Now and Forever (98 page)

His chest heaved with the impact of her words. She could not know such things. No one could.

And yet, what wonderful words they were . . . .

"Think about what you said last night," she urged, "that time itself has seemed different to you since we met, as if we're living a lifetime in a matter of days. You're not imagining it, Patrick, it's
real
and I'm the reason why."

Patrick did not want to believe her, but he could no longer deny the truth. "Sweet Jesus," he said again. He saw her as if for the first time and wondered how it was he had been so blind. There was a glow about her person, a golden light that set her apart from the rest. "'Tis a fantastic story, madam, one that goes beyond the bounds of my understanding."

"I wish I could explain it to you, but all I know is that it has something to do with the balloon—they call those bright red balls hot-air balloons—and some very strange cloud cover."

Recognition hit him like a bolt of lightning. "I had seen naught like those clouds in my lifetime. They towered upward like a great dark mountain yet had no effect upon the air."

"Yes!" came a voice from the doorway. "That is how it was the morning I left. Those clouds are the key to it all."

Emilie Crosse Rutledge glided into the room.

Patrick looked from Emilie to Dakota.

"I was getting around to that part," Dakota said with an apologetic shrug. "Emilie and Zane are from the future, too."

Again his chest heaved as if struck a blow. Was there no end to this? He had worked with Zane for nearly three years and never noticed anything amiss.

Emilie considered him. "You look as if you'd seen a ghost."

"Nay, madam," said Patrick, slumping back into his chair. "'Twould be easier to understand if I had indeed seen an apparition." He gathered his thoughts into an untidy bundle. "Were you brought here against your will?" he asked Emilie.

"It was nothing I had looked for or expected," she said, meeting his eyes, "but I thank the Almighty every day for giving me the chance to live this life."

"And your husband," Patrick continued. "Was it his choice?"

Emilie nodded. "We had our chance to return a few summers ago but it was Andrew McVie who traveled through time in our stead."

"But he's back now," Dakota reminded them. "Andrew is the one who will rescue Zane and Josiah from the jail near Jockey Hollow." She groaned. "That is, he'd rescue them from the jail near Jockey Hollow if there actually
was
a jail. We're going to have to work on that part of the equation."

Emilie's eyes lit up with joy. "Andrew is back?"

Dakota nodded. "I traveled with him and Shannon."

"Please tell me he's happy. When he left he was so lonely . . . so alone."

"He's in love," said Dakota. "He and Shannon plan to be married."

Emilie's brows lifted. "This Shannon . . . is she a friend of yours?"

"A good friend."

"She'd better treat him right," said Emilie, "or she'll be hearing from me."

Dakota grinned. "I was thinking the same thing about Andrew."

"Still, that doesn't explain where Zane is being kept. You started to tell me something before," Emilie said, warming her hands near the fire. "That Abby had seen a vision or had a dream?"

Dakota met Patrick's eyes.

"It is not a pleasant vision, madam," said Patrick. "Mayhap you do not wish to know."

"I already know about the hanging, if that's what you mean. Molly told me what she knew last night." Her voice was steady but her hands trembled.

"Molly?" Patrick and Dakota asked simultaneously.

"A serving girl I met at the White Horse Tavern. Turns out she is your cook's niece. It was quite a coincidence, actually, that we met. Cook has been expecting Molly, but with the snow and all, Molly couldn't find a carriage heading this way." Emilie shot them a bemused smile. "And since I was already coming here to confront you, Patrick, I invited her along to keep me company."

"The hanging," Patrick said. "There was talk of it at the tavern?"

"They talk of everything at the taverns," Emilie said. "All I kept hearing about was the bright red ball and that it had fallen into British hands. I was so afraid it meant that Zane would—"

Patrick leaped to his feet, the future forgotten for the moment. "That is what I was told the night Zane and Josiah were taken prisoner."

"Yes," said Emilie, appraising him with her eyes. "That's the night it happened. They said the Lobsterbacks brought down the balloon and took a man and woman captive."

"Oh, my God!" Dakota felt light-headed, as if she might faint. She bent forward, resting her forehead against her knees while she struggled to draw in a breath.

"Dakota?" Patrick was at her side, his great strong hands holding her by the shoulders.

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head to banish the buzzing sound building inside her brain. "How did this Molly know about Zane and Josiah?"

"She said the tavern has been filled with talk these past few days. When I came asking questions, she put two and two together."

Something wasn't right, Dakota thought as the buzzing grew louder. But what?

"She's a sweet thing," Emilie was saying, "but she appears to be quite afraid of her aunt."

Dakota shook her head to banish the cobwebs. "Maybe it's Joseph and Will who should be afraid. Abby says that Cook makes her husband sleep on the floor when he's had too much rum."

Emilie looked at Patrick. "How long has Cook worked for you?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I cannot say with precision, but she has outlasted anyone else in my employ by some years."

"I don't trust her," Emilie said. Her tone was apologetic, her words anything but. "I can't put my finger on it, but something just isn't right with her."

Dakota disagreed. Except for her propensity for gossip, Cook seemed a harmless sort. "The only vibes I've picked up from Cook are curious ones. The woman's a born yenta."

"Yenta?" asked Patrick.

The two women laughed.

"That's a New Yorkism," said Dakota. "it means she's a real talker."

Emilie's expression turned wistful. "Somehow I never thought I'd hear the word
yenta
again as long as I lived. I miss our language."

"I miss raspberry-jelly doughnuts," said Dakota. "And toasted bagels with cream cheese."

"Pizza," said Emilie. "Pepperoni and onion."

"Big Mac, double cheese, and large fries."

"You'll like it here," said Emilie. "They're big on cholesterol"

"Aren't you homesick?" Dakota asked, leaning toward the red-haired woman. "Look at all you left behind—electricity, indoor plumbing, Haagen-Dazs."

Emilie smiled the way she was supposed to but Dakota could see she didn't quite mean it.

"I miss all that," Emilie said, "but somehow none of it seems very important to me anymore." Both women were silent for a few moments. "I was meant to be here, Dakota. I never fit in that other world."

"That's what I thought, too," Dakota said, "until I landed here."

"The moment I got here I knew I'd finally come home."

"The moment I got here I started looking for a way to go back home."

Emilie sighed. "Maybe the difference was Zane. When I realized I was pregnant with the twins, I knew this was where I was going to stay. I couldn't risk their lives, not even to go back with him."

Dakota's jaw dropped open. "He was going to leave you?"

"I'll admit I had a few bad moments when the balloon came back again. This has been a tough transition for him but I think we've managed to make it work."

"What made him stay?"

Color flooded Emilie's cheeks as she met Dakota's eyes. "Love."

"That's what I was afraid of," Dakota said. "That means I'm definitely on the next balloon out of here." The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she remembered Patrick was there, listening.

"Don't worry," said Emilie. "He left when we started talking Haagen-Dazs." Her tone made it clear how little she still thought of Patrick.

"He really
is
on our side," Dakota said. "He's been distraught over Zane and Josiah."

"He should be. This is his fault. If anything happens to them, I'll—"

"But it's not his fault, don't you see? This is history. Everything is unfolding the way it's meant to. This is Andrew's destiny. He's the one who saves your husband and Josiah, and it's going to happen very soon." The buzzing inside her head returned and she closed her eyes for a moment against a rising wave of dizziness. For a moment she imagined she could see the fabric of her skirt through the back of her hand, but then the image vanished. Maybe things were going to happen even sooner than she'd thought.

She told Emilie everything she knew, right down to the nonexistent jail in Jockey Holllow.

"I don't like the sound of this," said Emilie. Her eyes brimmed with tears. "How can Andrew save Zane and Josiah if there is no jail?" How will he find them?"

"I don't know," Dakota admitted, "but I know it's going to happen. She took Emilie's hand in hers. "How else can you and Zane end up with five children and beachfront property?"

Emilie started to laugh through her tears. "Five?"

"Five kids, a mansion in Philadelphia, a summer place in Crosse Harbor and a mention in the history books."

Emilie squeezed her hand. "From your mouth to God's ear."

#

"Where did Papa go to?" Abigail asked as Dakota tucked her into bed a few hours later. "I looked for him right after supper but he was gone."

Dakota fluffed up the child's pillow and made sure Lucy was tucked in, too. "I don't know where your papa went to, Abby, but I intend to find out."

"Are you angry at Papa?"

"I'm not happy."

"Is it because of the lady with the red hair?"

I wish it was that simple.
"Not exactly."

"Why do you want to go back in the big red ball?" Abigail asked.

No wonder she'd never been comfortable with kids. They asked the tough questions adults made sure to avoid. "Because that's where my home is."

Abigail shook her head. "No," she said emphatically. "Your home is here with us."

"Coming here was a mistake, Abby. I'm meant to be back in the world I came from."

"Your mama doesn't think so."

"How do you know what my mother thinks, honey?"

"She told me."

Ma, so help me . . .
"She told you?"

"While I was eating Cook's shepherd's pie."

"What exactly did she say?"

Abby's face grew soft and dreamy. "'Life's an adventure! Follow your heart!'" She parroted Ginny's tone so exactly that Dakota could only stare at her in utter disbelief. "She says Papa loves you and that we can be a family."

Something inside Dakota's heart shifted like tectonic plates. "I wish that was true," she said softly.

"It is!"

She couldn't speak over the lump in her throat.

"Are you sorry you came here?" the child asked.

Dakota shook her head. "I wouldn't have missed knowing you for the world."

"Then why do you want to go home again? Is it because you don't like me?"

"Oh, honey!" Dakota smoothed the girl's hair from her cheek. "I like you very much."

"You didn't like me when you first saw me."

"That's true," Dakota admitted. "And you didn't like me very much, either."

Abigail buried her face against Lucy's yarn head. "I like you now."

"I know that. And I—" She cleared her throat. The words wouldn't kill her. She could say them and still walked out that door. "And I love you."