The Will of Time Page 21

  Hettie began to clear dishes from the table, and Leia moved to help her. A crystal tumbler nearly crashed to the floor as Leia tried to balance dishes and dilemmas. Surely as strong and smart as Brant was he could find work after the war. Hadn't she read about the workers needed for reconstruction? Even more surely, the McGarlands were going to need help right here getting the farm back in working order. Unfortunately, Brant's pride might not accept that solution.

  "Jason, could I speak with you a moment? Outside?" Leia asked as he finished his meal, joining the clean plate club.

  "Certainly," he said, rising and folding his white napkin.

  "I'll follow you," he added, nearing her at the door. She saw Brant throw Jason a cold look, but she left the room anyway. Some things just needed to be said.

  They turned left from the dining room and went straight out through the front door.

  "We need to talk," Leia began, settling herself on the porch railing. She held onto a post, and laid her head against the wood also for support.

  "You're right," he agreed, hopping onto the railing beside her. "Do these people have all of their conversations on porches?"

  She smiled. "Well, it's private." The evening air had cooled, and a drying breeze blew across the front of the house, dragging the scent of fragrant, ripe honeysuckle with it.

  "Don't you miss the privacy of your own home and time, Leia?" Jason's voice grew serious. The hum of summer crickets began beyond the porch.

  "God, yes! Sometimes I just about go nuts with so many people around all the time."

  "Then why are you still here?"

  "Isn't it obvious?"

  "Not really, unless you mean you haven't been able to get back."

  Leia began swinging her feet back and forth, kicking playfully at lightening bugs. "Remember when we used to catch them?" she asked, closing her eyes to see the memory.

  "Yeah. We had a lot of fun as kids."

  "And you, Jason Maxwell, you pulled them apart and made light rings out of their little bodies." She sat up straight, her eyes open and accusing.

  "But I always gave the rings to Sara and you," he said softly.

  "I know you did. But you still had to hurt the poor, innocent bugs. You had to own them, control them."

  "We're not talking about lightening bugs anymore, are we?"

  "I don't think so."

  He stood, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I intend to go back, Leia."

  She nodded. "I know. I think you're supposed to go back. Maybe I'm not. After all, I haven't found the way back. And believe me, I've tried."

  He swatted at mosquitoes. "Damn bugs."

  "Jason, listen to me. I love Brant. If it's possible, I'm going to stay here with him. I want you to take care of the house, but don't sell it. Perhaps if I'm gone ten years, you could sell it."

  "But it's being auctioned off on the first of the month. I can't stop it. You know that." He let his arms drop to his sides and walked over to her.

  "But I'm married! I made the deadline." Leia let her voice trail off, aware of how silly her statement was. No one in the twentieth century knew she was married.

  He stood directly in front of her, looking into her eyes. He stared, not mentioning the obvious facts about the situation. There was no need for him to speak.

  A single tear squeezed past Leia's resolve. Was there no way for her to have her love and her home? With a tired glance around the front yard, she noted that none of the fireflies were lighting up. The night was dark.

  Leia realized they had been outside longer than they should have when they came in to see Torin disappearing through the cellar door. She caught sight of Torin's blue coat from the corner of her eye. Without a word, Jason followed him.

  "Where are they going?" she asked, not to anyone in particular.

  "Oh, Torin's hunting for brandy," MaryKatherine said. "Patrick's teased the men with a hidden bottle somewhere." She hauled an armload of dishes through the kitchen door.

  "Let's help them," Belle suggested, her voice tinged with excitement.

  Leia nodded and followed Belle through the door. Martha and Patrick had just retired to the front porch to take advantage of the cool air, passing Leia and Jason on the way in, so only she, Belle and Brant remained.

  "Brant, are you coming?" Leia asked, pausing at the top of the dark staircase.

  He reached for his cane. "Yes," he said, but his voice was low and raw.

  Leia saw his face had a closed expression, as if he was hurt. Perhaps he was upset that she'd been outside, alone, with Jason. She also knew he feared she'd disappear from his life through the portal. He followed her, though, like a dutiful husband, closing the cellar door behind them.

  The brandy-seekers were plunged into darkness, their path lit only by Torin's whale-oil lamp. Belle seemed nervous, clicking her teeth, still clutching Jason's arm.

  Torin looked up from his position at the wine rack. "You all needn't come down. I can find it. Brant, take your wife upstairs, for heaven's sake. Jason, you're a guest, take Belle back to the parlor."

  "And let you have first crack at Patrick's special brandy? No way, Jose," Jason said, ignorant of the strange looks his words received in the dark.

  Leia held her breath as Torin checked many of the slots still holding bottles. Sure enough, he pulled out the bottle from the corner spot where Leia had hidden her message. A faint gasp escaped her lips, despite her efforts.

  "What's wrong, Leah?" Torin asked, examining an empty bottle.

  Leia relaxed and touched Brant's arm. She was relieved the message was gone, but who had found it? Brant must have read her thoughts, perceptively covering her hand with his.

  "Nothing. I'm fine," she said. Did someone in the future now have her message? Martin? Sara? Someone trying to buy her home? With a sigh, Leia started to turn, but her eyes caught a glimpse of something light colored in another bottle. After grabbing the wine bottle, she turned and faced what she believed was the opposite end of the basement, away from the stairs. She saw a horizontal line of light, about three feet wide. Then, about six feet below it, another line appeared in the dark, making a giant equals sign. Though faintly visible, to her, it was neon.

  She tugged on Brant's sleeve, her stomach tightening in fear. "Look, Brant," she urged, turning him toward the image. The entire group turned, anxious to see something unique. To her chagrin, Torin and Jason moved toward the light.

  On impulse, Leia looked back over her shoulder to where she thought the staircase should be. Of course, she was wrong. There was only one way to go. She, Belle and Brant followed the others toward the steps. Jason and Torin had climbed them; Torin also clutching a bottle of something. Their footsteps thudded on the wooden steps, echoing softly from the openness. When he yanked open the cellar door with his free hand, something electrical settled around Leia and she gasped again. Had anyone else felt it?

  "Torin, wait!" she called, wanting, needing to stop them. Suddenly it felt imperative that she stop them. The force hovering in the air challenged them to change history, to disturb the time line, but it was temptation, and who knew if the portal was good or evil? She watched the two men move, almost in slow motion, but they were through the door way too quickly. Light from the other side was flickering, beckoning, like a scene from a horror movie. Leia was frozen on the bottom step, clutching the railing in one hand and pushing against Brant's chest with the other.

  The door slammed closed behind Jason, shaking the stairs and railing under Leia's damp palm. She could smell the musty air encircling them. The charge dissipated.

  "Did you feel that?" she whispered to Brant.

  He nodded, squeezing her hand.

  "Wait for me." Belle laughed, as if they were playing a game, but Leia knew better. The lighted outline faded, the cellar blackened. When Belle, acting like a team mate left behind, pulled on the closed door, she found it locked.

  Chapter 15

  "I don't know where my boyfriend is," Sara said, sighing in exas
peration. "He's off somewhere, probably working on some new deal, and the owner of the house is still missing. And even when she returns, the house may not be auctioned off at all. So please, consider this project offer withdrawn."

  Smiling, Sara pulled two scraps of paper from her purse. One contained a cryptic message, presumably from Leia. She'd found it in the cellar, in a wine bottle, of all places. The other held the phone number of the charity that had offered Jason property for development. She dialed the number in Pennsylvania on Leia's rotary phone, pulling her finger from each number's spot sharply, as if pricked. A sense of purpose filled her. She knew she was doing something special for her friend.

  "Hi, this is Sara Smith. May I speak with Sister Delia?" She listened to the receptionist. "Then may I leave a message? Okay, please tell Sister that Jason Maxwell agrees to her offer for the Pennsylvania property, including the stipulations about profit donations and volunteer work."

  She hung up, feeling more cheered than she had in weeks. She straightened the kitchen and stuffed the paper back into her purse. Not only had she helped Leia, but dozens of children would also benefit from some of the money Jason would make developing the Church's property. And wouldn't Jason actually enjoy spending some time with the kids on weekends? Any minute, a half-dozen grown kids, male war re-enactors, would be assembled on the front porch for photos. Sara looked forward to seeing them decked out in her uniforms they would model in the show. Now that she'd seen to Jason's business, she could worry about her own.

  "Oh, hi there. Why didn't you leave with the others? You're going to be late for dress rehearsal at the auditorium," Sara said to the young man she found in Leia's hallway, stopping in mid-motion, her car keys dropping to her side with a jingle. He was absolutely gorgeous, she thought, and wondered how she had overlooked him in the group photo. The man was staring at her with unabashed awe, his brown eyes wide, sensual mouth gaping.

  A blur of red hair passed through the hall as Jason emerged from the kitchen. He paused in front of Sara. "Hey, I found her."

  "Where have you been?" she demanded, temporarily forgetting the other man.

  "Sara, I'm trying to tell you. I found Leia."

  "What?"

  "The bitch somehow got herself married...to his brother," Jason said, pointing a finger at the uniformed stranger.

  "Torin Douglas, ma'am," he said, smiling.

  "Well, where is she?" Sara looked from one man to the other, confused and irritated. Was this some sort of game? Leia was married?

  Jason spoke slowly, as if he dreaded each word. "From what I have seen, your friend is right here in this house...but in 1863. It's some kind of time warp. Her husband's a Union soldier, along with his brother here."

  Jason and Sara turned to look at Torin, who was smiling. Sara looked closer at his uniform. Not only had she not worked on it, the fabric was dirtier and more coarse than anything she had done for the show. The buttons were thicker, different.

  "And what year is this?" Torin asked in a pleasant voice.

  Sara couldn't take her eyes off of him. "You really don't know?" she asked, tapping her keys against her thigh.

  "Not only do I not know, but I've never seen any woman with hair as red as yours, like flames licking around, no, dancing around, your face," he said, taking a step toward her.

  Sara wondered if he meant to touch her cheek and self-consciously pushed a few strands of hair behind her ears. She saw Jason stiffen, slightly, from the corner of her eye, and heard him mumble something unpleasant. "It's okay," she whispered. Why didn't Jason get jealous and say something? Didn't he care about her? Silly question, she thought. He wanted Leia now. I've got to get out of here.

  "What's your name?" Torin asked.

  "Sara. Miss Sara Smith." She caught Jason's frown, but didn't care. This man, whoever he was, this incredibly boyish, handsome man was staring at her in apparent fascination...and he liked red hair. Sara was torn between talking with this man and learning about Leia from Jason.

  She tilted her head. "Are you trying to tell me that you're from the past?" she asked, unknowingly making her decision.

  "Well," Torin said, looking around the hallway adorned with photos of modern houses in plastic frames, lit by electric bulbs. "I am, if this is the future."

  After Jason stomped out to his office, Sara wondered if he remembered how he was dressed. It would do him good, she thought, to have to explain his Civil War attire to a bunch of stuffy old Realtors.

  Torin explored the world of television in the parlor, and that miracle invention known as the remote control. She enjoyed watching him discover technology, but right now she couldn't spare the time. Dress rehearsal was due to start in ten minutes, and she was at least twenty minutes away.

  Despite Jason's testimony and the evidence of Leia's note, Sara couldn't quite accept that this man had materialized from the past, but, she did like his enthusiasm and old-fashioned charm.

  When she jingled her car keys, he looked up at her from a rerun of Married, With Children.

  "I'm sorry, am I delaying you?"

  Sara winced as Bud Bundy pleaded with God for a real woman with bigger breasts. "Well, I do have to get to town. I'm directing a show, actually, we're modeling Civil War fashions." She blushed. How stupid that sounded when spoken to Torin. She moved further into the room, reaching for the remote.

  "Don't be embarrassed," he said, reaching for the black controller first and clicking the set off. "I must admit, you look lovely with a glowing blush...and you do have great hooters."

  Definitely blushing by this time, Sara turned and spied the shelf where she had last seen one of Leia's glass pieces. Although the set had been missing for weeks, there were now five items on the shelf, as if waiting to be cleaned and put on display in the cabinet. Had Jason brought them back with him? She moved to the shelf, touching the champagne glass, flask, dish and candlesticks. The blue bottle, unique in its squatty shape, was her favorite. Shaking her head, Sara turned back to her guest.

  "Are you admiring those pieces?" he asked.

  Sara nodded. "Yes. I've never seen them before."

  "I have seen the bottle before. Brant found it, and gave it to his wife. Seems he broke a good many pieces she had collected, and wanted to make amends. I think they found the other items together. They're hard to find, you know. The war's destroyed much of the artistic things, especially delicate things such as glass. Or humans." A sad note pierced his voice.

  Sara struggled with the idea that these things were items Leia had acquired in the previous century. "I'll figure this out later. Torin, would you like to come with me? I mean, you'd fit right in with the others in costume. And we could talk some more in the car."

  "Car?" He was interested.

  "Like a carriage, you know, but no horses. A machine makes it go."

  "Does it have remote control?" He was definitely male.

  "No, I have to drive it," she said, brightening. This could be fun. "Let's go, Torin, we have a show to do."

  Belle had been unnerved. Leia found herself pleased at the thought, happy that the woman had left last night. Not that they all hadn't been freaked out. Jason and Torin were nowhere to be found...nowhere in 1863, that is. For some reason, they had been allowed to leave through the portal. Who was the determiner? God? Fate? Or magic?

  Another thought crossed her mind...Since Jason had most likely made it forward in time, would he tell Mr. Sanders that she was married? Leia wanted to think he would, but in her heart, she knew she was kidding herself. Jason, despite his kind words to her, would try to take control of the house. She would have to accept the fact that, unless she could return to the twentieth century within the next three days, her home would be lost. Fat chance!

  "Are you sorry that he's gone?" Brant had come outside without a sound, joining her without her noticing. She smiled at his striking face, but then his question hit her as if she'd been struck.

  "Do you mean Jason?" How could he not? She stroked the head of the mutt
at her feet, a scruffy, dirty dog that had wandered up during the night. "Of course not."

  "Who's your friend?" Brant asked, bending down to scratch the animal's head.

  "Oh, just a stray, like me. Isn't he cute?" Leia continued to sift the dog's hair with her fingers, trying to smooth out rough tangles. "I used to see a lot of dogs in houses I appraised. Just like people, some were mean, some were nice. But this one seems so alone. And such a mess! I think I'll call him Scruffy."

  Brant smiled. "I'm sure Hettie will be thrilled with your guest. Do you think he'll stay here long?"

  "Never can tell. He may be from the future," she said, trying for a deeper response from her husband. She was tired of this small talk, and wanted to discuss what had happened last night.

  "Leia."

  "No."

  "Pardon me?"

  "No, I won't miss Jason one bit. After our conversation last night, I realized he never was really interested in Sara or me, not unless he controlled us and our possessions. So I don't have to feel bad about hurting him anymore." She sighed. "I'm sorry that Torin's gone, though."

  "He'll be fine."

  "I know. In fact, I have a feeling he will find what he's looking for in the future." Belle had not understood, but Brant and Leia knew where Torin had gone. They had shuffled back to the center of the basement last night, taking baby steps in the dark. At last they had found their way, connected like an inch worm, to the staircase they needed, the staircase back to 1863.

  "You could have gone with them," he said, a quiet offering.

  "No, I don't think so. Because I'd have to be really sure I wanted to go, and how could I be? I think my life's here now. My place is with my husband, whom I happen to be in love with. I have MaryKatherine, who's become a good friend, and there's Hettie's reading lessons, and now there's Scruffy."