Page 66 of An Enchanted Spring

“I believe I’ve already explained that I grew up here, Emma.”

“So, what? Is horseback riding a core requirement of elementary school in Ireland?”

“Never went to elementary school,” was the reply.

“Homeschooled, then. Whatever. Don’t be obtuse.”

“Obtuse? I believe there’s only one person on this horse who fulfills that description. And it’s not me, love.”

She shifted in the saddle and would have fallen, had Aidan’s arms not tightened when they did. He righted her and when her heartbeat returned to semi-normal, she softened her tone. “You weren’t born in the Middle Ages, Aidan. I don’t know where we are—”

“We came up near the coast,” Reilly called out. “We’ll be home before sunrise if we can keep the horses going through the night.”

She ignored him. “But,” she continued, “it’s not possible to travel through time. It just isn’t.”

“Yet here we are,” Aidan said blandly.

She sighed in frustration. “Do you need a doctor?”

“He saw one, once,” Cian called out from her other side. “It didn’t go well.”

“Bite your tongue,” Aidan replied. “It could’ve gone so much worse.”

“Really? How?” Cian asked. “The last time you went, youdove out the front door of the poor man’s office, straight into the car, and told me to drive like a ‘bat out of hell.’ I’m not sure what definition ofworseyou’re thinking of, but when that man chased the car almost to the freeway…” He trailed off. “Well, I wasn’t happy about it.”

“Well then, I suppose we ought to be glad James decided he could handle me as a patient, aye?”

Emma tried to smile, but found she couldn’t. “Let’s just get you to your house; then we’ll evaluate you and see if we can’t find someone to help.”

At some point,Emma fell asleep in Aidan’s arms, while still atop the horse. She woke with a start when the horse stopped, and Aidan slid down the side of the beast with her in his arms.

Her legs were horribly sore.

After Cian scouted a safe location, Aidan gave her limited privacy to take care of her personal needs, then conferred quietly with Reilly as the horses drank from a stream nearby. Emma stood shakily, her legs screaming in protest, and carefully made her way to them, Cian alert and on guard behind her. She patted her hair, which she suspected might never again resemble anything other than a rat’s nest, and wished for a brush.

Aidan, much to her dismay, looked effortlessly calm, cool, and collected. His hair was delightfully tousled, and he stood chatting as though he fought off crazy ex-fiancés and rode horses across forests and hills every day of his life.

There was no way they were in 1465.

Right?

The forest around her didn’t look medieval, but then again, she didn’t really expect a forest to differ much from year to year. The men around her wore medieval clothing,had medieval weaponry, and rode horses, but…that could be part of an elaborate reenactment scheme. Or perhaps a disguise from Ben.

She shook her head hard. She wouldn’t be sucked into their delusion.

“My lady?” Cian said from behind her.

Emma hadn’t realized she’d stopped walking, and she forced her feet to move again. She had never felt more confused in her life.

“We’ve about six more hours ahead of us,” Aidan said as she approached. “If you need to stop, I think this is as safe an area as we’re to come across. We’re almost to MacWilliam land, and last I knew Nick was friendly with the neighbors.”

Reilly held up a hand. “Things can change in eight years, MacWilliam. Don’t assume anything.”

“Aye,” Aidan agreed. “Can you continue on, Emma?”

She nodded—really, what else could she do?—and allowed him to help her onto the accursed creature, who snorted and sidestepped away once she was on its back. Aidan didn’t release the reins, though, and swung into the saddle behind her.

“I hate this horse,” she muttered, her muscles sore and aching. “If I never have to ride one again, it’ll be too soon.”

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