A Knight in Central Park Read online

  He went down on bended knee and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “Don’t die,” he said.

  “Is she breathing?” Shelly asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m not getting a pulse. Call 911.”

  Joe ignored the intermittent honks and shouts of people in their cars, upset with the delay in traffic, having no idea that someone was hurt.

  Unable to find a pulse, he leaned forward, placed his hand beneath the woman’s neck, and covered her mouth with his. Her lips were soft. He released three short breaths, waited, then repeated the process. Her eyes fluttered open before he had time to think of what to do next.

  He exhaled; his warm breath a puff of white mist before it evaporated.

  The woman stared at him, her eyes curious.

  “You’ve been in an accident,” he told her, thankful he hadn’t killed her. “I’m Joe McFarland. I tried to steer away from you.”

  “Thank goodness she’s alive,” Shelly said as she moved to his side. “An ambulance is on the way.”

  The woman tried to sit up. “’Tis not a lance I need, my lady, but the knight carrying the lance.”

  Shelly raised a bewildered brow.

  “’Twould be kind of you to help me up,” the woman said, “I am in a dreadful hurry.”

  Joe didn’t move. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Ignoring his warning, the woman struggled to get to her feet. Her legs buckled, leaving him with no choice but to catch her in his arms.

  A stern looking man behind the wheel of a beat-up truck shouted for them to get off the street. Shelly raised a fist and shook it at him.

  Joe didn’t like the idea of moving the injured woman, but he couldn’t very well leave her on the cold ground either so he carried her to the passenger side of his Explorer. Shelly opened the door so he could place the woman on the seat.

  As far as he could tell, she wasn’t bleeding. No obvious signs of external damage, other than her odd dialect. That and the fact that she was examining his car’s interior with a fascination usually reserved for small children on their first trip to Disneyland. He admonished himself for stiffening when her dirty fingers glided over the leather interior. She was alive and that’s all that mattered. Thank God he hadn’t killed her, was the mantra running through his mind.

  “You’re not worried about your car, are you?” Shelly whispered behind him.

  “Of course not.”

  Shelly sighed. “I think my heart stopped for a minute there.”

  “Yeah, another foot into the street,” Joe said, “and she wouldn’t have had a chance.”

  They both watched the woman continue her detailed inspection of his Explorer. She pushed a few buttons, causing the sunroof to slide open and the windshield wipers to squeak against the glass.

  Joe looked at Shelly with concern. “Did you hear her speak?”

  “Maybe she knocked her head when you hit her,” Shelly said before moving to the woman’s side. “Her teeth are chattering. She’s freezing.” Shelly turned to him. “Give me your coat.”

  He pulled off his jacket and handed it to her.

  Shelly placed his coat over the woman’s shoulders. They both watched the woman rub her cheek against the soft fabric.

  Joe glanced at his watch. What was taking the ambulance so long?

  “Help is on the way,” Shelly told the woman. “Do you know your name?”

  The woman frowned. “Only a dim-witted idiot would fail to remember his own name.”

  “Okay,” Shelly said. “What is it then?”

  “Alexandra Adrienna Dunn.”

  “That’s some name.”

  “My mother’s doing. She was certain she was having twins and thus could not bear to surrender either name when she had only one babe.”

  “Fascinating,” Shelly said in earnest. “Now how many fingers am I holding up?”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed. “You think I have had no schooling? I may not be of noble birth, but do not assume I cannot read nor write.”

  “No, of course not,” Shelly interrupted. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t hit your head when the Professor ran into you, that’s all.”

  The woman’s eyes flashed as she glanced past Shelly to look at him instead, peering deep into his eyes, making Joe feel as if he were hiding some deep dark secret.

  Joe jangled the change in his pocket, relieved to hear sirens. The woman flinched at the high-pitched sound, but she continued to stare at him with an intensity that made him nervous. The ambulance weaved through traffic. A police car pulled up to the curb behind them.

  As Shelly went to talk to the paramedics, the woman’s attention returned to the interior of his car. Her face was smudged with dirt and it was difficult to determine the color of her hair because it was matted to her head and half covered with muck. Without much thought to what he was doing he reached his hand into the car and removed a leaf from behind her ear.

  She slapped his arm.

  “Ow! What did you do that for?”

  “For touching me...and for kissing me earlier.”

  An incredulous laugh escaped him. If not for her long hair and the small bones of her wrists, he would’ve thought she was a boy. And here she had the audacity to accuse him of kissing her of all things. “I wasn’t kissing you,” he said. “I tried to feel for your pulse, and when I couldn’t find one, I...”

  She gazed downward, touching herself as if to make sure he hadn’t done any damage.

  He rolled his eyes. “I was trying to breathe air into your lungs.”

  “Do it again and I shall scream.”

  “Well, this is just great,” he muttered, thankful to see Shelly heading back with the EMT’s. “They’ll take you to the hospital,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll stay here and fill out an accident report.”

  Even beneath the dirt he could see her face pale considerably. “You don’t have to worry about payment,” he said, figuring money was the reason for her concern, “I’ll take care of it.”

  “I have not the time to go with those people. I must find the man on wheels.”

  Joe glanced around. “I didn’t see a man on wheels.”

  “Nay, I do not suppose you did.”

  Her sarcasm rang clear. “Now look here, I can see just fine. My car skidded on the ice. There was nothing I could do. It was an accident.”

  Her eyes widened. Once again she peered deeply into his eyes as if she were trying to determine if they’d met before. She pointed a finger at him. “It is you!”

  Joe grimaced. He could see personal injury lawsuit written all over her face. “Yes, it was me...my fault.”

  “Nay,” she said, “that is not my meaning. The man on wheels was not The Chosen One after all. You are The One!”

  “Afraid so,” he said glumly, wondering what it would take to get this woman into the ambulance and out of his hair. He didn’t need to be a doctor to see that she wasn’t dying. Clearly her larynx was in fine shape, making it hard for him to believe she was injured at all.

  “Both you and your lady friend avowed that you ran into me, did you not?”

  Joe exhaled heavily. “I don’t know about avowed, and she’s not exactly my lady friend, although she is my friend and assistant.”

  He felt bad enough and people were beginning to gather. The last thing he needed was for someone to recognize him or for one of his students to drive by. He certainly didn’t need any negative publicity right now. Not when he had the Academy reviewing his files, analyzing his character, watching his every move.

  “Look into my eyes once more,” the woman demanded.

  Joe gestured for Shelly to hurry with the stretcher.

  “Ah ha!” she said, startling him. “Verily I do say you look a bit dizzy-eyed and desperate.”

  Shelly appeared.

  Thank God.

  The woman looked to Shelly for affirmation. “His lordship appears desperate, does he not?”

  Shelly hardly flinched at his being r
eferred to as his lordship. Shelly merely turned to study his face, then shrugged noncommittally. “Yeah, sure, I guess you could say that. But maybe distressed would better describe his expression.”

  “Distressed,” Alexandra repeated softly. “Aye, distressed will do.”

  Chapter Three

  Journeys end in lovers meeting.

  —William Shakespeare

  Sitting in bed, in a strange room, Alexandra had naught to do but ponder her predicament. Joe McField...or was it McFaraway? Either way, he was The Chosen One; the man who was going to save her family, her home.

  The man she would someday marry.

  Her thoughts quickly turned to the ride here and the mind-boggling speed in which the horseless carriage had brought her to this strange place. She looked about, astonished by such cleanliness. Shelly had told her that only the sick and injured stayed in the fortress. The walls and floors were as stark and clean as the finest linen back home.

  A gray-haired woman, clad in white, fiddled with a metal box nearby and then left the room without a word said. The bed across from Alexandra was empty and neatly made. No dirt or food scraps covered the floors. Not one blade of grass or straw could be seen.

  How wondrously strange all of these items of the future.

  Grandfather had said there would be unimaginable objects in this other world, and certainly he was right. Carriages without horses, flashing lights above the streets...and without use of a flame! If only Grandfather could be here with her to see it all with his own eyes.

  Alexandra scratched at her bandaged leg, then promptly fell back onto the soft pillow behind her. She twiddled her thumbs and peered at the ceiling until her eyes crossed. Not one to dawdle, she found it difficult to sit still. With naught else to keep her busy, she found herself recalling the determined, unwavering glint in her hero’s dark blue eyes. That look had told her everything she needed to know. The man who called himself Joe was to be her knight.

  “Sir Joe,” she said aloud, unimpressed with the sound of his name on her lips.

  As a child she had thought her champion would possess a name like Drake or George. Even Thomas had a certain ring to it, conjuring images of strong warriors from the past. But Joe? Her shoulders dipped. His name mattered not. The only thing that mattered was that he was determined, strong, and brave enough to conquer Sir Richard and his men upon their return to her time. Her time. How strange the thought seemed. And yet somehow it had truly happened. Reaching under the cover, she felt for the stones within the hem of her garment. The strange lady in white had wanted her to undress, but she had refused. Relief swept over her as she grasped the small stones.

  The woman named Shelly had assured her Sir Joe would come to check on her before long. Alexandra needed only to convince Sir Joe to return home with her. Until the next full moon, she could not let him out of her sight.

  She tapped a finger to her chin, endeavoring to come up with a plan when the door suddenly swung open.

  The very man who filled her thoughts appeared, looking tall and broad-shouldered as he entered the room. She cocked her head for a better look at the strange headgear he wore over his eyes. He had not been wearing the odd apparatus earlier. “What is that contraption strapped across your face?”

  He took them off. “My glasses?”

  “Aye,” she said, reaching for them and then placing the apparatus over her eyes. “What do they—Oh, my, they are ghastly.” She took them off and blinked to regain a clearer vision.

  He plucked them from her clutches and tucked them into his shirt pocket. “You’ve never seen a pair of eyeglasses before?”

  She shook her head. “Nay. I thought you said your eyesight was that of an owl.”

  Sir Joe seemed skeptical, uneasy, and thus she figured now was not the time to tell him of his destiny, his quest.

  “They’re for reading,” he told her. “Listen, I talked to the doctor. He said you have some bruising, but no broken bones. You’ll be up and about in a few days.”

  “My leg itches terribly. Can you not remove the bandages for a moment?”

  He shook his head. “Here,” he said, gathering a stack of bound papers from a nearby table. “Maybe this will help keep your mind off the itch.”

  She took the thick parchment he offered, feeling the smooth texture with her fingertips. She turned the thick pile of parchment over and gasped at the sight of a woman in full color, dressed in strange undergarments, her bosom heaved against colorful fabric. “Do women dress like this in your time?”

  Joe glanced at the picture. “I wish,” he said with a smile.

  “What do you wish?”

  “Nothing. It was a joke. I was kidding.”

  Alexandra looked at the colored drawing again. No one she had seen so far had been dressed like this Jezebel, but Sir Joe wished for all women to wear this sort of garb. She smiled inwardly. Sir Joe, it seemed, was quite the rogue.

  “Do you have a relative I could call?” he asked, his tone stern and much too serious. “Someone to come get you?”

  “Nay, everyone I know is far, far away.” A thought struck her, and she lifted a questioning brow. “Surely you’ll not leave me to fend for myself after striking me down?”

  “It was an accident,” he said. “If you give me the name of a friend, anyone at all, I’ll contact them and make sure they know you’re here.”

  Joe glanced at his watch. If he left this minute he might get to Suzanne’s place in time for dinner with her parents. Although missing dinner altogether had its appeal, he had canceled last week and they would never forgive him if he was to be so rude again. “Where do you live? I’ll have Shelly drop you there after you’re released. How about that?”

  “I have no place to go, Sir Joe.”

  He pressed a finger to his temple. “Don’t you think ‘sir Joe’ is overdoing it a bit?” He studied her face for a moment as he wondered what kind of game she was playing.

  Before she could reply, the door swung open and Shelly entered the room. She headed straight for the bed. “Does it hurt?” Shelly asked Alexandra.

  Joe shifted his weight from one foot to the other and glanced at his watch again.

  “Nay, ’Tis not so bad.”

  Her ridiculous dialect was driving him nuts. Every ’tis and ’twas made his teeth clench tighter. He wrapped his hand around Shelly’s arm, excused them both, and pulled her from the room and into the hallway.

  The door shut softly behind them.

  He kept his voice low. “She claims to have no place to stay. If you ask me, the woman is nuts. I really think she believes she’s from another century.”

  Shelly’s eyes lit up as an idea came to her. “Let her stay at your place for a few days. At least until she can get around.”

  “Absolutely not. This isn’t like bringing home a stray puppy or a kitten. She’s human. At least I think she is.”

  “Oh, come on. She looks perfectly innocent to me. She’s extremely sweet natured. What harm could she do? You’ve got plenty of room in your apartment and the publicity might do you some good. You want to impress the Academy, don’t you? The headlines will read: Joe McFarland Helps the Homeless. What could be better than that?”

  “Forget it, she’s a lunatic. She could be a thief for all I know.”

  Shelly plunked a hand on her hip. “And exactly how much of your property is she going to carry off with a bum leg?”

  “She could be on drugs. The last thing I need are needles scattered about my coffee table.”

  The doctor swept past, prompting them both to fix their gazes on him as he entered Alexandra’s room.

  “Did you see that gorgeous man?” Shelly asked. “Was that Alexandra’s doctor?”

  Joe’s temples throbbed. “Yes, and I didn’t see a ring on his finger. I need to go. Here,” he said, stuffing his keys into Shelly’s hand. “You take my car and I’ll catch a cab. I filled out the required forms and told the hospital staff to bill me. See if they can keep Alexandra overnigh
t. If it will make you feel better, I’ll come back tomorrow and find her a place to stay. One of those shelters for women...or something like that.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Shelly said, “but don’t think I won’t remember this. You owe me one.”

  Joe shot her a quick smile before he took off down the hall toward the open elevator.

  Chapter Four

  You may delay, but time will not.

  —Benjamin Franklin

  The fullness of the moon lit up the street as Joe handed the cab driver a twenty. Joe took his change and headed toward his condo. Shuffling his hands in his pockets, he remembered at that moment that he’d given Shelly his car keys, which meant she also had the keys to his house.

  Damn. Nothing had gone right all day. He’d missed an important meeting this morning, he’d run over a homeless woman, his girlfriend, Suzanne, was no longer speaking to him, and now he’d have to break into his own home.

  The bedroom window on the east side had a flimsy latch. He’d try that first. His feet crunched on the icy snow as he made his way around the side of the building.

  Sirens wailed in the distance.

  He jiggled the window frame, congratulating himself when the lock came loose. Hoping not to wake his neighbor, Mrs. Peacock, he took his time raising the wood frame an inch at a time. Once the window was wide enough to fit his body, he got a good solid grip on the windowsill and pulled himself headfirst through the opening, slithering to the ground like a snake.

  Sprawled out on the floor on his belly, he immediately sensed someone lurking in the shadows. He heard a movement to his right and saw a flash of glinting metal just before something hard connected with his head. A shocking bolt of pain pierced through his skull, and he quickly faded into oblivion.