Free Forever Ashley by Lori Copeland Page B

across the washbowl while her eyes surveyed the small bed. It wasn’t
large enough to accommodate two.
    Aaron opened his eyes and gazed at her calmly. Was she
hinting at joining him? He wasn’t that big a fool.
    “The chair appears to be available.”
    Ashley’s eyes narrowed. “You expect me to sleep in a chair?”
    “I expect you to be quiet while I sleep. Where you plan to
carry it out is none of my concern.”
    Ashley’s hands shot to her hips impatiently. “If you think—”
she began, but Aaron interrupted.
    “Mistress Wheeler, you seem to believe that you have some
say in what happens to you. Believe me, you don’t. You forfeited that right
when you fell through the roof of the tavern tonight. So muzzle yourself!”
    “Muzzle myself!”
    “Muzzle yourself.”
    “I have little choice but to accept your deplorable
behavior, do I?”
    “That does appear to be the situation,” he conceded. That
cursed Revere! He was going to have to deal with this chit tomorrow night!
    “Very well.” She walked to the chair and seated herself,
wrapping her cloak of martyrdom about her.
    “A word of warning: I will be watching you, even though my
eyes are closed. Don’t attempt to escape.”
    "I wouldn’t dream of it.”
    The noise from the tavern below drifted up to them as
silence fell over the room. Aaron forced from his mind the image of the young
woman in the chair. He wasn’t going to spend what little dozing time he had
thinking about the glimpse he’d had of the wench’s bare shoulders or her
rounded curves. He dozed for a moment, then bolted partway up as he heard her
dragging her chair to the window.
    Her eyes met his obstinately. “Oh, are you trying to sleep?”
    “What would you guess?”
    “I’d guess I’m annoying you.”
    “Then you’d guess right”
    She settled back against the hard rocker, staring out the
window.
    It was pitch dark outside; only a few lanterns in windows
broke the blackness. Drawing a deep breath, she reached over and cracked open
the window for a breath of fresh air.
    She was so tired. If she could just snap her fingers and be
back home, she would never again complain about anything or anyone.
    Resting her head against the back of the chair, she stared
into the darkness. What could have happened to whisk her to this place? She
remembered the thunderstorm, and rushing out to her car. Then she’d fallen.
Lifting her arms, she examined her elbows. The bruises and scrapes were there.
    Then...she remembered nothing until she’d fallen through the
roof of the Green Dragon Tavern onto a table.
    The whole thing was absurd! She’d read about this kind of
thing happening, but always thought it was pure fantasy. Could she have fallen
into a time warp of some sort? Was that possible? If she had, could she ever
convince her captors that she wasn’t a spy? And supposing she was able to do
that, could she then, convince Aaron to help her somehow find her way back
home?
    Her gaze traveled back to the bed, and she wondered why she
felt so safe with him. Though he wasn’t at all like Joel, except that they were
both doctors, there was still something very...familiar about him. It was
crazy. He was holding her captive, yet she felt no real sense of fear.
    Her mind refused to release the certainty that she was only
dreaming. But if she was dreaming, why couldn’t she wake up? More important,
would she ever wake up? The new, even more disturbing thought frightened her.
Really frightened her. Maybe she’d never awaken, and maybe she’d never get back
home. Oh, dear Lord. What if she was permanently caught in the eighteenth
century?
    It was so frustrating! Tears stung her eyes as she balled
her fists and screamed.
    Frantically scrambling to a sitting position, Aaron stared
back at her, his eyes wide-eyed and glassy. “What...
    “Sorry,” she murmured, realizing that she had screamed
aloud. She was going to have to act in a more rational manner, or she would
never convince him to help