Chapter Eighteen

When in doubt, go shopping …

One day at a time, that was Madrene’s new credo.

She could not continue to contemplate the complexity of time-travel and whether she had or had not, lest she go mad. She had no idea what her future held, either here or with Ian. She had no idea if she should go back to Norstead with Torolf or not.

And so she had chosen to live for the moment, not thinking about the future, which was contrary to the way she always used to live. Everything had a plan then. Her life was organized and well thought out.

And look where that got me.

Now the only thing she could say for certain was that she loved Ian. She knew that without a doubt.

But what will he think when I tell him about the time-travel? Will he still love me then?

She had no answer.

Initially her father had balked at bringing her back to Sandy-egg-go, but he finally gave in when Madrene railed at him. She knew he was hurt that she didn’t want to spend more time in his company, but she was a grown woman now, and there would be plenty of time later for them to reminisce. Since coming back, she had cleaned and polished Ian’s home from floor to ceiling, even though it was not all that dirty. She polished doorknobs and metal fixtures in the kitchen and bathing chamber. Windows sparkled from her vinegar cleansing. She picked cat hair off the furniture piece by piece.

Ian would be back tomorrow. She planned to tell him her secret right off. Then what would be, would be. The fates had brought her here. The fates would decide whether she should stay.

She had gained a friend in Polly, the lady who lived in the keep next to Ian’s and who cared for Sam in Ian’s absence. Polly’s husband was serving on a ship somewhere whilst Polly stayed home and cared for their two small children.

“Gone a-Viking?” Madrene had asked her.

Polly had laughed. “You could say that.”

They were going shopping together at the food mart today.

Madrene had plenty of money since Slick had sold her jewels. She kept the parchment money in three leather traveling bags in back of Ian’s closet. She had told Slick she preferred coin, but he’d grinned and said, “No, you don’t.” As she eased herself down into Polly’s bug—that was what she called her small yellow vehicle—she asked, “Is this enough money?” She pulled out the small sheets of parchment from her pocket.

Polly stared at her in astonishment, as if questioning whether she was serious or not. “Five hundred dollars should be more than enough money for the supermarket, honey. Besides, we can’t buy too much, or it won’t fit in the bug.”

As they drove toward the market place, Madrene turned in her seat and entertained the two children in their own special seats … one-year-old Sharon and two-year-old Jonathan.

“They are beautiful children,” Madrene said with a sigh.

“Yeah, they are,” Polly said with unabashed pride. “Do you and Ian plan to have children?”

“No.”

“No?” Polly was clearly surprised. “But Ian adores children. I’ve seen him play with mine. He would be such a good father. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“I am barren.”

“Are you sure? Have you been to a doctor?”

“Nay. ’Twould serve no purpose to consult a healer on such a matter. For more than five years my husband tried to plant his seed in me. It would not take.”

“Did it ever occur to you that it might have been his fault?”

Madrene shook her head. “No sooner did he wed another than she became big with child.” She shrugged. “I have become resigned to my misfortune.”

Polly drove her bug into a parking slot and stopped. Turning to face Madrene directly, she put a hand on hers and said, “Number one, the fact that your jerk of a husband couldn’t impregnate you doesn’t mean another man couldn’t. It happens all the time. Two, even if it is your problem, there are things doctors can do today. It might be as simple as a tipped uterus. Three, you could try artificial insemination. Four, if all that fails, you could adopt a child.”

Madrene did not understand most of what Polly had said, but she got the gist of it … modern medicine might have an answer for her. She doubted it, but it was worth pondering, she supposed. Later, she would ask for a further explanation.

Inside the food mart—a different place from the one Ian had taken her to—Madrene pushed a cart with Jonathan in front and Polly pushed another with Sharon in front.

“I cannot read,” she confessed to Polly, who looked shocked. “I am learning,” she was quick to add, “but in the meantime, I cannot prepare many of the foods here because I cannot read the directions on the boxes. So you must help me pick out things that I can make, without needing special instructions. For example, I can bake bread if you will show me where the flour and fat renderings are.”

“You mean lard, or Crisco. Don’t you need yeast, too?” When she saw Madrene frown, Polly added, “A leavening agent so the bread will rise.”

“I usually make manchet bread … a type of flat bread … but I could try the yeast, too, if you tell me how.”

Madrene bought fresh fruit and vegetables and several kinds of meat and fish. She made a wonderful smoked cod in dill sauce that people usually liked.

When they got to the personal products aisle—that was what Polly called it—Polly put two objects in her cart. Tamp-axe and co-tax. When Polly explained their purpose, Madrene clapped her hands with glee. What a wonderful country this is that they have such products! She put several in her cart.

While in that section of the mart, Polly picked up her favorite body cream, which smelled of almonds. Madrene picked up one of the tubes, too, but she bought the one that smelled like lilies of the valley.

She could tell that Polly was baffled by her ignorance of so many everyday things in this country. I wonder what she would say if I told her I have time-traveled. Hah! She was shocked that I cannot read. She would probably think I am a demented person.

When she got home, she made bread. It was one thing, at least, that did not require education. She made half of the dough into flat bread and the other half with the leavening. Setting the oven as Polly had directed, she baked the manchet bread first and let the other rise in a sunny place on the cabinet top. Was there anything in the world like the smell of fresh bread baking?

Sam settled herself at the base of the stove, attracted by the warmth. Just like her Rose at Norstead, who liked nothing more than sleeping before the fireplace. Madrene stilled for a moment, wondering if Rose had found a good home. She hoped so.

After that, she opened a can in the manner Omar had taught her. Pleased with herself that she was adjusting so well, she took her bowl of chicken noodle soup into the solar and ate whilst she watched Doctor Fill on the tea-vee.

Later, she took a shower, shampooed her hair, shaved her legs and armpits and smeared herself all over with her new cream. I smell like a bloody flower, she thought, grinning. She was not tired but she went to bed anyhow, knowing that the sooner she slept, the sooner tomorrow would come and Ian would be home.

As she lay in bed, she thought about all that had happened to her. The assault by Steinolf on Norstead, her living in the Arab lands, meeting Ian, then being reunited with her family. Is there a reason why I was sent here? Did everything that happened to me need to occur before this fate could be completed? If so, why? Her father had mentioned miracles. That, she might be able to accept. Even then, why? An idea came to her unbidden. Just before she’d fled from Fakhir’s holding, she had said a prayer to the gods, asking for help. Could it be that simple? “Ask and you shall receive.” That was a line her grandmother, Lady Asgar, used to quote from her Christian Bible.

She inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of her body cream. She would have to wash the bed linens in the morning, before Ian got home, lest he think he was sleeping in a garden. ’Twould not be manly.

Finally she fell asleep.

Honey, I’m home …

Ian got home at two a.m. after hopping an early flight back to the base.

As he entered the quiet house, Sam came up and meowed a greeting against his leg, then went back to the sofa to sleep again … the sofa she was not supposed to get up on. He shook his head at the hopelessness of trying to teach a cat anything.

Dropping his duffel bag on the hall floor, he walked into the kitchen, where the most delicious smell filled the air. Fresh-baked bread, he soon realized. Cutting off a hunk for himself and slathering it with butter, he glanced around the room. Not only was it spotlessly clean, but he would swear every aluminum fixture in the place shone like silver. Maddie had been a busy beaver.

He turned off the kitchen light and went down the hall. Opening the door to his bedroom, he could see by the hall light that Maddie was sacked out under a sheet. Possibly naked, if her bare shoulders were any indication. He felt an unexplainable pleasure just knowing she slept naked in his bed even when he wasn’t there.

The room was humid, and the sliding door to the deck was opened to the ocean air. She probably didn’t know how to turn the air conditioner on. He sniffed the air then. Holy hell! It smelled like a funeral parlor in here. Seeing no cut flowers around, he figured she must have sprayed air freshener … enough to wipe out the whole ozone layer.

Should he hop into bed and give her a little early-morning hello, or should he shower first? He opted for the latter. Closing the door carefully, he went into the bathroom, where once again everything shone; even the tiles appeared to be polished. He was anal about things being orderly and clean, probably due to his military background. Either Maddie was the same, or she had done all this for him. Either way, he was grateful. He would show her how grateful after the shortest shower in history.

Honey, I’m home, he thought a few minutes later as he eased himself onto the bed and under the sheet. I’ve got something for you.

Dream lover …

Madrene was having an erotic dream.

She knew about such things, having grown up in a household with many virile men who thought nothing of speaking of intimate things in front of women. Apparently, men, especially young ones, had dreams all the time that were so carnal, they spilled their seed into the bed linens. Madrene wasn’t spilling anything, but she definitely felt a carnal ripple or two.

She stretched and arched her back at the exquisite rub of the bed linen across her sensitive nipples. All these years she had never known her breasts could be a source of such pleasure. Ian had taught her that.

Her lower body felt sensitized, too. Almost as if butterfly wings were passing over the nether hair, back and forth, till she opened her legs, wanting the wings to touch her in that special spot. And they did. Sweet merciful Valkyries! The yearning in her body turned red hot and urgent. She wanted so badly to be touched … touched till the fire crackled through and she exploded.

She had never touched herself before. Never had any inclination to. But in this dream state, she did now.

In her mind, it was Ian caressing her, readying her for mating.

The ultimate male fantasy …

Oh … my … God!

Ian had crept into the bed wanting to surprise Maddie. He’d thought a few whispery caresses would arouse her into wakefulness. There was nothing like entering a woman still warm from sleep. Instead— oh my God —she was going to masturbate. In her sleep. In front of him. Without knowing he was there.

He knelt on the bed at her side.

Should I stop her? the nice-guy side of his brain asked.

Are you nuts? the horny-guy side replied.

I’ll just watch for a little while.

Yeah, right!

She won’t mind.

You hope.

She shoved the sheet down to her waist, exposing her breasts, then kicked the rest of the sheet aside. Her breasts were full and firm and beautiful, the pink nipples already hard points which she teased further by rubbing her closed fingers up and down over them in washboard fashion. They got even harder and bigger. Her lips parted on a long sigh, and she arched her body up, squeezing the entire breasts, then flicking a forefinger over the nubs, till she was moaning.

While he was biting his lip, trying to keep himself from leaving before the gospel, so to speak, she moved her hand lower, exploring her belly and navel and then her pubic hair. He really was going to need another cold shower before he made love with her.

She raised her knees, then spread them. She lowered her finger till she found what she was looking for and keened, “Aaaaaahhhh!”

He figured it was time to get out of Dodge. She would be embarrassed at his witnessing this, as beautiful as it was. It took the skill of a Navy SEAL to extract himself from the bed without her noticing.

Looking down at the Blue Steeler that pointed the way out of the bedroom, he murmured, “Hold on, buddy. You’ll get your turn.”

Strangers in the night …

Something awakened Madrene in the middle of the night. She had been having the most incredible dream. And then …

Sitting up in the bed, she tried to orient herself. Water, that was what she’d heard. And not the sound of the ocean. It was coming from the bathing chamber. Carefully she got out of bed and took a piss-toll out of the bedside drawer—not that she knew how to use a piss-toll, but her intruder wouldn’t know that. With weapon raised, she crept out of the bedroom toward the bathroom door, which she opened quietly.

She didn’t know who was more shocked, she or Ian in the showering stall.

“Ian!” she shouted, putting a hand over her fast-beating heart.

“Maddie!”

“You rat!” she said. He should have told her he’d come back early. It had scared her spitless thinking a stranger was in the house.

“Don’t shoot! I didn’t want to wake you. I only watched for a little while.”

What is he talking about? “I thought you were an intruder.” She lowered the pistol and set it on the sink, then tilted her head in puzzlement. Her eyes went wide, and she gasped when she realized what he meant. “You watched? Oh, you are a loathsome lout! How could you?”

She turned and ran from the room. He caught up with her at the end of the hall, grabbing her from behind and wrapping his arms around her so her back was against his wet chest. She squirmed but he wouldn’t release her, just rested his chin on her shoulder and kissed her neck.

“I was sleeping.”

“I know.”

“I’ve never done that before.”

“I could tell.”

“You shouldn’t have watched.”

“I couldn’t help myself.”

“Liar.”

“Okay, I watched because I wanted to. Will you do it again?”

“Hah! Not bloody likely! Not even in my dreams!”

“I would do it for you.”

She felt his chest shaking then, and turned in his arms. “You’re laughing at me? You really are a wretch.”

“No, no, sweetie. I’m not laughing about that. I’m laughing at the thought of you facing an intruder, naked, with a pistol. The poor guy would have probably stopped whatever he was doing just to look at you.”

She tried to swat him on the face but he grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. Before she had a chance to hit him with the other hand, he lifted her off her feet, high in his arms, which were wrapped around her waist. Then he walked back to the sleeping chamber. He probably didn’t have sleep in mind, if the hardness poking her thigh was any indication.

“I missed you,” he said.

“You’re looking at my breasts when you say that.”

He just smiled.

With a wild whoop, he threw her onto the bed. She landed flat on her back with her head on the pillow, and he leaned over her.

“I missed you, too,” she admitted.

“You’re looking at my cock when you say that.”

She just smiled.

Lovin’ you ain’t easy …

It was almost dawn. They’d screwed each other’s brains out. Now it was time for the big bang.

“I have to tell you something, Maddie,” he said, dreading it more than anything he could think of. He’d rather run the O-course a thousand times than tell Maddie they were not married.

“Me, too,” she said. Turning in his arms, she looked up at him, and she was clearly scared. Maddie scared? It must be really bad.

“You go first,” he said.

She sat up in the bed, cross-legged and naked, which made his eyes do cartwheels in his head. The woman just did not have the usual feminine anxiety about her body. You had to love her for that alone. He sat up, too.

She inhaled and exhaled as if for courage. “I’m a time-traveler.”

That was not what he’d expected. That she came from Russia and was a cossack, maybe. Or a freedom fighter in the North Pole, yeah. But a time-traveler? He started to laugh.

She stared at him, absolutely serious.

“Come on, Maddie. What’s the joke?”

She shook her head. “I do not jest.” She told him the year of her birth, about her family living in some royal estate in the Norselands, that all of her looney-bird family had time-traveled, too, that everything she’d told him so far about Steinolf and the invasion and the harems was true, except those events took place long, long ago.

“That’s over a thousand years ago. Give me a break!”

“ ’Tis true. I swear it is. Leastways, I think it is.”

He put a hand to his chin and rubbed. He needed a shave. He looked at her again as she gazed at him expectantly. What did she expect? That he would tell her, “It’s all right if you’re a thousand years old, I still love you.” Shit! How do I tell her she needs to see a shrink if that’s what she really thinks. But she can’t think that. It’s gotta be a joke.

“Do you think you could still love me if I am a time-traveler?”

“Sweetheart, I would love you if you were an alien from outer space.” He leaned over and kissed her lightly on her kiss-bruised lips. First thing this morning, I’m calling Dr. Feingold at the base to get his advice. This is bizarre.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“No, but it doesn’t matter.”

“What is your secret?” she asked then.

Oh, God! I forgot. There was nothing to do but brave it out. “We’re not married.”

She gasped and jerked backward as if he’d punched her.

He took both of her hands in his and tried to explain. “It’s just a technicality. We can go get married somewhere private. Las Vegas, Reno, city hall, I don’t care. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“We are not married?” She looked crushed.

“Turns out JAM’s license to perform marriages had been taken away without his knowing it. But, please, don’t look like that. I feel as if we’re married. We will be married. Today, if you want.”

“It does matter,” she said in a dead voice. “How long have you known?”

He felt his face heat up. “A few days.”

She shook her head at him. “The question is, will you be willing to wed a thousand-year-old woman?”

“That’s silly.”

“No, it’s not. Tell me this, can a person get married in this country with no identity? Do they just marry anybody?”

“Well, no. You need a birth certificate at least, I would think. I don’t know for sure. I was never married.”

“And where are you going to find one for me?”

He was getting tired of this game. “Hell if I know! You’ve given me so many countries that you’re from.”

“Madrene Olgadottir, born in the Norselands in the year 982, daughter of Olga Gerdsson and Magnus Ericsson, former wife of Karl Ivarsson.” She lifted her chin, daring him to contradict her.

What could he say to that? Deep down, he wondered if she wasn’t just coming up with this goofball story to get out of marrying him … again. Well, he was not going to beg. With a grunt of disgust, he got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jogging shorts, then sat back down to put on socks and athletic shoes.

“Where are you going?” she asked. She was still sitting on the bed behind him.

“Running.” He stood and looked down at her. There were tears in her eyes. He wished she would rail at him like she usually did. Shrewishness he could handle. Tears would do him in.

“Why?”

“I need to clear my head. I’m in love with a wacko. That’s gonna take a little getting used to.”

She winced at his words. Before he could take them back, she said, “Running away will not solve anything.”

“I’m not running away.” But inside, he wondered if that wasn’t exactly what he was doing.

For more than an hour, he ran on the beach. It had started to rain, but he didn’t care—he needed a cold shower. By the time he’d made the return run, he’d come to a conclusion: He would take Maddie any way he could get her. Even if she claimed to be Cleopatra coming down the Mississippi on a barge, he loved her, pure and simple. She could get psychological help, or not … he didn’t care.

But when he got back to the house, it was deathly silent.

Maddie was gone.