The Space Between (13 page)

His first trip through that door had immersed him in a ghastly scene of blood and violence. His second, less than twenty-four hours later, had placed him in the same room, undisturbed and occupied by the lovely but frightened
Elizabeth
. Isaac didn't think there was any way someone could have cleaned up the mess he first witnessed in that short amount of time. So whatever he was experiencing — ghosts, the true past, insanity — it was moving at a rate much faster than his reality.

I could already be too late.

With this thought ringing in his mind, he rushed down the hallway, stood in position, and found the door.

Elizabeth
was on the bed with her back against the headboard. She sat in the warm glow of the oil lamp, her knees drawn close to her chest and a book resting between her hands. Her hair swept over her neck to hang down one side, tucked behind her ear on the other. The lamp was sitting on a small shelf above the bed, and the light fell upon her in the dreamy shades of a sunset. The concentration on her face as she read made her look older than before, but when she looked up at him and smiled, the added age disappeared.

"Isaac! My angel!"

She tossed the book to her bed where it flipped once and fell open.
Elizabeth
scooted on her knees across the mattress then swung her legs around to the floor. She crossed the few steps between them quickly, practically bouncing up and into his arms. He reached out instinctively to catch her, dropping the journal and bracing himself against her impact. She wrapped her arms around his neck, putting her face to his chest. His hands drifted down from her back to her waist, resting on her hips. He suppressed the shiver that threatened to shake him to the core when he felt the softness under that gown, the heat of her body. He bent his head and buried his nose into the sweet scent of her hair.

"
Elizabeth
," he sighed, letting the breath from his voice warm her skin.

"Oh, Isaac, my angel," she repeated in a whisper. She held him tighter and pressed her body against his.

Isaac brought his hands up from her waist, unable to keep them there any longer without doing something to satisfy the temptation he felt from her figure under his palms. He slid his fingers across her face, letting them gather her hair between them as he tilted her head up toward his.

"Angel? I'm hardly an angel."

Elizabeth
blushed. "I know, I'm sorry. I can't help it. This has all been so strange for me and I still believe it was God that sent you to me."

Isaac looked into her eyes and was again overwhelmed with the heartfelt devotion he saw there. This woman
loved
him. And just seeing someone as sweet and beautiful as
Elizabeth
gazing at him with such feeling made him want to return it tenfold. Perhaps some of that was his heart needing closeness again, wanting to be connected to someone on a deeper level. It really didn't matter to Isaac either way. At that moment his entire life seemed to come down to being there with her, as if he was meant to be there and couldn't escape the situation if he tried.

Elizabeth
reached up, putting his face between her silky, warm hands.

"I want to give myself to you," she whispered, pulling him down to press her lips against his for a moment. "I don't care if you are an angel or not. I want to be with you."

Isaac's knees felt weak, and he reached out to grab one of the corner posts of the bed.
Elizabeth
must have taken it as a sign to move in that direction and stepped with him. She reached out and took his hand from the post, guiding it under her chin and down to the first button of her gown. Their eyes met again, and there was no doubt of her intentions as she leaned in to kiss him, this time letting her tongue flicker out and brush against his lips.

It was more than he could stand. Memories of his nights with Emily flashed through his thoughts. He'd not felt a woman's skin against his in over a year now, and
Elizabeth
's felt as if it were searing him to the bone. His pulse pounded in his neck and head. His breathing suddenly became the only thing he could hear in the room until
Elizabeth
's staccato panting joined his. His began fumbling with the buttons on her gown while she rubbed her palms across his chest, grabbing the hem of his shirt. He paused in his struggle with the buttons to help her get his shirt up over his head. Isaac watched as she let her eyes travel across his smooth chest, down his muscled stomach and back up again.

When he had her gown open down to her belly,
Elizabeth
pushed his hands away and let the garment drop from her shoulders to the floor. She stepped out of the puddle of cloth at her feet, bringing her that much closer to him. Isaac lost his breath in that moment, her bare body standing there, bathed in the light of a single flame. He couldn't help but remember the shape of Emily's figure standing before him their first night together. She had lit a few dozen candles and the atmosphere created was eerily similar to this one. He desperately tried to force the image from his mind, but was only partially successful.

Still, he felt his excitement growing, pressing against the confines of his remaining attire.
Elizabeth
stepped forward to help him finish undressing, and soon they were entwined upon her bed, lost in a moment of passion and desire. Though it was different for each, neither had experienced such a moment before, nor would again.

§

They lay on their sides, facing each other as the sweat dried upon their love-blushed skin. Her hands were placed under her cheek, palms together, an almost imperceptible smile on her lips. Her gaze met his now and then between drifting along his face, hair, and shoulders. One of Isaac's arms stretched out over her head, and his hand played with a few strands of her golden hair while the other hand rested on her hip.

He had been gentle with her, and once she had gotten over her initial pain and trepidation, their movements had fallen into a truly wonderful rhythm of closeness that made him never want to leave that room. Isaac had watched her face as she took him in, and realized he'd never had a woman look at him the way
Elizabeth
did. She displayed such utter abandon, trust, and love all at the same time that he almost felt guilty for giving in to his desire for her. Though he felt he would do everything he needed to give her the world, he still hardly knew her. But he knew there was no denying that something special was happening, something he wouldn't have been able to deny even if his life depended on it.

It was hard to turn away from her lying there, the way she drew him in physically and emotionally, but there were important matters to discuss. If he was going to save her from the possible danger ahead, he'd have to focus.

"I need to show you something," he said, and got off of the bed to put his clothes on.
Elizabeth
frowned and stood as well, grabbing her gown from the floor next to his feet. Once they were both dressed, Isaac stepped back, extending his arms to cup her face in his hands.

"You're in danger." He released her and bent down to retrieve the journal, holding it out to her. "I think this belonged to your mother, Mary Jane."

The warmth in her gaze disappeared when he spoke the name. She appeared frightened now, if not somewhat confused.
Elizabeth
looked down at the book in his hand, then back at Isaac before taking it. She turned the journal, examining the front and back covers before opening it to read the inscription. Her eyes grew wider when she reached the first entry. Isaac saw the first tear spill from her eyes, splashing against the page, and he had no doubt that Mary Jane
Crosson
was indeed
Elizabeth
's mother.

After reading through the first few entries, she looked back up at him, her eyes red and swollen from crying. There were many questions there, none of which she seemed able to form upon her lips until he reached out for her, putting his hand on the back of her neck and gently squeezing as his other hand rubbed at the tears on her cheeks.

"Where did you get this?" she asked, her voice weak in the heavy silence of the bedroom.

He told her about the room under the barn, how he'd discovered the book sitting on the shelf of earth near the entrance. Isaac wanted to tell her about inheriting the land and his theories on how he was either insane, dealing with the dead, or visiting from the future. However, he realized any credibility he had with
Elizabeth
could instantly disappear with such talk. What woman would want to know that the man she cared for thought she was either dead or a figment of his imagination? He wasn't willing to risk finding out just yet.

He stepped to her side and took the book from her hands, opening to the last few entries. He pointed at the page, his finger shaking. He was wound up now, mostly in anticipation of what
Elizabeth
was about to discover. It couldn't be an easy thing for any mother's child.

"You need to read these last few pages."

She turned her head to glance up at him, fresh fear evident in her teary eyes. But she looked back to the journal without questioning Isaac and began to read.

It was a devastating thing to watch. He felt unexpected guilt grab hold of his insides as the lovely young woman in front of him broke into sobs. Her small frame shook and shuddered as she read of her mother's captivity and punishment at the hands of the madman that was her father. Her sobs became such moans of despair that Isaac was afraid he wouldn't be able to calm her if she read any further. But he let her continue reading, knowing it might be the only way to convince her she was in real danger.

When she was finished, she closed the journal and looked at Isaac. All of the feeling for him was gone from her eyes, replaced with a sadness so deep he didn't think her joy would ever make it back to the surface. Worst of all,
he
had brought it upon her. He began to second-guess whether it had been necessary to let her read the journal, that he could have possibly convinced her with his own words instead of putting her through that experience.

"I don't understand," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Father is a man of God. He follows His word to the letter."

Her face twisted with grief again, and she could no longer control her sobbing. Isaac sat next to her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and trying to get her to look up at him.

"You're in danger,
Elizabeth
. You need to get out of this house. Isn't there anyone who can-"

He was interrupted by a knock at the door.
Elizabeth
's eyes opened wide, fear drying her tears instantly. "It's father," she whispered, her fingernails digging into Isaac's forearm.

"Who are you talking to?" the deep voice demanded. It was followed by the unmistakable jingle of keys. Isaac heard one of them slide home, unlocking the door. The knob turned and he sat there, frozen with indecision and afraid for both Elizabeth and himself.

He looked around the room for something, anything to help him out of this mess. There was the window, but it was still boarded over. There was no place to hide except under the bed. If he chose that route and was discovered, he would have very little leverage if things got physical, and he suspected
Obediah
Willoughby would have no qualms about taking things to that level.

The door opened and he was out of time to prevent the father's discovery of him sitting there with
Elizabeth
. It didn't matter; there was nothing Isaac could have done with such limited choices. He saw the look of surprise on
Obediah's
face as the man realized there was an unexpected visitor in his daughter's locked room, a room into which no one but
Obediah
should have been able to enter. The look quickly passed into one of pure rage. The older man's jaw squared off and he showed his teeth. He closed the door behind him and his hands tightened into fists at his sides.
Obediah
charged across the room toward Isaac.

"You!" he roared, raising his hands out in front of himself, his fingers curled like talons.

Isaac knew he would either have to roll over to the other side of the bed or defend himself. Either way,
Elizabeth
's father would get to him. He chose the direct route, and rushed the man low and hard. His shoulders connected with the other man's shins, knocking his legs out from under him. As
Obediah
flipped forward, he brought two heavy arms down upon Isaac's back, causing the younger man to scream out in agony as he flattened out across the floor.

Ignoring the pain, Isaac pushed himself up and leaped for the door. He opened it to find the void, now a sight more welcome than he could imagine. He looked over at Elizabeth who sat frozen in terror, her eyes darting back and forth between him and her father.

"Come back here, you filthy bastard!"
Obediah
demanded as he twisted around on the floor and stood to face Isaac.

"I'll come back for you," Isaac said, keeping his gaze mostly on her father, but glancing once at
Elizabeth
as he spoke.

The rage evident on
Obediah's
face flared and the man lunged toward him. With no other choice but to leave her there and hope for the best, Isaac stepped into the black, the echo of
Obediah's
shock and surprise ringing behind him as he fell through the void.

§

Isaac found sleep in fitful spurts throughout the night. He had returned to his own time or dimension (having neither the ability nor energy to decide which) and was overcome by fear, adrenaline and worry. His head felt ready to explode, and his heart pounded against his ribs as he collapsed in the hallway. It took him several minutes to ride out the rush of excitement as he swallowed back saliva, his stomach threatening to unload itself with each breath. The guilt followed, and it took every bit of logic and restraint to keep from rushing right back to
Elizabeth
in hopes of saving her from whatever horrible consequences he may have just initiated with her father.