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He raised his eyebrows pointedly.
“Oh!” Of course. That she could do. She wandered into the woods to relieve herself, marveling at how much the woods reminded her of home. True, some of the trees were different, but it had the same ambience. She finished, rejoining Tristan once again.
“How are you feeling?”
Since her proclamation about going home, they’d not spoken. Tristan seemed to be deep in thought, and she found herself wondering what he was thinking.
“Better,” she said, taking a piece of bread from him. “It just reminded me of Maine.”
“What’s it like? This ‘Maine.’”
Hannah knew he didn’t believe her, so the question came as a surprise. “It’s also along the coast, the Atlantic Ocean. It’s rockier than here, but just as beautiful. Mayport Bay is a typical coastal town.”
She took the skin he offered, trying not to dwell on what it was made of. Some sort of animal part, no doubt, but she was content not to know.
“How so?” he asked. Tristan leaned against a tree, taking a bite of some type of dried meat.
“The local industry revolves around the seasons, tourists in the summer months and preparing for them the rest of the year. My parents own . . .”
Owned.Hannah still had a hard time speaking of them in the past tense.
“You don’t have to tell me.” The sympathetic look in his eyes told her he remembered this part of her story. He’d lost his mother too. He understood.
Suddenly, Tristan was just a regular man again. Not some superhero knight or the lord of a castle that her entire town could fit inside. Just a guy, albeit an extremely good-looking one, who wanted to know more about her life. “They owned a flower shop. Bought it from the previous owners when I was four and my sister Caroline was a newborn. It was a terrible time to become business owners, but when it went up for sale . . .”
A sob tried to work its way up her throat. She’d wanted to tell him more about them, but she just couldn’t. She wasn’t ready. Even with her sisters she had not been ready, knowing she was supposed to be a role model for them. But she just couldn’t do it. Not this time.
“Anyway, it came in handy, knowing the flower business,” she said, consciously changing the subject.
Tristan pushed away and walked toward her and reached for the waterskin. “What do you mean?”
He drank deeply, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a manly display that made her want to kiss his neck. Lord help her.
She took a deep breath as he returned the skin back to the bag. “My degree, an MBA.” A blank look settled on his face. “My studies at university. I learned how to run a business and eventually partnered with a former classmate. We started an event planning business in Boston.” Of course, he would have no idea what that meant. “We plan things for clients. Weddings, conferences. Um . . . banquets, parties.”
She waited for him to process everything from MBA to Boston and conferences. Hannah couldn’t help but smile at his expression.
“Are you a steward then? Like Gerard?”
“I suppose. But without a boss . . . a master. We worked for ourselves.”
This was clearly a foreign concept to him.
“Everyone has a master. Every lord, an overlord. With the exception of the king. Now, come. We must make haste.” When Tristan mounted and lowered his hand to her, she took it. He lifted her so easily that Hannah actually let out an audible sigh.
You are not attracted to a freaking medieval knight.
Yes, you are. Of course you are.
She stopped arguing with herself and attempted to explain. “We don’t have a king. Or a queen. Just a president. But he, and hopefully someday she, can only be elected for eight years at most.”
Civics and history were never her favorite classes, but explaining her political system to Tristan forced her to dredge up everything she could remember. After hours of easy conversation as they rode through a changing landscape that became more and more wooded, Hannah was quite impressed with her lessons. It was only when the sun began to set and Tristan announced it was time to make camp that she realized something.
He finally believed her.
