Stranger in Camelot Read Online Free PDF Page B

foxes.”
    “And he studied Latin? He sounds fascinating.”
    Aggie nodded again. “He loved books. Funny, a grizzled old horse rancher and retired army captain, and he could speak Latin. It was like living with a retired Roman cavalry officer. Grandpa was unique.”
    She was silent, looking up at John thoughtfully and wondering how he’d managed to loose such personal information. And after she’d told him to hit the road.
    “I’m sorry about the campground,” she repeated. “Really.”
    “Sssh. I appreciate your concern, but there’s no harm done.” He had a subdued but understanding expression on his face. “If you could recommend another camping area I’d be grateful.”
    “Sure.” Aggie reminded herself that there were too many strange coincidences about him—his being English and a medieval history buff. Fumbling with her bandanna, she pulled it off and twisted it in her hands. She didn’t need the worry. Or the temptation to confide in him about the books. Too much was at stake.
    “Could I help you feed your mares?” he asked. “I enjoy working with horses.”
    Aggie was relieved by the change of subject. “Sure!”She smiled up at him, lost herself in his gaze for a second, then turned her attention to gathering her hair at the nape of her neck and tying it with the bandanna. “You must have been around horses a lot. You ride like an expert.”
    He chuckled, the warm, deep sound pulling at her blood. “Many years ago I was an alternate on the British equestrian team. I nearly made it to the Olympics.” At her astonishment, he chuckled. “But ‘nearly’ is nothing to brag about.”
    “Of course it is! I can imagine how much competition there was to become an alternate. You must have been wonderful!”
    He shrugged. “It was a long time ago. I was barely out of Oxford.”
    “Oxford? Now I’m even more impressed.”
    “It’s a college, like any other.”
    “Right. And Van Gogh was just a one-eared painter.”
    “You’re very sweet.” He looked at her with a mixture of charm and intrigue that made it difficult to remember why she wanted him to leave. His hazel eyes could be so vibrant. “Agnes, would you go out to dinner with me this evening? Anyplace you’d like. I don’t know St. Augustine. You choose.”
    “I have to work. It’s Thursday, isn’t it?” She stopped to think, embarrassed at her confusion. He’d turned her brain to sand. “Yeah, Thursday. I’m a bartender at the Conquistador Pub, Thursdays to Sundays.”
    “Agnes, you’re a very difficult woman to charm.” His teasing was mild. This man didn’t sulk. “But I respect your hard work. Would you be annoyed if I dropped by the pub tonight? If you’re in the mood, we could go to an all-night diner after you finish your shift.”
    “I don’t finish until two A.M.”
    “I could swear I’m not bowling you over.”
    “You’re only passing through. I don’t get involved with tourists. I don’t date very much, period.”
    He clasped his chest. “It’s bad enough to fail at winning your heart, but now I can’t even console myself! Couldn’t you have told me you’re devoted to another man? You have to be faithful to your one true love? Otherwise you’d give in to your desperate desire for me?”
    Aggie laughed and started toward the pasture. “Look at it this way. I’m faithful to my bank balance, and it doesn’t approve of me taking time off to play.”
    “But I’m very serious about my playing. My work is play, you know. Model airplanes, model cars—toys for grown-ups. I could teach you to play as if it were a business. You wouldn’t have to feel guilty.” She kept walking, shaking her head at his nonsense, and laughing. “Wait!” he called in an exasperated voice. “I’ll change clothes and come with you.”
    “I don’t know where the gals are this morning. They’re usually standing out here looking hungry by now.”
    While he went back in the barn she stood by the pasture gate, staring