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While I certainly agreed with Robert’s sentiment, and desperately wanted to oust Maid Marian from our home, I told him it would have to wait. I had other things to take care of first, and I wasn’t so self-absorbed that I thought there was much pressing need to remove Marian.
I told him, “It will happen. Eventually.”
To my surprise, a few of the Oak Boys booed in a halfhearted way, which made me look around at the campfires a bit confused. Most of them were smiling when they did it, showing me they were booing in jest.
Robert had done well building his camp of rebels. It was something I could learn from and take back to our band. Everyone here had a specific job, specialized training, and knew their role to play. Egos came to the Oak Boys camp to die, and be reborn as part of a commonwealth that focused on teamwork and unity.
Probably why they’ve seen such success raising hell at Nottingham, both at the archery tournament and the execution.
I recognized both events had essentially been instigated by me. Part of me—the dark, insidious part—feared my brother might be using me as a scapegoat for his own ends.
The other part of me—the logical, compassionate side—knew Robert would never do that. Neither would Uncle Gregory. We were family, and all we had in this world was each other.
Will, Alan, Tuck, John; they’re my family, too. Despite turning aside my own family to be with the Merry Men, I was lucky enough to see I had two threads of support. Robert and Gregory with the Oak Boys, and my Merciless Men.
Robert waved his hand toward one end of the site near the river, away from the bustle of the main camp. “There’s an empty tent for you two down there. I’m sure you need sleep.”
I perked an eyebrow. “You’re placing us so far from your prying eyes?”
The corner of his lip curled as he eyed me and then Little John. “In case you need to talk after so long apart. Yell. Argue. Whatever you need to do. It’s yours.”
His words meant a lot to me, even though they were followed by jeering from the Oak Boys that sounded filled with innuendo.
I brought Robert into a hug. “Thank you, brother.”
“Of course, little sister.” He pulled me to arm’s length and lines formed between his brow. “My home is your home, Robin. I want you to know that. I won’t make the same mistake I did when I joined King Richard in the Crusades. I won’t leave you again. My place is here, in England.”
It became impossible to blink away the tears. Sniffling, I went on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. I found I didn’t have the words, so I just swallowed over the lump in my throat and gave him a quick nod.
Then I left with Little John, hand in hand, and we retreated to the safety of our guest tent.
I mulled over Robert’s words, and wondered if, in a way, he was inviting us to bring the Merry Men here if we ran into trouble.
Nay, I can’t do that. It would only bring unwanted attention to the Oak Boys, when Robert has worked so hard to keep them secret.
He’s right: The focus is on the Merry Men, and we need to find a way to use that to our advantage. To outsmart the Sheriff of Nottingham.
I glanced up and over to Little John, a small smile playing on my lips. When he looked over, he matched my smile, and we pulled the flap of the tent back and entered.
At least now I have the one man I know who could find a way to pull off something like outsmarting Sheriff George.
“God,” I said once we were inside, and then fell into his arms and wrapped them over his broad shoulders. He was a monolith, all hard muscles and severe lines, and yet to me he was a giant fluffy cloud. I’d missed feeling his body so badly, and it all came crashing down around me now that we were well and truly alone. “I’m so happy to have you back, Little John,” I murmured near his shoulder. “I don’t think you understa—”
He tilted my chin and fused his lips to mine before I could finish. We stood there—him ducking so his head didn’t hit the top of the tent, and me going to my tiptoes to lose myself in his kiss—as he hugged me fiercely against him, nearly hard enough to crush my soul back into my body.
It was everything I needed, and still not enough.
Our tongues danced. His towering presence made the world just the two of us. Any outside focus drowned away. No one could break this moment, or steal us from one another. I told myself, again, I have him. He’s back. Because I still could hardly believe it.
When we pulled our kiss away, begrudgingly, my breath came shallow. With my hand on his heart, I could feel the heavy drum of his pulse picking up speed.
My smile faltered and my breath hitched when a sudden, abrupt flash of memory played in my head—of the horrible thing I’d seen in that jail cell.
I tried my best to keep my smile sincere and full.
Little John knew me. He could read my face better than anyone, and he petted my head, his sad smile slowly fading. “It’s okay, Robin. It’s going to be all right. I’m going to be all right.”
I believed him. I had to. What other alternative was there? Little John was the strongest man I knew, and I wasn’t talking about his physicality.
