
on
the locked
gate
saying
we’re closed
for the day
.”
He turned the
black
knob and opened
the door.
A Viking waited outside
––
at least, he looked very much like one
––
except for
the
white T-shirt,
worn jeans,
and
leather
work
boots
.
Will
’s thoughts ran to
the pistol under his mattress.
Not that he was in the habit of shooting s
trangers
considering the throng of daily visitors
, b
ut
he
was glad of his own bulk as he surveyed the strapping figure with reddish h
air pulled back in a ponytail.
F
ur
of the same hue
covered
the fellow’s
brawny
sun-tanned
arms and he
’d flung
a knapsack
over one
massive
shoulder.
No wonder Vikings
once
held sway over the seas, plundering
ill-fated
shores and carrying off the
women.
Will
suddenly
wished Julia were safely tucked
away
in the back
room.
With the instinct of a knight protecting his lady, he stepped between her and the Viking.
“
Can I help you
?”
he said
, meaning
‘
Go away
.’
The unwanted newcomer
parted
his
large
white
teeth in a smile and fixe
d Will
with blue eyes reminiscen
t of
clear
winter skies
.
“
Sorry to interrupt, mate
.
I
tried the house.
N
o answer.
Heard voices in here,”
he
said amicably in
an
Aussie
accent
.
Even more unusual.
Will hadn’t imagined
Vikings
in Australia
.
And he was
n’t inviting this one indoors.
“I’m William
Wentworth
,
manager of Foxleigh
and grandson of the owner
.
How may I assi
st you?”
he asked in his formal managerial tone.
“
Grand place you’ve got
here
.
I’m a
Shakespearian actor
/odd jobber
looking for
work.
I ca
n turn my hand to
most
anything,
carpentry
, brick laying
, gardening.
Are you wanting
more
summer help?”
“I might
.
Do you have
references,
Mr
.––
”
“McChesney
.
Lyle
McChesney
.
Most
recently
, I’ve
been working for
Mr.
Wilkins
.
He speaks highly of you.
”
“
Ah, y
es.
Why are you no longer in
his
employ?
”
Lyle
grinned.
“I’m so
damn
good I worked
myself out of
a
job
.”
“
W
ell, w
e’re not producing
Shakespeare
at present
,
though we have in the past.
I’ve done
some community theater myself.
Play a mean Hamlet.”
“Do you, now?
Hamlet’s
a favorite of mine.”
Will warmed
to the fellow.
“I
f Wilkins vouches for you
,
I
’ll
take you on
at the rate
he paid
.
Where are you staying
?
”
“
A l
ittle motel up the road
called
the Blue Star
.
I’ve my Harley for transport.
I’m working my way
across America
before heading back to Sydney
.”
Julia nudged Will’s
elbow.
Curiosity must ha
ve drawn her to the open door
. He
saw
Lyle
spot
her.
His
vivid eyes
grew
far
more inten
t than when he
first surveyed
Will
.
“Who is this enchanting creature
, for
swear I’ve never seen her like,
” Lyle
uttered
in a Shakespearian voice
.
Odd
,
coming from a Viking,
and more than a little aggravating
.
Then Lyle
lowered the knapsack and struck a dramatic
po
se.
“‘But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.’”
T
he similarity of
the names Juliet and Julia
gave Will a start
, but she
giggled and sidled nearer
the flamboyant
stranger.
Lyle plucked a white
blossom
from the
clematis
climbing
the
wall
and
held it out
to her
.
“Fo
r your lovely tresses
.”
She took the flower and laughingly tucked it in her
gleaming
hair.
Will narrowed his eyes at her.
Didn’t Julia
know better t
han to encourage
Lyle
like
that?
No.
He
realized
her experience with men was
probably
extremely limited
in her formerly cloistered world
.
Good heavens.
She was likely
still
a virgin
.
He
didn’t even ask himself if she
were his business anymore
and
felt
more like a bristling dog than a congenial
host as he introduced the two.
“Lyle
McChesney
, this is Julia Morrow,
newly arrived from Great Britain to be our assistant tour guide.”
“Then the British Isles are the poorer and America the richer
for it
,” Lyle schmooz
ed.
Jul
ia
pinkened
and dropped her gaze
.
“How sweet.”
Doubtless,
she had no
idea how provocative that
gesture
was.
Lyle’s grin reminded
Will
o
f a wolf closing in on a dove
,
and
he
intuitively felt Julia was
his
dove.