Somewhere in Time (The Crosse Harbor Time Travel Trilogy) (31 page)

Just one night, he thought as he gazed out at the harbor. Just one night then he'd move on.

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After a few more miles of silence, Emilie leaned over and placed her hand on Zane's leg.

"Sorry I've been so disagreeable."

"I'd rather have you cranky than crying." He met her eyes. "You'll see Rebekah again. I promise you."

That brought about another few minutes of sniffling.

"You're not acting like yourself," he observed.

"Yes, I am." Her tone of voice brooked no discussion. They approached a fork in the road and he guided the horse to the path on the right.

"I think you're making a mistake," Emilie said.

He gritted his teeth. Why hadn't someone told him this was going to be the ride from hell? "The directions said to bear right."

"I think you're wrong."

"I'm the one with the photographic memory."

"And the terrible sense of direction."

Zane bristled. "I seem to recall I'm the one who found that cave again."

"That only proves you can find places the second time."

After a few more miles even Zane had to admit things were looking a little bleak. He was supposed to be watching for an ancient weeping willow tree adjacent to an abandoned well. Unfortunately there was nothing even remotely like that on the horizon.

They'd been on the road for hours. They were tired, hungry, and their butts were sore from bumping around on the wooden bench.

"I thought we were supposed to stay at an inn tonight," said Emilie.

"We are," he said, teeth still clenched.

"So where is it?"

"We're getting there."

"I don't see it."

"If you tell me to pull into a gas station and ask for directions, I'll--"

He never finished the sentence. He and Emilie took one look at each other and their anger dissolved into the kind of laughter that helped many a marriage over the rough spots.

"We're gonna be okay," he said, ruffling her hair in an affectionate gesture.

"I know," she said. But even as she said the words, she felt a pang of guilt. This was the man she loved, the man who loved her. If they were going to build a life together, he should know about the tiny life growing inside her. Waiting until they reached Philadelphia suddenly seemed ridiculous. "Zane," she began slowly, "there's something I have to tell you."

No response.

"Zane?"

She followed his line of vision. "What is it?" she asked, straining to see over the trees.

"Over there." He directed her to the right. "Do you see it?"

She felt lightheaded, chilled as if by a sudden gust of icy wind. "The lighthouse." They had to be right in the middle of latter-day Crosse Harbor.

"How the hell did I screw up like this?" he asked, jumping down from the wagon. "Only a moron could mistake east for west."

"I don't think it was a mistake."

He looked up at her. "What was that?"

She couldn't control her trembling. "Let's go," she said, her voice thin. "Let's get out of here."

"What's the matter, Em? This is as good a place as any to spend the night."

A sense of dread gripped her and would not be denied. "This could be dangerous."

He made a face. "No one expects us to be here. If anyone sees us, we're just another couple."

But they weren't just another couple. They were a couple from the 20th century.

"Come on," he said. "Let's take a look around. We didn't have time to check it out when McVie found us."

She wanted to grab the reins and speed away as fast as she could, but she couldn't do it. Not without Zane. Reluctantly she allowed him to help her from the wagon.

"This is old hat," she said as they strolled toward the water. "There are so many new things to explore. Why should we bother with re-runs?"

A rowboat bobbed at the water's edge, loosely tied to a post. If you asked Emilie, it was all too convenient.

She tugged at Zane's sleeve. "Have you seen enough?"

He headed toward the boat. "Let's row over to the lighthouse."

"We can't do that, Zane. You have a broken arm."

"So what? I'll use the left oar, and you'll use the right."

"I don't want to row across to the lighthouse."

"Then wait here."

"Why are you so interested in checking out the lighthouse? You already know what it looks like."

He stopped, considering her words. "I don't know why I'm so interested," he said slowly. "I feel--I feel drawn to it somehow."

"I don't like this," she said. "I'm getting really bad feelings about this whole thing."

Nothing she could say, however, was enough to dissuade him. She climbed into the rowboat next to him.

"Let's get it over with quickly," she said, manning her oar. The wind was picking up. Unless he intended to sleep in the wagon, they still had to find a place to spend the night.

They reached the island in record time. Zane helped her from the rowboat and she tied it to the dock.

"Look," she said, pointing to her left. "Another boat. Do you think they're manning the lighthouse again?"

"No," said a familiar voice from behind them. "We're all alone here."

Both Zane and Emilie spun around to see Andrew McVie looking at them.

"Andrew!" she exclaimed. "What on earth--?"

"I was on my way to the Blakelees," he said.

Zane met his gaze. "We were on our way to Philadelphia."

Neither man commented on the obvious, that they had both gone considerably out of their way to get there."We look like a local meeting of the New Jersey spy ring," Emilie observed, struggling to sound calm and unconcerned. "Perhaps we shouldn't be seen like this. It would only--"

She stopped. Both men were looking off toward the horizon. She followed their line of vision. Spirals of icy grey cloud cover moved swiftly toward them. She gripped Zane's arm. "I know that cloud cover," she said urgently. "That's how it looked the day it happened."

"Damn it," said Zane. "I knew I should've tried to put together a balloon. Anything that would give us a chance to--"

"Look over there!!" Andrew broke in. "Down on the beach."

"That's it!" Zane yelled over the roar of the wind. "The balloon!"

Emilie knew without looking that the balloon and the gondola were in perfect shape.

"This is our chance, Em!" Zane grabbed her by the waist and swung her around. "We've done whatever it was we were supposed to do. Our job is done and we can go home."

"It's an illusion," Emilie said, grasping at straws. "This isn't really happening."

Zane started toward the balloon with a reluctant Emilie close behind. "I was beginning to think it wasn't going to happen. This is a miracle, Em!"

No,
she thought. The miracle was that she'd ever thought they had a chance.

That icy, silver-grey cloud cover blanketed the entire island. The clouds were so low they obscured the top of the crimson hot-air balloon.

"Come on, Em. We don't have much time."

"I--I can't go."

He stared at her as if she were a stranger. "We're not going to get any second chances."

"It might be a trick. What if something happens?"

"Then at least we'll know we gave it a shot."

She shook her head. "I can't do it."

"Sure you can."

She stepped back. "Not this time." Earlier she had vowed she would follow Zane to the ends of the earth and beyond but now . . . now there was another life to protect. She couldn't risk the safety of their unborn child. Her heart ached with pain. She knew if she told him about the baby he would let that balloon fly off without him but she wanted more than that for him. She wanted him to have the life he needed in the world he knew.

"I love you," she said softly, "but I just can't do this."

He felt as if he were trapped in the middle of a nightmare with no beginning and no end. She couldn't be saying no.

"You can't stay here, Emilie," he said, as the clock ticked away the moments. "We belong together."

"Go," she said, gesturing toward the balloon. "Don't lose your chance at happiness because of me."

This way of life was harsh. Without his crutches of money and power, Zane Grey Rutledge was just another man. He wasn't sure he could make it in this strange world.

"The balloon is beginning to rise," Andrew shouted. "It's now or never!"

"What is it, Em?" Zane asked her. "Are you coming or aren't you?"

"I can't, Zane," she whispered brokenly. "Oh God, how I wish I could...."

Tossing him her embroidered purse with the money and credit cards, she ran toward the lighthouse and she didn't look back.

You did the right thing,
she thought as she threw herself down across the bed and cried as if her heart would break.
You let him make his choice without telling him about the baby.
He had the right to return to the world he knew and loved same as she had the right to opt in favor of their child. He was a man of his time who --

She tried very hard to envision a future without him, without the man she loved, the father of her child, but the landscape was dark and bleak.

All she could do was pray he would somehow find what he was looking for.

"Emilie."

She closed her eyes tightly against the imagined sound of his voice. Her mind was playing tricks on her, filling her heart and mind with the sound of Zane's voice when he was so far away from her.

But then the bed dipped low on the right and a strong arm pulled her close until her cheek rested against a broad chest that could belong only to one man. The steady beat of his heart was a benediction to her soul.

She looked at him, still not quite believing he was there. "The balloon didn't work?"

"I didn't try."

Her breath caught in her throat. "II don't understand."
Please let this be real...please let him stay here with us....

"This is home," said Zane Grey Rutledge, the man who had never understood the meaning of the word. "It doesn't matter a damn if it's the 20th century or the 18th. The only place I want to be is with you."

They were the words she'd always longed to hear but she had to be sure. "It's not too late," she said. "I want you to be happy. I--"

The thought struck them simultaneously and they raced for the window.

"Oh my God!" she whispered. "Andrew!"

There, in the wicker gondola suspended from the crimson balloon, was Andrew McVie.

"I'll be damned," said Zane as they watched the clouds wrap the balloon and gondola in their icy embrace. "He's going for it."

Tears filled her eyes. "There's so much he doesn't know...so many things he'll need to learn."

"He'll manage," said Zane, putting his arm around her as the balloon vanished from sight. "McVie's a survivor."

She shivered at the words. "I hope he makes it. The odds are against him."

He kissed the top of her head. "Is that why you wouldn't go?"

"It's a little more complicated than that."

"You like the 18th century better than the one we left behind."

"That's only part of it." She took a deep breath then met his eyes. "There's someone else to consider."

And then he wondered how it was he hadn't known. The easy tears, the secret smile, the way she looked at him as if he'd helped create a miracle. "A baby," he said, his voice filled with wonder.