Now and Forever (81 page)

"Absolutely."

"Then you are a fool, madam, and all the more reason to keep a close eye upon your activities."

"My activities are none of your business."

He pushed open the bedroom door with the tip of his boot. "As long as we are husband and wife, they are most definitely my business."

Her pulses leaped. "I think you've lost your mind, Devane. We're strangers."

He kicked the bedroom door shut after them. "That no longer matters."

He strode toward the bed. It was big, wide, and too darned inviting.

"Don't even think about it," she warned.

"Trust me, madam." He continued through a side door and into an anteroom that was outfitted as a small bedroom, then deposited her in the middle of the feather mattress. "It is the last thing on my mind."

She scrambled to her knees, sinking into the softness. "If you think I'm sleeping in here with you, you're crazy."

"I will be in my own bed, madam, and of no danger to you."

"I want my own room."

"You cannot have it."

"Then I'll sleep downstairs with Cook."

"Where a score of suspicious soldiers in need of a woman rest as well."

"Then let me go back to the room you gave me in the first place."

"Most married couples do not sleep in separate rooms."

"But we're not married."

"They believe so."

"Look, I appreciate what you did before, pretending I was your wife and everything, but enough's enough. This joke is getting out of hand."

He gripped her by the shoulders. "You have thrown in your lot with a dangerous man, madam. They will be watching us closely."

"What do you mean, dangerous? I know you're not the friendliest guy in town, but . . . " Her words trailed offr.

"I will spend the night in the main bedroom. Your virtue will remain unassailed, madam."

That's a
good
thing
, Dakota reminded herself as he bowed and left her alone.

For a split second she'd been ready to toss reason aside and fling herself at him the way she'd previously only flung herself at Mrs. Fields' chocolate chip cookies, but twenty-six years of caution washed over her like a cold shower, bringing her back to reality.

He was a hunk. That much was a given, assuming you liked them tall, dark, and dangerous, which she did. Thank God he found her about as appealing as a kid sister or some other annoying relative you couldn't wait to get rid of.

This wasn't a romantic encounter. She was only using his house as a Colonial Motel 6, a place to crash until the snow stopped falling and she could set out to find Shannon and Andrew and the hot-air balloon that had carried them across the centuries.

So far, nothing about the experience felt right. She couldn't shake that sense of going from a Technicolor world to a black-and-white landscape. Her thoughts were chaotic and one-dimensional, her emotions were out of control, even her skin seemed as if it belonged to someone else. Shannon and Andrew had an eighteenth-century destiny to fulfill. All Dakota had was the feeling that she'd overstayed her welcome.

She'd crammed more excitement into the past twenty-four hours than the law allowed and, while she didn't regret a moment of it, she was ready to go back where she came from, back to the twentieth century with all of its problems. Back to her chaotic but loving family.

Back home where she belonged.

#

The farm

The evening seemed endless to Emilie. The twins were in a rambunctious mood, not that unusual for a pair of two-year-olds, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she finally got them put down for the night in the trundle bed by the fire.

"I know, I know," she said to Rebekah, who sat in the rocking chair, nursing her newest child. "They will not be two years old forever."

"Nay," said Rebekah, adjusting the light blanket draped across her shoulder, "they will not. By the time they have attained five or six years, you will find yourself longing for these days when they belong to you and you alone."

Tears burned behind Emilie's eyelids and she made a pretense of yawning. "It has been a long day."

"And 'twill be a longer night," Rebekah said. "I fear I do not rest well when Josiah is away."

"It is the same for me when Zane is away."

She curled up on the hearth rug near her friend and prayed the warmth would seep through to her bones and burn away the terrible sense of dread that had taken hold.

"How did you manage, Rebekah? When Josiah was in prison, how on earth did you get through the days?"

The babe in Rebekah's arms whimpered as the woman moved him to her other breast. "I had the children," she said after a long silence. "They gave meaning to my days."

"But the nights," Emilie whispered. "Not knowing where he was or if he was even alive—" She shivered violently and drew her shawl more tightly about her shoulders.

"I always knew," Rebekah said fiercely in a tone of voice Emilie had never before heard her use. "His heart beat within mine, and as long as it did, I knew we still shared the same world as before. The Almighty would not take him before his time."

Emilie arched a brow. "You believe that?"

Rebekah met her eyes. "I believe that."

"Oh, 'Bekah…" Emilie buried her face in her hands. "I'm so scared."

Rebekah murmured soothing words of comfort, much as she would for one of her many children, but Emilie was beyond their reach. Her friend thought she worried about the mission Zane and Josiah were on, but that was the least of it.

I'm afraid it's going to happen again, Rebekah. I'm afraid that bright red balloon is going to swoop down on Zane and he won't be able to resist.

It wasn't as if it hadn't happened before. She and Zane hadn't planned to make their life together in the eighteenth century. They didn't wake up one morning and say, "Hey, we're tired of the old neighborhood. Let's try 1776 on for size." The moment she had climbed into the basket of that hot-air balloon and Zane had leaped in after her, their future had rested in the hands of destiny.

And so far destiny had been kind to them. Theirs was not an easy life, but it was a good one. They had a home of their own, two healthy children, and the Blakeless, dear friends with whom to share it all. She thought of Andrew McVie and his longing for the world she'd left behind and wondered if destiny had been as kind to him, as well.

One of the twins sighed softly and Emilie rose to her feet to see if all was well. She touched her lips to her daughter's soft pink cheek, kissed the top of her son's fair head and told herself everything would be all right.

There was nothing dangerous about clouds, not even when they towered overhead like dark and forbidding cliffs. In a few hours the clouds would drift away. Zane would come home and he would climb into bed beside her and her fears would be forgotten.

Chapter Ten

"Don't mind tellin' you I've never seen a storm like this in all my born days." Cook set a bowl of oatmeal in front of Dakota and pushed a jar of molasses toward her. "Will said he fair to disappeared in a drift out by the stable this morning."

Dakota stared at the older woman in dismay. "It's stopped, hasn't it? I mean, the storm
is
over."

"Over?" Cook threw back her head and laughed. "Missy, it's like to snow 'til Christmas."

Dakota tilted the jar of molasses over her oatmeal and watched as a stream of brown goo rained down. "I don't suppose you have any Oreo cookies, do you?"

Cook looked at her, obviously puzzled. "If you give me the receipt, I'd be pleased to make them for you."

Dakota smiled up at the woman. "No matter. I don't know what made me think of them anyway." Other than the fact she felt like going on a twelve-day chocolate bender.

"Ahh," said Cook with a wink. "How long will it be?"

Dakota swallowed a spoonful of cereal-flavored molasses and grimaced. "How long will what be?" she asked, spooning up some more.

"The baby," said Cook. "The signs are plain as the nose on your face."

Dakota did a spit take the Marx Brothers would have envied. "Baby? What baby?" A few extra pounds and everyone's a critic.

"You and the mister." Her round face beamed with delight. "He's a sly fox, he is, keepin' the good news of your wedding from those of us few what care for him."

Dakota suppressed a groan. Word certainly traveled fast around Happy House. "We--umm, we were going to make an announcement tonight at dinner but I guess...I suppose--" She looked up at Cook. "How
did
you find out, anyway?"

"Soldiers talk, missy." She chuckled. "Especially when there's a wedding night involved."

"Oh God--" Who would have figured that whey-faced solder would have such a big mouth?

"Don't be shy with me," Cook admonished. "Joseph and I been married twenty-five years. There's nothing new under the sun to me."

Dakota buried her face in her hands
. Quiet, Cook! Please don't tell me that you and Joseph swing from the chandeliers.

"Wouldn't have figured you for a shy one but the world's full of surprises."

"Oh yes," said Dakota, choking back a laugh. "The world's definitely full of surprises."

"So when is the little one due?"

"I don't...I mean--" She struggled to find the right words.

"There, there." Cook patted her on the shoulder. "An early baby's something to celebrate."

Dakota took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "I'm not with child, Cook."

The woman's face fell. "Don't you be worryin', missy. 'Twill happen before you know it."

No, it won't,
Dakota thought. She could travel through time but she couldn't do the one thing that every woman on earth took for granted. It seemed such a simple thing. A man and woman come together and from their love a child was conceived. Rich or poor, smart or slow. It didn't matter. The miracle was there for the asking.

But not for Dakota.

Each time she thought she had moved beyond the pain, it rose up from deep inside her soul and stole her breath away. Such a small thing to ask from life. And so impossible.

"I hope you wouldn't be holding it against me," Cook was saying. "All that talk about the other missus."

"Of course not," Dakota said, cheeks flaming. "You were only answering my questions."

She pushed her chair back from the table and rose to her feet. Her ankle still throbbed and she wished she had some Advil. She thought about Shannon and the bulging tote bag she'd brought with her on the hot-air balloon and wondered what latter-day miracles she'd managed to pack.

"Have you seen Abigail?" she asked, pushing away thoughts of her friend.

Cook nodded. "She gobbled up her breakfast and went outside to watch the soldiers set up camp."

"We have not told her yet about our...marriage. We think it best to wait until she gets to know me a bit better."

Cook winked at her. "Don't you be waitin' too long, missy. Better she hears it from you and the mister."

Better I throw myself into a snowdrift,
Dakota thought as she made her way down the hall toward the library. This was a terrible thing to do to a kid, even one as feisty as Abigail. Her mother was a bolter. Her father was as demonstrative as a hollow log. The best thing that could happen to the kid would be to go off to school and bond with a group of other lonely kids who'd provide the family she needed.

 
Not that it was any of her business. Abigail could go off and join the circus for all she cared. And Devane could declare himself the next king of England. She didn't belong there and she wasn't going to stay one moment longer than necessary.

You didn't feel that way when you thought he was about to kiss you.

"Baloney," she muttered. She knew a business kiss when she got one. He'd been trying to shut her up so she didn't tell the soldiers they really weren't married. Although why he'd told them that in the first place was beyond her. Saving her sorry fanny wasn't his first priority.