The Reluctant Viking Page 12

  " 'Tis hard for you, is it not," Gyda asked kindly, "being away from your family? I know you have your own business and could probably start another one here with no trouble, but family—well, that is everything, is it not?"

  Ruby thought about Gyda's words, then offered hesitatingly, "In my country, women are liberated. They believe that no woman should be defined by a man—or by the children she bears. She should have her own identity."

  "I don't understand."

  "Women used to feel that their goal in life was to get married and have children. Now they're free from that bondage. Many women choose not to have a man in their lives, and some married couples choose not to have children—ever."

  "Well, ne'er have I heard such ridiculous nonsense in all my life! Of course, each woman has her own identity. When Olaf goes a-Viking or trading with Thork, I handle all his business affairs. I can supervise the unloading of a ship, keep accurate accounts, run the farm and home, but when my husband returns, I gladly defer to him the role of head of our household."

  "Haven't you ever resented giving up that authority?"

  "Nay. A man needs to feel he is taking care of his wife and children. If a woman wants to pursue some talent or even own a business, that would be acceptable, as long as it did naught to interfere in his role as provider and head of the family unit. Surely it is so in every country. I cannot imagine otherwise."

  Ruby thought about her words before admitting, "We've made tremendous gains for women's rights in my country, but perhaps we've made some mistakes in our haste."

  "Forsooth! What glory could there ever be in a woman acting the man, of carrying that burdensome job all the time? What woman could live with herself if she makes her man feels less than a man?"

  What woman, indeed!

  "She may as well cut off his male parts, like that song you sing about the man wounded in the Asian War." Gyda pondered a moment and then turned abruptly to Ruby, her forehead creased in concentration. "Is that why your husband left you? Did you make him feel less the man?"

  Ruby closed her eyes wearily. When she opened them, she looked at Gyda bleakly. "I think so. Honest to God, without thinking, that's just what I did."

  With a heavy heart, Ruby entered the front door of Olaf's home. She stopped suddenly. Thork sat at the table with his two sons playing the Viking board game Hnefatafl, similar to checkers. They laughed and joked and acted like any normal father and sons.

  What was going on here?

  * * *

  When Thork looked up and saw Ruby standing in the doorway, his heart skipped a beat. For the love of Freya! After dozens of battles, endless women, so many he had lost count years ago, his stupid damn heart jumped at the sight of a lackwitted, skinny woman with boy-hair and the attitude of a shrew.

  It was that kiss! Thork couldn't forget the delicious, bone-melting, soul-shattering kiss. Nor his anger over Ruby's refusal to follow through on the promise inherent in such a kiss. But he blamed himself, as well. He never should have allowed the kiss to happen. He had been lax. Just like today. He should not be here. Thork could not let anyone know that Eirik and Tykir were his sons. It was too dangerous. It would be so easy for his enemies to use the information against him.

  Thork stood and signaled silently to the boys. They understood that he could not stay when a stranger was about. At least, he thought they understood. Sometimes when he caught a hurt look in their eyes, he wondered if he should not follow his only other alternative—to take his sons on a ship and disappear to some faraway country, mayhap even that Godforsaken Iceland where so many Vikings fled of late.

  * * *

  "Don't you even think it!" Ruby told Thork as she stomped up to him, placed a palm on his chest and pushed him back down into the chair. "You're not leaving here until we've had a chance to talk."

  "Do you give me orders, wench?" A smile twitched the corners of Thork's lips, despite his apparent disbelief over her nerve in pushing him around.

  "You bet I do! I'm so mad I could spit nickels."

  "Nickels?"

  "It's not important. Suffice it to say, I've had enough of your avoiding me."

  Eirik and Tykir giggled at the sight of their fierce father being bullied by a woman.

  "Do you seek my company, sweetling? Wouldst you try my charms, after all? I had not thought my wordfame had spread so far."

  "Wordfame? Charms?" When understanding dawned, Ruby spurted out, "Why, you insufferable slime-sucking frog!"

  "Frog?" Thork croaked out on a choked laugh.

  "Yes, frog! Leave it to me to land in the dream of a lifetime where I get the frog instead of the prince."

  Thork grinned insufferably, probably not even understanding what she meant.

  Ruby clenched her fists tightly to get her emotions under control. Then she turned back to him, calmly. "I want to talk to you about our sons."

  They both glanced immediately to Eirik and Tykir who stared at them, wide-eyed and wide-eared.

  "Leave," Thork ordered his sons. "We will talk afore I depart."

  "Will you stay for dinner, Father, now that Ruby knows?" Tykir pleaded.

  Thork scrutinized Ruby speculatively.

  She understood little—only that she wasn't supposed to be aware that a relationship existed between the father and sons. Why?

  "Mayhap."

  "Don't be ridiculous. Stay. I'm not going to spoil your little charade."

  When the boys left, Thork motioned Ruby toward Gyda's private solar. Everyone else had conveniently disappeared.

  "Afore you think of chastising me again," Thork warned, "not that you have any right to do so, let me assure you this is not a charade. 'Tis important no one knows I cherish my sons."

  Cherish? Ruby's heart warmed suddenly toward her Viking "husband." Perhaps she'd misjudged him.

  Thork continued brusquely, "Much trouble have Olaf and I gone to in the past ten years to create an image that one word from you could ruin."

  "Why? Why must people think they aren't your sons?"

  " 'Tis not for you to know," Thork replied stubbornly.

  "Really! I think you're being overly dramatic."

  "Dramatic, am I?" Thork leaned his handsome face close to her, almost nose to nose, and jabbed her pointedly in the chest for emphasis. "My enemies murdered Eirik's mother, Thea, shortly after his birth. He only escaped death himself because an old midwife in attendance switched babes. The poor bonder's son was not so fortunate."

  "I thought Eirik's mother died in childbirth," Ruby gasped.

  Thork dismissed that explanation as nonsense with a wave of his hand. " 'Tis the story we passed about."

  "I don't understand any of this. Why can't you live as a family with your sons?"

  " 'Tis not for you to understand. Just stop your bloody interfering." He held her eyes stonily until he was sure he'd made himself clear.

  Finally, Ruby's confused mind accepted all that Thork had told her. "I want to help."

  "Naught do we need of you except silence. Think you that is a possibility?"

  Affronted, Ruby stated, "I would never do anything to hurt those boys." Nor you, for that matter, not that you deserve it. "They remind me of my own sons. Eirik and Tykir probably satisfy some maternal need in me."

  "Satisfy your needs elsewhere, wench," Thork ordered flatly. Then he stepped away and sat down, directing puzzled blue eyes at her. "When first we met, you said your husband left you. Why? Did he take your sons with him?"

  Ruby sat down, as well. "No, he would never take Eddie and David away from me." How could she explain the complicated mess their marriage had become? She couldn't. Not in a few words. And so she didn't try. Instead, she tried to change the subject by teasing, "Perhaps I was too much for him," and jiggled, her eyebrows provocatively.

  Thork leaned back in Olaf's comfortable chair and smiled languorously. "If you kissed him the way you did me, I doubt you not. Do not think I have forgotten that kiss of yours. You have a knack for turning a man's bones to ho
ney."

  A compliment from Thork? That was a first. Ruby felt an annoying blush spread across her cheeks and down her neck. That's probably why he said it, just to fluster her.

  "Unlike your husband, though," Thork went on, "I doubt you would be too much for me. Well-matched I suspect we would be." An infuriating smile of supreme self-confidence spread across his face, and his blue eyes glittered with amusement.

  "Your arrogance knows no bounds," Ruby sputtered, rising from Gyda's chair to exit the room before she embarrassed herself by hopping into his arms, as she wanted to do. To her chagrin, he pinched her behind as she turned her back on him.

  "Will you stop doing that?" she snapped, rubbing her bottom.

  "Just checking to see if it still fit in the palm of my hand," Thork replied in mock innocence.

  Ruby glared at him.

  "It does." Laughing, he left the room before she could say more, but he did get in a final jab. "I wonder if other body parts fit as well."

  * * *

  Thork stayed for the evening meal, at which Gyda regaled the family with an account of the afternoon's activities in Byrnhil's boudoir. They howled with laughtdr, even the children, when Gyda described a stark-naked Byrnhil demanding that Ruby make her a set of flame-red underwear.

  "Seems likely Sigtrygg will be in a good mood tonight," Olaf said dryly. Then, tongue-in-cheek, he teased, "Methinks my Gyda might look good in one of those outfits, too."

  Gyda lifted her chin defiantly and told him, "We have already made plans to do just that."

  Olaf's mouth dropped open in surprise, then he laughed heartily. "For me, you would do that, Gyda? 'Tis not necessary. I like you well enough in the raiment your God gave you."

  Gyda blushed attractively and stood up to her husband's ribald teasing, " 'Tis for myself I do this. A woman likes to wear nice things for herself, as well." Then she looked at Ruby meaningfully and added, "After all, a woman has her own identity."

  Thork and Olaf hooted with laughter at Gyda's defiant speech, causing her to blush.

  "Shut up, you male chauvinist pigs," Ruby said.

  I agree. Shut up, you male chauvinist hogs," Gyda mimicked.

  Thork and Olaf howled even louder. Ruby couldn't help herself from giggling.

  After the pleasant meal, they all adjourned to Gyda's solar. Surprisingly, Thork joined them. Ruby held back from the others slightly and said to Thork, I thought you'd be off to seduce young Dolly Parton."

  "Who?"

  "The lady with the big..." Ruby held her two hands about a foot in front of her chest to demonstrate.

  Thork grinned and shook his head at the unbelievable things Ruby came out with. She surprised herself sometimes. She'd never been this bold in her other life.

  "You mean Esle? She visits her family. Mayhap later." His eyes twinkled at Ruby's apparent jealousy.

  Ruby sniffed contemptuously.

  "Lest you care to take her place. Seems I made that offer once afore." Thork teased her, she knew that. And yet his expression held a questioning, almost hopeful, lilt.

  "No, thank you. Unless, of course, you've reconsidered my counter offer."

  "Persistent, you are!" He shook his head in exasperation. "Nay, methinks the bedding would not be worth the price of a wedding."

  "Methinks you'll never know," Ruby retorted with a quick toss of her head. But, oh, how tempted she was to take this man to her bed and make love to him until his arrogance oozed out his ears. She could do it, too, she told herself.

  Thork stayed through Astrid's playing of the lute, Gunnhild's exquisite singing and finally Ruby's storytelling. Oddly silent, he sipped his mulled wine, with Eirik and Tykir at either shoulder. He smiled faintly with amusement at Ruby's children's stories but snorted disgustedly at her caricatural retelling of "Thork and the Beanstalk."

  "I think that might make great entertainment for the Althing," Ruby said with a straight face.

  "By Thor's hammer! Dare you such," Thork warned Ruby, "and you will spend the rest of your life locked in the barn."

  All turned suddenly quiet then, remembering Ruby's and Gudrod's irresponsible actions. Sometimes, in moments like this, Ruby forgot that these sometimes violent people were not really her friends. Even Thork.

  She and the boys walked Thork to the barn for his horse. Eirik and Tykir went inside to help Ulf saddle the mare. while Ruby and Thork waited, leaning against the side of the building.

  "Are you sure you will not reconsider and come back with me?" He ran a finger seductively up her bare arm and left a trail of sensitized goosebumps in its wake.

  She shook her head regretfully. "I can't."

  Thork touched the ends of her hair with his fingertips. "Does your husband like your hair thus?" His tone of voice betrayed his lack of appreciation for the short hair style.

  "He doesn't mind it. It's much easier to care for, especially since I have to get up so early for work each morning." Suddenly she remembered something she hadn't thought of for years and, without thinking, blurted it out, "Actually, when we were first married, I had long hair, down past my shoulders. Jack loved it. He used to tell me to never cut it."

  That was so long ago. How could she have forgotten?

  Thork cocked his head quizzically. "And you cut it anyway?" He clearly did not understand. "Did you not love him? Did you not want to please him?" Meanwhile, he held both of her hands in his, with his thumbs making sensuous circles on her wrists. Her heart beat so wildly, and her blood pounded so hard, she could barely think.

  "It was such a little thing," she whispered, moving closer to his warm chest. "I'm sure it didn't matter much to Jack."

  Thork said nothing, but he obviously didn't believe her. She wasn't so sure herself.

  His roving hands had moved to her waist and were slowly inching up to the undersides of her breasts. Ruby held her breath, her body tingling everywhere he touched. When he stopped just short of his goal, Ruby exhaled slowly before asking shakily, "Thork, do you trust me now, or do you still think I might be a spy—that I have some ulterior motive for being in Jorvik?"

  "Never have I truly thought you a spy, but I cannot trust you completely, either. There are too many unanswered questions, and leastways I have learned the hard way to trust no man—or woman—completely. Too much risk weighs in the balance to allow you free rein."

  Ruby's shoulders slumped in weary resignation, and Thork put a forefinger under her chin, lifting her face so she would have to look at him.

  "My opinion matters naught," he continued. "Besides, I will be gone to Jomsborg once the Althing completes its business next month."

  "And how long will you be gone?"

  Thork shrugged uncertainly. "Two years."

  "Two years!" Ruby's heart felt like a lead weight in her chest, and her next words could barely pass the huge lump in her throat. "Why so long?"

  "Two years have I devoted to my grandfather's affairs, but I took a Jomsviking oath long ago. Honor demands my immediate return."

  "What honor is there in killing?"

  Thork's shoulders stiffened. "A man does what he must to protect his people."

  "Have you killed many people?"

  "Yea, that I have. More than I can count."

  "And you choose this life-style?" Ruby shook her head, unable to understand Thork's harsh attitude.

  "Sometimes men have no choices." A tense muscle twitched in the hard plane of Thork's cheek.

  They could hear the children getting closer, and Thork quickly bent down to her. "Will you favor me with a kiss to comfort me on the long ride back to the castle?"

  "Not so long," Ruby countered with a smile, putting aside her concerns over Thork's ruthless nature. She could no more stop herself from leaning into his kiss than halt the wild beating of her heart.

  With a hand looped round her neck, Thork pulled her closer. His lips were a hairsbreadth from hers when he hesitated, looking into her eyes in an all-too-familiar way, then kissed her deeply, turning slightly from side to
side to mold their lips just right.

  With a sigh of resignation, Ruby relished Thork's kiss. It felt so right to be in his arms. Somehow, some way, she knew this was where she was meant to be. She put her arms around Thork's neck and moved closer.

  Thork jolted away slightly and studied Ruby's face, trying to understand this innate chemistry between them. He touched her lips lightly with the tip of his tongue, and Ruby moaned, parting her lips for more. The children's voices grew louder, and Thork forced himself to pull away, holding her firmly by the shoulders until both of their shuddering breaths slowed down. Then he gave her another slight peck on the lips and whispered, "Sleep well, heartling," before mounting his horse and riding away.

  Ruby tossed and turned throughout the night. Daybreak finally crept through her bedchamber before sleep finally came. She hoped Thork suffered, as well.

  Chapter Eight

  Three weeks had passed since Ruby's arrival in Jorvik. Ruby had felt at peace since she started attending first-light services at St. Mary's minster with Gyda each morning. She was surprised to learn that the Viking city hosted eleven Christian churches.

  No longer did she continually question when she would return to the future. Ruby believed this time-travel experience had been ordained by some force greater than man. She wasn't resigned to the fact that she might not ever go back, but she decided to take one day at a time.

  When she and Gyda returned home from church one day, Ruby ate a piece of bannock and a slice of hard cheese before Byrnhil showed up at her doorstep in a Viking-version jogging suit. Between Ruby's Brass Balls T-shirt, jeans and Nikes and Byrnhil's specially made purple silk pants and tunic-style shirt, the two women were a sight to behold as they jogged the two miles that had become their morning routine.

  Byrnhil had convinced Olaf to allow Ruby to jog with her. Ulf, of course, followed after them, his face burning with humiliation. Several of Byrnhil's ladies had jogged with them the first two days but refused to come anymore.

  "My women are weak," Byrnhil jeered. "Too much soft living. But mayhap 'twas the butcher's remark on the size of their rumps. Methinks, though, that the blacksmith's remark about their jiggling breasts was the last straw."