Creighton Manor

Creighton Manor By Karen Michelle Nutt Creighton Manor 3 Native Americans believe animal guides enter our lives depending on the direction one is headed and what needs to be done to complete the journey. The main guardian totem animal is with a person for life, both in the physical and the spiritual world. The connection may be shared through dreams, interest in the animal or other interaction. The dog is a guardian of mankind. It is believed the dog possesses psychic gifts because of their ability to detect subtle energy frequencies that man cannot detect. If a dog appears in your life, let the animal guide your footsteps. Your life may depend on it. Creighton Manor 5 Dedicated always to Greg, Kendra, Katrina and Vincent, who are my heart and soul. A special dedication to Tyler Kenley and Cayla Mosier. And to the memory of Cassie, the inspiration for the lovable mutt, Molly. 6 Karen Michelle Nutt CHAPTER ONE Gillian opened the hatch to her Xterra and tossed her friend’s leopard-print suitcase in back with her luggage. She caught Samantha eyeing her, as she pretended to secure her long blonde hair in a ponytail. Gillian recognized the look. She had endured them all week from others who were convinced she suffered a mental breakdown. “Go ahead, say it.” Gillian slammed the hatch shut and faced Samantha. “Say what?” She shrugged, her brown eyes widening in innocence. “Oh come on. I know you think I’m pathetic.” “Not pathetic. Maybe a little confused.” “I’m not confused.” Gillian walked to her side of the SUV and unlocked the doors. Samantha jumped in and turned toward her. “Really, you aren’t confused? I can’t name anyone who calls off their wedding two days prior to the happy event.” “I’m sure there is someone in the world.” “Be serious, Gillian.” She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. “I should be on my honeymoon, but instead, I’m taking you.” “Gee thanks.” “You know what I mean, Samantha. I never cancelled the hotel reservation aboard the Queen Mary. I took it as a sign that I should leave town for a few days and let the full impact of what I’ve done sink in.” “What you’ve done is beyond my understanding. You shopped for the perfect dress and planned a beautiful wedding, but then you threw it all away. Why did you do this to yourself? Why did you put Jerry through it, too? He didn’t deserve the embarrassment you caused.”

“Yeah well, the alternative could have been worse. I could have married him.” Samantha shook her head. “You aren’t making any sense.” “I know.” She sighed, but she didn’t say anymore. She put the key in the ignition and roared the engine to life. Jerry Avery worked at Hoag Hospital in Newport Beach, a successful surgeon with a bright future. The man stood six-two. He was gorgeous with his sandy-blond hair and naturally tanned good looks. He had a toned body: flat stomach, wide chest, and muscled biceps. To top it off, he couldn’t be a nicer person. For this reason alone, she had to let him go. Gillian adjusted her rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of her auburn hair that she’d trimmed and layered for the wedding. You did the right thing, she reminded herself. Gillian forced a smile in Samantha’s direction. “You ready?” “Okay, Queen Mary, here we come.” Samantha snapped the seatbelt into place. Gillian headed toward Long Beach, deciding to take surface streets to avoid the out of town traffic on the freeway. Samantha’s heavy gaze weighed down on her. She knew round two of the interrogation loomed in her future. Samantha didn’t disappoint her. “I’m worried about you.” Gillian glanced at her. “I’m fine.” “Yeah, then tell me truthfully, just between you and me. Why did you call off your wedding?” “It's complicated.” She chewed on her lower lip, wishing she could justify her drastic decision, but frankly, she didn’t have a good reason. At least, not one that anyone but herself would accept. With all honesty, she did feel a connection with Jerry. They’d hit it off from the start. She considered him one of her closest friends and she loved him, but she wasn’t in love with him. Someone else stood in the way. Only she hadn’t met him yet. Yes, she knew the statement sounded crazy, but she couldn’t dismiss the dreams. She hadn’t been brought up to believe in past lives, but sometimes she felt she had known this man before and she would find him again. All she had to do was bide her time. She dreamt about his touch, his voice that caressed her with an endearment: Grá mo chroi. She had no idea what the words Creighton Manor 7 meant, but she knew they were spoken from the heart. The words were precious to her, the special incantation to finding him. If only when she dreamt, she could see his face clearly, but his features escaped her once she opened her eyes. “Gillian, are you all right?” Samantha asked, breaking through her reverie.

Gillian shook her head. “Please understand that I had no other choice.” “Okay,” Samantha said carefully. Gillian rolled down her window letting in the ocean breeze. She cranked up the volume on the radio. One of her favorite Rascal Flatts’ tunes blasted through the speakers. Samantha promptly turned it off. “You can't get out of telling me what’s going on that easily.” Samantha had been her friend since the first grade. They had laughed and cried on each other’s shoulders; shared the joys along with the sorrows; and they had disclosed their secrets and dreams. Gillian shifted uncomfortably in her seat, pondering why she couldn't confide in her now. “You want to know, but you aren't going to like it. You'll probably laugh.” Samantha raised her hand to her chest in a mock pretense. “I'm genuinely hurt.” Gillian chewed on her lower lip again, debating. Just confess. Get it all off your chest. Who knows maybe she’d feel better if she did. “Do you remember the dreams I’ve been having? You know the one about the guy.” Samantha’s brows furrowed. “The dreams with the man who speaks to you in a foreign language? Yes, I remember them and why are your bringing them up?” Gillian didn’t answer, already having second thoughts about telling Samantha the truth. She never understood how important the dreams were to her. She cringed as she waited for Samantha to blast her. “Oh no. Don’t tell me you called the wedding off because of those dreams! What could you be thinking? That dream-man is a fantasy you have concocted in your mind. It has nothing to do with reality.” Gillian glanced at her friend, pleading for her to understand. “He's out there. I just have to find him.” “And Jerry didn’t have someone pick you up with a special white jacket? Good God, do you know how crazy you sound?” “Thanks, and no, I didn’t tell him about the dreams. I told him I had met someone else.” “Why did you do a thing like that? There isn't anyone else. The dream-man doesn't count because he doesn't exist.” Gillian glared straight ahead and pierced her lips together. “Okay, at least, as far as we know,” Samantha patronized her. “I'm aware he might not exist. I haven't completely lost my mind. However, if I didn't tell Jerry I

had found someone else, he would have wanted to continue to wait for me. I couldn't be unfair to him. Don't you see? He deserves so much more. He deserves to have someone love him the way he should be loved. If I married him, we both would have been miserable.” Samantha's mouth dropped open with disbelief. “Listen Gillian, you need to make this right with Jerry. He’s good for you. He’s the real deal. Take it from me I know. I have a trail of disastrous relationships behind me with men who have treated me like dirt. So don’t tell me you threw away a perfectly wonderful man for one who visits you in your dreams.” Gillian gripped the steering wheel, wishing she had just kept her big mouth shut. “I shouldn’t have told you.” Samantha sighed. “I care so much about you, and I want you to be happy, but—” “Then be happy for me. I will find the man I am looking for. I know he's out there.” She took her eyes off the road to look at Samantha. “He's—” “Watch out!” Samantha screamed. Gillian slammed on her brakes, sliding to a halt as a dog streaked across their path to the safety of the sidewalk. The cars behind her swerved around them as they laid into their horns. “I believe, I lost a few years off my life,” Samantha gasped, holding onto the dashboard. 8 Karen Michelle Nutt Gillian pulled alongside a parked car and flipped on the hazard lights before she jumped out of the SUV. “Where are you going?” Samantha yelled as she followed suit. “It’s the dog,” she called over her shoulder. “What?” Gillian halted when the dog turned and looked at her or so she thought. “It’s been following me and—” The dog barked, drowning out her words. The mutt looked to be a mix of some type, shaped like a basset hound, but its ears were short and the coloring a reddish-brown. The mutt barked again, but didn’t approach. “How strange,” Samantha commented. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say the dog is trying to communicate with you.” Gillian nodded. “The first time I saw the dog was in front of my apartment, then at school. It trotted into my classroom as if it belonged there. It took all I could to shoo the animal out and calm the kids down again. The principal and one of the other teachers tried to catch it, but it managed to

slip away.” “You’re sure it’s the same dog?” Samantha asked, mystified over the animal’s odd behavior. “I’m sure.” Gillian moved toward the barking animal. She hadn’t gone very far before the dog turned, trotting off in the opposite direction. “Hey, come back.” Gillian started to go after it, but Samantha’s words reeled her back in. “What do you think you’re going to do? Chase the dog through town?” Gillian’s gaze followed the animal as it weaved in and out of pedestrians. A part of her wanted to ignore Samantha and find out where the dog would lead her. It seemed imperative she catch the animal, and yet she couldn’t understand her urgent need to do so. Maybe she really was suffering from a nervous breakdown after all. She glanced at Samantha whose brown eyes were looking upon her with pity. Gillian shrugged and braved a smile. “You’re right. What was I thinking?” *** As she turned into the parking lot, Gillian fixed her eyes on the Queen Mary permanently docked at Pier J in Long Beach, California. The old ship had started her career as a luxurious ocean liner that catered to the needs of every passenger. Chefs were brought in to prepare lavish dishes to be served in the largest dining salon ever built. During World War II, she transported over 800,000 troops as well as passengers and refugees. In her heyday, people from every walk of life sailed together, enjoying her finery. Once inside, Samantha headed for the restroom, while Gillian signed the registry. The girl, named Tara according to her nametag, looked up from her computer. “Hmm, I’ll need to check with my manager about this. I’ll be right back with your key.” A few minutes later, Tara returned with the hotel manager, a short, balding man named Mr. Sommers. He straightened his tie and cleared his throat three times before he spoke. “Miss Metcalf, I don't know how to say this.” Mr. Sommers frowned at Tara before looking at her again. “There’s been a mix-up with your room. We have the Scottish Society this weekend and all our staterooms seem to be booked, except for … well … uh …” “Really, it doesn’t matter,” Gillian hurried to say. She couldn’t believe it. After they had called her to confirm the reservation, now it wasn’t available. “Is something wrong?” Samantha had returned from the restroom to join her.

The manager and the receptionist exchanged an uneasy glance. “Do you believe in ghosts?” Mr. Sommers asked. “Pardon me?” Gillian chuckled. “Did you say ghosts?” Samantha piped in. “Yes. I wouldn’t even mention it, but it is hotel policy to do so. You see the only stateroom unoccupied is the one that is allegedly haunted.” Creighton Manor 9 Gillian knew they offered ghost tours, but she hadn’t thought anyone believed they were true accounts. Seemed a little extreme, but maybe this was all part of the fun. Tara decided to help her manager explain. Gillian had the impression he wished she hadn’t. “Did you know that the psychic Mable Fortescue-Harrison predicted the Queen Mary would know its greatest fame when she no longer sailed? It’s true. The ship is now listed on the National Register of Historic Places. It contains the Hotel Queen Mary with 365 restored original First Class staterooms, and … ” She leaned close for this as if she feared they would miss her words. She flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. Her bright blue eyes widened for the effect and her voice lowered to a hushed whisper. “She’s considered haunted.” Mr. Sommers cleared his throat. “Of course we will automatically include the haunted encounter tickets, dinner and the ghostly cocktail in the observation bar, at no additional cost.” Gillian and Samantha stared at the two Queen Mary employees wondering if they were serious. When no one laughed, Gillian realized this wasn’t a joke. “Sure, that will be fine.” She took the key from the manager and his expression relaxed. “Am I guaranteed to see a ghost?” she joked. Tara took the question seriously. “Absolutely, there are artifacts from this riverboat, the Ida Belle and ever since we received the items this cute little—” the manager nudged her and she fell silent. “It’s all in fun,” the manager chuckled. “Right.” Gillian looked to the manager then to Tara who shrugged. As they headed for the stairs, Gillian turned toward Samantha. “Did you find their behavior odd?” “You think? They just told us the Queen Mary is haunted and if I didn’t know better, I would say they believed it.” She laughed. “Give me a break. They’re just promoting their ghost tours. You’re not scared are you?”

“Well yeah,” Gillian claimed. “And you would be wise not to make fun of the dead.” “I’ll keep that in mind. I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink. Let’s get rid of our bags and head over to the observation bar.” *** The ghostly cocktail proved to be potent on an empty stomach. Gillian felt a little woozy. She leaned near Samantha, who was talking to a couple they met from Canada. They’d been on the ghost tour before and told them what to expect. The whole theatrical endeavor spooked her, but Samantha seemed excited over the prospect of seeing an apparition. “I’m going to go back to the room. I want to change into something a little more comfortable.” Gillian had worn her blue sundress and cute sandals to match, but thought it might be wiser if she wore her tennis shoes for the excursion. After dinner, a paranormal host would show them where the vortex was located. Supposedly ghostly activity had been detected there. “Do you want me to go back to the room with you?” Samantha asked. “No, I’m fine. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” “Sure.” Gillian changed into her designer sweats: The midnight black one with lace trim. It flattered her slim figure, hugging all the right curves. The top had rhinestone buttons and a lace collar. The hem of the top hit right at the bellybutton and the material was soft, lightweight and comfortable. It was a great workout outfit, but fancy enough to wear out. She slipped on her Nikes and was ready to go. As she turned on the light near the bed, she glanced up at the framed photograph on the wall. It depicted a family standing in front of a riverboat, but the family wasn't what had caught her attention. “The dog. It can’t be.” It was uncanny how similar the markings were: Short eared, squat basset hound appearance. She leaned closer looking for something, which might identify the date of the black and white print, but she could detect nothing. Judging by the clothing the family wore it had to be about the mid to late 1800’s. Obviously, the dog in the photo couldn't possibly be her mutt. She stared at the photo a moment longer. An inkling of recognition hit her. “I know this picture.” She couldn’t place why. She’d have Samantha take a look at it and see if she had any ideas. 10 Karen Michelle Nutt

Gillian grabbed her room key and purse before she opened the door to her cabin. She took a step only to jump back in surprise. “What in the world.” She stood face to snout with the mutt who’d been following her. It sat there on its haunches as if it had been waiting for her. Gillian’s gaze riveted to the photo half expecting the mutt to be missing from the picture. The mutt stood and barked, drawing her attention. It wagged its reddish-brown tail before turning and trotting down the corridor. She took a step to follow, but then the unbelievable happened. The mutt disappeared, simply vanished as if some invisible force had swallowed it whole. She stood frozen in disbelief. The little hairs on the back of her neck rose and she started to hyperventilate. The temperature plummeted, making her breath look like small puffs of smoke. She stumbled back into her room. The lights dimmed and crackled. She closed her eyes. “The cocktail sure did a number on me.” Her eyes snapped open when the stateroom door slammed shut. The bark behind her made her whirl around. The dog stood there, tilting its head to the side. A scream choked in her throat, making it impossible for any sound to escape. She made a dash for the door, desperate to get out, but her feet tangled beneath her and she fell hard to the floor. The mutt leaned close and sniffed her. She lifted her hand to cover her face but not before the mutt’s slobbery tongue licked her cheek. “What do you want? What are you?” She didn’t anticipate an answer, but the questions slipped out anyway. She jumped when the dog barked at her. It turned and ran toward the cabin door and disappeared right through it. “Omigod, this is not happening.” Her vision blurred and darkened. She blinked rapidly. “Oh, please don’t pass out,” she commanded herself, but her body didn’t listen. *** Gillian fell into a deep sleep, allowing the dream to resurface and take her back. She was on a ship, but not the Queen Mary. Before her stood a fog-like hallway. It looked eerie with the lamp lights hanging on the walls. She forced her herself not to be afraid. The man she loved was waiting for her. She felt him near and she had to go to him before it was too late. The dog was there, too. The mutt looked up at her before it turned and headed down the corridor at a trot. Gillian followed. Creighton Manor 11 CHAPTER TWO

June 1870 Zachary Creighton finished his third game of poker aboard the riverboat, Ida Belle. He had won over two thousand dollars, and to his pleasure, most of it was from his rival, Cyrus Locke. He pushed back his chair and stood. “Well gentleman, I believe I shall call it a night.” “Now!” Cyrus bellowed and pounded the table. He narrowed his eyes and his chubby face turned bright red. Zachary always waited to see if steam would explode from his ears, but the man always disappointed him. “Yes, now. It’s late …” He pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time. “Or should I say early.” He snapped the watch closed again, returning it to his pocket. “I for one would like a few hours sleep before we dock.” He placed his hat on his head with a nod of farewell. “Until we meet again.” “Why you—” Cyrus stormed to his feet, but the other men held him back. Zachary turned away with a smile. He loved to get under the man’s skin and he had succeeded tonight. He whistled all the way to his room. He locked the door behind him and put the key in his trouser pocket. He took off his boots throwing them down where he stood. Next, he peeled off his clothes and neatly arranged them over the back of the chair by the door. He then placed his colt on the nightstand and his trusty knife under his pillow. Gambling had become a dangerous business. He found a man lived longer if he was well armed. He never knew when he would come up against a sore loser. It was best to be well prepared at all times. He pulled back the covers and plopped himself into bed, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. *** Gillian grabbed her head as she came out of her drugged-like sleep. The veins at her temples pounded in time with her heartbeat. She forced her eyes open and stared at the ceiling. For a moment, she couldn’t understand why the ceiling didn’t resemble the smooth plaster one in her bedroom, or why she felt like she was swaying back and forth, when she knew she hadn’t moved. Turning her head to the right of her, her vision latched onto a hairy arm dangling over, what she assumed was the edge of her bed. Why was Jerry in her bed and why was she lying on the floor? She

frowned. Hadn’t she broken up with Jerry? For one awful, horrible moment, she thought maybe she had really gone through with the wedding after all. She rubbed her eyes as her muddled thoughts began to organize. Then she remembered: Her conversation with Samantha, the Queen Mary, and then the vanishing mutt. “I passed out. I dreamt the dog led me …” It was a dream, wasn’t it? Where was she? She sat up abruptly, more confused than ever. Again, she felt the swaying. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the ship was afloat, but that was impossible since the Queen Mary lacked the capability of going out to sea. The person on the bed stirred, bringing her attention back to him. She crawled to her feet. She looked down at the man's face, which was turned toward her in slumber. Gillian swallowed with some difficulty as her gaze locked onto the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. He had jetblack hair, a strong chiseled face with a slight cleft in his chin. He looked like he hadn’t shaved for a few days, making him look a little scruffy, but this did nothing to sway her opinion. Her eyes took in the rest of him. Long limbed, his feet hung over the edge of the bed. He wore faded red colored … she supposed they were long johns. She frowned. Strange attire, but she had to say he filled them out rather nicely. But, who was he? How in the world did she end up in a room with him? She didn’t condone casual flings. She glanced down at herself relieved she still wore what she had on last night. Perhaps this meant nothing happened. Maybe they were simply two fools who had too much to drink. She scratched her head. She only remembered the one cocktail. And where was Samantha? She needed to go back to her room and now, before the guy woke up. She had no intentions of making this awkward situation even worse. 12 Karen Michelle Nutt She grabbed her purse off the floor and tiptoed toward the door. She glanced back to see if the man stirred. She tripped and cursed as she stumbled and fell to the floor with a thud. At the same moment, she felt something whiz by her ear, slamming into the door above her head. She slid her gaze up, her eyes widened in alarm when she saw the end of a knife sticking out of the wood. The

gorgeous man had tried to kill her! She whipped around to see him jump out of the bed. She picked up the boot she had tripped over and threw it. A perfect shot, the boot slammed into the side of his head. She scrambled to her feet and lunged for the door. The doorknob didn’t budge. It appeared to be locked from the inside and she needed a key to open it. This couldn’t be happening. She whirled around to face her attacker, praying the boot had somehow miraculously knocked him out. Her shoulders sagged when she found him standing there. His shockingly blue eyes narrowed, pinning her down. She swallowed the lump in the back of her throat. Zachary’s mouth dropped open and he stared at the woman before him. If it hadn’t been for the boot slamming against his skull, he might have thought he dreamt up this alluringly beautiful image before him. Her hair was long and deep auburn, almost the color of autumn leaves with all its gold, brown, and orange blending to perfection. She had it pulled high above her head with some kind of bow that constricted it from falling down. His gaze lingered over her face, mesmerized by her clear sun-kissed skin with just a hint of freckles sprinkled across her nose. Features of an angel, but her attire would tempt a saint to do wicked things. His eyes rested on her dark garment, which hugged her in all the right places. He felt his body respond to every luscious curve revealed to him. Where did this intriguing woman come from and how did she happen to be in his room? He’d locked the door before he went to bed last night, and he must still have the key in his possession, or else the woman would have fled by now. “Who are you?” “Who am I?” she sputtered. “Who are you?” She was a defiant little chit. Under other circumstances he would have admired her spunk. He crossed his arms against his chest. “Since this is my room and I hold the key to your freedom, I suggest—” The woman let out a deafening scream and charged toward him. “Hell and damnation.” Before he could react, she grabbed his arm and flipped him, slamming him to the floor in one fluid move. His six foot, one hundred and eighty pound frame lay there like a rag doll. He stared up at the ceiling with what he knew could only be a stunned expression plastered to his face. How in the world did this little slip of a woman flip him over her shoulder? “It really worked! The self-defense class really paid off.” The woman spoke, her voice laced with amazement over her accomplishment. He rolled his head toward her. “Who are you?” She didn’t have a chance to answer. The cabin door burst open and two men carrying revolvers rushed in. They ran over to him and hauled him off the floor. “Unhand me.” He struggled to be free. The woman stepped back. She looked as if she wanted to fade into the woodwork. “Too late for that now,” Zachary mumbled under his breath. If things couldn’t be any worse, Cyrus Locke walked in looking like the pompous ass that he was dressed in his finery, pocket watch and all. His overweight wife, Josephine, who stuck her nose in everyone’s affairs, came in behind him. Josephine’s expression changed from fright to pity as her eyes rested on the woman, who had

thrown him over her shoulder. Josephine bustled over to her with a motherly, protective stance as if the woman needed protecting with the moves she possessed. “You poor, poor dear,” Josephine cooed as she put her arms around the woman’s shoulders. She then turned and glared at him. “Zachary Creighton, you should be ashamed of yourself for taking advantage of this poor young lady.” “I assure you, Madame Locke, she is no lady!” Zachary seethed between clenched teeth. “That woman nearly killed me!” The room fell silent as a tomb. Their gazes riveting to Gillian then back to Zachary in disbelief. “Own up to your mistakes, Zachary,” Cyrus spoke up. “How in the world could this petite young woman hurt you?” “She... she... Well, she... ” He pierced his lips together refusing to say more. Cyrus’s thin-lipped mouth slid into a smile. Zachary knew he was enjoying his discomfort. This situation didn’t bode well for him. He didn’t know how, but he had a hunch Cyrus Locke was somehow responsible. This must be his idea of revenge for all the money he’d lost last night, and for the many other nights before this. Cyrus would like nothing more than to get even with him, and this unfortunate situation handed him the opportunity. Cyrus had the upper hand here. He knew Zachary tried very hard to make people believe he wasn’t like his father. The drunken fool had gambled away the family estate, and the manor, which now belonged to Cyrus. Zachary's father had not only lost his home, he’d also lost his self-respect. He ended up taking his last breath as a lonely and broken man. Zachary had been a child then, but he still paid for the damage his father had done to the Creighton name. Respect and an unblemished reputation was all Zachary had until he could win back Creighton Manor. Cyrus’ grin widened. Zachary had a hunch the smile meant his life was about to change and he would bet it wouldn’t be for the better. “Well, the only way to rectify this little misunderstanding is to find the captain and have him perform the ceremony,” Cyrus smugly stated. “This young lady cannot leave this establishment without being properly married.” “Married!” Zachary and Gillian both shouted at the same time. Zachary glared at her and she glared back. Brazen wench. “Now listen, Cyrus,” Zachary continued in a calm voice. “I have no intentions of marrying this woman. I don’t even know who she is, or how she managed to find her way into my cabin.” Cyrus wouldn’t let this go. “We cannot help that you had too much to drink last night, and decided to kidnap this poor girl. You have to be held accountable for ravishing a young, defenseless woman.” “I haven’t touched her!” Zachary tried to wiggle his way free from the two men who held him captive, but he couldn’t shake free. “You expect us to believe you. Look how she’s dressed.” Cyrus pointed to Gillian. Zachary didn’t have to look. He knew the woman wore next to nothing. Cyrus’ grin widened. “And look how you are dressed.” “Now wait one cotton-picking minute.” Zachary looked at Gillian, beseeching her to help with the situation. “Tell them. Tell them now that I did not touch you.” One look at the way she stared as if in shock, he wished he hadn’t asked her to speak up… too late. “He threw a knife at me,” she told them. Damn the woman for making this worse.

Josephine gasped in horror. “A knife! Oh dear. How could you?” She pointed her finger at Zachary. “She startled me out of my slumber,” he stammered. “I thought she was a man trying to steal my winnings from last night.” As those words tumbled out of his mouth, he knew he had made a terrible mistake. Cyrus chuckled. “Now, now, do you really expect us to believe you thought this beautiful creature was a man? Either you are blind, or you think we are all incredibly stupid.” Zachary didn’t answer. What was the point? Cyrus had won this hand and he knew it. As if the room wasn’t crowded enough, Ellery waltzed in, tall regal with his light brown hair slicked back in place. He glanced around the room, finally resting his blue-gray eyes on Gillian. His eyes widened in surprise as his gaze traveled down the length of her body and up again. You’d think everyone here thought she stood there naked. Zachary looked at her and sighed. She might as well have been with how the strange attire clung to her. “What is going on Zachary?” Ellery spoke with just a hint of amusement. “Who is this incredibly gorgeous creature?” He sauntered over to Gillian. He cupped her chin. “What has my friend, Zachary done to you?” he teased. “Ellery Livingston, so help me... ” Zachary said between clenched teeth. Ellery turned toward him chuckling. “Zachary, you do find yourself in the most outlandish situations.” “This is not funny, so wipe that silly grin off your face,” Zachary hissed. “Okay, you don’t have to get huffy about it.” Still amused, Ellery looked at Cyrus for an explanation. “Your friend has taken advantage of this poor woman and feels he has no need to resolve the situation.” Ellery burst out laughing. “You must be joking. Zachary? Me maybe, but not Zachary. He is so much the gentleman, he makes gentlemen look like heels. No, there must be some mistake.” “Oh there’s been a mistake all right. Your friend pulled a knife on this young woman demanding favors she was not willing to give. We're going to rectify this oversight, don't you worry.” Cyrus looked to his wife. “Josephine, go and fetch Captain Pike, before the rest of the ship knows of this man’s sordid deeds.” Ellery looked at Zachary and shrugged. “I’d bet my life that what old Cyrus claims isn’t even remotely true. However, my friend you do have a scantily clothed woman in your cabin. So I presume there is to be a wedding. Do you want me to be your best man?” If Zachary could have gotten one hand free, he would have punched Ellery in the face. *** Gillian didn’t understand any of this and she didn’t want to. Even in the horrifying chaos, Gillian couldn’t help but notice everyone wore some form of costume or other. The older man, who she learned was Cyrus Locke, looked to be in his early fifties. He was dressed in slacks and vest with a chain looped to one pocket. His brown hair was thinning at the top, which over exaggerated his plump round face. His wife, Josephine, who accompanied him, was also round. She wore a long, blue dress with an extremely high collar that looked like it was about to choke her.

Josephine had escorted her to their cabin and left her so she could change into her wedding attire, which happened to be a frilly dress three sizes too big. The shoes she’d given her were at least an inch too small and she had to cram her foot into them. She reluctantly faced the fact she wasn’t aboard the Queen Mary in Long Beach, California, but on the Ida Belle, a riverboat that was traveling down the muddy Mississippi. If this wasn’t dreadful enough, Mrs. Locke informed her of the date. Either she’d lost her mind, or everyone on the riverboat suffered from some sort of sick delusion. Neither prospect thrilled her. It just couldn’t be 1870 and yet she had a dreadful feeling Josephine told her the truth. “The vortex.” She had somehow stumbled through the vortex on the Queen Mary and traveled back in time. That had to be the explanation. She knew it sounded insane, but her choices were limited and she had to deal with what she had available. For goodness sakes, forget she’d traveled back in time. They were forcing her to marry a total stranger and she didn’t see a way out of this mess. There was no way they’d let her waltz right out of here. They had a moral agenda they would stick by and she had no doubt that they would force her to adhere to it as well. Oh why, oh why did she have to trip over that man’s boot? If she had stayed on her own two feet, he would have met his mark, and would have done her a big favor in the process by ending this hellish nightmare. Josephine Locke opened the door halfway. “Are you ready, honey?” That was the breaking point. “I’m not going to marry him!” she shouted as she whirled away frantically pacing back and forth waving her hands as she ranted. “I won’t do it.” Josephine opened the door the rest of the way and came in. “It will be all right. Zachary really isn’t all that bad.” Gillian glanced her way. “You must be joking.” “He’s really very handsome too, when he’s clean shaven,” she added as if this would make a difference. Gillian wanted to scream. Didn’t this woman get it? She didn’t care if the man was a freaking Adonis look alike. Somehow, she had to make this woman understand. “I don’t want to marry anyone.” “If you don’t, your reputation will be ruined and Zachary’s as well.” She shook her head sadly. “Zachary’s grandmother would be so disappointed if her grandson didn’t do the right thing by you. It will break her heart.” Gillian brows drew together. Reputations were at stake. She didn’t want to ruin anyone’s life, but what about her life? “I want to go home.” Throwing her arms up in frustration, she spun away from Josephine as she called out, “Where are you, Samantha? Get me the hell out of here!” “Samantha? I could go fetch her if you want. Is she on the ship? Maybe she could stand up for you.” Gillian just shook her head and mumbled, “Maybe if I click my heels together three times, I’ll go home.” “What do you mean, dear?” She looked into the baffled plump face of Josephine Locke. Trying to restore her selfcontrol, she took a deep breath and held it as long as she could before she released it. She did this three more times before she had decided to accept her unfortunate fate. If she had

to live this nightmare, she might as well do it with dignity. In a voice that sounded like she had just been sentenced to death, she calmly stated, “I’m ready, now.” Josephine opened the door and turned toward her. “It really is for the best. You don’t want your reputation tarnished.” Gillian clenched her teeth. “Can we just get this over with?” Josephine nodded. She led Gillian down the hall to Zachary’s cabin where the wedding would take place. Zachary stood there waiting. His hair brushed and parted. He wore a dark suit, a fancy white shirt, adorned with a dark bow tie. She had thought he was gorgeous with the scruffy, roll-out-of-bed look, but never had she imagined him to appear the way he did now. His face was smooth from a recent shave displaying his rugged lines, square jaw with that cute little cleft, right dab in the center. She found her eyes focusing on his generous mouth. She felt the heated flush spread across her cheeks as she imagined how it would feel to be kissed by those lips. She was going nuts! Instead of thinking of kisses, she should be thinking of turning around and running. Josephine seemed to sense this, and blocked the exit, making it impossible for her to flee. Looking extremely pleased, Cyrus stood with his hands behind his back, smiling from ear to ear. Ellery stood by the captain with a grin of his own. He had the nerve to wink at her. She clenched her fists, having the urge to slap the silly expression off the man’s face. Luckily for him, someone pushed her forward until she stood next to the scowling groom. “Can we get this over with?” Zachary grumbled. “I have things to do.” He glared down at Gillian, his icy blue gaze boring into hers. “You see I had not planned on marrying today.” Gillian couldn’t believe the man's arrogant hostility. He hadn’t planned on getting married! What did he think that she had planned today? She was ready to give him a piece of her mind, but Captain Pike cleared his throat and began the ceremony. She still couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined being forced to marry a man she didn’t know. Here she hadn’t married Jerry because she wanted to wait for her soul mate, the man in her dreams. All of a sudden, the irony of the situation hit her, causing her to chuckle over fate’s peculiar sense of humor. All eyes rested on her, but it was Zachary’s glare that silenced her. “You find something amusing?” “If you only knew,” she mumbled with a sigh. “What did you say?” Zachary looked at her again. She shrugged. How could she explain it to him? It was best she kept it to herself. Zachary turned toward the captain giving him the signal that he may continue. She tuned the captain out, wishing she were anywhere, but here. Probably not a good idea since she needed to participate in this farce. “Miss, we need to know your name,” Captain Pike asked for the second time. Zachary’s raised eyebrow and disdainful gaze made her realize he thought her mad. Yeah, well she wondered what he’d say if she told him she traveled from the future. Zachary nudged her. “My name?” she managed to stammer out, causing Zachary to roll his eyes. “Yes, your name,” the captain patiently coaxed. At least he showed her some compassion.

“My name is Gillian Metcalf,” she finally managed to choke out. The captain nodded. “Gillian Metcalf.” He looked at his Bible before he continued, “Gillian Metcalf do you take this man to be your lawful wedded husband? Do you promise to love, cherish, and obey him till death do you part?” This wedding was preposterous. She didn’t love this man, so how could she cherish him? She definitely wasn’t going to obey him, and as for, the death do you part... She wanted to shout, No! No, I don’t want to marry this man. I just want to go home. Instead of articulating her complaints, in a voice she barely recognized as her own she said, “I do.” Captain Pike smiled, completely oblivious to the situation of this sham of a marriage. He then turned his attention to Zachary repeating the words that would bind them together. When it came time for Zachary to give his answer, silence greeted them, giving Gillian hope he would object, but Ellery prodded him, forcing him to answer. “I do.” The captain droned on, ending with, “You may kiss the bride.” Kiss the bride! She’d at least find out how those lips felt against hers. She might as well get something out of this mess. Zachary glared down at her, still fuming over the whole situation. He had not planned on kissing her. Hell and damnation! The woman didn’t play with a full deck. His gaze touched her angelic features and damn if his heart didn’t quicken. Even in the ridiculous dress, which was sizes too big for her, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He wanted nothing more than to brush his lips against hers, but his bruised pride got in the way. He leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. He thought he witnessed a brief moment of regret when he looked into her eyes. Could it be she wanted him to kiss her? He didn’t have a chance to think further about his observation. Ellery brushed him aside and gripped Gillian’s shoulders before he leaned down and kissed her himself. “There,” Ellery said as he released Gillian. The kiss rendered her speechless as she blinked in surprise. Ellery turned to face Zachary. “That is how you kiss a wife, dear boy. I absolutely assure you, if you give little pecks on the cheek, she’ll be looking for another lover.” To everyone’s surprise, Zachary hauled off and punched Ellery in the jaw, sending him flying back into the captain. “Hold on, boy.” Captain Pike righted him quick enough. Ellery stood there rubbing his chin even as a slight grin threatened to show itself. Zachary’s eyes narrowed as he seethed between clenched teeth. “If you ever kiss my wife again, I’ll... ” He didn’t finish. What in the world had gotten into him? He just punched his best friend and for what? For a woman he didn’t even know. “I see how it is.” Ellery nodded. “Just apologize to my… her.” Zachary pointed to Gillian. “Sure.” Ellery held a mischievous gleam in his eye. He looked at Gillian and took her hand. “I am truly sorry if I have offended you. That was not my intent.” Gillian smiled. “I believe you’re a flirt, but harmless enough.” “Ouch. Harmless, hmm. I will have to rectify your opinion of me.” He started to raise Gillian’s hand to his lips, but Zachary stopped him by putting himself between them. “She accepts your apology.” Zachary glowered, challenging Ellery to say or do more. Ellery broke the gaze with a shrug. “Well, I do believe we have docked. I, for one, need to fetch my bags,” he announced and made his exit.

CHAPTER THREE “I’m married,” Gillian mumbled and shook her head. She wished Ellery hadn’t run off so fast. He had a better disposition than her husband. She’d much rather share his company. Josephine walked over to Gillian and patted her hand. She whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry honey, he is as gentle as a lamb.” Gillian wondered how this woman knew this about Zachary. So far in the last hour, he had been nothing but violent. He threw knives at people and he punched them in the face, only God knew what other horrible things he was capable of doing. You’re married to him. She would have to keep reminding herself to believe it. Cyrus took his wife by the arm. “Come on Josephine. Let the newlyweds be alone.” Gillian noticed Zachary tense at the word newlywed. Well, she didn’t like the reference either. With the wedding party gone, Gillian felt a panic attack take seed. She clutched her chest and gasped for air. Ellery said they were docked, so they would be leaving the riverboat. She didn’t want to leave. If she were to go back to her time, wouldn’t she need to be here on the Ida Belle to do that? She suddenly had an idea. She ran over to the side of the bed and stretched out on the floor. This is how she arrived. Perhaps this was how she’d leave. She waited. “Damn, nothing,” she whispered. Zachary looked down at her with a definite frown penetrating his features. “What are you doing?” She knew he must think she was off her rocker, but she had to try, didn’t she? She couldn’t leave with this man, not knowing if she could somehow go back to where she belonged. After a few minutes, she realized nothing was going to happen. “Well, I’m waiting. What are you doing?” What a cranky man. “It’s an old custom where I come from. When a couple marries, the wife lies down next to a bed and says a prayer for good luck.” She knew this explanation sounded absurd, but she couldn’t think of anything else. Zachary stood there probably deciding if she mocked him. “I see,” he said even though it was obvious he didn’t. “If you’re finished, we should be on our way.” She reluctantly stood and watched him pick up his carrier. He nodded toward the bed. “Is this your only luggage?” She saw her purse. With all the confusion, she had forgotten all about it. “Yes, that’s it.” She picked it up and followed him out of the room. By the time they made it off the ship, her feet hurt from the tight confining shoes she had been forced to wear. She wondered where her Nikes ended up. Zachary noticed her struggle to keep up, “Did you hurt yourself?” His voice actually sounded as if he cared. “No, the shoes are too small. I think I’m getting a blister.” He glanced down at her feet, without missing his stride. “Hmm.” “Hmm, that’s it?” He just shrugged. “What did you want me to say?” He was right. What did she expect of him? It wasn’t his fault her shoes were too small. She made a face at him anyway. They walked in silence for a while until she couldn’t take it. She decided to make the first move.

Maybe they could manage a civil conversation. Josephine Locke had claimed he was nice. “So, where are we going?” “Home.” “Home, where?” “Where I live and where you will now live too, thanks to the little stunt you pulled back there.” “Stunt!” she screamed at him, causing people to stare. She quickly lowered her voice. She didn’t want any more interference from concerned citizens. “You were the one who caused all the commotion. If you hadn’t thrown that knife at me, none of this would have happened.” “Let me remind you,” he stopped suddenly and she ran into him. His piercing glare caused her to take a step back, “you were the one in my room, not the other way around. Therefore, if you had not been there in the first place, none of this would have happened. By the way, how did you manage to secure entry into my room? The only thing I could come up with is that you were hiding in my room before I arrived. I have also deducted, since you had no luggage with you, you were a stowaway. Why don’t you just tell me who you really are, and why you are running away?” Gillian gawked at him not knowing what to say. She hadn’t thought about having to tell anyone who she was, or where she was from. If she told anyone the truth, no one would believe her. They’d probably lock her up and throw away the key. She couldn’t stay with this man. However, where could she go? She had no money, no home, and no job, at least not here in this time. She thought about all of her fourth grade students, who would be waiting for her to show up for class when school started again. What would they think when their teacher didn’t arrive to open the door, and what about Samantha? She would surely freak when she couldn’t find her on board the Queen Mary. Zachary stood there, tapping his foot while he waited for Gillian's explanation. When none seemed forthcoming, sarcasm seemed to flow out of his mouth like a gorged river. “Is this another one of your wedding customs, to stand in the middle of the road and stare with that blank look on your face?” That was it. She couldn’t take anymore of this nightmare. Without any warning, she turned on her heels and bolted. “Hell and Damnation! Where do you think you’re going?” He shouted after her. Gillian had no idea where she was heading. She just knew she had to escape. Anywhere would be better than staying with this arrogant, condescending man. She glanced over her shoulder and saw to her horror Zachary was coming after her. Again, she wished she had her Nikes. She could feel her flesh tearing inside the dreadful shoes. She rounded a corner to try to lose him behind the bustling crowd. Just when she felt confident that she might have a chance of escaping, her flight through the muddy street of the riverside town abruptly came to a halt. Someone grabbed her arm. She tried with all her strength to pull away, but it was useless. She’d been caught. She looked up into the eyes of her captor, recognizing the man who grinned down at her. In the next moment, Zachary caught up. “Zachary old boy, did you lose something, or should I say someone?” Ellery said smiling, as he let go of Gillian’s arm. “We were separated from each other; that’s all. In her panic, she went the wrong way. Isn’t that right, dear?” Zachary stressed the dear part just a little too much, and she was in no mood to play the submissive wife.

Of course the jerk couldn’t let his friend think he couldn’t control his wife. Her hands balled into fists. She met his warning glare with a sneer. “That’s not true and you know it. Frankly, I don’t know why you just don’t let me go. I can fend for myself. Thank you very much.” “Whoa, a feisty gal, isn’t she?” Ellery commented, enjoying his friend’s obvious discomfort. “Fend for yourself!” Zachary spat, ignoring Ellery completely. “And how, pray tell are you going to do that? As far as I can see, you have not a cent to your name. You don’t even have clothes that fit you properly. Where are you to go? Please tell me. I am most curious.” He put his bag down and folded his arms against his chest as he waited for her to answer. Gillian would have loved to tell him where to go, but on second thought decided it best to refrain. Did this man always have to be right? She realized now, it had been foolish of her to run without a concrete plan in mind. She didn’t have any place to go, leaving her at this man’s mercy. Right now, it probably wasn’t wise to make him angry. She bit the inside of her cheek and remained silent. “Just as I thought,” Zachary continued without pity. “Now let’s get a few things straight. Neither one of us wanted to be married.” “No kidding, Sherlock.” Her words dripped with sarcasm. Ellery decided to clear up the name problem. “Just in case you didn’t catch his name at the wedding, he’s Zachary, not Sherlock.” Gillian rolled her eyes. “Ellery would you mind?” Zachary threw his friend a lethal glare obviously hoping he would get the hint and continue on his way, so he could properly deal with her in private. Ellery chuckled, having no intentions of leaving. “No, no, I don’t mind.” He waved his hand in front of him. “Go ahead Zachary, finish your little speech.” Zachary’s gaze looked murderous, but Ellery didn’t look put out in the least. Brave man or maybe he knew Zachary’s bluster didn’t amount to much. Interesting. Zachary turned toward Gillian. “As I was saying: Neither one of us wanted to be married, to each other anyway. However, since we had no choice in the matter, the deed is now done. I am responsible for you and I take responsibility very seriously.” “He does too,” Ellery added, meeting Zachary’s glare once more. Ellery held up his hands. “Sorry. Continue. I’ll keep mum.” He made a motion of locking his mouth shut and throwing away the key. Zachary’s eyelids fluttered and he inhaled deeply before he brought his attention back to her. “I will take care of you. You will be well fed and... ” Zachary gaze slid down her and back up in disgust. “… and I will make sure you have suitable attire to wear. In return, all I ask of you is to behave. That is to say, no more running away, and you must try very hard not to make my life miserable. Is that understood?” She nodded as a misbehaving child would after a scolding. She didn’t care to be treated like an adolescent, but at the moment, she didn’t seem to have any choice. He said he would take care of her, and for some odd reason she believed him. She hoped by going with him she would figure out why she had traveled back in time. Why she had ended up with him. Surely, there had to be a purpose to this nightmare. She thought Zachary had finished bawling her out. Then he added insult to injury. “You also owe me twenty-nine dollars.”

There went the obedient wife routine. “Owe you! For what?” she shouted. “For the damage to the door of the cabin. Though I am well acquainted with Captain Pike, he still demanded the money to have it repaired.” “You threw the knife! And those other men knocked it down. I had nothing to do with it.” “And,” he continued, as though he hadn’t heard her complaint, “as for the wifely duties…” Zachary’s hand snaked out, pulling Gillian against him. “Unhand—” His mouth claimed her lips, drowning out her demand in a heated invasion. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t allow it. He held her head and exerted a more provocative pressure with his mouth. A slow burn of desire curled through her, demanding more than she was prepared to accept. She could feel herself weakening. Her struggling lessened as she melted against him. There was something familiar about the embrace as if she’d been kissed like this before. The reasonable part of her brain knew she should push him away, but all her senses were lit on fire, threatening to consume her in one final blaze. As far as she was concerned, they were the only two people on the street, while all time stood still. Zachary experienced the same difficulty with reality as Gillian. He wanted to tame her, to humble her, not the other way around. The small insistent voice in the back of his mind warned him to stop, but then… Hell and damnation! She kissed him back. He didn’t care people stopped and stared. He didn’t care that Ellery’s eyebrows shot up as he watched the two succumb to whatever enchantment had captured them. Her mouth was sweet and her tongue stroked against his. She shifted restlessly, her movements a faint whisper against him. God, this felt right. Ellery cleared his throat and tapped Zachary on the shoulder breaking the spell. “My boy, I had no idea you had a speck of passion in you, but people are beginning to talk. You might want to take this inside… say a hotel.” Gently caressing her cheek, Zachary leaned back from Gillian, his brows furrowing. If he wasn’t careful, he could lose himself to her, and he didn’t have the time or the patience to woe the woman. He dropped his hand away. He forced the tenderness from his gaze and a wall of resentment went up in its place. He had to temper his out of control emotions. In a voice void of any amiability, he told her firmly, “That is what I expect from a wife, when called upon.” Gillian flinched as if he’d slapped her in the face. Whom did this man think he was talking to anyway? Without weighing the consequences, she swept her foot behind his leg, knocking him on his pompous behind. Ellery laughed so hard Gillian couldn’t help but chuckle herself. She would have continued laughing, but the look she received from the fallen Zachary was deadly enough to silence her. Livid with anger, he slowly lifted himself off the ground. He turned to look at his backside all caked with mud. He glared down at Gillian, his blue eyes narrowing to slits. “Madame, if you ever do that again, you will rue the very day.” Ellery stopped laughing long enough to put in a few words. “Oh come on, Zach my boy, no harm done. It’s just a little mud. It will come clean. With the energy this woman possesses, just sit back and imagine the nights you will have with her.” He pounded Zachary on the back before he went on his way. “You’re a lucky man.” He was almost out of hearing range, when he turned back around. “A lucky man!” he shouted again.

CHAPTER FOUR Zachary rented a horse drawn carriage to take them back to his home situated at the far side of town. Simply worn out, Gillian rode in silence. She honestly didn’t want to argue anymore. Her feet hurt. She was tired, hungry, and she needed a bath. Zachary pulled up alongside a two-story whitewashed house with a wooden fence enclosing the front yard as well as the walkway. There were steps leading up to the front door and wooden spokes that framed the quaint porch. She imagined how nice it would be to have a swing there, to enjoy the welcoming coolness of the evening. Though, it was hot and muggy, she shivered. Why, on earth would she think of such a thing? She didn’t belong here. She was going back home. “Are you coming?” Zachary’s voice broke through her troubled thoughts like a sledgehammer. Even if she ended up stranded in this time, she refused to spend her life with this man. She swept by him into the house. She stood in the foyer. “The first door on the right is where we’re heading,” he said, as he closed the front doors. She entered the room she assumed was the library for there were bookcases that reached the ceiling and covered three of the walls. She turned to face him, his lips twisted into a cynical smile. “Please make yourself comfortable. I must attend to a few things.” Gillian nodded as she watched him stiffly walk out of the room. She couldn’t help it. A smile of satisfaction curved her lips as she viewed his mud-caked pants. The man evidently would change his clothes before he did anything else. Gladly throwing her purse on the drab sofa, Gillian sat down to absorb the ambience of the room, which is to say, the lack of any. It was clean, spacious and comfortable, but it was meagerly furnished. An ornate carved mantle framed the fireplace. Above it, hung a framed picture nearly faded from recognition. Immediately, her creative mind started to make minor changes, which would transform the room, making it a place where a person would want to kick up their feet and relax. Thinking of feet. She leaned down and slowly removed her shoes, leaving only the thin stockings. She wiggled her cramped toes, hoping to restore circulation. “Much better,” she sighed. “What to do now?” Her gaze landed on the bookshelves. “Well, Mr. Creighton, if you read any of these books you must be a well educated man. Hmm, I wonder what your interests are?” She hobbled over to one of the bookshelves to discover what sort of man she’d been forced to marry. There were books on law, medicine, and mineralogy. On another shelf, there were ones on botany, history, anatomy, and astronomy. Set on the bottom shelf, she discovered a four-volume dictionary, and to her surprise, there were even books of poetry. She quickly decided to take the writings of Oliver Wendell Holmes back to her seat. She propped up her feet and opened the book. ***

Zachary wasn’t completely insensitive to Gillian’s discomfort. Now that some of his hostility toward her and their situation had subsided, he knew he had to examine her feet and treat them if necessary. He returned to the library with his medical supplies, pausing at the door. To his amusement Gillian had taken his gesture of hospitality seriously, and made herself at home. She stretched out on the couch engrossed in a book she’d chosen. Her auburn hair cascaded over one shoulder in waves that framed her angelic face. Nothing to entice him, and yet, he felt his body stir, making him painfully aware he was a man, alone with a beautiful woman. Gillian turned her head and met his gaze. Her brows furrowed and he looked away not wanting her to see how much he desired her. They may be married in name, but he had a hunch she wouldn’t fall into his bed and appease his carnal attraction. He sighed. “I thought you might need something for your feet. Do you have any blisters?” “You never cease to confound me.” “What do you mean?” “One minute you’re mean and nasty and the next you act like you care.” He gave her a slightly wounded smile. “I do believe you’ve seen me at my worst.” “Hmm.” She tilted her head. “Your feet,” he reminded her of his question. “Oh, yes… I don’t know. I was afraid to remove the stockings.” Placing the medical black bag on the floor, he knelt down in front of her. He gently took her feet in his hands, and slowly peeled the thin socks from her feet. When Gillian grimaced, he glanced up at her. “I’m sorry, but they have to come off.” She bit down on her lower lip and nodded her head for him to continue. The removal of the stocking revealed a nasty blister on the top part of her foot, and another on the outer side that had already burst. The left foot was in about the same condition. He was amazed she hadn’t complained more. “I’ll have to treat these to avoid any infection.” He opened the bag he brought with him, taking out some gauze and a bottle of alcohol. Gillian tried not to squirm while he gently dabbed her feet. “Where did you learn about disinfecting wounds? I’m sure I remember Jerry telling me it wasn’t common practice before the twentieth century.” “At one time, I thought I wanted to be a doctor. I learned a few tricks that could save one's life. It comes in handy at times.” He glanced up before he asked, “Who’s Jerry?” “Uh… Jerry… He’s just a… you know, a friend.” She quickly threw another question at him as if he’d forget she mentioned another man’s name. “What changed your mind about becoming a doctor?” He wanted to know who Jerry was, but he bit his tongue. They were on good terms and not arguing, he could wait awhile longer. “I was a better gambler than a doctor.” He shrugged. “In that case, I hope I don’t lose my feet.” She had a genuine smile, making her incredible green eyes sparkle. His mouth twitched amused by her gentle teasing. “I kind of like your feet. So, I’ll do my best to save them.” Her face flushed from his bold statement. He needed to watch his tongue. Not wanting her to feel uncomfortable, he dropped his gaze. He diligently returned to his task of wrapping each foot with thin strips of gauze. When he finished, he put his supplies away. “I think that should suffice.” On impulse, he leaned down, stopping just short of kissing her lips. He recovered quickly and gave her a fatherly peck on the forehead. “There, all better,” he said feeling a little unsettled. He’d known her hours and

yet he felt this immediate connection. Perhaps attraction would be the better word. He’d have to be blind not to notice how her hair held six different shades of gold and red, or miss the luscious curves that were now hidden beneath the hideous dress she wore. He desperately wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her like... well, like a husband should kiss his wife. He cleared his throat. “So …” He searched for something to say. “... are you hungry?” “You read my mind. I’m so starved, I probably could eat a horse.” Zachary chuckled. “Sorry, I believe we’re fresh out of horse, ma’am but I’ll see what I can do.” He stood with his medical supplies in his hand. At the door, he turned to look at her. “Don’t move from that spot.” Her well-defined kissable lips curved into a smile. “I’ll wait right here.” This was going to be a long night. Zachary headed for the kitchen. While he prepared the meal, he thought about Gillian’s comment and the reference to the man she called Jerry. He didn’t believe for one moment, the man was merely a friend. She had hesitated to answer him, and had been far too quick to change the subject. Something else puzzled him, too: What did she mean before the twentieth century they didn’t disinfect wounds? *** Gillian yawned. “Time traveling wears a person out.” She plumped up the pillows and stretched out on the sofa. The book she had been reading was soon forgotten. She closed her eyes. Oddly enough, she felt safe here. She easily entered the world of dreams, where he waited. His touch sent a tingle racing to the tips of her toes. The musky smell of him filled her senses in vivid longing. “Grá mo chroi,” he whispered as he kissed the tender area behind her ear. She wanted to open her eyes, and for once view the man who held her heart, but her eyelids wouldn’t obey. She felt the moist heat of his mouth against hers and she parted her lips in acceptance. She had to tell him how she felt. She had to let him know she wanted him. “I have waited so long.” Her dream man halted his caresses. He pulled back, taking all the warmth with him. Her eyes fluttered open. She didn’t see her dream man at all. Zachary sat inches from her and with his hands on her. Her face flushed with humiliation and anger. She lashed out, wanting to get away. She swung at his head. Zachary grabbed her arms and pinned her against the back of the sofa. “Hell and damnation! Why are you hitting me?” “Why? I’ll tell you why. You were kissing me!” she accused, as if it were a grave sin. She wanted so much for the man to be the one she sought, but it was only Zachary Creighton. The disappointment left a sour ache in the pit of her stomach. “Let go of me,” she sneered. He rolled his eyes with a groan, but he released her. He stood and took a step back. He watched her with a hungry predator glare, but she stared back without apology. He had started this, not her. She wasn’t stupid. She realized he had every right to expect something from her. They were legally married, and married people usually shared everything. Zachary obviously wanted to enjoy the marriage’s fringe benefits. Well, she didn’t. She couldn’t. It didn’t matter in the least that her heart jolted and her heart pounded when he looked at her. The relationship

had been doomed from the start. She didn’t belong here. She would have to return to her time. She didn’t want to hurt him, give him false hopes they would have a future. She frowned as a disturbing thought flitted across her mind. She didn’t want to be hurt either. Zachary knew she had every right to be angry with him. He took advantage of her. Truly, he hadn’t planned on kissing her, but when he leaned down to wake her, she parted her lips in invitation. How could he refuse? She’d kissed him back, by God. “What’s this all about? I can kiss you. You are my wife or have you forgotten?” Lifting her chin in a defiant gesture, she glared up at him. “Well now, how can I possibly forget when you remind me every chance you get?” For a moment, silence prevailed while they both glared at each other. Zachary wondered why she kept getting under his skin, like an old wound that ached on a rainy day. He didn’t need this frustration. An annulment crossed his mind. Then all his troubles would be solved. Would Gillian agree to one? Is that what he truly wanted? Gillian’s sigh drew his attention. “Listen, I am aware I owe you, and I am completely grateful, but we can’t do this. It’s wrong. You know it is. What kind of marriage could we possibly hope for, when we said the words of commitment under duress?” Tell her she’s right. She’s giving you a way out. “I see. Is this the only reason?” His gaze hardened and even to him his voice sounded guarded. “There’s someone else, isn’t there? The man you mentioned—Jerry, is it him?” Her gaze riveted to him. “No,” she answered. “It isn’t Jerry, but there is someone else.” “Where is this man?” Something akin to jealousy seeped into his pores, catching him off guard. He blinked trying to shake the emotion away. Yes, he married her, but he had no claim on her heart. “Did he abandon you?” “Not exactly.” “Either he has or he hasn’t.” He couldn’t stop himself from wanting the answers, needing to know who held her affections. “Who is he?” he demanded. He watched as different emotions flitted across her face. “Does it matter? I don’t know where he is.” “Would you tell me if you did know?” Zachary’s eyes narrowed. “No.” He remained quiet for a moment, studying her. He realized his unorthodox marriage was becoming more complicated with every turn. If she were in love with another man, he wouldn’t force himself upon her. After all, he wasn’t a complete cad. “So…” he continued, “… we are at a quandary. If you cannot willingly be my wife in the conventional way, then an annulment is in order. Don’t you agree?” He wanted her to say no. She nodded slowly. “It would be for the best. Don’t you think?” “I suppose it would.” He should be rejoicing. She wanted to set him free. So why did he feel cornered, with no other choice but to concede to her wishes? “What am I to do with you until other arrangements can be made?” “Maybe, I can work for you. Is there anything that I could offer for services?” Zachary’s mouth curved in a devilish grin, his eyebrows lifting. “Besides that,” she answered before he could comment. “Do you need a cook? I’m pretty handy in the kitchen.”

“No, I have Dora, my housekeeper. She usually stays here and helps. Can you sew? I always seem to have things that need mending, and Dora would appreciate the help.” “No. Unfortunately, I never mastered the patience to learn.” They both were silent for a moment, trying to come up with something. Zachary didn’t want to think up an imaginary job. He didn’t want her to be his employee. He wanted her to be... He didn’t finish the thought because it disturbed him. Certainly, he couldn’t be thinking he really wanted to have a wife. He had important matters to take care of before he contemplated marriage. For one he needed to come up with a better plan to win Creighton Manor back. This would take his full and undivided attention. He didn’t have time for a wife. “What did you do before you ended up in my room aboard the Ida Belle?” “I’m a school teacher.” “You’re a school teacher?" Somehow, he found this unbelievable, for his image of a schoolteacher was someone... well, someone a little more matronly. "Where did you teach?” “Huntington Beach, California.” “Hunting—” “I taught fourth graders. I love kids. They have a way of looking at the world that grownups have forgotten.” She chuckled and looked away. “Hmm.” Why did she act nervous all of a sudden and why wouldn’t she meet his gaze? What was she hiding? He realized he wanted to find out. He claimed he didn’t want to be saddled with a wife, but he had to admit she intrigued him. He never met anyone like her. Her mannerisms, her dress, her ability to stand up to him—not to mention her beauty warmed him, making him ache to touch her. He cleared his throat. “Then I guess I have something for you to do.” “There’s a schoolteacher position opening up?” “Well, in a way. My nephew, who is six years old, is in desperate need of a tutor. He has a difficult time in school. I had hired someone to help him with his studies, but his tutor left us a month ago, due to a family emergency. I just received word that he isn’t going to return. You could be my nephew’s tutor.” “Won’t you have to consult his parent’s first?” He shook his head. “I have full custody of Tyler. A few years ago, my sister and her husband were in an accident. They were both killed.” “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Zachary just shrugged. “Yes, it was most unfortunate for all concerned.” He ignored the way she stared at him with her brows furrowed. “Where is Tyler?” Gillian inquired. “I thought we were alone.” “We are. Tyler is with my grandmother. I was supposed to collect him today, but things did not go as I planned. I’ll pick him up tomorrow.” Zachary looked down at her. His gaze traveled over her face and searched her eyes. He wished she weren’t so breathtakingly beautiful. How in the world was he to keep himself in check when she had struck such a vibrate chord in him? He shook his head regretfully. “Don’t lash out at me. I’m going to pick you up. I promise you as a gentleman, I will not ravish you. I have a meal prepared in the kitchen, and I don’t want you walking on your blistered feet.” “You want to carry me?” She acted surprised. “Didn’t I say as much?” “Yes, but—”

“This is not up for negotiation.” “Fine. It’s your back.” He leaned down and scooped her up and she linked her arms around his neck. For a moment their gazes locked. Damn, why he did promise not to ravish her? “You know a girl could definitely get used to this.” He chuckled. He had to admit she felt good in his arms, too. Zachary had been good to his word. He remained the perfect gentleman all evening. When he didn’t annoy her, she actually found him good company. He told her about Tyler. She could tell Zachary loved his nephew by the way his eyes lit up when he told her stories about him. Maybe Josephine Locke had been right after all: He was nice. Not to mention the sexual undercurrent she felt around him. His piercing blue eyes did her in. The way he looked at her caused a quick beat of awareness in her blood. She didn’t understand the immediate attraction, but it was there. Not a bad thing to lust after one’s own husband, but complicated when she knew she didn’t belong with him. The one meant for her was still out there and probably in her century. She just had to find a way back. “You must be tired.” “What?” she shook her head and looked at him. “I’m droning on and you’re exhausted.” “No, I’m fine. I…” Against her will, she yawned into a chuckle. “Sorry.” He smiled. “I’m the one to apologize. I’ll show you to your room.” He prepared the room at the top of the stairs for her. Before Gillian shut her door, she saw him enter his own room located across the hall. She should have been pleased he respected her enough to honor her wishes, but instead she felt a stab of disappointment. He didn’t even try to make advances. Then she chastised herself. What did she expect since she hit him when he had tried to kiss her, and she told him she was in love with another man? She shut her door and leaned against it. “I need to go home and soon.” CHAPTER FIVE After a restless night, Gillian awoke to murmuring voices from downstairs. One voice she recognized as Zachary’s, and the other voice she heard definitely belonged to a woman. She immediately threw back the covers and slipped out of bed. She put on the dress she wore yesterday since she lacked a wardrobe full of clothes. She glanced at her wrapped feet. There was no way she was going to put on those horribly tight shoes. She’d go bare foot first. Then her eyes caught sight of her Nikes and socks by the door. She smiled. Obviously when they left the riverboat, Zachary took them with him. Bless the man for his consideration. She carefully put the socks over her wrapped feet and slipped on the comfortable tennis shoes. The sun shone through the window, casting rays on the hardwood floor. She looked around, inspecting her chambers. Sadly, she found it to be as cold and dreary as the library. She didn’t understand it. She knew Zachary to be a passionate man if she could judge him by the way he kissed her, but it was as if this house didn’t matter to him. The furniture, like the other rooms she had been in were beautifully carved, but the drapes and comforter were a cream color that blended into the walls. At a further glance, she

noticed there was absolutely no color to brighten up the place. She shuddered inwardly. Spending too much time in this cheerless room would eventually send anyone into a deep depression. If she was to stay here any length of time, she vowed to make changes, but first, she needed to find a brush. Her gaze ventured to the dresser. She found more than she had hoped. There was a comb, brush and a water basin. She smiled again. Zachary may not know how to decorate a home, but he did know how to please a woman. She washed her face and brushed her long auburn strands free from tangles. She left it loose and flowing down her back. She then ventured downstairs to find out whom Zachary entertained. *** “I cannot believe my own ears, Zachary Creighton. Why don’t you want to make a grand display of your marriage? At least, let me enjoy that much, since you didn’t have the decency to invite me to the wedding.” Walking, cane in hand, the older woman made her way to the sofa. She took a seat, her eyes pinning Zachary with a glare that spoke of authority. He leaned against the fireplace mantle, his jaw muscles moving back and forth, as he clenched his teeth. Gillian took in the scene at the doorway of the library. Smiling her sweetest smile, she greeted the two in the room. “Good morning. Isn’t it a spectacular day?” Zachary’s gaze riveted to hers a frown penetrating his features. He obviously failed to see the wonder of the day. Discussing his sudden voyage into matrimony probably didn’t help his disposition. Gillian chose to ignore his glare of warning. Instead, she turned her full attention to the silver-haired woman seated on the sofa. She wore a mauve colored dress, long and full with a lace collar to cover her neck. Even though the day proved warm, she wore a V-shaped jacket to match. Fine smile lines etched her still attractive features. The woman stood. She gripped a cane with a gold top, but as far as Gillian could see, she really didn’t need the use of one. She walked toward her with authority, proving the cane was more of a showpiece. The woman circled around Gillian. She finally stopped in front of her. Neither one wavered from their gaze. Gillian then noticed the twinkle of amusement in the older woman’s eyes, blue eyes, exactly the same shade as Zachary’s. The woman had to be a relative. In the next moment, her suspicions were confirmed. The woman smiled warmly and stated rather than asked, “So you’re the woman my grandson has married. I do believe you’ve made a splendid choice, Zachary.” She said this without ever looking at him. “She’s breathtaking with all that ravishingly gorgeous auburn hair. Is there Irish blood running through your veins?” Gillian’s brows rose at the odd question, but before she could answer, Zachary explained, “Lotti,” she couldn’t help but notice he didn’t call this woman, grandma. “…insists the best people in the world have Irish blood running through their veins.” “It’s true.” Zachary’s grandmother defended her beliefs. “My husband, God rest his soul, was a wonderful man, but he was English through and through. I am convinced the blue blood ruined Zachary’s father.” Seeing the look of bewilderment on Gillian’s face, Lotti nervously glanced at her grandson. “Didn’t you tell her anything about the family?” “I told you it was a fast courtship.” Gillian thought if his grandmother knew how hasty it really was, she’d have a coronary.

Lotti turned her attention back to Gillian. “Well let me tell you, since it seems Zachary has failed to do so himself. Let’s take a seat, first.” They walked back to the sofa. “I see you found your shoes,” Zachary commented as he nodded toward her feet. “Yes.” Gillian looked at them before she met his gaze with a smile. “Thank you.” Lotti blinked and pierced her lips in distaste, but she remained the perfect lady and didn’t say anything. She sat next to Gillian on the sofa. “Now let me give you a brief history of the Creighton’s.” “Should I bar the exits? She might make a run for it.” Zachary’s sarcasm didn’t sit well with his grandmother. Lotti’s gray brows drew together. “Hush now.” “Sorry, Lotti, go ahead. Tell all the Creighton secrets. If anything it should prove entertaining.” Lotti waved a hand at her grandson. “Zachary’s father, my son, was a good for nothing, all though lovable, a loser.” She doesn’t mince words, does she? Gillian thought. “Everything he touched turned sour. He could not hold his liquor and he was an impossible gambler. He lost everything: his respect and his family. His wife died of a broken heart, and finally my son lost his own life in a fight. However, before he died, he forfeited the most prized possession: Creighton Manor that my husband built with his own sweat and money. The man who owns it now is Cyrus Locke, though I have no idea why the man keeps it. The house survived the Yankees, yet Cyrus has let it slowly decay, while he lives in his own grand home on the hill.” Gillian glanced at Zachary for confirmation. "Cyrus was on the Ida Belle, wasn’t he?" Zachary nodded. "Yes, he was there at our wedding,” he stressed and she realized he was also the man responsible for their predicament. Lotti continued the story, “As much as I was saddened by the loss of Creighton Manor, it was just… a place. Home is where your heart is.” Zachary snorted with a wave of his hand, indicating he didn’t agree with his grandmother. She chose to ignore him. “Zachary has been obsessed with trying to win the manor back. He has followed Cyrus Locke for years, entering the same games with him, trying to win all his holdings. Therefore, you can imagine my surprise when I ran into Josephine Locke this morning, and she told me about the two of you getting married. I had given up hope that Zachary would ever find anyone. But, I do have to say, I am most pleased he did.” Obviously, Josephine Locke had decided not to reveal the true circumstances of their marriage. “So is there... any Irish in your family, that is?” Zachary’s grandmother asked the question once again. “I really don’t know. My father used to say we were about everything you could think of.” “Used to?” “Both my parents have passed away. My mom, when I was a few years old and my father two years ago.” “You poor dear,” Lotti said sympathetically. “You’re an orphan like Zachary and…” She turned toward her grandson. “You have told her about Tyler haven’t you?” “I have. Matter of fact, Gillian has agreed to tutor him. She was a school teacher before she came here.”

“How splendid, but I do say, I don’t know how much learning he will do once he sees how pretty his teacher is.” Gillian felt heat rise in her face. “Now... ” Lotti continued, “… we must plan the wedding celebration so everyone can meet you.” Gillian’s eyes darted nervously to Zachary. They couldn’t have a reception with the marriage actually being a ruse. Then she realized what Zachary and his grandmother had been talking about before she came downstairs. “We don’t want to make a big fuss over this,” Zachary told his grandmother. “That is why we had a small ceremony on the Ida Belle.” “Nonsense, you must have a reception. You’ll insult all our friends if you do not.” “Mrs. Creighton—” “Please, call me Lotti. Everyone does. Mrs. Creighton is so stuffy and grandma makes me feel like a hundred.” “Lotti.” Gillian smiled. “I would love to meet all your friends, but I don’t have anything appropriate to wear.” She glanced down, indicating her oversized dress. “My arrival here was… well, let’s say somewhat unexpected.” “Not a problem. I have my garments made by a wonderful woman in town. She will be glad to make you an entire wardrobe. Zachary can afford it. I hate to admit it, but unlike his father, he is a successful gambler.” “Lotti, I will take care of Gillian’s wardrobe, but we don’t want a reception,” Zachary protested. “Please honor my—” A thunderous knock at the front door interrupted him. “If you’ll excuse me.” He reluctantly left the room to answer it. Gillian recognized who it was by his voice before he came sauntering into the room. He immediately went over to Lotti and took her hand planting a kiss on it. “Lotti, it is so good to see you again.” “Ellery, you handsome devil.” “Now, now Lotti…” He turned toward Gillian. He was about to take her hand, but he caught Zachary’s scowl and thought better of it. He rubbed his jaw obviously remembering what happened yesterday when he kissed her. He feigned tipping an imaginary hat with a bow. “It is good to see you again, Gillian. I do hope your first night as a married woman fared well?” “It did.” Zachary moved beside his friend and gave Gillian a warning look to not to say anything to the contrary. She smiled sweetly. “Zachary was very attentive, thank you.” “Too bad.” Ellery sounded wounded. “I was hoping you had tired of Zachary and would want to run away with me.” Lotti tapped Ellery lightly on the foot with her cane. “You have not changed a bit, Ellery Livingston, still chasing after another man’s wife. It is a good thing that you are a lawyer so you can defend yourself from your unsavory deeds.” She teased but Gillian would bet there was a bit of the truth there too. He put his hand over his heart pretending to be offended. “You hurt me to the core.” “Oh, get on with you.” She waived her hand at him. “But, since you are here, perhaps you can convince these two to have a reception. Both seem reluctant about announcing their marriage.”

Ellery met Zachary’s gaze then hers. The man knew they wished to avoid the unwanted publicity, but his smile turned into a mischievous grin. Gillian knew they were doomed. “You must have a reception, or are you afraid of what Violet will do once she finds out she has been jilted.” “Peugh!” Lotti nearly snorted. “That girl is not worth mentioning.” Gillian’s gaze riveted to Zachary’s. One look at Zachary told her Violet meant something to him, someone important in his life. He looked like he wanted to strangle Ellery for even mentioning her name. “Who is Violet, honey?” Gillian’s voice dripped sweet like honey, but she made sure she shot Zachary a withering glance. Ellery willingly volunteered Zachary’s involvement with Violet. “Oh Zach, you can’t have secrets from your wife,” he jibed. “How come you seem to know all about being married when you have never been married yourself?” Zachary snapped back. “Gillian, I’ll tell you.” Ellery refused to be put off. “Violet was Zachary’s fiancée… before you that is. Hmm.” He tapped his chin. “Interesting. It seems Zachary has a thing for redheads.” Lotti harrumphed. “Gillian’s hair is auburn. Violets hair looks like it’s about to burst into flames.” Ellery chuckled. “Matches that fiery temper of hers, I’d say.” Gillian only half listened now as she recognized the dilemma. If Violet had been Zachary’s fiancée before they were married, then she was still promised to him. “Violet was your fiancée?” Gillian asked. A million emotions swept down on her. One felt disturbingly like jealousy. Gillian didn’t like it. What right did she have to be envious? She didn’t have time to dwell on it, Lotti fussed, while making excuses for her grandson. “Now, now, don’t worry about Violet Ellsworth, dear. She will have to get over the fact that Zachary has found his soul mate.” Lotti patted Gillian’s hand. “Violet had grand ideas of being Mrs. Creighton. They were never officially promised, nor would they ever have been.” Ellery chuckled, a grin plastered to his face. “Violet will be spitting mad when she hears about the nuptials.” Gillian met Ellery’s gaze and shook her head. He knew Lotti was in the dark about how the loving couple truly met. Soul mates, indeed. He better keep his mouth shut. If anyone was going to tell her, they would. Zachary nudged Ellery to get his attention, giving him a warning look to be quiet. Ellery sighed and mouthed, “Don’t worry.” Good, he wouldn’t give them away, but he couldn’t seem to wipe the silly grin off his face. Zachary glanced Gillian’s way and saw the hurt look in her eyes as if he had betrayed her in some way. Surely, she should understand that he had a life before her, but still he felt like a complete heel. “Listen,” he began searching for just the right words to make light of this situation. “I never told Violet I would marry her.” He wondered why he felt the need to defend himself. It wasn’t as if he had been unfaithful to Gillian. “No? Well, tell that to Violet,” Ellery added. “Frankly though, I have to say you did so much better for yourself. Violet is beautiful, but that woman is extremely selfish and that temper of hers is downright scary.” He shuddered. “She’d have made your life miserable.”

“Enough of Violet.” Lotti raised her cane and gently poked Ellery in his midsection to get his attention. “We have a party to plan.” Gillian eyed Lotti’s cane before her gaze latched onto Zachary. He had the distinct feeling she’d like to use the cane on him. Lotti stood and took her grandson by the arm leading him away from the others. “Come walk me to the door.” Once they were out of hearing range, she turned to him. “Make that appointment right away to have those dresses made. That poor woman cannot be seen in that attire and definitely not with those shoes; they are simply dreadful.” She opened the door but before she left, she turned to Zachary and searched his eyes. “Now that you are married, you are going to give up this endless pursuit of obtaining Creighton Manor, aren’t you?” “Lotti…” What could he tell her? He couldn’t let it go. He wanted Creighton Manor more than anything else on this earth. He couldn’t let the manor stay in the hands of Cyrus Locke. It would mean his sister and her husband died in vain. If it were the last thing he did, he would bring Cyrus to his knees, making the man beg him to take the manor off his hands. “You don’t have to say more," Lotti said. "I see it in your eyes. You haven’t given up this ridiculous pursuit. Zachary, mark my words, you’ll be sorry one day. You have a charmingly beautiful woman in there. Make a life with her; start a family. It has been far too long since a baby has been around. I am itching to have my hands on a wee one again.” She smiled wanly up at him. “Now give your grandmother a kiss. I have to be going.” He leaned forward and gently kissed her cheek. He whispered in her ear, “Slán go fóil.” He looked into his grandmother’s eyes that were so much like his own. They twinkled with amusement. “You still remember the Irish words.” She became serious then, a frown lining her brow. “Don’t think you can butter me up Zachary Creighton, with our childhood game we played.” He gave her a look of complete innocence. “Bah!” she said, giving into his charm. She then returned the goodbye. “Slán leat!” Tapping her cane, she turned and went on her way. In the mean time, Ellery made himself right at home. He had taken a seat next to Gillian and had her laughing over some ridiculous tale. Zachary almost didn’t want to disturb them. He enjoyed the carefree way Gillian acted with Ellery. Her rich laughter floated to him like a warm caress. He had been with Gillian for a whole day, and all he managed to do is make her incredibly angry. In a matter of minutes, Ellery had her relaxed with a smile lighting her face. When Zachary finally entered the room, the two fell silent. Ellery cleared his throat and rose from the sofa. “Gillian, it has been a pleasure. I will see you soon.” Zachary walked Ellery outside and shut the door behind him. “I want you to do me a favor, Ellery.” Ellery knew his friend was serious and put all kidding aside. “Name it?” “I want you to pull some strings and find out who Gillian Metcalf really is. I want to know if she has any family or anyone… you know, special in her life.” “Wouldn’t it be easier to just ask her?” “I have, but something doesn’t seem quite right. All I want to do is check her story out. She claimed to be from Huntington Beach, California.”

Ellery thought about it before he answered. “I haven’t heard of Huntington Beach, but again, new towns happen to pop up out of nowhere.” “Just check it out. Mostly, I want to know if there was anyone special in her life. You can start with the name Jerry. See if there is anyone by that name residing in the town she mentioned.” “Zachary, do you believe she has a fiancé out there?” “I think she was abandoned by a man, maybe this Jerry character. I want to know who he is.” “Are you going to see if this man will take Gillian off your hands? Because if that is the case, I will be more than happy …” Zachary lifted his hand to halt Ellery from saying anymore. “I have no intentions of letting Gillian go. I want to know if this man will cause any trouble.” “I have to say I’m amazed. I don’t believe I’ve seen you interested in anything other than your precious Creighton Manor. Obviously, Gillian is a wonderfully long awaited distraction.” Zachary harrumphed. “Just check on her story.” Ellery sighed. “I’ll see what I can find out.” “Thank you. I knew I could count on you.” “Yeah, yeah.” He was already walking away before he threw over his shoulder, “Thank me, if I come up with any information you want to hear.” CHAPTER SIX Zachary took Gillian to Lotti’s dressmaker, informing her he’d be back in a few hours to pick her up. Gillian was measured, poked and measured again by Lotti’s seamstress, a French woman named Miss Sophia. She was an elegantly tall woman with regal manners. She looked more like a ballerina than a seamstress. She even wore her dark hair in a tight bun at the base of her neck, showing off her swanlike neck. “I am done.” She smiled and patted her shoulder. “I believe you are pleased, no?” Gillian wanted to yell for joy. She’d had enough for one day. Right now, she missed her department stores back home where she found what she liked on the rack. “The dresses will be completed and delivered to your house in two days. I have a special material I’ll use for the dress you’ll wear at your reception.” Sophia smiled. Gillian nodded. No sense in telling her she hoped to be back in her time before the reception. “Now let me fix your hair.” She clicked her tongue. “You are married now. You must look the part. I will arrange your hair in a thick French braid and with a few pins, I’ll wrap it into a bun.” Miss Sophia also altered a gown for her to wear home. A customer asked for the dress to be made, but never come back for it. With the few alterations, it fit her perfectly. It was a pretty powder blue and made out of the finest material. It would have felt soft against her skin, but Miss Sophia insisted she wear a corset. As soon as she arrived back at Zachary’s, she’d burn the contraption. While she waited for Zachary, she had a chance to take a good look at the river town. She watched the people as they hurried on their way to wherever they needed to go. The dressmaker’s shop stood

at the end of the street. Taking a few steps to the left, just past the barbershop, she could see the boats and ships on the water with the steam billowing into the clear blue sky. The trill of a riverboat's unique whistle echoed in the distance. Two boys ran past her. “It’s the Diamond Fair rounding the bend.” “I can hear the whistle, you know.” The boy turned to look at his friend behind him and didn’t see the woman until it was too late. He plowed into her. She lost her footing and all her packages flew from her hands, scattering around her. The little brat didn’t even stop to apologize, but continued on his way laughing as if he’d performed a comedic act. Gillian ran over to help her. “Some children can be so rude.” She bent down to pick up the parcels. The woman was striking with dark skin of ebony. Her eyes were just as dark and framed with long thick lashes. She stared at Gillian with an expression filled with unease. “Thank you ma’am.” The woman accepted the package. She gathered the rest and rose quickly to her feet. Her eyes flickered warily around before she turned and walked away. She glanced back at Gillian, a hesitant smile touching her lips before she gave a slight nod of her head. Gillian stood there for a moment wondering why the woman acted as if she were afraid. She glanced around noticing a few patrons staring, some of them with a look that condemned her for her actions. Then the unsettling realization weaved through her consciousness. This wasn’t her laid-back beach town, but the Deep South, 1870 where prejudices ruled their thinking. The war freed the slaves and destroyed fortunes. The boll weevil will attack the cotton crop, if it hadn’t already and the railroads would soon threaten the river trade. They needed someone to blame for their misfortunes. Mississippi returned to the Union less than six months ago, and they were a long way from accepting it was morally wrong to own another human being. Her gaze caught and held a man’s who stood in the doorframe of the mercantile. His eyes narrowed with a cold stare meaning to intimidate her. She refused to be bullied and tilted her chin up in defiance. Surprisingly, he looked away first and went back inside his shop. She let out the breath she’d been holding. She returned to the boardwalk and out of the mud to wait for Zachary. She noticed two men had taken a seat on a bench in front of the barbershop. She recognized one of the men as Cyrus Locke. She stood just to the side of them, hoping he wouldn’t see her. The last thing she wanted was to have more attention drawn to her. They were looking over a newspaper and commenting on one of the articles. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but she recognized the topic of their conversation. “Hannibal, you can’t believe what it says here.” Cyrus tapped the paper with his hand. “Cannon and Leathers are at it again. They have posted cards now. Cannon’s card reports that his steamer, the Robert E. Lee will leave Louisville on the 30th of June, but will not be racing. He assures the community that the safety and comfort of his passengers comes first. “Even Leather states the rumors are not true. The Natchez’s reputation as being fast is enough satisfaction to him. He assures everyone concerned he will not race any boat that may leave the same day.” Cyrus folded the paper and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know about you Hannibal, but I don’t believe a word of this. They'll race. I bet Leather’s boat will win, too.” "No, I don't think so,” Hannibal said as he shook his head. “Cannon is the one that will pull this off.”

The two men headed down the walk still debating on who would win. Gillian chuckled. If she had any money, she would place a bet herself since she already knew that John W. Cannon and his ship the Robert E. Lee would be the winner. Gillian looked down the walk. “Where are you Zachary?” Perhaps he forgot about her. *** Zachary strolled at a leisurely pace, tipping his hat in greeting to those he knew, and flashing a smile now and again. The town bustled with people loading up supplies, banking, and other business they needed to complete before heading home. His eyes briefly touched an attractive woman leaning against the building, trying to seek some sort of shade. He looked away only to have his gaze riveted back to her. If it hadn’t been for the auburn hair that shone bronze and gold in the sun, he would have passed Gillian right by. His look traveled up and down her disturbingly attractive figure. The new dress fit snugly around her slim waist, and her long locks were braided and arranged to compliment her delicate features. “Hell and Damnation,” he whispered under his breath in a slow whistle. “Breathtaking.” He strolled up beside her and whispered in her ear. “Well good looking, did you miss me?” She turned toward him with a radiant smile. Amazingly, she actually appeared happy to see him. “Where have you been?” “So, you did miss me,” he teased. He pulled out his pocket watch and opened it. "I'm right on time." "Hmm, is that so? Let me see.” She glanced at his watch. “My what a beautiful time piece.” Gillian reached for his hand to see the watch better. He tilted it toward her. He liked how her skin felt warm and soft against his. The gold watch was engraved with a fancy scroll and there were rose diamonds inlaid around the front of it and down the chain. The face of the watch told the time and there was a date hand and second hand too. Zachary was proud of his watch and wanted to show it off. He purposely pushed one of the buttons and a lovely tune played. "I've never seen anything like it." "There were only a handful of them made. This was my grandfather's. Luckily, Lotti didn’t give it to my father or he would have surely lost it in a game." Zachary closed the watch and put it back in his coat pocket. "That reminds me. I have something for you. It's something that I have been safekeeping for some time." He fished through his other pocket. Finding what he searched for, he took her left hand in his, and carefully slipped a small gold band on her third finger. “It was my mother’s. She was petite like you are. I thought that it would fit.” Gillian brought her hand closer to look at the exquisite ring etched with delicate roses. The ring was an heirloom or at least would be one day. It was something she was sure Zachary must cherish. She couldn’t accept it since their marriage was only temporary. She was going home to her century. “This is beautiful but I can’t... ” Zachary gently put his finger on her lips, not allowing her to say the words. “I want you to have it. We have a marriage reception to attend. We can’t very well show up there without wedding bands.”

“I hadn’t really thought about having a ring. What about you?” He lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers. The gold band shone bright on his ring finger. “See we’re all official.” He took her arm in his. “Well Mrs. Creighton, are you ready to meet my nephew?” She didn’t answer at first. She was thinking how right Mrs. Creighton sounded to her, but how could it? She shook the thought from her mind. “I would love to meet Tyler. Lead the way.” They headed down the walk and toward where Zachary had left the carriage. “You look lovely by the way,” Zachary told her. “Do you like your new outfit?” She looked down at herself and then to him. “Yes, thank you, but I’m burning the corset as soon as I can.” His brows shot up and he chuckled. “You will have no complaint from me. I never understood why women wore the contraptions anyway. I take it there weren’t any kid shoes available at Miss Sophia’s?” He pointed to her feet. She glanced down, seeing her tennis shoes peeking out from below her dress every time she took a step. “The shoes are going to be sent to the house along with the other dresses. My feet are still a little sore and I didn’t want to break in a new pair.” “Odd-looking shoes, if you don’t mind me saying so. Where did you purchase them? I have never seen anything of the sort.” “Oh… well they were... specially made.” How did she explain tennis shoes when they hadn’t been invented yet? She glanced at Zachary. His brows drew together and she had the feeling her explanation didn’t sit well with him. She needed to distract him. The less he knew of her world the better. “So, does Tyler know about me?” “Hmm? Oh, yes, I am sure Lotti has brought him up to date.” Gillian nodded. “Mr. Creighton?” a man called to Zachary. He waved as he jogged toward them. “Who’s that?” Gillian shaded her eyes to have a better look. “Mr. Gurney’s assistant.” “Who?” “The local photographer,” he whispered to her before he shouted his greeting, “Hello, Mr. Norman.” The man reached them and inhaled deeply to catch his breath. “Hello Mr. Creighton... uh Miss…” He looked a Gillian. “This is Mrs. Creighton,” Zachary made the introductions. Mr. Norman’s face beamed. “Why Mr. Creighton that is fabulous. It is nice to meet you, ma’am.” He tipped his hat before he looked at Zachary again. “I would sure appreciate it if you and Mrs. Creighton would pose for me. The lighting is just perfect.” He didn’t exactly wait for an agreement, but ran back to where he had left his tripod. Zachary leaned near. “Mr. Norman’s an eccentric. He is always photographing the town for one reason or other.” “Norman,” she said the name thoughtfully. “Does his first name happen to be Henry?” Zachary looked at her just as Mr. Norman snapped the picture. “You know him?” “No, I’ve heard of him.” “You have? What have you heard?” She smiled. “All good.” “That’s not what—”

“Did we do all right, Henry?” She waved to catch his attention. “Henry? You’re on a first name basis with him?” She ignored Zachary and stepped down from the walkway. Henry ran over to them again. “Yes, it was perfect. Thank you kindly for your assistance Mr. Creighton, Mrs. Creighton.” “It is an honor to meet you.” Gillian took his hand and shook it. Henry’s eyebrows rose and he tugged on his collar. Gillian didn’t notice. She was in awe. She couldn’t believe she met Henry Norman of all people. She admired his work. The man captured details that might otherwise have been lost. He would one day photograph the Omnibus that ran hourly from the river landing, the gorgeous interiors of the J.M. White and other steamboats. He had photos of wagons piled high with cotton, and the devastation caused by flooding. Henry Norman was there for all of it and he knew how to capture the moment. “Your work will one day be the most extensive collection of the nineteenth century.” She finally realized she was still shaking his hand and let go. “Look at me go on.” She laughed. Henry smiled with a nervous chuckle. “Thank you.” He looked at Zachary and the grin slid off his face. Gillian followed his gaze and frowned. Zachary stood there with a murderous scowl penetrating his feature. “Well thank you again,” Henry said before he turned and hurried away. Zachary’s nostrils flared as he turned his attention on her. “What?” Gillian shrugged. “What indeed. If I didn’t know better, I would think that you were infatuated with Mr. Norman.” She chuckled. “Don’t be absurd. I admire his work, is all.” “He’s only the assistant.” “Not forever he won’t be. Come on, we don’t want to keep Lotti waiting.” “What work does Henry have on display?” “Geeze, you’re like a dog with a bone. Really Zachary. If you keep up this up, I might think you’re jealous.” He harrumphed, but he stopped interrogating. They reached the carriage and Zachary took hold of Gillian’s arm to help her into her seat. “Zachary Creighton!” a woman shouted his name. “Now what?” he mumbled under his breath. Gillian turned. A woman stomped toward them, her arms swinging at her sides. Her fists were balled as if she’d like to punch someone. She would have been beautiful with reddish colored curls that bounced with each step, but her lips were pinched together in a thin line and her blue eyes flashed with unbridled anger. “Zachary Creighton!” she screamed, again drawing the attention of everyone who stood near enough to hear her, which was quite a distance. She glared at Gillian with pure hatred in her eyes. Then she turned her attention back to Zachary. “You... ” She fought for the right words she wanted to lash out at him. She must have decided there weren’t any. She lifted her hand and brought it down squarely against Zachary’s cheek. The woman then turned on her heels and stomped off in the other direction. “I take it that was Violet?” Gillian stared after the woman. “Uh huh.” He inhaled deeply. “You have a way of bringing out the best in women, don’t you?”

He rolled his eyes and she grinned. Without another word, he walked around to the other side of the carriage. CHAPTER SEVEN Lotti had brought Tyler home, and Gillian and Zachary found him playing in back of the house. Tyler screamed in delight and ran to greet his uncle, plowing into him as if he were a linebacker. Zachary laughed and picked him up, twirling him around before he placed him firmly back down on the ground again. “I’d swear you have grown an inch if not more since last week.” Zachary ruffled Tyler’s hair. “Really? Do you think so?” He grinned from ear to ear. “I’m sure of it.” Tyler looked at Gillian in awed fascination. “Is that the lady you married? Is she to be my aunt now? She’s much prettier than Violet, if I do say.” Gillian immediately liked the freckled face Tyler. Zachary turned his gaze to her and answered, “I hadn’t thought about it, but I do believe you’re right.” “Aah Uncle Zachary, you’re teasing me. You know she’s pretty. Why else would you have married her?” Zachary avoided the question. “So what have you and Lotti been up to?” Tyler’s face lit up as he talked. It wasn’t difficult for Gillian to see how much Tyler adored his uncle. Zachary could tease Tyler into laughter. Tyler reminded Gillian of someone. It was his expressions, the quick smile, the tilt of his head and the way his eyebrows lifted right before he chuckled. Tyler didn’t resemble Zachary in coloring. Zachary’s hair was dark and his eyes were blue. Tyler had sandy color hair, and his eyes were a deep brown. She didn’t have the chance to dwell on it. A dog’s sharp bark drew her attention. She turned her head and shaded her eyes. “Oh no.” She felt the blood drain from her face. She took a step back. It was the dog, not any dog, but the dog. She knew there had to be a connection with this animal and the reason she ended up in Zachary’s cabin. What it was, she hadn’t the foggiest idea. Was she to go back now? She felt a wave of panic course through her. She wasn’t ready to go. Before she could decipher the meaning behind that crazy thought, she grabbed a hold of Zachary’s arm in a deathlike grip as if he could stop her from being whirled back to her time. “Hey, don’t be scared. That’s just Molly. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Gillian looked at him in surprise. She didn’t understand. “This is your dog?” He chuckled. “More like she adopted us. She showed up one day and decided to stay.” Molly slid to a stop in front of them and rolled over, begging to have her tummy rubbed. “She’s always doing that,” Tyler said as he plopped down on the ground. “You silly dog.” He scratched Molly’s stomach. “There girl, is that the spot?” Gillian released her grip on Zachary’s arm and knelt down. Molly sat up and tilted her head to the side as if she were waiting for Gillian to say something. “Why did you bring me

here?” Gillian whispered as she nuzzled her neck. She leaned back and Molly licked her face. “She likes you.” Tyler’s freckled face lit up. Tyler’s smile was so familiar. A dim ripple flittered across her mind, making her think she should know why. “Do I call you, Aunt Gillian?” Tyler asked breaking through her thoughts. Zachary answered for her. “You do indeed.” He sat down beside Gillian and gave his attention to Molly. Gillian wondered if it was really a good idea for Tyler to call her aunt. She wasn’t going to be his aunt for long, but Zachary seemed to want to carry the charade to the fullest. “Lotti says she’s going to throw a party for the both of you. Can I go?” Tyler pleaded. “For a little while, then you will have to go upstairs with Dora. The party will probably last long into the night and growing boys need their sleep.” Tyler petted Molly while he scrutinized the two sitting beside him. Being a little boy, he thought nothing of asking what was on his mind. “Where did you two meet?” Zachary cleared his throat as he stalled for time. Gillian didn’t want Tyler to know how they really met. Some secrets were best not told. “We met aboard the Ida Belle. You’re uncle being the charmer that he is, swept me off my feet.” So she embellished little. A little white lie wouldn’t hurt. “No,” Zachary interrupted, “I believe it was you, my dear, who swept me off my feet.” Gillian chuckled. “So I did.” “Is that why I have never seen you before?” “That’s why,” Gillian replied. “Uncle Zachary was Violet real angry when you said you wouldn’t see her anymore? ‘Cause I think she rather fancied you.” Gillian again supplied the answer. “Oh, she took the news quite well. Matter of fact, she congratulated us this afternoon. Didn’t she, honey?” Gillian smiled and batted her eyes innocently. “Hmm, yes.” Zachary cleared his throat. “Why don’t we head back inside and find out what Dora has made for dinner.” Dora Chandler was an older woman, thick with age and hair nearly a solid gray. She had worked for the Creighton’s since Zachary was a child. She cooked, cleaned and helped take care of Tyler when Zachary left on his gambling adventures. She was genuinely thrilled to find out Zachary had settled down and married. It didn’t matter to her in the least that she’d never seen Gillian before today. For dinner, Dora cooked lamb chops, vegetables and sweetbread. For dessert, she served them a fruit cup and coffee. Everything tasted wonderful. Gillian couldn’t remember eating so well. She usually popped her meals in the microwave. There had to be something said for a homemade meal. Afterwards the three settled in the library. Tyler entertained them with his stories. Gillian sat back sipping her coffee and listened. Zachary transformed into this good humored and easygoing man, another characteristic of her complex husband. She could learn to like this side of him. “Aunt Gillian, do you know any card games?” “I know a few.”

“Will you show me?” “Sure.” Gillian showed him how to play concentration and they played for quite a while before Dora came looking for Tyler. “Tyler, I think it is high time we get you settled for bed,” Dora announced bustling over to him. “Do I have to? I’m not even tired.” He yawned. Gillian smiled. “It has been a long day,” Dora told him firmly. “You best get some sleep. Come along now.” “Okay.” He stood with reluctance. “I’m glad you came to live with us, Aunt Gillian. You make Uncle Zachary smile. Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.” “Good night, Tyler.” She stood and put the cards on the desk. Tyler thought she made Zachary smile. The boy obviously missed the scowls. Where did Zachary go anyway? As if her thought conjured him, he appeared in the doorway with a half-cocked grin, making her fantasize how those lips felt pressed to hers. She looked away trying to temper her thoughts. No matter how disturbingly attracted she found him, she would have to keep her hands off. She didn’t belong here. “I have a surprise for you.” His voice sounded strange, huskier. She looked at him again her eyes wide and questioning. “It is something I believe, you might enjoy. Will you come with me?” She hesitated but then curiosity won out. She nodded and walked over to him. He took her hand as he led her toward the kitchen. “Close your eyes.” “Zachary, I don’t—” “Trust me.” His gaze held hers, blue eyes pleading with her. “Lead on then.” She closed her eyes. He draped his arm around her, leading her forward. His hands lying heavily upon her shoulders, his mouth close to her ear, he whispered, “You may open your eyes now.” Her eyes fluttered open and her breath caught in her throat. “Oh Zachary.” Next to the stove there stood a tub filled with water. “A bath.” She sighed as she looked at him. “Have I pleased you?” Zachary’s masculine lips twitched at one end. “Pleased me? I love it! Zachary Creighton, I could kiss you for this.” His deep chuckle strummed down her spine. “I would humbly accept such an offer,” he teased, but instead of pursuing the matter, he moved deliberately away. He walked over to the table. When he returned, he took her hand and placed the soap and washcloth securely within her grasp. “The soap is handmade and guaranteed to please a lady. I took the liberty of having your nightclothes…” He nodded toward her sweat suit, “… washed. There have been strict orders for you not to be disturbed. If you need anything, all you have to do is holler.” He turned to leave, but Gillian gently placed her hand on his arm to stop him. His gaze lingered on where her fingers brushed his skin before he looked up at her. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I take back all the rotten things I have been thinking about you.” Humor lit his eyes. “Should I even ask?” “No. You might take this luxury away.” He chuckled with a shake of his head. He left the room shutting the door behind him. ***

Zachary didn’t miss how relaxed Gillian had been in Tyler’s company. He liked it when she smiled. The way her lips curved and her laughter rang sweet like a bell. He couldn’t help joining in. He wished he could bring out her carefree disposition as easily as Tyler seemed to do. He marveled that only yesterday morning he had been a free man with no intentions of changing the status. Now he was married to a woman he knew nothing about, and yet he felt he belonged with her. There were moments he felt he had done this all before with her. Her touch, a smile directed at him, they were familiar, but yet he knew they couldn’t be. He had to admit, Gillian stoked a fire in his soul. Maybe his grandmother was right. He should settle down and forget his pursuit of Creighton Manor. Isn’t that why he had invoked the plan to seduce Gillian? He glanced at the closed door and knew she was soaking in the tub… naked and wet. He cleared his throat. Zachary wished he could take her in his arms and have his way with her. He leaned heavily against the door and closed his eyes. Her appeal overwhelmed him until he could not see reason and yet he didn’t understand why when she proved unwilling to be with him. Violet had been relentless with her pursuit. She was beautiful. No one would deny the fact, but the woman pried on his nerves. She’d hover until he felt smothered. Gillian got under his skin but for entirely different reasons. Hmm, perhaps she proved a challenge and this was her allure. A challenge, yes, this had to be the answer. Gillian didn’t want anything to do with him, romantic or otherwise. God knew he loved it when the odds were stacked against him. Then when he won the hand, victory tasted so much better. Gillian claimed she loved another. Right now, the man Gillian fancied held all the right cards. “Not for long my friend, not for long.” He wanted to win Gillian’s hand. It was as simple as that. She was his wife, which was a definite advantage over this gent. He would woo her. He chuckled. “Woo her?” Who would have thought he’d want to pursue a woman when he had thought he wanted to be a bachelor? However, now that marriage had been thrust upon him he wanted to make a go of it. “This feels right.” He ran his hand through his hair. He didn’t know how he could be so certain, but there was truth to the words. She belonged with him. All he had to do was convince her. *** With the door closed now, Gillian quickly removed her clothing. The corset proved a little more difficult, but finally she managed. “As soon as I can find a way, you’re toast.” She shook the corset and threw it to the side. She took care in stripping the bandages from her feet. They had been screaming to be released from their confinement all day. Testing the water and finding it the way she liked it, she lowered herself into the tub and issued a sigh of pure satisfaction. She lathered the soap that smelled slightly of lilac. She decided to wash her hair too, since she wasn’t sure when she would have another chance. When she had finished cleansing herself, she rested her head against the rim of the tub and closed her eyes. She savored the moment, giving her an opportunity to collect her thoughts and maybe comprehend how she ended up here. “It has to be the dog,” she mumbled. Molly had appeared to her four times, each time urging her to follow. Since she had been led directly into Zachary’s life, she could only assume she was to help him in some way.

Then maybe she would be led back to her time. Of course, she had no idea if her assumption was right, but she had to start somewhere. It was in her nature to work out problems and being stranded in the nineteenth century proved to be a dilemma. She would stay close to Zachary. “Hmm, might be difficult.” She knew he was attracted to her. His advances proved that well enough, but she couldn’t quite count out her emotions either, not when her heart danced with excitement when he glanced her way. She went over his qualities: Arresting good looks, charming, generous and the way his nephew looked up to him, she knew he was a good father to the boy. However, it was imperative that she kept a clear mind, so she didn’t miss what she had been sent here to do. She didn’t even know if she was supposed to do anything. However, starting a relationship with Zachary didn’t seem appropriate. He belonged in the nineteenth century and she, the twenty-first. Talk about a generation gap. Still, he was a man, an attractive man and she was a woman. What was she trying to say? Somehow, her thoughts had wandered, her eyelids felt heavy. She felt relaxed as she let the warm water melt away her worries. She would close her eyes for a moment and rest. A smile touched her lips as she recalled her father’s words when she caught him dosing: I’m not sleeping. I’m just resting my eyes. The next thing she knew the door crashed open, and the urgency in Zachary’s voice startled her. She gasped, sitting up straight not realizing she was still in the tub. Zachary’s breath caught in his throat. She realized her nakedness and with a gasp, she lowered herself back into the water. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What are doing in here? I thought I was to have some privacy.” “I’m sorry, but you have been in here for quite some time and I became worried. When I knocked on the door, you didn’t answer. I thought... well, I thought... ” He cleared his throat. “I can see you’re all right,” he said as he backed himself into the wall. He fumbled for the door handle as he clumsily made his exit, closing the door behind him. How long had she been in here? The water had become chilled and one look at her prunelike fingers, she knew it had been more than a few minutes. She stepped out of the tub and quickly dried off. She slipped on her own clothes. It felt wonderful to be back in something familiar. She decided against putting on her shoes though. She folded her towel and took her dress, her Nikes and the dreadful corset up to her room. Then she went to look for Zachary. He was in the library. He had opened the jib windows, obviously in hopes to promote some circulation in this heat. Zachary had changed his stiff collar shirt into something a little more comfortable. He sat on the sofa with his legs outstretched as he nursed a glass of wine. He came to his feet the moment he noticed her standing in the doorway. She could see his eyes smolder with passion and she questioned her sanity for coming in here dressed in clothes of her century, showing her calves and a little skin at her waist. Zachary’s gaze drank her up. He gulped down his wine then placed the glass down. “Your hair is still wet. I don’t want you catching your death.” She almost laughed because it was still quite warm though the sun had set hours ago. Without saying a word, she let him lead her into the room. She sat down with her feet curled up close to her body and her arms wrapped around her knees. He took one of the blankets draped across the sofa and began drying her hair with it. He stood close, too close, but she didn’t move as his hands worked their magic. He patted and rubbed as he dried her hair.

“How are the blisters on your feet?” he asked. “Much better, thank you.” “Let me take a look.” She tried to object, but he wouldn’t let her. He moved to sit next to her and took each foot, inspecting them for himself, while she leaned back against the arm of the sofa. His hands were gentle and tender as he inspected. He had no idea what turmoil he caused with her emotions. She chewed on her lower lip as a shudder of pleasure slid over her. He glanced up to meet her gaze. “Are you cold?” He thought she shivered because she was cold, and she wasn’t about to correct him. She had a mission here. She had to remain focused and not let his tantalizing touch get to her. She refused to have a meaningless fling and unfortunately, that is all this would ever be. Not trusting her voice, she only nodded. He stood up and had her scoot in front of him allowing her body to lean against his as he wrapped his arms around her like a warm blanket. A voice in the back of her mind told her she should get up, run to her room and lock the door. She wasn’t safe with him. Who was she kidding? He wasn’t safe with her. She closed her eyes trying to think of anything other than how the tingling effects of Zachary’s touch spread through her like wildfire. Zachary leaned near, taking in the fragrance of her clean, damp hair. The memory of how she looked in the tub came back to haunt him… her glistening wet skin, her hair lay slicked back from the recent washing and her luminous green eyes widened in surprise. He imagined she looked like a mermaid caught in a net, frantic to be free. His lips curved. He had her now. She felt good in his arms. She belonged there, and it didn’t matter to him where she came from or what her past might hold. It only mattered she was here now, married to him and he wanted her to be his. He gently moved her hair away and kissed the nape of her neck. He could feel her pulse quicken with every touch. She didn’t move, and he thought that perhaps she held her breath. “Gillian?” His voice caressed. She turned in his arms so he cradled her. He looked at her and saw the same passion he felt mirrored in her eyes. He wanted to taste her lips but hesitated, afraid to rush. “Remember, seduce her gently,” he said to himself. However, her soft lips parted and that was his undoing. His mouth covered hers hungrily. His conscious mind screamed at him to temper his haste, but his body ignored the warnings. His hand slid beneath her strange garment that barely covered all of her. His fingertips touched her warm flesh. Gillian raised her hand to stroke his rugged face. She kissed him back. She loved the way he felt and the way he made her feel, her senses were throbbing with the strength, the touch and the scent of him. His hand swept to the back of her neck as he deepened the caress that was full of passion and need. The sweet throbbing of his lips made her shift closer causing a low grumble from him as his tongue moved into her mouth with urgency. In the back of her mind, she wondered if he could possibly be the man she dreamt about for she had never felt this way in another man’s arms. Jerry had known how to awaken her physical being with his touches, but Zachary made her heart and soul respond. If only Zachary would say the words that haunted her, she would know she belonged here. She took a breath. “Zachary, we—” His mouth moved over hers, smothering her words. His hands explored the soft lines of her back, her waist and she didn’t protest as he began to discard her clothes. Nor did she stop him from removing his as passion pounded the blood through her heart, chest and head. So eager for his touch, she forgot everything else.

She buried her hands in his hair as his lips brushed her nipples with pure and explosive pleasure. Her desire for him overrode all thoughts, sending her beyond the point of no return and she welcomed him into her body, gasping in sweet agony. She clung to him desperately as he thrust, rocking her hips to meet him until they tumbled over the last edge of pleasure. He rolled over, taking her with him so she lay on top of him. He sighed in pleasant exhaustion and a smile curved his lips. “You truly are my wife now.” She stiffened at those words. She gave herself willingly and he thought she gave a commitment to what? Did he believe they could make this marriage work? He played with the tendrils of her hair, letting them slide through his fingertips. “Gillian, I —” “Stop.” She didn’t let him finish as she scrambled out of his embrace, gathering her clothes. She turned away from him. She covered her skin that Zachary had kissed only moments before. “This can’t happen again.” Her voice shook. He stood and walked over to her. She stiffened at his touch, but he made her turn to look at him. Her eyes pooled and a tear slid down her cheek. “Why do you fight it? You feel the desire as I do.” She chewed on her lower lip, wanting to tell him the truth, but knowing she couldn’t. His gaze locked with hers refusing to let her go as the sexual electricity sparked between them. She felt a painful ache building between her legs and if he reached for her now, she wouldn’t be able to resist. No, she couldn’t allow it. She had to sort out her thoughts, arrange them, and impose order before it was too late. She had to make him think she didn’t care about him. “This was nothing, but sex. You don’t love me and I most certainly don’t love you.” She angrily pulled away, taking a step back. “Really. You feel nothing? Then why are your cheeks flushed from the passion we both shared? Why are you crying? You must feel something.” She brought her hand to her face. “Please Zachary, you don’t understand.” “Explain it then.” “I don’t belong here. One day I’ll have to leave.” His brows furrowed. “I don’t want you to leave. You’re my wife.” “Yes, yes I do believe I was present at our wedding, even though it was nothing more than a farce.” “You can call it what you like, it still doesn’t change the fact that we are married. I am assuming you have been informed of what is expected of a wife?” He took a step toward her. Seeing his intent, she tried to side step him but he was too quick. He grabbed her arm and pulled her against his chest. Her words of contempt were smothered, as he kissed her. He didn’t allow her to break away. She struggled at first but as her body responded, her struggling ceased and she surrendered. Then he let her go. Defeated, she hid her face against his chest. He tenderly rubbed her back, his voice gentler now. “Don’t fight it. Let me take care of you. We can build a life together. Please don’t cry.” She couldn’t help it. She cried more out of frustration than anything else, but he wouldn’t understand. “I’m here, and he’s not. If this man you pined for truly cared for you, he would have never relinquished his love.”

Gillian heard what Zachary said. He proclaimed everything she would want to hear except there was no mention of his love. He would probably think her old fashioned, but she wanted it. She wanted the man from her dreams. She wanted to hear him speak the special endearment meant only for her. That man loved her completely and her soul wept for his touch. She refused to settle for anything less. She broke away from his arms. “I’m sorry. We aren’t meant to be together. Fate has other plans for both of us.” Tears streaming down her face, she ran upstairs to the safety of her room. *** Zachary ran his fingers through his thick hair, frustrated and angry with himself. This hadn’t been how he wanted the night to end, but once his lips and hands touched her, he couldn’t stop. It was as if he knew her every curve, knew how to stoke the fire within her to take them both over the edge and he did with sweet ecstasy. What could the man she loved have that he couldn’t give her? Jealousy was something he abhorred and he refused to see that was exactly what ate at him. Someone else held her heart. He couldn’t see a way around it and yet he needed to if he wanted to win her hand. Their marriage may have been forced upon them, but he wanted it to work. He wanted her to fall in love with him for he felt he was halfway there himself. He paced back and forth until he couldn’t stand the confinement. He knew he had to get out of the house or suffocate. CHAPTER EIGHT Sprawled on her bed, Gillian hugged the pillow as she wondered how her vow not to become involved shattered so easily. With one touch, she responded to Zachary’s seduction of passion. What was wrong with her? She should have stopped him. As if her situation here wasn’t complicated enough, she had to go and make it worse. Something wet nuzzled her arm and she jumped away. When she heard the pathetic whine, she felt completely foolish. “How did you get in here, girl?” Molly barked. Gillian leaned forward and rubbed Molly behind the ears. Molly yapped again then whined. “What is it girl? Are you trying to tell me something?” Again, she barked but this time she moved toward the closed door. Molly stood there looking at it then back to Gillian. Gillian swung her legs over the side of the bed. She somehow sensed that Molly wanted her to follow. In the dim darkness, she slipped on her Nikes. She went to her purse and took out her mini flashlight. She had a hunch they were going somewhere and she had no plans of stumbling along in the dark. “Okay Molly, I’m ready.” She told her as she opened the door. Molly immediately bolted out of the room and down the stairs. Even though, Gillian had heard the front door slam hours ago, she couldn’t help poking her head in the library. It was just as she had suspected. The room stood empty making her

wonder where Zachary had gone. For a fleeting moment, she imagined him in Violet’s arms, but she quickly pushed the distressful image from her mind. She turned toward the door and to where Molly waited for her. “I’m going to open the door, Molly, but if I’m to follow you, you have to go a little slower. I’m not a sprint runner.” Molly wagged her tail and barked her reply. *** Zachary headed toward the Under-the-Hill saloon, where for a few hours at least, he planned to forget his problems. When he walked in the front door, the noise blasted him with rowdy patrons. Billowing cigar smoke clouded the room and stung his nostrils. He heard a girl’s highpitched shrills as she offered illicit love for the night, and a man who’d had too much to drink banged on the out-of tune piano. The setting fit Zachary’s dour mood perfectly. He sauntered over to the bar with a purpose. He usually didn’t drink to excess. One reason was his father. The man ended up losing his self-respect; and two, because if a gambler wasn’t careful, he could lose his life from pure carelessness. However, tonight he didn’t heed his own warnings. Vince Kendricks stood behind the wood-carved bar, towel-drying a glass. He looked up when Zachary leaned against the bar. “Good evening, Mr. Creighton. What will it be tonight?” “Whiskey.” Vince handed him a shot, which Zachary downed in one gulp. “Another,” he said as he slammed the glass down. Vince lifted his brows. “It isn’t like you Mr. Creighton to have more than one glass. Is something amiss?” Zachary chose to ignore the question. “Another,” he repeated. He noted Kendricks’ hesitation. “Is this a saloon or not?” Vince poured the drink. Zachary downed it again before he turned around and scanned the tables. He was pleasantly surprised to spot Cyrus Locke sitting in on a game at the far corner of the saloon. A game of cards would take his mind off his problems, and being able to torment Cyrus was an added bonus. “I think I’ll see if I can sit in on a game or two. Give me the bottle, will you?” Vince reluctantly handed it to him. Zachary nodded his thanks and headed over to the table. Cyrus noted Zachary’s intrusion with a huff. “What brings you here tonight, Mr. Creighton? You look mighty retched, if I do say so myself. Are you having trouble with your little woman already?” Cyrus’ chuckle grated on Zachary’s nerves, but he chose to ignore the jibe. “I’d like to sit in on a game,” Zachary stated. He glared down at his rival, daring him to object. Cyrus gave him a once over and a dismissal all in one breath. “We don’t need anyone else, Mr. Creighton, why don’t you go home and play a game with your misses.” There was snickering all around, but one blazing glare from Zachary, quieted the table immediately. “I want to sit in on a game,” he repeated as he took a swig out of his opened bottle. One of the men stood. “I was going to head home.” He nervously glanced at Zachary. “Why don’t you take my place?” Nobody argued.

Zachary plopped down taking another long drink, letting the liquid burn his throat. Cyrus sneered. “Earlier this evening, I entertained everyone with the tale of your drunken display on the Ida Belle. No one believed me.” He eyed the bottle Zachary clutched. “You’d do best not to gossip.” Zachary glared. “Now, deal me in.” They had been playing for an hour. Zachary was on his second bottle but somehow managed to win almost every hand. “Does your wife know you’re here?” Cyrus asked. Zachary narrowed his eyes. “Why are you so concerned with my life?” “No reason. I just thought you’d be too preoccupied with your new bride and wouldn’t …” “What? Have time to harass you?” Zachary clicked his tongue. “I will always have time for you.” “I once thought your pursuit against me amusing, but it has become tedious.” “I suppose it would, since I win and you lose.” Cyrus’ nose flared. “Zachary Creighton, you have proved a thorn in my side and I plan on removing it.” “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Locke.” “I wouldn’t dream of it. It’s a promise.” Zachary would have said more, but he noticed Ellery stood in the doorway, motioning to him. “Well Cyrus, I guess it will have to be another night. I have business that needs my attention.” Zachary stood and swayed. He blinked the room into focus and headed over to Ellery. They left the saloon and walked toward the waterfront. “So did you find out something about Gillian?” Zachary slurred, making Ellery look at him questionably. “Have you been drinking?” “What of it? A man can drink, can’t he?” He managed to say even though his tongue felt like it was three times its normal size. Ellery shook his head. “Really Zachary, you must slow down.” “Just tell me what you have.” “As you wish. What I found out was the lady you are married to must have given you an alias. No one has heard of Gillian Metcalf.” They had reached the river’s edge and came to a halt. The fog had rolled in, giving the water an eerie effect as if it swirled with smoke. Ellery continued, “Not only did she not give you her correct name, she lied about the city. There isn’t any Huntington Beach. She must have made up the town, too.” “Hell and damnation!” Zachary ran his hand through his hair. “Who is she?” “I can keep checking if you want. She couldn’t have appeared out of thin air aboard the Ida Belle. There must be someone who knows her.” “It’s him that’s behind this?” Zachary slurred. “I should have known.” He let out a loud bark of laughter. “What a fool I have been. It’s so obvious.” “What are you babbling about?” Ellery asked. “Just how much have you been drinking?” “I haven’t had that much to drink.” Zachary leaned heavily on him. “Your foul breath betrays you, my friend.” He rolled his eyes. “Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?” “By all means, continue.” Ellery steadied him on his feet.

“Cyrus Locke set this up. Gillian must know him. That’s how she ended up in my room. He arranged it, from her screaming and him coming to the rescue, finally his accusation, which I couldn’t readily defend. He’s trying to ruin my name, my reputation. Gillian has no intentions of staying with me.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s it. That’s who she’s in love with.” “With whom?” Ellery frowned. “Cyrus Locke.” Zachary said, as if this was a known fact. Ellery burst out laughing. “You really have had too much to drink if you think Gillian would be interested in Cyrus Locke. That’s ludicrous.” “Is it? He has Creighton Manor.” Worry darkened Ellery’s expression. “I know you will disagree, but not everyone wants possession of Creighton Manor.” Zachary frowned and waved his hand. “Fine, then it is money. Cyrus is loaded. He didn’t lose a dime during the war since he kept his money tied with his Northern connections. He probably offered her a fine price. Well, I won’t let him get away with this. His little scheme won’t work because he forgot something.” “What’s that?” “I’m married to his mistress and I won’t—” Ellery placed a hand on Zachary’s arm to quiet him. They both heard the distinct echo of boots on the wooden planks and searched through the drifting fog for the men. “Who’s out there?” Zachary demanded. “Show yourself.” Two men burst through the haze, guns drawn. One grabbed Ellery, holding a gun to his head. The other aimed a gun at Zachary. His mouth curved in an evil grin. “Good bye, Mr. Creighton.” Zachary lunged at his assailant, slamming into him as he pulled the trigger. The bullet went wild, whizzing over his head. They rolled on the ground both grappling for the weapon. *** Gillian followed Molly, but she worried she wouldn’t be able to find her way back to the house. Then another worry flitted across her mind. The heart of the town loomed ahead and she recalled how the people aboard the Ida Belle reacted toward her twenty-first century attire. She glanced down at what she wore with a sigh. “I should have changed.” They reached the water’s edge where the fog thickened. In the distance she could hear a piano playing and laughter from the Under-the-Hill saloon. Just great, Molly took her to the questionable part of town where killings probably happened and no one lifted a hand to stop them. She’d had enough and wanted to head back, but then she heard the gunshot. Molly’s fast pace turned to full speed charge. Gillian ran to keep up. Her heart pounded in her chest with a sinking feeling. “Zachary!” she cried and ran faster to reach him. She came upon Ellery first and a man holding a gun to his head. Molly circled them, nipping at the assailant’s ankles. The distraction aided Gillian. She jumped on the assailant’s back, pounding his head with her flashlight. The man let go of Ellery, trying to fend her off. Ellery whirled around and grabbed the gun away. Ellery gasped. “Dear God. Gillian? Is that you?”

“Get this crazy woman off me,” the man screamed. Gillian was more than happy to oblige now that she saw Ellery held the weapon. She jumped off and pushed him forward. “Get on the ground and put your hands over your head,” Ellery demanded. The man threw himself down. Gillian searched the dock for Zachary. She could hear scuffling and grunts. Then she saw him. Zachary fought with another man who towered over him. She saw a flash of what looked like a knife in Zachary’s hand. The man must have had a knife too for he lunged at Zachary. Zachary grabbed his side and staggered backwards. Gillian screamed and ran forward, but she couldn’t reach him in time as she helplessly watched him fall backwards into the water. Without a thought of what might be below, she jumped in after him. It was dark and foggy, but she saw him break the surface. She swam as fast as she could to him, grabbing a hold of his shirt, as he was about to go under again. Gillian treaded water grateful for all the years of training she had when she was on the swim team back in college. The gunshot must have roused the people of the town. Gillian couldn’t see anyone, but she heard people shouting to her. She had to hold onto Zachary. He had become so very still. “There they are!” She heard someone yell. She felt something hit her. It had been a rope, but it slid away before she could grab hold of it. The second time it was thrown, she was ready. She pulled the loop over her head with one hand and under her armpit. That’s the best she could do, she couldn’t let go of Zachary. Slowly, she felt herself being pulled in and someone taking Zachary from her. She shivered and Ellery tried to put his coat around her but she refused, pushing her way through the crowd in desperation to reach Zachary. She saw a man leaning over him and shaking his head. Gillian screamed, “No!” She didn’t risk her life to see him die. She shoved the man aside. She knelt down beside him and tilted his head back, blowing air into his mouth in a desperate attempt to breathe life back into him. She heard someone’s horrid cry, “She’s kissing a dead man. Get her away from him.” Gillian felt hands trying to pull her away. She shook them off. Every moment was vital if she was to save him. She sat on him and pushed upward on his midsection trying to force the fluid out of his lungs. A few more thrusts and water spurted out of Zachary’s mouth. He choked as he struggled to draw in air. The man to her side moved in quickly and lifted his head. “She saved him. By God, he’s alive!” Shaking, Gillian rose unsteadily to her feet and this time she allowed Ellery to place his coat around her. “Gillian, you risked your life. You could have drowned.” She looked up at Ellery. “Zachary would have died if I didn’t go in after him.” His brows lifted. “You do care for him, don’t you?” “Of course I care. Why would you ask such a thing?” “Why indeed.” His lips pierced together. “What?” “Nothing.” He shook his head. “Let’s get you home and into some dry clothes.” “But Zachary–” “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Zachary is in capable hands.”

CHAPTER NINE Gillian may have rescued Zachary from drowning, but his life hung in the balance as fever racked his body. The knife hadn’t hit anything vital, but the mud and dirt from the river must have caused an infection. Gillian knew a quick dose of antibiotics would have taken care of this but there was none to be had. Instead, they had to wait and pray his body would heal. Tyler walked over to Gillian. “Don’t let him die too, Aunt Gillian.” She looked at the small boy, drawing him near. He had lost so much. Losing his parents at such a young age was more than he should have to endure. “I don’t want anything to happen to him either, but it’s in God’s hands.” Tyler nodded. He stayed for a while, but Dora dragged him away. Gillian refused to leave. Gillian leaned close to Zachary’s ear and whispered, “You have to fight to live. There’s a little boy who needs you.” She brushed the matted hair from his brow and added tearfully, “I need you, too.” Zachary stirred giving her hope he heard her. Zachary felt disoriented, lost. What happened to him? He felt like someone had set him on fire and he was slowly burning. His eyelids were matted to his face and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t open them. When he thought he would give up all hope, he heard an angelic voice, a beacon calling to him. Then he remembered he had been on the dock, fighting for his life. The man had a knife and he’d used it, hitting his mark. His pain had robbed him of his breath and he couldn’t stop himself from falling back into the water. When he broke the surface, he could have sworn he saw an angel soar through the air after him. Her arms closed around him as the all-consuming darkness overtook him. She was here with him now. He wanted to reach out to her but his limbs wouldn’t obey. They felt heavy, weighted down. He yelled to her to help him, but she couldn’t hear his silent plea. Then her voice faded into the fog-like darkness and he was alone again. *** Tyler worked the mathematical problem Gillian had given him. If anyone else had asked him to do school work during the summer, when he could be down by the river or playing catch with the other kids, he would have flat out refused. He really liked his Aunt Gillian. He admired her too for saving his Uncle Zachary from drowning, and would do anything to please her. He glanced to where she sat on the porch, petting Molly. “Do you know everyone wants to meet you?” She looked up. “Me? Why?” “You’re famous that’s why. They’re calling you the angel of the night. You survived the perils of the river, and you brought the dead to life,” he repeated what he heard Ellery tell the man at the paper. Gillian’s gaze drifted to the upstairs window. Tyler looked, too. His uncle slept fighting for his life. It had been two days, and he still hadn’t regained consciousness, but he knew he’d be all right. Aunt Gillian said it was in God’s hands. Surely God wouldn’t let Aunt Gillian save Uncle Zachary if He didn’t mean for his uncle to get better.

Gillian sighed. “People are making more out of this than they should. Anyone could have done what I did.” Tyler smiled. “Yeah, but they didn’t, did they?” *** Lotti looked out the window from Zachary’s room. She could see Gillian and Tyler below with Molly not far away. Truth be known, Lotti had had her doubts about Gillian and Zachary’s marriage. She sensed that there was something out of the ordinary about it, but whatever it was that made them rush into matrimony, she was glad for it. She saw the way her grandson’s eyes lit up when Gillian walked into the room, and for once, he seemed more interested in something other than Creighton Manor. As for what Gillian had done the other night proved right there how much she cared for Zachary. The woman had saved her grandson’s life without a care for her own. If that didn’t speak of love, nothing did. Lotti glanced at Zachary, who hadn’t stirred. Although she never would let anyone know, she was having a difficult time dealing with all of this. She couldn’t endure the thought of having to bury another loved one. When she looked back out the window, she noticed Tyler and Gillian had risen. She knew Gillian would be back up here to check on Zachary. Unless she was forced to, the woman barely left his side for more than a few minutes. Lotti moved to the seat next to her grandson’s bed and waited. Just as she had predicted, Gillian opened the door and came in. “Any change?” She walked over to the bed and put her hand on his forehead. “He doesn’t seem as warm.” She watched the rise and fall of his chest. It was slow and even. She glanced at Lotti. “The fever’s broken. Surely, that means he’s going to be all right.” Lotti took her grandson’s hand in hers, hoping this was so. “Zachary, can you hear me?” Zachary seemed to stir at the sound of his grandmother’s voice. “Seanmháthair.” His voice croaked in a hoarse whisper. “Omigod, he’s delirious again.” Gillian touched his forehead. Lotti smiled. “I see you are on the road to recovery if you are going to call me a name that I most certainly loathe.” Lotti noticed Gillian’s confusion and decided to clear up the matter. “When Zachary and his sister were younger, I wanted them to learn the Irish language. Zachary being stubborn, as I’m sure you know, didn’t want anything to do with it. So, I made up a game. To play, they had to decipher the messages. Zachary never realized what I was doing.” “You tricked me,” Zachary croaked out the words in a forced breath. “Yes, I did and glad of it.” Gillian sat down on the bed. “What did he say, Lotti?” “Grandmother.” Gillian chuckled. She helped Zachary sit up and placed two pillows behind his back. Zachary rubbed his hands over his face. “What happen? I feel like I’ve been beaten to a pulp.” “Well where should I start?” Lotti sighted. “You were stabbed and nearly drowned. You’ve been unconscious for two days. I’ll tell you, you have put us through a terrible scare.” “Stabbed? Yes, I think some of what happened is coming back.” He cleared his throat with a cough. “May I have some water, please?”

Gillian went to the nightstand to pour him a glass. “I was with Ellery. He wanted to tell me—” Gillian handed him the glass. “Tell you what?” He looked at her then away. “I don’t remember.” “No wonder, too.” Lotti clicked her tongue. “You were foolishly drunk.” “No lectures now, Lotti. I’m too tired to defend myself.” He leaned against the headboard and closed his eyes. CHAPTER TEN Zachary slept for another full day before he felt well enough to be awake for more than a few hours. Eventually, he moved downstairs to the library. They propped him up on the sofa with a blanket around him as if he’d freeze to death in this sweltering heat. How he hated feeling like an invalid. He looked around the room noticing for the first time that things were different. Cheerier, is the word he would use. There were fresh flowers on the mantle and a new rug in front of the fireplace. They were such subtle changes but they made a world of difference. He knew it was Gillian’s doing. He liked what she’d done, but it didn’t change the fact that she had lied to him. The memories of a few nights ago had flooded back with intense reality. He had been foolishly drunk when Ellery had informed him about Gillian. The details were muddled, but he thought Ellery confirmed Gillian had made up the story about her identity. With nothing better to do, his imagination ran wild. In his mind, he had concocted the whole conspiracy against him in vivid detail. Gillian was sent to distract him from his goal to obtain Creighton Manor. The plan had worked wonderfully too. She had indeed been a diversion. And damn it, if he hadn’t welcomed it! He hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything, but her, since they were married. He had learned from his grandmother both of the attackers had gotten away. This didn’t matter, he knew who’d been behind the assault. Cyrus Locke was the culprit, and Gillian had helped arrange the whole escapade. Her game was now over. He wouldn’t allow her to occupy his time ever again. Lotti said she would be by later and she would bring Ellery with her. That would be the perfect time to expose Gillian. *** Dora made tea for the ladies, while Zachary and Ellery indulged in something a little stronger. Zachary tried to keep his black mood hidden, but by the looks Gillian gave him, he’d lost the battle. He’d been snappy with her all day and she didn’t understand why. Soon my sweet, you will. He looked at his best friend then his grandmother. Their good humor grated on his nerves. Lotti he could excuse, but Ellery knew Gillian to be a liar. How could he be civil to her? He’d had enough of this charade. He had wanted to wait until Tyler had gone to bed, but he couldn’t contain himself a moment longer. “Stop!” he shouted drawing everyone’s attention to him.

They gaped at him in stunned silence. “I want it all out in the open,” he continued. “Everything.” He looked directly at Gillian. “Tell them Gillian or whoever you are. Tell them all how you’ve been deceiving us.” Ellery put down his glass. “Zachary, don’t say anymore until we’ve had a chance to talk.” “No more talking. I want Gillian to tell us who she is, and who she’s working for.” He pointed his finger at her. “That’s enough, Zachary!” Lotti exclaimed in irritation. “You’re talking nonsense.” “Am I? Ask her. Ask her where she’s from.” Lotti huffed. “What difference does all this make?” “It makes all the difference in the world.” He glared at Gillian. “If you aren’t going to tell them, I’ll say it then. She’s from a town that doesn’t exist. She doesn’t exist.” Gillian shrunk beneath his gaze. She chewed on her lower lip, knowing she’d been caught. Good. He had her where he wanted her. “Tell us why you and your lover wanted to have me murdered.” He didn’t bother to keep the venom from his voice. Her head snapped up and her gaze locked with his. “Lover? Murder?” she stammered. “What are you talking about?” “Don’t pretend you don’t know someone tried to murder me on the dock.” “I know someone tried to harm you, but surely you can’t –” “Stop with the lies.” He shook his fist at her. “Zachary.” Ellery stepped in. “Yes, we know she wasn’t telling us the truth about her name, but the rest you are accusing her of is false.” “Has she bewitched you, too? You were there with me when we were viciously attacked.” He couldn’t stop the raw fury that knotted his gut every time he thought of how Gillian had deceived him. “Yes, I was there. I witnessed what occurred. Obviously, you don’t remember everything or you wouldn’t be treating the person who saved your life with such disregard.” “Saved me?” Zachary’s eyebrows furrowed and a ping of doubt gave him pause. Gillian had saved him? “What are you talking about?” “Gillian saved your miserable hide. That is what I am saying.” “That’s impossible.” Zachary shook his head. “Impossible?” Ellery’s voice had risen. “She did. If she hadn’t jumped into the river after you, you would be dead. She held onto you. Moreover, she breathed life into you when everyone else had given you up for dead. So if you say another unkind word to her, I’ll punch you in the nose, regardless of the fact that you are not fully recovered.” Zachary looked at Lotti and Tyler, then back to Ellery. They were glaring at him as if he were a monster. Could what Ellery claimed be true? His gaze riveted back to Gillian. She stood there strong with her chin lifted, refusing to let his berating tear her apart. His voice softened a little, as he remembered something he had forgotten. “I do remember thinking I saw an angel soaring in the air to my rescue. I thought it was a dream.” “That was no dream. That angel my friend, was Gillian.” Ellery gave her a look of admiration. Blood pounded in his temples as he absorbed the shocking news. If she saved him, she couldn’t be Cyrus’ mistress, could she? Then who was she? He shook his head. The fact remained: Gillian Metcalf didn’t exist. Gillian didn’t want to pretend anymore. She would tell them the truth no matter what the outcome. She took a deep breath for courage. She would need it to convince them. “You’re

right, I don’t exist yet, but I will. I do live in Huntington Beach, California, but not until the twenty-first century.” Everyone’s mouth dropped open in surprise. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, the look would have been comical. They all wanted to know who she was, but they never expected her to say she was from the future. “I know this seems unbelievable to you, but it’s true. I don’t know how I came to be here, but I think Molly has something to do with it.” “Molly?” Tyler, who had remained silent through Zachary’s tirade, finally had the courage to speak up. “Yes, Molly. Your Molly. She appeared to me on numerous occasions, as though she wanted me to follow her. Finally, on the Queen Mary, she appeared again. I must have blacked out. When I woke up, I was in Zachary’s room aboard the Ida Belle.” Lotti looked confused. “I thought you two knew each other.” Gillian shook her head. “No. I had never seen him before that day.” “How did you end up getting married then?” Lotti wanted to know. Ellery filled her in. “Because of all the yelling and knife throwing –” “Knife throwing?” Lotti gasped. “What does this all have to do with anything?” Zachary cut in. “Didn’t any of you hear? She just claimed she was from the future. Now, I for one –” “Zachary Creighton, you be quiet this instant!” Lotti glared at Zachary, daring him to say another word. He flustered and looked like he’d like to object. Instead he folded his arms defensively across his chest and snapped his mouth shut. “What I understood,” Ellery continued to fill in the blanks for Lotti. “Gillian tried to escape and Zachary threw a knife at her.” Lotti’s glare turned dangerous. She pounded her cane as if she’d like to knock it over Zachary’s head. “Cyrus came to the rescue and insisted Zachary marry Gillian to protect her reputation or he’d make sure the whole ship knew of his unsavory actions.” “I didn’t want to marry him,” Gillian added. “But, I didn’t know what else to do. I had no place to go, and I didn’t know how to return to my time.” “You said Molly brought you?” Lotti inquired. “I was staying in a haunted room aboard the Queen Mary. This is a ship in my time. It’s supposedly haunted,” she explained. “Then the next thing that I knew, I was onboard the Ida Belle and Molly wasn’t anywhere to be seen. In fact, I thought I had imagined her, dreamt her up somehow, but when Zachary brought me home… to his home,” she corrected herself. “She was here.” “Are you sure the dog was Molly?” Lotti asked. “If I wasn’t sure then, I am now. Molly led me into town and to where Zachary and Ellery were being attacked. She must have known they were in danger.” “So, the dog must be the key.” Ellery rubbed his chin. “I think so. I have a theory. Maybe Molly brought me here to do something and maybe when I accomplish that task, I’ll return to my time.” Zachary rolled his eyes. “Not you too, Ellery. Surely, you do not believe this preposterous story.” His friend shrugged. “Well, how else would she know where we were?”

“She followed me, that’s how.” He let loose a breath of half frustration and half disbelief. He looked at Gillian. “If you are from the future, prove it.” “How?” Gillian wondered what he expected her to do. “Dear woman, there must be something.” She tapped her finger on her chin. What could she say that would make him believe her? “We’re waiting.” His doubting expression was really beginning to piss her off. “What about my Nikes?” She lifted her skirt to show her tennis shoes to everyone. Zachary wasn’t going to be so easily convinced. “That doesn’t prove anything. As far as we know, you could have gotten those from Paris. They are always ahead of the fashion.” Gillian licked her lips and tried to think. “I know.” She snapped her fingers. “I should have thought of this, first.” Gillian ran out of the library and upstairs to her room. She came back with her purse and took out her wallet. She removed her California license and handed it to Zachary. Ellery looked over Zachary’s shoulder and Lotti and Tyler walked over to view the mysterious item Gillian claimed would prove she was from the future. They stared at the thick material. “Amazing.” Ellery took it from Zachary. “It’s like a calling card of sorts. Nice portrait by the way,” he commented on her photo. “Thanks.” She gave him a quick smile. “What does this prove? You had it made,” Zachary accused. “What is this license for anyway? Star jumping?” he added sarcastically. “No, it’s a license for a car.” No one said anything. “Automobile... horseless carriage.” “There’s no such thing.” Zachary huffed. She sighed. “I know there’s no such thing now, but there will be. Henry Ford will experiment with engines about 1890, and he will make the first gasoline engine in 1893. He’ll call it an automobile. The Model T will be the first automobile sold at a price that most people can afford. Of course, that won’t happen until the early 1900’s or so.” “We’re supposed to wait twenty-three years to see if you are telling the truth?” Once more, Zachary folded his arms against his chest. Gillian would have liked to slap the smirk right off his face. She had to think. Something must have happened in 1870. Then she remembered. “I have it.” “Oh please, tell us. I can’t wait to hear this one.” “Not only will I tell you something that will prove my story, it will also give you a chance to win Creighton Manor back from Cyrus Locke. It’s the race between the Natchez and the Robert E. Lee. It will happen at the end of this month.” “They posted cards stating they weren’t going to race. I saw it in the paper myself.” Zachary shrugged. “I know they did, but trust me they’ll race. It’s the biggest gambling event of the century. It will start on June 30th and the race will run from New Orleans to St. Louis.” “Are you positive this is going to happen?” Ellery obviously wanted to hear more. “I'm sure. Leather's with the Natchez has already beaten the J.M White's time. Right?” Ellery nodded. "Yes, I do believe, I heard the tale.” "Cannon has a competitive nature and he can’t stand that Leather’s beat the record. He will strip his ship, the Robert E. Lee down and he won’t take any passengers. He’ll then arrange for refueling midstream. Leather on the other hand will be completely confident that his ship will be able to beat the Lee. He’ll end up taking on freight and passengers

without making any preparations. The results will be disastrous for the Natchez. The Robert E. Lee will break the New Orleans-St. Louis record. Her speed will be three days, eighteen hours, and thirteen minutes.” “That’s impossible. No one could make a ship move that fast. That’s a whole hour or so less than J.M. White’s record,” Zachary proclaimed. Ellery shrugged. “Why not. I can see the possibility. She did say Cannon would strip his ship and that would allow for more speed.” She met Zachary’s glare without flinching. “I’m giving you proof.” “All you have to do, Zachary is wait until the end of the month.” Lotti chuckled as she turned to Gillian. “If you had to remember something dear, did it have to be a gambling event?” “Sorry, it’s the best I can do.” Gillian smiled sheepishly. “Well, Zachary, do you want me to place your bet?” Ellery laughed. “Don’t calculate your winnings yet,” Zachary spat. “Surely, you’re not going to risk losing your money over this impertinent tale?” “You won’t have to lose your money.” Gillian drew everyone’s attention once more. “I overheard Cyrus talking to another man in town. He thought the Natchez would win. You want Creighton Manor back, don’t you? Convince Cyrus to bet with you personally for Creighton Manor. In exchange if you lose: You will promise him that you will never again enter a gambling establishment where he will be attending.” Zachary looked deeply into those sea green eyes. Frustration did a dangerous dance inside his head. If she told the truth, she offered him a gift. Creighton Manor could be his for the taking. Hell and damnation—he wanted to believe her. He wanted to trust her. God knew, even when he believed she had deceived him, he still wished he could take her in his arms. He yearned to touch her, feel the softness of her hair as it slid through his fingers. God, he should want to let her go and end this farce of a marriage, but the harder he had tried to ignore the truth the more it persisted. He cared for her more than he wanted to admit. As if their relationship wasn’t complicated enough, she claimed to be from the future. If she told the truth, the man she loves must be there, too. How could he ever compete for Gillian’s affection, if the man she loved wasn’t been born yet? Again, he went over every aspect of the fantastic story she had told them. It just couldn’t be true. She had to be speculating about the race, like everyone else. She had to be lying and he would find out her purpose later. Two could play this game and he planned on using her ploy to his advantage. His lips slid into a smile. “Let’s make a little wager of our own, Gillian, shall we? What will you promise me if you’re wrong about your prediction?” “I don’t have anything to give you,” she stammered. Zachary knew everyone stared at him, all wondering what in the world he would request. He had no wish to share it with them. “Please, do you mind?” He waved his hand at them. “I would like a moment of privacy.” Lotti had to drag Ellery out, but they left the two alone. Zachary motioned with his hand for Gillian to sit next to him. She did but with some reluctance. “You have me alone. What is it you want from me, Zachary?” “What indeed.” He gave an exaggerated sigh before he spoke, “My request, my dear is: If you are wrong and I lose, you will become my wife fully in every sense of the word.” Gillian blinked. “I don’t understand. Why?”

He lifted his hand and caressed her soft hair. He wanted to tell her that she left a burning imprint on him. Her smile, her serious looks, all her expressions would haunt him forever. He would hunger from the memory of his mouth on hers, the touch of her smooth skin and the way she came alive under his careful touch. Instead, the words came out laced in bitterness because he knew she loved someone else, and because he didn’t want to believe her tale she came from the future. “I’m very possessive of what is mine, and I’m not willing to let you go.” She flinched at his cold and callous statement. “I see. I’m a possession like your Creighton Manor. I thought—” She clamped her mouth shut and looked away. “Thought what?” What had she wanted him to say? She looked at him. “It doesn’t matter.” He searched her face, but she hid her emotions well. Fine with him, better she did. “Well, do we have a deal?” “I may not have a choice if I stay here. I showed up unexpectedly and I may return in the same manner.” “Remember, I’m a gambling man. I’ll take my chances.” “I know my history, Zachary. I’m right about the outcome of the race. You’ll win the bet with Cyrus and lose the bet with me. What I want to know is what I get from all this?” He shrugged. “I’ll let you choose. If you want to stay, you may do so. If you choose to leave, then I’ll give you this house and money to support yourself. Whatever you decide, I’ll agree to. It’ll be your choice.” She nodded. “Okay. It’s a deal, if that’s what you want?” “It’s what I want. I’m not sure what game you are playing but as I see it, I have a fifty-fifty chance of winning.” Zachary wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that statement. Yes, he wanted Creighton Manor, but his auburn-haired wife had somehow managed to make him long for something more. Then the truth of his wager hit him full force. No matter the outcome of the race, he would still lose one way or the other. CHAPTER ELEVEN Lotti cornered Zachary and insisted on giving him some grandmotherly advice. Zachary yawned, trying to feign exhaustion, but to his dismay, she refused to fall for it. “How do you know she didn’t come from the future? You said it yourself that Gillian Metcalf does not exist. Frankly, I’m tired of your pigheadedness. Why do you still refuse to see the truth?” This was about the third time they had been over this. She thought he was pigheaded. He refrained from telling her where he learned the trait. “Lotti, there’s a logical explanation why she doesn’t exist. Gillian isn’t her name. She’s after something. I just haven’t figured out what it is yet.” “What could she be after? For God’s sake, she saved your life. She sat by your side day and night, trying to nurse you back to health.” Why did Gillian save him? Did she actually care for him? He ran his fingers through his hair. She was a walking contradiction. She wanted the marriage annulled, but she slept with him. She claimed she loved another, but she risked her life to save him. She took care

of him as if she… He shook his head. No, she didn’t love him. She made that clear with her declaration of loving another. He should forget about her, but he found he couldn’t erase her from his mind. He wanted to know everything about her. What made her happy? What was her passion? He wanted to make love to her again. His gut clenched as his body reacted to the memory of them together. He missed the warm imprint of her lips while his fingers tangled in the rich luxurious auburn strands of her hair. Hell and damnation. He sounded like he was falling in love with her. This would be a foolish move on his part. Sure, fate landed her in his room aboard the Ida Belle, but what did he know about her really? Time travel… it was nothing more than a fantastic story, but doubt played havoc with his emotions. What if she were telling the truth? Fear closed like a fist around his heart and he wiped his damped palms on his pant legs. If she were from the future, then one day she would return to her century. “We should try—” Lotti tapped her cane. “Zachary, are you listening to me?” “Hmm? What? Sorry Lotti, you were saying?” “I said we should try to help her find a way back home. It is what she wants and what you want, am I not correct?” “I suppose so.” His voice lacked conviction. “Zachary, I may be old, but I’m not blind. I see the sparks between you and Gillian even if you’re both too stubborn to recognize the truth.” He harrumphed and crossed his arms across his chest. “Do you care for Gillian?” “What do you mean?” “It’s a simple question, Zachary. What do you feel for her? Are you in love with her?” “What a ridiculous question.” He wouldn’t meet his grandmother’s eyes. A mistake, since she came to her own conclusions. “You have to tell her.” “There’s nothing to tell.” She walked over to him and sat beside him. She placed her hand on his. He looked up meeting her gaze. “You have to tell her,” she said, firmly. He sighed with a shrug. “What would be the point… that is if I did care for her, like you are suggesting? She doesn’t belong in this time. If she is to return to the twenty-first century, what would it matter how I felt about her?” “Maybe nothing. Nevertheless, with all my years of experiences, there is one thing that still amazes me, and that dear boy is the power of love. People do all kinds of things for it. Impossible feats are met in the name of love.” Lotti clutched her cane and stood. She turned to look at Zachary before she left. “Listen to your old grandmother and tell Gillian how you feel before it’s too late.” CHAPTER TWELVE In the morning, Gillian hesitated about going downstairs and facing Zachary. He didn’t trust her and it was so unfair. She hadn’t really lied to him. She just stretched the truth because she knew he wouldn’t believe her. Who would? She had thought time travel a fantasy before she woke up in Zachary’s stateroom.

“You might as well face the music. You can’t hide in your room until the big race.” She opened the armoire and chose the light green dress that was trimmed with white lace and mint green ribbons. She donned the shoes that Miss Sophia had dyed to match. She brushed her hair until it shined, pulling it back away from her face with decorative combs and leaving the rest down. “I suppose I look presentable.” She took a deep breath and opened the door to her room. Lotti’s voice drifted upstairs and she smiled. “Bless you Lotti. I could use the support.” *** Zachary had dressed in his brown slacks and vest. He faced the fireplace. He leaned against the mantel for support as he listened to Lottie lecture him about proper etiquette. Lotti sat in the chair and tapped her cane when he disagreed with her. “We aren’t going to cancel the marriage celebration, Zachary. The invitations have already been sent out.” “You can tell them I have not yet recovered.” Zachary turned to face his grandmother, and noticed Gillian standing in the doorway. The need to state his argument slipped away. She was simply stunning with strands of auburn hair falling over one shoulder like a cascade of bronze and gold. He couldn’t seem to stop himself as his gaze traveled up and down and back again before his eyes settled on her kissable lips. Lotti followed Zachary’s gaze. She smiled when she saw why her grandson had been so distracted. “Gillian, come join us. We were discussing the last details of the party.” “I heard.” Gillian walked over to Zachary with a hesitant smile. She looked so lovely, so very feminine that Zachary forgot for a moment he didn’t trust her, shouldn’t trust her, but his traitorous heart still pounded against his ribcage, confirming he wanted her anyway. “Zachary, we should go through with the reception,” Gillian said. “It would be the best opportunity for you to convince Cyrus to make the bet.” He blinked and forced himself to look away. “I could do that anywhere.” “Yes, but it would be easier at the party. Everyone would be in good humor. The tension between the two of you would be lessened, giving you an opportunity to bring up the race in a general conversation. Then you can make your wager in front of family and friends. You’ll have witnesses and Cyrus won’t be able to go back on his word.” Zachary hated to admit it, but she did have a point. “Maybe.” “Then it’s settled.” Lotti tapped her cane again. “The party goes on as planned.” “I didn’t—” Zachary shook his head, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing. He had already wasted half the morning with no results. “Fine.” He threw up his hands. “We’ll attend the celebration.” “I knew you’d come to your senses.” Lotti eyes twinkled as she smiled. “Oh, before I forget. I’ll need to borrow Tyler, today.” “Why?” Both Gillian and Zachary voiced their concern. He met Gillian’s startled gaze. He realized she was nervous to be alone with him. Well, he didn’t fancy the prospect either when he didn’t know what to do with her. Lotti didn’t seem to mind their discomfort at all.

“I have some crates being delivered and Tyler would be a welcomed help if he would take the packages inside the crates upstairs. Too many trips up and down those steps, leaves me winded now.” Zachary sensed Lotti was up to something, but for the life of him he couldn’t think of what. “And,” she continued, “I need the two of you to go over to Yorkshire’s Linens and Lace and pick up the embroidered sheets I ordered. They are for the upstairs bedroom.” “Yorkshire’s is more than a half a day’s drive.” Zachary shook his head. “We couldn’t possibly leave this late in the day and make it back before it is dark.” “Really?” Lotti asked innocently. “I guess the two of you will have to spend the night and head back early tomorrow.” “I can stay here,” Gillian offered. However, it seemed Lotti had other plans. “Well that would be all right, I suppose. Actually, maybe it’s even better. Ellery did tell me he was going to come by tonight. Gillian could entertain him while you are away, Zachary.” That was enough to send him over the edge. There was no way in hell he’d leave Gillian alone with a womanizer. Ellery may be his best friend, but he didn’t trust him with any woman for long. “Ellery will just have to find us not at home. Gillian is coming with me.” He didn’t wait for Gillian to protest. He stormed out of the room. Zachary made the preparations needed for the trip, while all the time mumbling to himself, how his grandmother did too much meddling in his life. “A whole day alone with... ” Then it dawned on him. “So that is what you were up to.” He frowned as he wondered how he felt about that. Then a slow smile spread across his face. “A whole day and night.” He almost had a skip to his step now. Maybe he could turn this all around. Being alone with Gillian would give him the opportunity to show her just how charming he could be. He would wine and dine her. She was going to have such a wonderful time she wouldn’t have any thoughts of leaving him. CHAPTER THIRTEEN Gillian packed what she needed for the trip. She worried about spending the day with Zachary, but at the same time, her heart quickened at the thought. She sat heavily on the bed. What if she never went back to her time? What would she do? Could she remain married to Zachary? He was handsome, and honorable. If they had met under different circumstances, she would have liked him. However, was this enough to spend the rest of her life with him? She was stuck in the same dilemma that she’d been in with Jerry. Would it be fair to Zachary that she would be pining for a man in her dreams? Of course, there was one difference between Jerry and Zachary. Gillian had known she wasn’t in love with Jerry. She wasn’t sure what she felt about Zachary. She’d say she was only infatuated with him, but the words rang false. Zachary had kissed her—among other things— and he had turned her convictions upside down. She wasn’t sure if sexual tension was a qualification for having a long-term relationship, but it didn’t really matter. She doubted she would have the luxury of finding out. Zachary would win Creighton Manor and she would have to make the decision to stay with him or not. Did she want a man who thought of her as a possession? Of course she didn’t,

she answered herself. She’d be a fool to think she did, but there was something in the way Zachary held her and looked at her. Would she be willing to find out what it was? She sighed with frustration. “Why am I dwelling on this? I’ll probably go back to my time. I’ll have my life back and Zachary will be but a distant memory.” *** By mid morning they were on their way. Zachary didn’t push the horses. He took them by another part of town where magnificent mansions stood up on the hill. Unlike other Southern towns during the Civil War, Natchez had escaped being burned down to the ground. Zachary pulled back on the reins and stopped the carriage. “What are you doing?” Gillian looked at him. He turned in his seat and looked up. She followed his gaze. The large white house towered above all the others. The lower story had large columns, while smaller columns adorned the upper portion. In the front, there were live oak trees, dripping with Spanish moss. They nearly covered the French style roof. She could imagine the garden that once adorned the walkway. It was impressive to say the least. Even before Zachary spoke, she knew why they’d stop. This was the house that haunted him. This was Creighton Manor. She placed her hand over his. “It’s beautiful. I can see why you hold it so dear.” “It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s not just a house to me. This place is my family, my childhood and my memories of before … when life was simple. We were happy here.” His voice choked with passion. Tenderness swept through her as she realized what he had lost and how he had wanted to share it with her, to let her know a part of him that he kept secret from the rest of the world. He squeezed her hand before letting go. Then he clicked his tongue to put the horses into motion. They arrived at Yorkshire’s Linens and Lace only to find the store closed with a sign stating to come back tomorrow morning. The town bustled with activity as people hurried along with packages in tow. Zachary finally stopped one of the citizens to find out what was going on. They were told that there was a festival being held and they were welcome to join in the fun. Zachary thought it would be a good idea to go to the hotel, first. He picked up their bags and they entered the dimly lit establishment. It took them a few minutes for their eyes to adjust but once they did, Gillian noticed that the hotel was actually very quaint, reminding her of a bed and breakfast inn. A man sat behind the desk. He had a round face, huge brown eyes and absolutely no hair. When he smiled, he had one dimple that creased his right cheek. "Hello." His voice was deep and friendly. "Welcome to the Bowyer Hotel. I'm Mr. Bowyer. Are you looking to have a room?" "Yes, we are.” Zachary approached the desk and put down their overnight bags. Gillian followed. Mr. Bowyer opened a large book, picked up his quill, and dipped it into the ink. "So let me guess. You two are on your honeymoon. It is a fine time for you to be here, too. There's a festival going on, you know. There are games, pie eating contests and Mabel’s famous meatloaf. You'll have a wonderful time of it."

Zachary didn’t correct the man about them being on their honeymoon. He just smiled and played along. "My wife and I had no idea we would have such luck. We can't wait to join in the fun." "Well, let's get you signed in so you can get out of here. Can I have your names?" "Mr. and Mrs. Zachary Creighton.” Mr. Bowyer wrote very slowly in the book, and then he turned the book around so Zachary could place his signature next to what he had written. Then Mr. Bowyer stood and went over to the key peg. After careful consideration, he picked out a key on the top and came back to the desk. "This is the best room in the place. Being you’re on your honeymoon and all, I thought it appropriate." He handed the key to Zachary and pointed toward the stairs. "The room is the last one on the right." "Thank you, Mr. Bowyer." Zachary then looked at Gillian. "Are you ready, dear?” He didn't wait for an answer. He picked up the bags and headed in the direction that Mr. Bowyer had indicated. The room was large with a water basin next to the window, a dresser, a chair and of course one bed. Gillian latched onto Zachary’s gaze. "Well, you didn't expect me to say we wanted separate rooms did you? How would that look?" She knew it irked him that he had to defend himself. "I didn't say anything." "You didn't have to." He went over to the window and looked outside to see what the view held. Not looking at her, he said, "I'll sleep on the floor." "You’re darn right—" Gillian stopped in mid-sentence when Zachary turned to look at her, his eyes flashing with anger. "Listen, I said I would sleep on the floor." He looked like he was going to say more, but then decided not to. Instead, he took a deep breath. When he spoke again, he had softened his voice. "Can we call a truce? I don't want to fight." Gillian sighed. "I'm sorry," she offered. "A truce would be nice." "Good. You want to see what the town has to offer?" They reached the area where most of the town congregated and a tall lanky man ran toward them. "We be needin’ couples to run the three legged race. Are you game?" Zachary glanced at Gillian. Her smile was all the encouragement he needed. "Sure,” Zachary answered. "Where do we go?" He pointed to the left. "See the pretty young lady with the dark ringlets. She's lining everyone up. Hurry up. I still want to round up a few more people." He started running off, but called over his shoulder. "Meet you there." The girl with the dark ringlets handed Zachary and Gillian a scarf to tie around their legs. They stood next to another couple. They were hashing over their strategy of how they were going to win the race. Zachary cupped his hand and whispered to Gillian, “I think they’ll have another think coming.” “I’m with you.”

He looked down at her and grinned. The sharp bang indicated the race had started. Zachary wrapped his arm around Gillian’s shoulder and she held onto his waist. They ran as fast as they could. Most of the couples fell by the time they were about to reach the finish line, but the couple who had discussed their strategy with such detail was still up and hopping. Zachary and Gillian were neck to neck with them. Zachary took one look at the gleam in Gillian’s eye and smiled. Another trait about his wife, he hadn’t known: She didn’t like to lose. Zachary pushed a little harder, making them finish just a mere second before the other couple. The judge walked over to Gillian and Zachary with a broad smile. “I declare you two the winners!” Zachary grabbed Gillian by the waist and spun her around. The judge laughed, enjoying their merriment. As soon as Zachary placed Gillian on the ground, the judge handed them a blue ribbon. “Pin it on your little lady.” Zachary turned to her. “Do you mind?” She shook her head. He fumbled with the fabric, but finally he managed without pricking her skin. He met her gaze still smiling. He wished she didn’t look so damn beautiful with her hair loose from the pins and trailing down her shoulders. Her gaze caressed him, set him on fire. He gripped her shoulders. He wondered what she’d say if he claimed his prize and kissed her. One way to find out. He leaned down. “Hey, you two.” Zachary cursed under his breath and turned to see the lanky looking man waving them down. “We need another bloke for the pie-eating contest.” “I don’t think—” “Oh come on.” Gillian nudged him. “Fine. Where do we go?” “Follow me.” Unbelievably, the lanky looking man, whose name they found out was Henry Simmons, won. Where he had put nine pies, they couldn’t even begin to imagine. "So, do you want to get something to eat?" Gillian teased. Zachary rolled his eyes and rubbed his stomach. "I do hope you are joking?" "You don't want to try the meatloaf?” "Please don't mention food." He took her hand. "Let's check out the game booths." They talked and mingled and later on in the evening, they did try Mabel’s meatloaf. It was just as delicious as Mr. Bowyer claimed it would be. As soon as the sun had set, the torches were lit and the band took the stage. “Now this is what I miss.” Gillian smiled. “What? Music?” She looked at him. “Yeah. I’m used to having music at my fingertips.” His brows drew together. “How is that possible?” “There are CDs, I-pods, and radios. With a flip of a switch, you have a song.” He smirked. “I don’t know what those contraptions are, but live music cannot be beat.” “I’ve been to concerts. Perhaps, you’re right.” “Perhaps?” He shook his head. “Stay right here.” He headed for the stage.

“Zachary, what are doing?” He didn’t look back. He jumped on the stage and drew aside the band member with the guitar. The man had gray curly hair and a contagious smile. He wore bright red suspenders that he liked to snap. He nodded to Zachary and handed him his guitar. “What are you up to, Zachary?” she whispered. “Ladies and gents,” the gray-haired band member shouted. “We have a surprise tonight.” There were catcalls and whistles. The man waved his hands to settle everyone down. “Mr. Creighton will honor us with a song.” “Hey, he’s cute!” A pretty blonde shouted. “Are you taken, honey?” Gillian glared at her. “Afraid so, Ora Ann,” the man on the stage told her. “This here fellow is going to serenade his bride.” He pointed to Gillian. She knew she must have turned three shades of red as all eyes turned her way. She met Zachary’s gaze and he just gave her a shrug and strummed his guitar. He really was going to sing to her. Her hand went to her chest at the sweet gesture. “Dear sweet lady, come dance with me in the moonlight, come dance with me.” His deep voice rang out sure and strong. “Let me hold you close as we let the music sway us… come dance with me in the moonlight, come dance with me.” When the song ended, everyone cheered and clapped. Tears sprung to Gillian’s eyes. He made his way back to her with a twinkle in his striking blue gaze. “That was beautiful, Zachary.” “Better than the DC-pod.” She chuckled but didn’t correct him. “So much better. Thank you.” “Do I deserve a kiss?” He pointed to his cheek. “Absolutely.” She leaned forward to plant a kiss on his cheek but he turned his head and their lips met. She smiled. “Sneaky aren’t you.” “You bet.” He slid his hand to the nape of her neck, bringing her closer. Slowly, lazily and never taking his eyes off her, he lowered his mouth to hers with a sweet kiss, an unhurried kiss that set her toes curling within her shoes. When he released her, he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Do you want to dance pretty girl?” A wicked smile spread across his face. Oh yeah, she’d love to dance… in the moonlight… She shook her head and took a deep breath, while she reminded herself again why she shouldn’t sleep with her gorgeous husband. You don’t belong here. She cleared her throat. “Yes.” She looked toward the dance floor. “I’d love to dance.” On the dance floor, she leaned against him as the band played a slower tune. His arms slid around her making her feel safe. She didn’t want to fight with him. She didn’t want him to mistrust her. Maybe, she could manage both with patience. Maybe she could make him understand why she would have to leave him in the end. Later, they walked back to the hotel hand in hand, but once the door to the room shut for the night, awkwardness blanketed their actions. Gillian sat on the edge of the bed completely lost for words. They were married and they’d had sex, but they hadn’t slept in the same room. Nervously she played with the threads of the comforter and thought how ridiculous that sounded.

Gillian enjoyed Zachary’s company tonight. He had a carefree nature when he was away from his obsession with Creighton Manor. How she wished he could be the guy she longed for, the man who would love her. She knew he desired her. She felt it in the way his gaze lingered over her like a caress, but desire and love weren’t the same thing. Zachary cleared his throat. "If you want to get ready for bed first, I'll look the other way." Gillian knew her cheeks turned pink. “Sure, thanks.” What was the point? He’d already seen her naked. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She had seen him: Lean, muscular, his broad chest tapered nicely down to slim hips. She looked away. They were going to sleep. Nothing else was going to happen. She took a deep breath, forcing her feet to walk over to her suitcase. Before she started to undress, she glanced over her shoulder. Zachary was good to his word. He stared out the window. He clenched his teeth. The telltale sign throbbed at the sides of his jaw. This situation was uncomfortable for him as well. She dressed and jumped into bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin. “Okay, I’m done.” She watched him like a hawk. He turned to face her and frowned. “I won’t take advantage of you.” “I know.” His gaze touched her clenched hands and she loosened her grip. He took the pillow she wasn’t using and tossed it on the floor. "I'll snuff out the light." "Sure." Gillian glanced at the empty spot on the big comfortable bed and felt a stab of guilt. How could she let him sleep on the hard floor, while she slept in comfort? “Zachary.” He had leaned down to blow out the light, when she spoke his name. He didn't turn around, but waited for her to continue. “You know... if you want to... I don't mind... I mean we’re adults, right? Just because we’re sleeping in the same bed doesn’t mean we have to have sex. You don’t have to sleep on the floor if you don’t want to.” He looked at her meeting her gaze. She recognized the desire there for it mirrored her own wants. She opened her mouth to say she changed her mind, but he extinguished the light. "Thank you.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “I would appreciate it." She couldn’t see him clearly in the dark, but she could definitely hear him undressing. She rolled onto her right side so her back would be toward him. Her heart pounded in her chest. She felt his weight on the other side of the mattress. "Goodnight, Gillian." "Goodnight." Her voice cracked and she closed her eyes, hoping he hadn’t noticed. They were silent for a long time, neither one able to sleep as they became acutely aware of how close they were, yet they might as well have been in another room. They wanted desperately to reach out, but the intangible bridge they had created couldn’t be crossed. An agonizing half hour or so had passed. Zachary knew that Gillian hadn’t fallen asleep either. He decided he couldn’t take it anymore and broke the silence. "Tell me about the future. What is it like?" Gillian didn’t say anything at first and Zachary thought that maybe he had been mistaken. Maybe she had fallen asleep after all, but then she spoke. "Do you believe what I told you? I mean about me coming from the future?" "Honestly, I don't know if I believe you or not. Maybe, I’m just afraid that it could be true. Can you blame me for that?" "No. I guess not." She cleared her throat. "Where to begin? The future is a faster pace than it is here, but when I want to get away from all the bustle of the day, I head to the beach. I

love to go there just to watch the waves and the sun set over the water. I wish you could see it." "Maybe you can show me one day." "Maybe,” but they both knew it was highly unlikely. "Do you live with family?" Zachary asked nonchalantly, while hoping she wasn’t going to say she lived with Jerry. "I live alone." He hadn’t realized he held his breath until he let it out. "You don't need a man in your time?” She chuckled. “We find men useful for a few things. We marry for love in my time at least, I think, most people do.” "I see. Not like how we ended up married, forced into matrimony." She sighed. “In my time, no one would have thought my reputation tarnished. It’s a shame, but I believe one’s honor and reputation doesn’t matter anymore.” “But love does?” “It matters to me.” He thought about this for a moment. Gillian wanted to marry for love. So why wasn't she married? He had assumed someone held her heart. At least, that was what she had led him to believe. Before the night was over, he would know the answer. "You said you lost both your parents. Is there any other family you left behind?" "No family. I’m an only child." He didn’t miss the sadness in her voice. "You must have been lonely." "Sometimes. That's why I want to have a large family. Well not now! I mean… well, you know what I mean.” "I would like a large family too," he confessed graciously ignoring Gillian's awkwardness. "Really?" "You sound surprised." "No... Well, I guess a little. I know you take care of Tyler and all but with your pursuit of... "Her voice trailed off and she changed the subject."How did your sister and her husband die?" "A riverboat accident.” “Were you close to your sister?” “She was a pain in my behind,” he said with affection. “Lotti claims my mother died of a broken heart. Who knows maybe it’s why she fell ill. She died from typhoid fever when we were young, and our father abandoned us for the bottle. I suppose Sarah and I were close because of it, knowing we only had each other. Then Lotti stepped in to rescue us.” “She raised you then?” “With an iron fist; nothing gets past her. She made us come home on time and made us attend school. Later, she sent Sarah to a school in New York, while I went to Connecticut. Lotti hoped I would become a doctor like my grandfather, and not follow my father’s path.” “What happened with being a doctor?” “Life, the war.” He sighed. “I interned, studied and then foolishly joined the war with Ellery and Sarah’s husband Ty. They were only married two weeks before we left. We were young, stupid and had no idea what we were getting into. I patched up men, boys really and sent them to be butchered all over again. I cut off so many limbs I had nightmares for years of the men that died, haunting me, demanding I give them back their missing appendages.”

Gillian rolled over so she faced him. She put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.” He took her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. “Not your fault. We survived and came home. Lotti was furious with me for not listening to her and staying put, and she was angry with Sarah for marrying when she couldn’t be there. She didn’t stay angry long. When Sarah handed her the first great-grandchild, she melted into smiles.” Zachary stretched out on his back, but he stayed on his side of the bed still holding her hand. "You have friends?" He wanted her to bring up Jerry's name again, so he could find out who he was and what he meant to her. “I have a few really close friends that will be worried about me. Samantha and…" He was too impatient and blurted out, “And Jerry?" "Yes, and Jerry." "Who is he to you?" He almost feared her answer, but he had to know. "He’s a... friend." She would have left it at that, but he didn't believe she told him the whole truth. Against his better judgment, he pressured her. "Is that all? It sounds like he may have been more than that. Am I right?” Silence. "Am I right?” he asked again. She pulled her hand away. "Yes. He was more than just a friend. I almost married him, but…" He didn't let her explain. "I see." “You don't see at all. I couldn't marry him. I called off the wedding." "Why?” She took a deep breath. "The truth is, I care very deeply for Jerry. I didn't want to hurt him, but I couldn’t marry him because I didn't love him." Zachary couldn’t help it. A smile slid across his face. She didn’t love Jerry. "That's a very good reason, if I ever heard one. If Jerry isn’t the one you’re in love with then who is the lucky guy?” He waited for an answer but she remained silent. "Gillian?” He reached out his hand. “Talk to me.” She took hold of his hand and held on. “No one understands. You won’t either.” She kissed his palm and he was surprised he felt wetness against her cheek. "Are you crying?" "No," she choked, obviously lying. He was bewildered. What in the world had made her cry? "Shush, now," he said gently. "Come here." He tried to draw her close, but she recoiled. “We can’t sleep together.” “I just want to hold you.” She sniffled back a laugh. “If that isn’t a line, I don’t know what is?” “I’m not sure what you mean, but it sounds like you don’t trust me. On my honor, I will only hold you, nothing more. Do you believe me?” She sighed thoughtfully. “Strangely, I do.” He waited a heartbeat before he reached for her again, drawing her closer. She turned around so her back was against him. She snuggled into his welcoming arms. She felt good there. "What made you cry? Did the man you’re in love with, leave you?” "No." "Did he not return your love?” "Please don’t make me tell you."

"For heaven’s sake, why not?" He couldn’t even begin to understand why she was behaving so mysteriously about a simple question. After a moment of consideration, he decided to use a different approach. "Maybe you would feel better if you talked about it." "You'd just laugh like everyone else did. It's crazy anyway." "Listen, if I can try and believe you came from the future, I doubt anything else you tell me will shock me into hysteria.” "So, you do believe I'm from the future?” "You’re changing the subject." She took a deep breath and blurted out her confession, "He doesn't exist. Are you satisfied?" She tried to move away but Zachary wouldn’t allow her to leave the sanctuary of his arms. "What do you mean he doesn't exist?” "He only exists in my dreams. He has been with me for a long time. The dreams became more pronounced when I was about to marry Jerry, and I took it as an omen. That’s why I couldn’t go through with the wedding. I belong with someone else. We just haven’t met, but I’m sure I’ll know him when he says — Oh forget it. It’s silly anyway.” "Don't stop. I'm listening." He was sincere. He wanted her to confide in him, make him understand. He gently kissed the top of her head and gave her a comforting squeeze, hoping the warmth of his arms would convince her he meant it. His patience paid off. "In my dream, I have never seen the man's face, but he says something to me. When I hear those words, I'll know it’s him." She shifted toward him. “I’m sorry, Zachary that you had to marry me.” “Gillian, I—” “Let me finish,” she interrupted. “I never meant to lead you on. I know we shouldn’t have slept together. It was wrong of me to let it happen.” “I do believe I was a participant.” “Yes, but I knew we had no future.” Zachary swallowed. “I see.” “Do you?” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Yes. You’re heart belongs to another.” She shook her head. “It’s not just that. I have another life. I have to go back.” She seemed to be saying this more to convince herself. Zachary wasn’t sure how he felt about her heartfelt disclosure. She wanted to go back to her time. He supposed he couldn’t blame her, but her other confession—He thought she'd tell him about a real person, not a phantom. What hope could he possibly have a of winning her affections, making her want to stay when she was chasing a dream and waiting for a sign that may or may not come to pass? She believed she belonged in the future. To him, she was his future. He held her closer, not wanting to let her go. After a while, he knew she had fallen asleep. Her breathing had become even and she had melted against him. Sleep was not forthcoming for him. He thought hard and long over his feelings for Gillian. He wasn’t sure if he had fallen in love, but he did know he felt something stronger than he had ever felt for any woman. Just as Gillian thought she belonged to another, he knew just assuredly that she belonged with him. While Zachary slept restlessly, Gillian was completely lost in slumber. She felt safe and contented. She dreamt that her love was holding her in his arms.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN Gillian inhaled deeply as sleep left her. She tried to move only to realize she was pinned down. Zachary’s thigh draped over hers and his hand rested on her breast. Her eyes popped open. She moved, but Zachary held her tighter. "Don't go, not yet. Your sweet fragrance has intoxicated me and I cannot move." “Oh yeah.” She pushed his hand away and struggled to be free. “We have to get dressed. We haven't picked up your grandmother's linens." He pulled her back into his arms. “Just a moment. Do you really want to leave the sanctuary of this room?” In all honesty… no. Their newfound harmony was still fragile, but they couldn’t stay here forever. "Zachary?" "Hmm?" he answered sleepily. "Lotti, will wonder where we are." "My guess, she’ll figure it out. You feel so wonderful. Why don’t we just stay here in bed? We could... or... well, I’m sure we could think of something to do in bed.” "Zachary!" This time she successfully wiggled free from his grasp and jumped out of bed. When she looked at him and saw the grin on his ruggedly handsome face, she knew he teased her. "Why you…" She grabbed one of the pillows and started belting him with it. "Hey!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her back onto the bed. Wrestling the pillow from her hands, he held her down and tickled her side. She burst out laughing. "So, you're ticklish," he said "Stop!" She giggled and tried to move away from her tormentor. He wasn’t about to let her go. He straddled her, holding her hands above her head. They looked at each other, both smiling. Gillian squirmed, feeling the warmth of his thighs against her. She watched his blue eyes darken with desire. They weren’t laughing now. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. She wanted him to kiss her, devour her lips. He leaned closer, but then he hesitated. “You’re right, we should get dressed.” He let her go, jumped off the bed and turned away from her. Gillian sat up, her head spinning from what just happened or what almost happened. She felt something magical spark between them. She knew he felt it too. She stared at him as he hastily gathered his clothes, shoving them into his satchel. She had a perfect view of his broad back, narrow hips and long firm legs. She chewed on her lower lip, wondering why he let the moment slip away and why she had let him. *** They went to the shop to pick up the linens Lotti had ordered, but the man there insisted that she had already come by last week for them. Zachary made the man check his records again. "I told you, young man. She was in last week. Maybe it was something else she be wanting?"

"She sent us here for linens," Zachary insisted. Then suddenly, it dawned on him. This was all part of Lotti’s plan. She hadn't really wanted them to pick up anything. She wanted him to spend time with Gillian. He smiled to himself at her cleverness. "Thank you sir for your help," Zachary turned on his heels. He took Gillian’s hand and ushered her out of the shop. The shop owner just scratched his head obviously wondering why Zachary decided to drop the whole matter. Gillian wondered the same thing. "What was that all about?" "Lotti never wanted the linens. Come on let's go over to the stable and get the carriage." He started walking and she followed. "What do you mean she didn't want the linens?" “She wanted us to be together.” "I don’t— oh.” Zachary stopped abruptly making Gillian bump into him. He tipped back his hat as he gazed down at her. "You won’t be cross with Lotti, will you? She meant well." "Why would I be cross? I had a good time. I saw a part of you that I kind of like." Zachary grinned. "Good. I kind of like you, too.” He gently stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles, making her eyes flutter from his caress. He focused on her lips. She thought their time together was a mistake, a fluke of nature, but if that was true why did he feel such a pull toward her? His eyes met hers, filled with desire. “Gillian, I…” He never finished. His attention averted to the window behind them as it shattered into a million pieces. It took him a second to realize someone had shot at them. Another shot rang out and his hat flew from his head. He dove behind the water trough, taking Gillian with him. People ran for cover and doors slammed shut. “Stay down.” Zachary pulled his gun out. He stood and fired toward the building across the way, where he had caught a glimpse of someone on the roof. “Hey!” the guy shouted. “Don’t shoot.” “You shot first,” Zachary yelled back. “No I didn’t mister. I got no gun, only a hammer.” He lifted it in the air. “The shots came from next door. I saw someone up there, but paid no never mind since we’ve been mending the roofs for the last week. That is until I heard the gunshots.” Zachary tore off running. “Mister, the man ain’t there now.” Zachary wasn’t listening as he skidded around the corner of the building to see a lone horseman hightailing it over the open field. He’d never catch him now. The man on the roof had walked over to the other side and leaned down. “I tried to tell you, mister. I saw the man scramble over the edge, nearly killing himself to get away. You owe him money or something?” Zachary holstered his gun. “Did you get a good look at him?” Not that he needed a description. He was sure it was someone Cyrus hired so not to dirty his own hands. There was a big game tonight, high stakes. He would bet that Cyrus wanted to keep him out of it, but by God, he had gone too far this time. “No,” the man answered. “Had his hat pulled down low. Skinny fellow, not very tall either, if that helps at all.” “Thanks. Gives me a clue anyway.” “Good luck.”

Zachary came back around the building. Gillian had picked up his hat and stared at the hole on the upper crown. He gently took it from her trembling hands. “Gillian, I—” “You could have been killed.” Her gaze touched his. “Are you okay?” He ignored her statement and started checking for injuries. He knew his face betrayed the tension he rigidly held under control. She worried about him. Hell and damnation. She could have been killed. The thought loomed over him dark and deadly. The bullet meant for him could have hit her. She grabbed his arm halting his inspection. “I’m fine, Zachary. Shaken and a little dusty, but I’m fine.” He gathered her in his arms in a fierce hug, silently vowing that Cyrus would pay for this. CHAPTER FIFTEEN Tyler greeted them when they arrived at home. He ran down the porch stairs and into the yard, yelling his greeting. “I thought you two would never come home." He gave Gillian a hug, but he latched onto Zachary as though he would never see him again. “Are we still going fishing tomorrow?” Tyler asked. “Fishing?” “You promised.” Zachary vaguely remembered mentioning they should plan a day together once he was well, but he didn’t remember setting a date. Tomorrow wouldn’t be good. He needed to settle a score with Cyrus first. “I don’t know Tyler, I’m going to be out late tonight.” “Where are you going?” Gillian’s eyes riveted to his. “I have business in town.” “Business? What business? When did you decide this?” “Not now,” he warned. He turned his attention to Tyler. “Sure we’ll go fishing. See if Dora will pack us a few things for tomorrow.” “Yipee!” Tyler ran off to find her. Zachary walked into the house with Gillian following him. “Well?” she persisted. “Gillian, let it go.” “You’re going after Cyrus, aren’t you?” “Not in the way you’re implying.” “How?” she asked as she watched him reload his gun. “There’s a big game tonight. I won’t be intimidated. I have to show my face.” “Why would you go willingly into the lion’s den? You’ve been stabbed already and now shot at today. Are you so thick in the head that you don’t get it? Let Creighton Manor go. It isn’t worth your life.” He didn’t need this right now. He needed to stay focused. “I’m going and that’s final.” “Fine.” She crossed her arms across her chest. “Then I’m going with you.” He laughed. “No, you aren’t. No respectable women would step foot in this establishment.” “So what am I suppose to do? Sit home like a good little woman and hope you return.” “Yes.” He leaned forward to kiss away her frown, but she turned away from him. He sighed regretfully. “I’ll see you later, then.” She followed him as he made his way to leave. “If you don’t value your life at least think of Tyler.”

“Gillian, give it a rest.” He opened the door and turned toward her. “Don’t wait up.” “I won’t.” She slammed the door behind him with a frustrated growl. *** Despite her words, Gillian waited up for him until it was almost two in the morning. When he still hadn’t returned, she gave up and went upstairs to bed. She barely drifted off to sleep when someone shook her awake. "Aunt Gillian?" Tyler nudged her again. Still sleepy eyed, she looked at Tyler’s worried expression. She sat up. "Is something wrong?" "I was just wondering where Uncle Zachary was?" "Tyler, it's still dark out.” She didn’t know what time it was, but surely Zachary had come home by now. “Your uncle is probably still asleep." "We're supposed to go fishing. Remember?" "I know, but the sun hasn't come up, yet." She tried to lie back down, believing everything was settled, but Tyler was persistent. "It will be light soon. When we get a chance to go fishing, we always leave before the sun rises. It's the best time to catch the fish." She sat back up again. "I see. Did you check Zachary's room?" "I did already. He's not there. I thought... well I thought he might be with you." Gillian ignored what Tyler implied. Zachary wasn’t home yet. Fear gripped her, but she couldn’t let Tyler know. “I'm sure Zachary will be home soon and he'll come and get you." "He stayed out all night," Tyler accused with obvious disappointment. "Come here." She scooted over in the bed to make room for Tyler. "Here, lie down next to me and try to get some sleep. I'm sure Zachary hasn’t forgotten about you. I’ll bet he’ll be home any moment." Zachary didn’t return home to take Tyler fishing, nor did he have the decency to make an appearance all day. As the afternoon eased into the evening, Gillian was frantic. What could have happened to him? Did the man who tried to kill him come after him again? She wanted to go into town, but she had no idea where to start looking. She went out to the front porch and sat down on the steps to wait. The sun hung low in the sky and the heat wasn't as unbearable as it had been in the afternoon. Gillian had a hunch Zachary wasn’t in danger when she spotted Molly. She trotted over and sat down on her haunches beside her. She wagged her tail, while she basked in Gillian’s affection. “Where is he, girl?” Molly licked her hand. Not exactly the answer she was looking for. Gillian glanced up and spotted him in the distance. Relief spread through her, but then anger reared its ugly head, again. Zachary sauntered toward the house, his hat on his head as if he hadn’t a care in the world. She stood with her hands on her hips, determined to give him a piece of her mind for making them worry about him. *** Zachary noticed Gillian waiting for him, he had a hunch she wasn’t there to greet him with a hug and kiss. Nevertheless, she was a sight for sore eyes even with that scowl of hers. He

had been blessed with a profitable night... and day. Cyrus Locke never learned, always thinking he could pull a fast one on him. Zachary’s satisfaction came from proving him wrong. He reached the porch and met Gillian’s glare head on. She was still angry that much was obvious. She flipped her auburn braid over her shoulder like a whip. "Where have you been?" Her tone was sharp. He didn’t like it. "I told you where I was going." He started up the steps. She didn’t move out of his way. Obviously she wasn’t going to let him pass until she had her say. "You never said you were going to be gone for a day and half. Didn't you think we would worry?" "I didn't know you cared." He tried to be light hearted by playfully reaching for her hand, but she promptly hit his hand away. "Stop it. Frankly, I don't care what you do, but you have someone else who depends on you. You promised Tyler that you would spend a day with him and you left him disappointed." Zachary looked at her blankly. What was she babbling about? She was good enough to inform him. “Fishing.” "Hell and damnation!" he swore, as the awareness of what he had done sunk in. "I forgot." "Obviously harassing Cyrus Locke took precedence over your nephew." Zachary hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours; he was beyond tired and wasn’t prepared to contend with her attitude. "What I am doing is for Tyler. Creighton Manor will be his inheritance." "Do you think he cares about a house he has never seen? He wants you. He wants to spend time with his uncle. He looks upon you as a father, but you seem all too eager to ignore him." "How dare you." His eyes narrowed. "You have no right to tell me how to take care of my nephew. We were doing just fine before you showed up." "Well, I don't see it that way. You’re this close from death.” She pinched her forefinger and thumb together, shaking her hand in front of him. "That's enough!" His voice thundered. "You have no right to fling accusations at me. It's none of your business and don’t start in with your nonsense of being sent from the future to save me. For all we know, it was nothing more than a freak accident. Hell, maybe you’re here so I can shake some sense into you.” “What is that suppose to mean?” “You live in a dream world, waiting for someone who most likely doesn’t exist. If you haven’t noticed, there’s a man here who took you as a wife.” He tapped his chest, his eyes blazing. “I’m flesh and blood, Gillian. I feel dammit! Grow up.” He nudged her as he went up the steps, ignoring the hurt expression on her face. He opened the door and was about to go in, but the iciness of her voice froze him. "Since we are being so straightforward with each other, maybe you should think about how Tyler worries when you don’t come home. He thinks what happen to his parents is going to happen to you." Zachary closed his eyes for a moment. He never dreamt that Tyler would worry about him like that, but he wasn’t going to let Gillian know this. Instead, he opened his eyes and went into the house without uttering another word.

Gillian’s attention was drawn to Molly who whined at her feet. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself? You brought me here and for what? I think it’s time you take care of the fool and send me back home.” Molly barked and took off in the other direction. “Chicken,” she yelled after the mutt. CHAPTER SIXTEEN Lotti shook her head as she watched Zachary and Gillian wallow in their own misery with no one to blame but themselves. They addressed each other only with polite tolerance if one could call it that. She was more than a little disappointed. She thought by sending them on an outing together they would realize how much they truly cared for each other. Now all she saw was a bigger void than ever. Tyler in his innocence had let it slip to her that Gillian and Zachary were not even sleeping in the same room. She didn’t care how they ended up married. There was something dreadfully wrong when a married couple didn’t even share a bed. Unfortunately, she was at a complete loss at what to do to help. *** The day of the wedding reception finally arrived. Gillian would meet prominent people of the town, friends and acquaintances. She was nervous because she didn’t know what social graces were expected of her. Dora was going to help her dress for the party and fix her hair in the latest fashion. She also volunteered to keep an eye on Tyler. The little boy was so excited. He’d never before been allowed to attend a grown up party. When they arrived at Lotti’s house, Lotti gave Gillian a grand tour. When the war broke out, the Creighton’s had wisely kept most of their funds in their Northern investments. Unlike some of the other Southern families, they by no means were hurting for money. The elegance of Lotti’s home left her in awe. The furniture in the library was intricately carved with cartouche decorations. Plush cushions adorned them and rugs rich with colors of red, green and gold covered the wood floors. The parlor was adorned with rosewood furniture made by the famous furniture maker, John Henry Belter. Lotti told her it had been shipped from New York in twenty different boxes. In every bedroom, there were pier mirrors positioned between two large windows for the best lighting, and the bedroom she would be staying in had a large four-poster bed, which stood high off the ground. She needed a stepladder to climb onto it. The lace curtains were each tied back with deep-blue satin bows, matching the color of the comforter on the bed. The large dresser was carved with oak leaves. It was situated near the door next to a vanity table that had a large, oval mirror positioned above it. With all the finery at Lotti's home, she couldn’t imagine what Creighton Manor had looked like since it was supposed to have been even more elegant.

When she heard the knock at the bedroom door, she jumped. She took a deep breath hoping she could calm her nerves. “Come in, the door’s open.” Both Tyler and Dora walked in at the same time. Tyler was all dressed up and his hair had been slicked back for the evening’s festivities. He was grinning from ear to ear. Again, Gillian was struck with the familiarity she saw in his small face. It had to be the smile. He looked like someone she knew, and yet she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. "How do I look, Aunt Gillian?" Tyler asked as he spun around for her. Gillian loved the sound of being called aunt and was happy that Tyler seemed so comfortable with it. She smiled. "You look absolutely handsome." "You should see Uncle Zachary. He's been fixing himself up, too." "Gillian will see him soon,” Dora told Tyler. “Now, be off with yourself. And mind you, don't mess yourself up before the guests arrive.” "I won’t. I'll see what Lotti is up to." Tyler ran down the hall in search of his greatgrandmother. "Now let's get you into your dress." Dora shut the bedroom door. "Where’s your corset?" "I'm not wearing that thing. I got rid of it." Dora chuckled and shook her head. "I tell you, I don't blame you one bit." Dora looked Gillian over. "Besides, with that tiny waist of yours, you don't need something holding you in." The older woman went over to where Gillian's beautiful dress had been placed. She waited while Gillian removed her robe, then she slipped the garment over her head. The dress was a deep turquoise with beads sewn around the bodice and there were tiny buttons that lined the back of it. It took Dora nearly ten minutes to button every one. "Now let's take a look at you." Gillian turned around to face her. "Oh, you do look lovely. Now, let's put your hair up." She led Gillian to the vanity table. She talked while she did wonders with every strand of her long auburn hair. She twisted, folded and pinned, adding tiny flowers for added color. Gillian looked in the mirror. She couldn't believe the transformation. She actually looked like a woman who belonged in this time. "Do you like it?" Dora asked. "You did a lovely job." Gillian lightly touched her hair. She looked at Dora’s reflection in the mirror, her eyes misting with gratitude. "Thank you." "No trouble at all. When you have someone that looks the way you do, my job is all but done. You'll be the prettiest woman here tonight." Zachary knocked and asked for entrance. Dora did the honor, but before she let him in, she gave him a stern warning. "You’re in for a pleasant surprise, but no messing up your wife's hair mind you. Now move aside. I have to go check on Tyler and make sure he hasn't gotten himself into trouble." Zachary chuckled and moved aside and Dora headed down the hall. Zachary entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He stared as Gillian nervously ran her hand down the length of her dress. His imagination went where it shouldn’t. He remembered how his hands had caressed her body. His gaze wandered over her and lazily appraised every curve. A spike of heat hit him low in the gut and he forgot why he’d been angry with her. All he could think of was embracing her, while he devoured her lusciously, rosy lips. He covered the spaces that separated them. Now he knew why Dora had made the comment not to mess up her hair. He would have liked nothing more than to ravish her, take every pin out and run his hand through her silky strands. He had to clear his throat before he could manage to articulate what he wanted to tell her. "You are absolutely breathtaking." The huskiness of his voice had to have given him away. She must know he wanted her.

“May I say you look rather dashing yourself?" Her cheeks flushed, only heightening her beauty. He smiled. "Compliment accepted. You know, I have missed you." He couldn't resist touching her cheek with the back of his hand. "So many times I have tried to apologize to you for my behavior. Forgive me for not doing so sooner." He met her gaze, beseeching her to accept his apology. "I’ll forgive you, only if you do the same for me." “Done,” Zachary said as he leaned down and gently brushed her lips with his. He heard the little intake of her breath. He wondered why she continued to deny them being together when he could sense she felt the same strong attraction that he did. “I have something for you.” He pulled out the item from his coat pocket. “My father gave it to my mother on their wedding day." He opened his hand and she saw that he held an exquisite flowered broach. "I would be honored if you would wear it." Her eyes misted and her throat seemed to grow thick. “It's so beautiful." She turned the broach over and read the inscription on the back: To my love, Creighton. "May I?" Zachary asked indicating he would like to pin the broach to her dress. She nodded and he fastened the broach to the material of her bodice. The task completed Gillian raised her hand to tenderly touch the elegant piece of jewelry. Her eyes brimmed with tenderness. "Thank you, Zachary." He was about to kiss her again, but Lotti walked in. They both immediately took a step back from each other. "I didn't realize you'd be in here, Zachary. I hope I wasn't interrupting anything." Lotti’s brows lifted slightly in question as she eyed both of them. "No Lotti,” Zachary answered. “You weren't interrupting anything." "Hmm.” She shook her head and then turned her attention to Gillian. “You do look fabulous in that dress. The other women will be green with envy." Lotti’s eyes sparkled with her obvious pride. "You look wonderful too." Gillian returned the compliment. Lotti was indeed a striking woman. Her gray hair was loosely pinned into a bun and she wore a light colored dress that flattered her baby blue eyes. Gillian noticed she had her cane with her, polished and gleaming gold in the light. "Come on. We must go downstairs and greet the guests. They'll be here any moment," Lotti urged as she headed out of the room. Zachary took Gillian’s hand. He was ready to follow his grandmother, but Gillian didn’t budge. He looked at her questionably. "Is something wrong?" "I'm just a little nervous, you know... meeting everyone." "Well don't be. Believe me, they'll all be enchanted." She met his reassuring gaze and forced herself to settle down. She could do this. Luckily, for Gillian, the first guest to arrive was Ellery. His gregarious laughter would put anyone at ease. "Why Gillian, you look ravishing." He always knew what to say. He took her hand in his and kissed it. Then he went to Lotti. "And you are stunning as usual." "Be gone with you, now. Flattery will get you nowhere. I'm too old for your Tom Foolery." Nevertheless, she could tell that Lotti was pleased by his compliment. They went into the large decorated room and waited for everyone to arrive. Within minutes, four other guests walked through the door, followed by the arrival of Cyrus and Josephine Locke.

"Married life has treated you well, Mrs. Creighton." Cyrus bowed. "I can't believe the transformation," Josephine exclaimed as her gaze traveled the length of her. "I’ll take that as a compliment." Gillian chuckled. She realized their first meeting had left them with a poor image of her. "Oh, yes indeed. You are quite fetching and..." Josephine touched the delicate broach Gillian was wearing. “What an exquisite piece. Wherever did you find it?” Gillian smiled. “It was a gift from Zachary.” “Well, I say it is... ” Josephine was unable to continue her conversation for another couple came in and began to monopolize Gillian’s attention. "This is the angel of the night?” A tall young man exclaimed as he pushed his way through to be introduced, skepticism ringing in his voice. "You are such a little thing. How in the world did you ever manage to pull Zachary out of the river? It couldn’t be possible.” The man had drawn the other's attention and they gathered around. Gillian looked at the eager faces that were ready to hear more. She looked to Zachary for help, but he had moved away and didn't know what was happening. She stammered at first, but then she saw Ellery. He winked and held up a glass of champagne as a salute. She regained some of her composure and cleared her throat. "I did what any other person would have done. I just jumped into the water, after him. I couldn't very well let him drown, could I?" "Nobody in his or her right mind would jump into the river in the dead of night,” another man argued. “Don’t you know what lurks below the depths?” “It was a foggy night, too. I remember that night well,” someone offered his rendition. Everyone around murmured their agreement and waited anxiously for Gillian to defend herself. Ellery decided to come to the rescue and broke through the crowd. "Now, I was there. It was a foggy night just as you have said, Daniel.” He nodded his head toward the man who stood at Gillian’s right elbow. Zachary realized how quiet the room became and moved closer to hear. “Gillian saw, as did I,” Ellery continued, “that Zachary, after his struggles with an unsavory sort had tumbled backwards into the roaring water below. I, at the time was preoccupied with one of the hooligans that had decided to jump me. I saw Gillian run toward the edge and dive into the deep waters below. I’ll tell you, I thought it was over for the both of them. Now by this time, others heard the commotion and yelled for help. So desperate was I to get to the water’s edge that my attention was not on the man that attacked me. Unfortunately, he escaped unnoticed. “We searched the water through the drifting fog. Thinking that we wouldn’t find them, but there they were bobbing up and down in the water with the current threatening to overtake them. Gillian held onto the unconscious Zachary. We hurried to the lower embankment and tossed the rope to them, reeling them in. “Even with all Gillian’s heroic attempts, it looked as if Zachary would succumb to his death anyway. But again, the angel of the night came to the rescue and breathed life into him.” Here Ellery deliberately paused. He took a sip of his champagne and watched over the brim of his glass as if to see how the people of the room responded to his tale. The crowd turned to her. She blushed at their admiring looks. Ellery smiled smugly and continued, “I for one am still baffled why Gillian would risk life and limb to save Zachary. He can be such a dour person at times.” Ellery teasingly grinned at his childhood friend. “The best thing, he has ever done in his life was to marry this angel of the night." He lifted

his drink. "Hold on to her, my friend. She'll save your soul, dear boy." He purposely emptied his glass as if he had made a toast. Zachary spoke though it was barely above a whisper, "She already has." Gillian gaze riveted to his, but before she could decipher from his expression what he meant by his comment, he had turned away. "Come on, this is a party. Enjoy yourself.” Zachary had spoken loud and clear for all to hear. Gillian could still make out the murmuring of a few as they talked about her heroic deed. The doubt was not there, only respect thanks to Ellery. *** Violet Ellsworth made her grand entrance: Her gown sweeping around her in a stream of lavender. She didn't wait to be introduced. Once her gaze landed on Zachary, she headed straight toward him. Ellery intercepted. "Violet my girl, don't you look lovely tonight." And indeed, she did. Her dress fit her slim figure perfectly. Her reddish hair actually sparkled in the light with her ringlets falling loosely down her back. Unfortunately, her pretty face held a definite scowl, ruining her refined and delicate appearance. "I'm not your girl," Violet snapped. "So kindly move out of my way." "Tsk, tsk. You better pull in your claws." Ellery took her arm and intentionally moved her in the opposite direction of where Zachary and Gillian were standing. Under his breath, while all the time smiling sweetly, he threatened, "You behave yourself or—" "Or what?" she said with contempt and tried to wiggle free from Ellery's grasped. "You'll leave me no other choice than to escort you home." "You can't do that," she stated with more confidence than she felt. "I can, and I will, even if I have to drag you out kicking and screaming. This is a party for my best friend and his wife." "Your best friend, the heel was supposed to marry me. Not some street urchin," she cried. Ellery put a comforting arm around Violet and led her out onto the verandah. "I know you feel like you have been wronged, but think about this, will you? Did Zachary ever say he was going to marry you?" "Well... he... he …" She stomped her foot. "No, he didn't exactly say he would, but I assumed it. Why did he allow me to hang around if he was never going to marry me? That woman in there bewitched him, is what.” She pointed behind her as if she was fingering the accused for trial. “I know Zachary still loves me." "He proclaimed this to you?" "Of course, he did! How dare you!" Violet lifted her hand to slap Ellery, but he grabbed her arm. "Unhand me you cad," she seethed, her eyes flashing with anger. Ellery let go of her arm and she pushed him aside. “I refuse to take any more abuse from you Ellery Livingston.” She started back into the house, but stopped at the entryway when Ellery called to her. "Just remember what I said: Behave yourself or suffer the consequences." Violet’s back stiffened, but she didn’t turn around. Without a word, she gracefully sashayed back into the house.

After dinner, the men congregated to the far side of the room. They were busy arguing over politics. Ellery stood on one side of the group discussion and Zachary stood on the other. They nodded to each other and the plan was put into motion. "So who is placing a bet on the impending race between the Natchez and the Robert E. Lee?" Ellery opened the floor for the flood of comments. "That race will never go," Daniel said. "Yes it will,” old Mr. Hickson argued. “Those two captains have had a feud going between them since the moment they ended their partnership.” “They'll race," another piped in. "I for one tend to agree with you." Cyrus nodded toward Mr. Hickson. "I bet the Natchez will win, too. It has already proven to beat the J.M. White's record, once. I don’t think Cannon can push the Robert E. Lee that far." Zachary couldn't have been happier. Cyrus was falling right into their plan. It was time for him to contribute to the conversation. "Would you care to make a little wager, Cyrus?" Cyrus chuckled. "A wager, is it? Do you mean to bet on which steamboat will win?" "Sure why not. You seem quite confident that Leather's steamboat will win. I for one think it will be Cannon’s." "I have no intentions of betting." "You, Cyrus,” Zachary jibed. “Frankly, I am shocked. I would have thought you being the gambling sort that you already placed your bet.” All eyes swung toward Cyrus. The men knew Cyrus had his hands in the recent and most popular gambling events. Surely, he had not failed to enter this one. Cyrus’ lips flattened into a fine line and his eyes narrowed. “Why is it Mr. Creighton that you feel the urge to place this wager?” Zachary shrugged. He didn’t want to push and appear desperate. “No reason other than it may prove entertaining.” Cyrus’s brows arched in amusement. “Indeed.” He leaned forward in his seat. “How much?” Zachary had him where he wanted him. "Money was not what I had in mind. How about we make this interesting. You have something that I want." Cyrus let out a short laugh and shook his head. "Surely you don’t mean Creighton Manor?" "That's exactly what I mean.” Zachary met his gaze head on with the challenge. "Even if I were to agree with such a ludicrous request, what do you have to bet against it?" “It's not what I have, but what I will do. If I lose, I will never enter another gambling event you’ve entered. I will stay clear." Cyrus’ brows lifted in surprise. "Never? You'll never enter a game I'm in?" "That's what I said," Zachary confirmed. “To be rid of you from the games would be like having a rotten tooth finally removed.” Cyrus held out his hand. "It's a deal. Be ready to change your career, my boy." Zachary took Cyrus' hand and shook it. The deal was made and all in the room had heard, binding Cyrus to his word. Zachary spotted Gillian in the doorway. He knew she had witnessed the handshake and that Cyrus had accepted the deal. If what she claimed came true, he would win and she would have to make her choice: To stay married to him or not. His brow furrowed. What if she decided to end the marriage? He should have never bet with her, not when he had a chance of losing.

*** It was time for Tyler to go to bed. In between yawns, he insisted he wanted to stay up a little longer. "I’m not sleepy." He then rubbed his side with a grimace. "What's wrong?" Gillian asked. "My stomach hurts a little," he complained. "Too much food, I believe." Zachary had walked up to say goodnight. "Come on. A good night's sleep and you'll feel better in the morning. I’ll take him up to Dora,” he told Gillian. “Go back to the party. I won’t be long.” Gillian kissed Tyler goodnight before Zachary escorted him upstairs to where Dora waited for him. After Zachary left Tyler with Dora, he headed downstairs. He stopped midway down when he spotted Violet leaning against the railing looking up at him. Hmm, what did she want? She smiled, but he didn’t trust her in the least. “Hello Violet.” He reached the bottom step. "Hello Zachary.” She placed her hand on his. His eyes narrowed and he pulled his hand away. “Now don’t be cross. I wanted to apologize in private about the other day. You know when I slapped you," she purred as she leaned her body closer to him, backing him up against the wall. "Apology accepted." He tried to move around her, but she put her hand up to block him. "Don't go or I'll scream." Her lips curved but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. "What do you want, Violet?" He looked at her face that held no compassion and wondered why he ever thought she was beautiful. All he could think about was staying as far away as possible from her and her tiresome games. "I want you, Zachary." She pressed her body against his. He tried to sidestep her advances, but she grabbed his lapel and yanked him toward her. She kissed him savagely, drawing blood as she bit his lower lip. He pulled away ready to tell Violet that she was out of line, but he was stunned into silence as he caught sight of Gillian standing there at the archway. Her green eyes flashed from hurt to anger in a matter of seconds. “Gillian.” Before he could go to her, she turned away, running back into the other room. This time, Zachary successfully pushed Violet away, his curt voice lashing out at her. "Don't ever try that again. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" "Perfectly," she bit out, her eyes narrowing to slits. "Good. Now I do believe you know where the door is. I suggest you use it." With that, Zachary left Violet to fume. He had to find Gillian and explain what had happened. “Zachary, where are you going?” Lotti detained him. She dragged him into a conversation with Mrs. Hennely and he couldn’t easily break away without seeming rude. Finding Gillian would have to wait for the moment, but it didn’t stop him from scanning the room for her. *** Gillian escaped to the verandah, hoping for privacy, while she tried to pull herself together. What a fool she’d been to believe Zachary might carry some affection for her. She was nothing more than his possession, a trophy to parade around. She tried not to cry, but a sob escaped her lips.

"What's this about?” She whirled around startled that she wasn’t alone. Ellery emerged from the darkness holding a drink. He walked up to her and leaned forward to peer at her face. “You’re upset.” "It's nothing." She tried to turn away, but he gently held her chin, turning her toward him. "I see tears. I know tears mean something is amiss. Tell me what's happened. Maybe I can help." He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. "Thank you," she said dabbing the wetness away from her eyes. Ellery gave her a few moments to compose herself. "What did Zachary do?" "What makes you think Zachary did anything?" He gave her a look that said he knew better. "Okay, so it is Zachary." She sniffled and sighed heavily. "I just caught him kissing his old girlfriend in the hall." Ellery raised a brow. “Zachary kissed Violet?" "Yes. Isn't that what I just said?" She couldn't help it. The image of Violet’s arms around Zachary made her eyes well up again. Damn it, she shouldn’t care. Ellery put his drink down on the marble stand. He pulled Gillian into his arms. "There, there don't cry. There must be a logical explanation." "I know what it is," she sobbed into his chest. "He's still in love with her." "That simply is not true." "How do you know?" "Because my dear, he was never in love with her in the first place." "Then why was he kissing her?" She huffed. "I don't know but I plan to find out." He gently cradled her. “We’ll clear up this little misunderstanding.” "I don't know why it should even bother me. It’s not like we married each other because we fell madly in love. Besides, Creighton Manor is all the man truly cares about." “I would have at one time believed this to be true, but now I don’t think so. I also believe you are not being honest with your feelings.” “What do you mean?” "Listen, did you ever consider the reason you’re bothered by the thought of Zachary caring for Violet is because you’re starting to care for him yourself? Maybe you’ve fallen in love with him." At first, Gillian didn't answer as the thought flitted across her mind, but then she shook her head in denial. "No. That's not possible. No, absolutely not," she insisted more to convince herself. "Aah. The lady doth protest too much, me thinks," Ellery elegantly quoted. “If you would only admit you were, all this could be resolved. You’re in love with Zachary and despite Zachary’s foolishness with Violet; I know my friend is in love with you.” *** Zachary walked out onto the verandah, his eyes landing on Gillian and Ellery locked in an embrace. Pure anger raced through his veins as he clenched and unclenched his hands. To think, he was going to apologize and explain what had happened in the hall. He had been

such a fool, but now it was all too clear why Gillian wouldn’t return his affections; she wanted Ellery. Ellery turned his head catching Zachary’s glowering mask of fury. Gillian felt the change in Ellery's hold. Lifting her head, she followed his gaze. With a quick sharp breath, she quickly moved away from Ellery. "No, don't stop,” he told them. The sudden thin chill hung on the edge of his words. “That was really very touching. Don't let me interrupt." Ellery approached him. "Now listen, this isn’t what you think this is." "Oh, really? Are you telling me my eyes deceive me? That I have not just witnessed my best friend betraying me with my wife." "Now wait a minute. I'll not have you insult us when you were the one in the wrong." "Me!" His eyes darkened like angry thunderclouds. "Yes, you. You're worried about your wife's transgression, when only moments ago you were in the arms of another. Your wife was out here crying. I was only comforting her." "Oh, I just bet you were." “I’ve had enough of your insults for one night.” Ellery huffed. “I’ve had enough of you!” White-hot anger made Zachary lunge at Ellery. Both men fell to the ground determined to teach the other a lesson. "This cannot be happening. Stop it!" Gillian cried, but the two men paid her no heed as they lashed out at each other. *** Lotti had noticed Zachary appeared anxious. She watched him escape to the verandah as if he looked for a place to hide. As soon as she was able to, she excused herself. She wanted a word with him. She wouldn’t put up with him sulking tonight. Once she stepped outside, she saw the look of horror on Gillian's face. She followed her gaze to see the two men rolling around on the ground. "What in the world." Lotti had seen enough to be thoroughly disgusted with their unseemly behavior. Without even thinking of her safety, she stepped close enough to use her cane. Not too hard, but enough to draw their attention, she hit each one on the head. "Stop it this instance. Stop it, I say.” Both men immediately ended their assault. They sat on the ground, rubbing their heads and staring up at Lotti as though they were chastised children. Zachary had a cut lip and Ellery’s left cheek already looked swollen. "What in the name of heaven is going on?" Lotti demanded to know. "He started the whole thing with his insults," Ellery accused. "Hell and damnation!" Zachary exclaimed and that cost him another crack on the head from Lotti. "Watch your mouth." With both of them silent, she continued, "I'm ashamed of the both of you, grappling on the ground like a pair of wild animals. I don't know what the two of you are fighting about, and frankly, I don't care. If you both have failed to notice, there is a party going in there. It's in honor of your marriage, Zachary. And you, Ellery, you are supposed to be Zachary's best friend. So, I would appreciate it if you two would behave yourself and act like the gentlemen you were brought up to be." Both men stood and glared at each other, the silence between them a thin line that could easily be crossed if one wrong word was voiced.

Zachary pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed his lip. In the meantime, Lotti went over to Gillian and put a comforting arm around her. "You’re shaking, dear," Lotti said, as she led her back into the house. Ellery didn’t intend to stay at the party a moment longer. "Next time, you decide to take out your frustrations on someone make sure you know all the facts. You need to make up your mind, Zachary. You can't have both Violet and Gillian." Ellery then stormed back into the house and out the front door, slamming it behind him. When Zachary came back in, all eyes were upon him, wondering what had transpired that the ever good-humored Ellery would leave in such a huff. After the spectacle, the party didn’t last much longer. Gillian was grateful for she felt physically drained. She tried to smile and carry on a conversation with the women, but she found her heart wasn’t in it. When she could finally retire for the night, Dora came in the room and helped her out of the beautiful, party dress. Then Dora wished her a goodnight, leaving Gillian by herself. She pulled back the comforters and crawled into bed, but she couldn't sleep. She thought about what Ellery had said to her. Was she in love with Zachary? It had to be true, didn't it? Why else had she been so upset that he had been kissing an old girlfriend? She turned over and slammed her fist into the pillow. He could have at least had the decency to meet Violet in private and not display his affections at their marriage reception of all things. How humiliating! She rolled over and stared at the ceiling. What did she expect? She told him she wouldn’t return his affections. She told him if she were able to return to her time, she would go. However, she was still here. "That's it!" She'd lay down the ground rules. When he won the bet with Cyrus Locke, he could move into Creighton Manor with Violet. However, until then, he had to promise to behave as though this marriage was the real deal. She sat up and threw off the covers with determination. There was no time like the present to confront him. She jumped out of bed and put on her robe and slippers. She quietly opened the door and poked her head out into the hall. It was dark and silence greeted her. Everyone must have settled down for the night. She quickly approached Zachary's room that was directly across from hers. She saw the light filtering underneath his door and knew he must still be up. She knocked. No answer. She knocked again thinking Zachary hadn’t heard her, but still no answer. She tried the door. Finding it unlocked, she opened it just a tad. "Zachary?" She opened the door the rest of the way. To her horror, she saw Zachary sprawled on the floor. “Omigod, Zachary!” She ran toward him. As she leaned down someone grabbed her. She struggled, squirming to be free. She kicked her assailant and took great satisfaction in hearing him grunt, but she couldn’t shake free. She opened her mouth to scream, but the guy covered her mouth with a cloth. The sickening smell burned her nostrils and her vision blurred. Then there was nothing. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Gillian groaned and raised her hand to her throbbing head. She sat up, but the sudden movement made her dizzy and she shut her eyes, willing the wooziness to cease. Where was she? What happened? Then it all came flooding back to her. Someone attacked her.

Zachary had been sprawled out on the floor in his room and... God, was he dead? She searched the darkness, trying to see if Zachary was with her. She crawled a small distance, feeling the ground for a body. She stopped in her tracks when she heard whining. "Molly, is that you girl?” Molly's answer was to lick her face. Gillian put her arms around her. "I'm so happy you’re here. Do you know where Zachary is? Is he in here, girl?" Molly answered with a whine. She turned and walked into what appeared to be a stall. Gillian's eyes had adjusted somewhat to the darkness now and she was able to follow. In the corner, she saw Zachary. He lay still as death. A hard fast fear grew in her stomach as she knelt down beside him, touching him looking for signs that he still lived. She let out a sigh of relief when she felt his chest rise and fall. She felt his head first for any damage and came across a large bump near his temple. She inspected him for any other wounds and fortunately found none. Whoever had done this must have caught him off guard too. She wondered if it was the same men from the waterfront or the one who took potshots at him from the rooftop. The bastards were persistent. However, if they had planned to kill them, wouldn't they have done so already? She didn’t have time to worry about that right now. She needed Zachary on his feet so they could escape. "Zachary, come on.” She shook him. “You have to wake up.” She hated to do this but she saw no other choice. She slapped his face as hard as she dared. When he moaned, she knew it was working. She slapped him again and he stirred. She was about to hit him one more time, but Zachary’s hand snaked out. In a split second, he tossed her like a rag doll and was upon her, grabbing the collar of her nightgown. “Zachary, it’s me, Gillian.” She barely choked out the words and prayed he was coherent. Zachary lowered his arm at the sound of Gillian’s voice. "Gillian?" he croaked. "Yes, it's Gillian." He let her go and she let out a sigh of relief. "Where are we?" Zachary sat down next to her and looked around him. "I have no idea. I was hoping you could shed some light on that matter. I woke up on the ground outside this stall and Molly led me to you.” "Molly?" He looked to the far corner and noticed the dog. "Don't ask me how she got here because I have no explanation. She seems to show up when there's trouble." "Well, she's right. This definitely doesn’t bode well. Let's see if we can see where they’ve dumped us." Not too steadily, he rose to his feet. "Be careful." Gillian wrapped his arm around her shoulder, supporting his weight as he steadied himself. "You have a dreadful bump on the side of your head." "You don't think I know that?" he snapped. She let go of him and he staggered, but managed to remain standing. "Well, you don't have to bite my head off,” she spat. “I didn't put it there." He harrumphed at her flare of temper. "Keep your voice down and follow me. As far as we know, our kidnappers could still be somewhere close.” She moved nearer to him and his eyes locked onto what she was wearing. "You're in your night gown," he stated the obvious. "No kidding. Did you figure that out all by yourself?" She couldn't believe he would take the time out to discuss her attire when their lives were in danger. "I asked the kidnappers if I could get dressed first, but they answered me by stuffing a chloroform cloth up my nose." His only answer was a grunt as he turned and walked out of the stall. He stood in the darkness and listened. Gillian listened, too. Everything was quiet, too quiet. "Well, are we going to—"

“Hell and damnation, woman," he interrupted with a hiss. "Hush. And do not move. I'll be right back." She immediately lost sight of him in the darkness. She hugged herself as fear threatened to take over. Where did Zachary go? Stay here? Why? So he could go and get himself killed. Oh yeah, great idea, she thought to herself. Molly came and sat down beside her. "Good girl. Stay with me, will you?” Molly licked her hand. A good five minutes went by and still Zachary didn’t return. She wished she had her flashlight so that she could see what was going on. She wanted to call out to him just to reassure herself he hadn’t been caught, but then she didn’t want the ones who kidnapped them to realize they weren’t unconscious anymore. She was in no hurry to find out what they had planned for them. Then she thought she heard something to the right of her. Before she could manage a scream, someone grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth. "It's me," Zachary whispered in her ear. He released her and she turned around and slapped him. "You scared me," she hissed. "I knew you couldn't see me and I didn't want you to call out. We're not alone. As far as I can tell, there are two men with guns standing guard outside." "Great. What are we going to do?" "I'm not sure. I don’t think we need to worry just yet. They must have orders not to kill us or else we'd be dead already. Maybe they have something more sinister up their sleeves." "What could be more sinister than being dead?" "Torture comes to mind." "If you're trying to make me feel better, you’re failing miserably." Gillian put her hands on her hips. "Believe me, I wish I were joking. One thing for sure, when I capture one of those men out there, I'll make him tell me whose behind all this." "I thought you suspected Cyrus? And what do you mean when you capture those guys out there? How do you plan on doing that?" "First question, I need proof Cyrus is behind this. I can't very well go and accuse the man without proof. Second, we're going to have the advantage of surprise. We'll create a diversion and—" “Hello.” Gillian waved her hand in front of his face, drawing his attention. "If I do recall, you said the men out there have guns. How do you plan on capturing them when we don't have a weapon?” "I have my knife." He leaned down and pulled it from the side of his boot. "Are you crazy? Bullets against a knife!" She could barely keep her voice low. "Well, do you have another suggestion? Do you just want to wait and see what they have planned for us?" "No, but I personally don’t wish to rush to my death either." "We don’t have much of a choice here unless you have someone that intends to rescue us. Hey, I know." Zachary snapped his fingers. "Maybe, lover boy will rescue you." "Lover boy?” “Ellery Livingston.”

“What are you talking about? Did that blow to the head mess up your brain?” She wasn’t whispering anymore. "Do you mind lowering your voice?" She obliged but she was far from finished with their conversation. "Well, since you’re bringing up love interests, what about you and Violet? I saw you necking in the hall." "Necking?" He lifted his brows as he tried to discern what she meant. "Sorry, you don't know the term." Sarcasm dripped from her words. "Kissing her. Don't try to deny it. I saw you." "Who said anything about denying it? However, it isn’t what you think." "Really, because where I stood it sure looked like you were examining her tonsils with your tongue?" “And when I came upon you and Ellery, it appeared as if your bodies were fused together.” “You’re insane! He’s your friend.” “Obviously, the definitive word would be: Was my friend. Enough of this! I would love to continue this discussion but this is neither the time nor the place. If we get out of this alive, we'll argue it out later. Now come with me." He grabbed her hand, dragging her behind him. As they neared the door, Gillian could see a bit of light between the cracks. "They have a fire going," he informed her. "How do you know there are only two of them out there?” Zachary pointed to a small opening just above her head. It was eye level for him, but not for her. He peered out of it now. "Still only two of them,” he said before looking at her. "Now on the count of three, I'm going to kick open the doors. Stay to the side here and don't move. When no one emerges, they'll come to investigate." "You plan on killing them?" she asked horrified. "Not if I can help it. Just stand back and make sure you stay out of my way." He centered himself in front of the door. With one swift movement, he plowed into it. Only his plan didn’t work as he had thought. The door did not budge. Zachary fell backwards, landing hard. "Any other smart ideas?" She looked down at him, her lips thinned with annoyance. He ignored her comments. "They must have it barred on the outside." "You think?" she said rolling her eyes. "Are you sure there isn't another way out?” He stood brushing of his pants. "No, there isn't another way out. I've been around the whole place." "Great. Just great." She threw her arms up in the air. "You’re acting as if this is all my fault." "Well, isn't it?" Gillian put her hands on her hips while she waited for him to answer, when he didn't she continued, "Don't you see? You need to give up your quest with Creighton Manor. Is it really worth being abducted in the middle of the night? You have what's important. You have a nephew who adores you. You have Lotti who cares for you. You have Ellery, believe it or not. Family and friends are important, not a house." Zachary painfully noticed that she didn’t include herself with the people that cared for him. He agreed that family was important, but his whole life had been wrapped around getting that manor back in his possession. He couldn't let it go, not now, when it was so close to being in his grasp. "I can’t give up Creighton Manor." "Even with someone trying to harm you, that is all you care about. What a sad selfish existence."

Zachary didn’t have a chance to comment, for they heard the door to the barn being pried open. Zachary quickly grabbed the piece of wood that was leaning against the wall. They both ran to the other side and waited. A man with long blond hair and scruffy beard entered with a lantern lighting his way. Zachary was on him in a flash. He slammed the wood against the man's skull and he crumpled to the ground in one big heap. The lantern luckily rolled harmlessly to the side. "Hey!" A second man, taller and lankier entered with a gun in his hand. He was prepared for the assault and ducked. He then lunged at Zachary's feet throwing them to the ground. They grappled for possession of the gun, which Zachary managed to kick out of the man's hand. Finally, Zachary got one good swing in and knocked the kidnapper out. A third unexpected man came charging in. This time, the man had the advantage of surprise. "Hold on right there. You ain't going nowhere. I oughta put a bullet in you now and save me the trouble of doin' it later." Zachary held up his hands and shrugged. “That’s better,” the man said. His lazy smile made his wide face appear homelier. “Now—” Before he could utter another word, Gillian charged throwing herself at the man's legs. Being thrown off guard by the sudden impact, he fell forward. Zachary promptly whacked him on the head, knocking him out before he even knew what happened. Zachary looked at Gillian, a grin slowly spreading across his face. For the moment, they forgot they were angry at each other. "You're going to have to stop saving me like that. What are people going to say?" "Well, someone has to watch over you since death seems to be knocking at your door." One of the men groaned, drawing their attention to their situation. "What are we going to do with them?" She motioned with her thumb. "Tie them up." He picked up the guns that were scattered on the ground, keeping one of them on him and discarding the others. He retrieved the lantern and handed it to Gillian. "I’ll stay here and guard these three, if you’ll go hunt down something we can use to tie them up." Gillian headed toward the back of the barn. She barely began the search, when Molly came out of one of the stalls with rope in her mouth. She promptly dropped it at Gillian's feet. "You're an amazing dog, Molly. Are you a guardian angel in disguise?" Molly turned her head to one side as if she was trying to understand what Gillian was saying. "Come on girl." They made their way back to Zachary. "Here's the rope." She handed it to him and he handed her the gun. "Make sure you don't shoot me." "Keep testing me like you have been and I just might." Zachary gave her a lopsided grin and went to work tying the kidnapper’s hands behind their backs and then tying their feet. After he was finished, he took the gun back. "Now what?" she asked. "We wait until one of them wakes up so I can find out the information that I need." "Can't we just let the authorities take care of this?” "I might be a little more persuasive." Since, he knew the men wouldn't be alert for a little while, he decided he would see what supplies were available for them. He picked up the lantern and headed toward the open door. He was almost there, when Gillian called to him. "Where are you going with the light?"

"I’ll only be a minute.” He was good to his word and came back with a blanket and another lantern that he had already lit. He spread the blanket out. “There,” he said as he turned to glance at her standing with her arms wrapped around her. She looked a sight with her hair all tangled, straw sticking out all over and dirt smudged on her left cheek. He had the urge to kiss her. "Hell and damnation," he said under his breath. Even in her bedraggled condition, she was enticing. He cleared his throat. "I want to check out where we are and make sure we don't have any more surprises in store for us." Gillian sat down and stretched her legs out in front of her. Molly circled a few times before settling down at her side. While Gillian waited, she began to puzzle over how Molly came to be with them in the first place. She wasn’t at Lotti's house. They had left her at home. Home? She realized how easily it had slipped into her mind to call the house where Zachary and Tyler lived—home. It seemed in the short time that she had been here she’d come to feel comfortable with her life with the Creighton’s. She could see herself staying, which only managed to confuse her more. She wished she could call up Samantha and talk this all out. She missed their late night talks at Polly’s, the coffee shop near her apartment with the best homemade pies and freshly brewed coffee. She even missed Jerry. He had been a friend long before she had ever dated him. She wondered if they were worried about her. It was odd that even though she missed her old friends and her old life, she felt like she belonged here. Molly licked her hand and she leaned over to pet her. "What am I to do if the time arrives for me to go back home, Molly?" *** Zachary finally wandered back in, and for a moment, he just stood there and watched Gillian nuzzle close to Molly, seemingly carrying on a conversation with the mutt. She finally noticed him and looked up meeting his gaze with those green eyes— siren eyes. A knot rose in his throat and for a split second, he thought about turning around and running back outside. He wanted her until he ached inside, but he knew rejection would be all he would ever get from her. It was going to be one long and agonizing night. "Have any of them stirred?" he asked from his position at the doorway. Just by looking at the three men, he knew they hadn’t, but he had to start a conversation to keep his mind off her... lips, luscious lips, kissable lips. His eyes lingered just long enough to make him squirm. Fortunately, she seemed not to notice his discomfort. She had already turned away to glance at the unconscious men. "Not a peep." She was happy to report. She looked at him and frowned. "Why are you hovering in the doorway? Do you plan on joining me or do you expect me to interrogate your prisoners when they wake up?" Her brows rose as she waited for him to reply. “Your tongue is sharp enough. You might do well to interrogate.” She rolled her eyes. He walked toward her and into the light. Gillian gasped. “Oh God, you do have a nasty bruise on the side of your head.” He touched the area. "Does your head hurt?" Zachary sat down next to Molly using her as a barrier between them. "Just a little. Are you all right?"

"I think I’ll live." She gave him a quirky half smile. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess." He was too. He didn't want anything to happen to her. "All this violence, and for a house, you haven't even lived in since you were a child. Aren't you tired of having to watch your back? Wouldn't it be easier if you just let it go? Build another house. Start over. You don't have to carry on this personal vendetta against Cyrus." He ran his fingers through his hair. "You don't understand." "You're right. I don't understand." They remained silent after that. Zachary played with the hay on the ground and Gillian kept squirming trying to find a comfortable position. She was now sitting cross-legged with one elbow on her knee and resting her chin on the palm of her hand. One of the men groaned. Zachary flew to his feet and went over to where the men were tied up. He crouched down beside the man with the long blond hair waiting for him to come fully awake. When he opened his eyes and he found he was bound, curses flew from his mouth with bitter resentment. "So... " Zachary interrupted, "I don't think, we've been properly introduced.” "I ain't tellin’ you nothin'," the man spat. "Oh, I think you might, especially since you’re not going anywhere soon." Zachary then stretched his arms and yawned. "I'm a bit tired myself. Had a rough night, you know. I guess I'll be getting some shuteye. Maybe you'll be a little more co-operative in the morning." "You ain't aimin’ to keep me tied up all night?" "Well..." Zachary rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I do believe that is my plan." The man cursed again. "Tsk tsk... Didn't your mother teach you any manners? We have a lady present." He pointed over his shoulder to where Gillian was seated. "Maybe I need to be talkin' to the little lady about lettin' me go." "Remember you and your friends kidnapped her and threw her in a barn. I don't think she’s in a compassionate mood." “If she hadn't shown up when she did, we wouldn’t have taken her. What were we suppose to do?" Zachary glanced at Gillian, wondering why she had been in his room. He made a mental note to ask her later and brought his attention back to the man in question. "I just want to know why you’re holding us here. Who sent you?" "I don't know and that's the God's honest truth of the matter. There be a man that gave us the instructions. We's were paid good money up front and we's would get the other half when the person came to collect ya’ll." "Do you know what this person wanted from me?" "Ain't got a clue. Just knows the person wanted you alive. Had strict orders on that. We wouldn’t have knocked you on the head. I was plannin’ to use the chloroform on ya, too, but Sam panicked." He nodded toward the lanky man to the right of him. "What about the incident on the dock?" Zachary wanted to know if the two events were related.

"Dock?” The man seemed confused. "I ain't followin’ you there. We's were told to take you from the house. That's why we waited for you in your room. There was no mention of the docks." Zachary rubbed his chin. If they weren't the ones responsible for the attack on the dock then that meant there was someone else after him. "Hey, ain't you going to untie me? I told you all I know." "I thought we would wait for the person to show up to collect us. I would love to properly introduce myself." "Ain't goin’ to happen. I was on my way to meet someone to let ‘um know we's had you. When I don't show, they could only assume somethin' went wrong. They won't be contactin' us again. I'm mighty upset at that, too. They were givin' us a large sum of money." The man's eyes narrowed. "If you give us the amount that we's were suppose to have, we'll let you alone." Zachary chuckled. "Well, that is mighty kind of you but as I see it, you are in no position to make any bargains. All I have to do is fetch the sheriff and you'll be leaving me alone." "No!" The man sounded panicked. "I see your point. We's will just leave town." "I think that would be a wise choice." Zachary rose from his seat and went over to Gillian. "You ready to go home, now?" She looked up at him and nodded. He offered his hand and hauled her to her feet. Then taking his knife out, he undid Sam’s binds. He was still dead to the world. "That should do it. When your friend there wakes up, he can help you two with the ropes. I hope that I didn't hit him too hard. I knew one man that stayed unconscious for three days." "Three days! Are you mad? We's can't stay like this for three days. With the heat, we’d die of thirst." "That would be a shame wouldn't it now. I'll tell you what. I'll tell the sheriff about you in two days. If you haven’t escaped by then, he can help you out." The man murmured something under his breath and began struggling with his ropes. Zachary whistled for Molly as they headed around back to where the three horses were tied. He untied two of them and whacked them on the behind to scare them off. Both horses galloped away at a fast pace. He then calmed the remaining horse before he untied him. Zachary looked at Gillian now. "I'll help you up." He took hold of her waist and hoisted her up on the mount. Her nightgown rose halfway up her leg exposing a creamy firm thigh just inches from his reach. Zachary swallowed hard. He pretended to adjust the pack before he jumped up behind her and took the reins. It was going to be one hell of a long ride. Gillian tried her best to sit ramrod straight so she wouldn’t lean against Zachary since he had the tendency to muddle her senses. She was failing miserably for she was aware of every restless movement he made behind her. "Do you know where we are?” To her annoyance, her voice cracked. "Um huh. We’re just outside of town. This land belonged to George Metz, but when his house burned down some years ago, he up and left. The barn was all that was left." Gillian pulled straw and God-only-knew-what-else out of her hair. "What I would do for a shower." "You want it to rain?"

Gillian couldn't help but laugh. "No, not rain. A shower in my time is being able to go into your own private bathroom, turn on the warm water and have it spray above you so you can wash yourself." She sighed. "That is one luxury, I do miss." "I may not be able to provide you with a shower, but I can bring you to a place where you can wash. If that is what you wish." "Really?" Gillian said with more enthusiasm than she had meant to betray. Zachary chuckled. "Yes, if you’re not too tired that is. I know, you wanted to get home," he teased. "No, take me to this place." "Your wish is my command then." He clicked his tongue and directed the mount to head toward the right. Gillian could see the inlet of water before he stopped the horse and dismounted. He lifted his arms to help Gillian down, but before he released her, he gave her some advice, "Don’t swim too far away from the edge, the incline drops drastically to deep waters." “Where will you be?” His eyes traveled the length of her and he heaved a sigh. "I'll stay over here.” He pointed. “So you can have privacy." He let her go then and led the horse into the darkness. Molly came into view and positioned herself at the water's edge. Her soft brown eyes watched her. Gillian felt safe, knowing that Molly stood guard. She would alert her of any trouble. She removed her clothing and lowered herself from the ledge into the cool water. It was a welcoming feeling since the night air was still warm. The water only reached her shoulders, so she ducked her head under the water to wash her hair. It was unfortunate that she didn't have a bar of soap. She rubbed the strands of her hair through her fingers, trying to clean it as thoroughly as possible. Then she decided to go for a swim making sure she stayed near the edge, enjoying the freedom. She swam with smooth easy strokes that she learned so long ago. Molly was still lying in the same spot when Gillian returned, but the mutt lifted her head. "Why am I here, Molly?” Gillian rubbed the top of her head. “Am I to live my life, trying to save Zachary Creighton?” “Maybe you are.” She was startled by the strong vibrancy of his voice. She whirled around to face him. “You’re in the water.” “Very observant.” Zachary waded toward her. "Maybe you’re going at it the wrong way. Maybe, it's not my physical being that needs rescuing. Maybe it's my soul you’re here to save." Gillian’s mouth twitched, threatening to smile. "That I believe is beyond redemption." Zachary's warm chuckle filled the night air. She swallowed hard as his steady gaze traveled over her face. Zachary submerged himself under the water and resurfaced closer to her. She could see the dark bruise on the side of his head and she reached out to caress the area. Zachary didn’t move as she touched the side of his face. When she realized what she was doing, she tried to withdraw, but Zachary quickly stopped her. He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to the hollow of her palm. She wanted nothing more than for him to pull her into his embrace and tell her there was nothing to fear. Gillian’s heart quickened until it felt as though it threatened to burst right out of her chest. All she had to do is move a fraction of a step closer and she would be in his arms, but she

couldn't do it. She chewed on her lower lip afraid to speak, fearing she would break her resolve. Zachary’s voice was a husky whisper. "Gillian Creighton, I have never wanted anyone the way I want you.” She wanted him too, but not on a whim that would bring regret in the morning. She must remain focused. She didn’t belong here. Someone waited for her back in her time. The dreams … Her gaze lingered on Zachary’s lips before she looked away. If only he’d say the words. She cleared her throat and managed the courage to ask, wanting to know how he felt, hoping against all hope he wouldn’t disappoint her. "Do you love me?" Zachary's eyebrows knitted together as if he didn’t understand the question. His silence told her his answer. She withdrew her hand. "You wouldn't hesitate as you are now, if you did. You would have just answered." She turned her gaze to Molly. Molly stood and paced as if she wanted to be on her way. "We should be going,” Gillian said. “It will be morning soon.” She glanced up at the sky that was already shades lighter. “Everyone back at Lotti’s will be worried if we aren't there when they wake up." He sighed. "If that’s what you want. I'll start a fire so we can dry off." His voice was controlled, but Gillian knew he held back his frustration. His gaze lingered over her face. His eyes softened and he swallowed hard. She thought perhaps he would tell her he loved her. “Gillian?” She held her breath… waited. “I… I left a blanket by your clothes.” He turned away. He didn’t see how he had disappointed her as he swam back the way he arrived, disappearing into the darkness. Molly whined, drawing Gillian's attention to her once more. Gillian could almost sense the dog disapproved of her actions. "What did you expect me to do?" she said to Molly. "I have principles." With that statement, Gillian stepped out of the water. She used the blanket to dry off. Once she was dressed, she walked over to where Zachary stood. He used a large stick to keep the fire from extinguishing. She knew he had heard her walk up behind him, but he refused to acknowledge her. Obviously he brooded over her rejection. Gillian was wise enough not to say anything. She plopped down on another blanket Zachary had spread out on the ground. She pulled her wet hair in front of her so the warmth from the fire could dry it. After a few minutes, Zachary finally settled down beside her. She studied him watching his jaw muscles clench and unclench. He was still upset with her. Zachary glanced her way. He hadn’t expected Gillian to ask him if he loved her. In all honesty, he thought perhaps he did. She stood up to him. She was brave to a fault and … His gaze wavered over her features: Cute little nose, eyes with thick lashes, and lips meant for kissing. She was incredibly beautiful. God, he wanted her. She made him painfully aware she was a woman and he was a man. He should say something, tell her how he felt, but he was hesitant because he knew she didn’t want him. She tentatively put her hand on his. "Don't be cross with me," she whispered. If it were possible, she was even lovelier in the fire’s light. Her hair was gleaming gold and her cheeks were pink from the heat. How could he be angry with her? He gave her hand a little squeeze.

"I'm not upset with you. It's been a long day and I'm just tired." He patted her hand before he released it. He looked back to the fire and tried to lose himself within the flames. Gillian on the other hand wanted to converse. "You’ll have your freedom soon because you will win the bet with Cyrus. Once I'm out of your way, you can set up house with Violet Ellsworth." His head felt like it was about to snap off his neck the way he turned to look at her. He narrowed his eyes. "Is that what you think I want?" "Well, you were kissing her. The woman’s hands were on you and yours on her. Do you casually throw your affections around?” She seemed unaware how her words stung. "Let’s get this straight once and for all. Violet kissed me not the other way around." "You didn't seem to be objecting." "Nor were you objecting when you were in Ellery's arms." He was quick to remind her. “Ellery was comforting me and—" She didn't get a chance to finish her sentence, for Zachary added his two cents worth. "Oh... I just bet he was comforting you. You cringe at your own husband’s caresses, but you willingly give yourself to Ellery without a thought." "How dare you!" She tried to slap his face but he anticipated the move and grabbed her arm. She squirmed to be free, but he pinned her down. Her leg came up and nearly met its mark. He straddled her, stilling her movements. She glared up at him. “Get off of me!” She was seething, her breasts jutting forward with each breath. In their tussle, her nightgown fell to the side exposing a soft ivory shoulder that was beckoning to him. He felt his body stirring in remembrance of the one night they shared. He was angry with her and yet he wanted her so badly, he ached inside. He realized she had stopped struggling. His eyes met hers and he knew she wasn’t immune to his nearness. He could see how the light of desire illuminated the mellow green of her eyes. He leaned down to kiss her. “Don’t,” she pleaded. He hesitated only a moment before he decided to kiss her anyway. His mouth moved over hers, devouring her sweetness, demanding she respond. Gillian didn’t want to feel anything, but she couldn’t help it. His kiss sang through her veins, causing heat to ripple under her skin. She wanted to touch him but he still held her wrists. She couldn’t hold back any longer. She couldn’t deny what his caresses were doing to her. She returned his kiss with reckless abandonment and she heard him groan. He freed her hands and she pulled him closer, her fingers glided over his lean masculine plane of his back, her senses throbbing with the feel and scent of him. His hands gathered her nightgown, hiking it up until he could slip it over her head. His mouth closed softly over the flower of her breast causing molten shafts of sensations to run down her stomach to her legs. His hand slipped beneath the waistband of her underwear, his fingers parting the soft curling hair to stroke her. She was ready, so ready that her body ached with the promise of fulfillment. “Zachary,” her voice was breathless as she helped him remove his shirt and the rest of the hindering clothing until they lay flesh to flesh. Her hand moved over his side, feeling the scar where he had been stabbed, knowing this moment could have been lost to them if he had succumbed to his injuries. She buried her face against his throat and breathed a kiss there. His knee moved between her bare legs, parting them. She welcomed him into her body and fire-bolts of desire arced through her. Their lovemaking was rough, raw and with each deepening thrust, she trembled. She let the piston-driving strength of his body possess her, not caring that he didn’t love her, not caring

she would have to leave him one day. This night, right now, he was hers. The moment of ecstasy exploded all around her as he suddenly jerked, the final explosion hitting him just as hard. Afterward, they lay in silence, not touching as they caught their breath both of them knowing nothing had changed. Their relationship was still a mess and having sex had done nothing, but relieve pent up tension. Gillian crossed her arms over her breasts feeling selfconscious. He turned toward her. He tried to take her in his arms, but she sat up. She grabbed her nightgown and slipped it on. “We should go,” she told him, throwing his clothes at him. Zachary stood and jammed his legs into his pants. “Gillian, look at me.” She turned, her hair tumbling carelessly over her shoulder, her lips swollen from his caresses. “I’m not sorry about what we did.” “We can’t keep letting it happen.” She threw back. “Why not? I like how you fit to me. Hell and damnation, you’re my wife.” “And we both know I shouldn’t be. I haven’t even been born yet.” He opened his mouth, but closed it again. If she was truly from the future, she was right. “I don’t care.” “Well, I do. Stop pretending what we have is anything other than sex.” “Don’t cheapen what we did.” “I’m calling it what it is.” He could barely keep his anger controlled. “We made love, Gillian. That is what it is called when a husband and wife give themselves to each other.” “Only we aren’t in love with each other, are we? Married couples don’t make bets if they should stay married or not. They don’t put their whole life on the line for a wager.” “Gillian, I—” “Don’t.” She put up her hand to stop him. “No more. I can’t take anymore. I get it. You have to have Creighton Manor. You can’t see straight until it’s yours.” She shook her head and started walking away. "Where are you going?" he called after her. “I don’t want to argue with you. I think it best if I wait for you by the horse.” “We aren’t arguing!” he shouted causing her to lift one lovely arched eyebrow. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. What could he say? Everything she said was true. No wonder she didn’t want him. “Fine, wait with the horse.” He didn’t move, but watched her walk away. He was angry with her, but it didn’t stop him from admiring how her hips swayed. “Hell and damnation!” Molly approached him and sat down beside him, nuzzling her nose at his hand. Zachary looked at her and petted her as he spoke, "What am I going to do about her?" Molly tilted her head and whined. As they headed home, the sky burst with color, as a new day dawned. Molly kept a close pace with them for a while then she disappeared. Zachary had no doubt that he would find her safely at home. Gillian was exhausted beyond reason. She tried staying awake by sitting up straight. However, as they continued their trot home, her eyes kept drooping. She would have fallen off the horse, but he pulled her against him. She tried to struggle to sit up again, but he insisted. Finally she gave up and gave into the exhaustion. Zachary had his arms securely around her as he held onto the reins. Gillian had snuggled close to him in her sleep. God knew, he didn't want to argue with her, but it seemed that

was all they were capable of doing. A relationship with her seemed utterly impossible since she wanted to fight him at every turn. Yet he knew he didn’t want to give up on them. He felt a connection with her that he couldn’t explain. If he lost her, he didn’t know what he would do, and because of that idiotic bet he made with her, it might be exactly what was going to happen. He lost no matter what he did. He couldn’t end the wager, but if he won Creighton Manor, he was going to lose Gillian. He was sure she would demand her release from him. Even though, he didn’t want to let her go, he was a man of his word. He wouldn’t force her to stay with him. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Gillian awoke to the sound of Tyler running down the hall and Dora yelling after him to stop. She sat up in bed and tried to recall if last night had really happened. The slight headache told her it hadn’t been a dream. Those weren’t the only aches she was experiencing. However, those aches were welcomed. Zachary’s kisses and the way he made her body crave his touch. He said he wasn’t sorry it happened. If she would admit the truth, she wasn’t entirely sorry about it either. She managed to slide out of bed and splash some cold water on her face before she dressed and headed downstairs. Lotti and Zachary were seated in the formal dining room, each nursing a cup of tea. Lotti noticed her first. “You poor, poor dear. Zachary was just telling me about your adventure last night. How are you feeling this morning?" "I'm fine." Gillian assured her. Her gaze found Zachary’s. He had risen from his seat. The swelling on the side of his head had gone down and the bruise wasn’t half as bad in the light. "Come, dear." Lotti took her arm and led her to the table. Zachary quickly went to her side and pulled out a chair for her to sit down. He then poured her a cup of tea. The special attention took Gillian by surprise. What was he up to? Zachary sat down again. "How are you feeling this morning?" "I’m fine. I was thinking the same thing about you. How’s your head." He lightly touched his bruised temple. "It's a little tender, but I think I will live." "Not at the rate you’re going." Lotti snorted, unhappily. "You need to put an end to this Zachary for your sake as well as for everyone else’s." "What are you suggesting?" "Call off the bet. Give up your obsession with Creighton Manor and make a home with Gillian and Tyler." "I can't let it go, not when I'm this close. I have my reasons,” Zachary said as he came to his feet. He looked at Gillian as if he wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the right words. His eyelids fluttered in frustration and he inhaled deeply. “I have to go.” He spun on his heels and stalked out of the room. "He's a stubborn fool." Lotti shook her head sadly. “Don’t I know it.” Gillian reached for the silver creamer and added a splash of milk to her tea. “I believe I’ll take my tea out front if you don’t mind.” “No dear, I don’t mind at all. Some fresh air will do you wonders.” “Thank you, Lottie. Would you like to join me?”

“I would love to, but I need to tend to some business.” She patted her hand. “Enjoy your morning.” Gillian went outside to the porch. She spotted Zachary and Tyler taking turns throwing a stick to Molly. She placed her teacup on the table and walked to the edge of the porch to watch them play. Molly barked and ran in and out of the Gazebo before she returned with her prize. Tyler finally spotted her. “Aunt Gillian!” He waved and ran over to greet her. He threw his arms around her waist, giving her a big bear hug. "I'm so glad you’re okay." He looked up with his deep brown eyes and smiled. "I guess you heard about our little adventure?” Tyler nodded as he released her. Zachary had walked over to them. "I knew that he would hear about it sooner or later. I decided it was best that it came from me." Gillian nodded her agreement. There was an awkward silence before Zachary added. "Are you ready to head home?" Home, but it should be his home. It shouldn’t be hers. Zachary had welcomed her into his world and she had gladly accepted. She hadn’t wanted to, but she cared for all the Creighton’s... all the Creighton’s. Her gaze locked onto Zachary’s and like always her body tingled with awareness. He’s not for you, Gillian. He can’t be. “Gillian, are you all right?” She blinked and looked away. No, I’m not all right. She cleared her throat. "I’m ready to go whenever you are.” CHAPTER NINETEEN Cyrus sat at one of the tables in the back of the saloon. He twirled his glass, watching the amber liquid swirl around. He wanted Zachary out of his life and he could almost taste the victory, but he wanted reassurance. He hired Edward T. Willis to check into the matter. He was to report his findings to him today. Finally, Edward entered the Saloon. He removed his brown Derby and scanned the room. Cyrus lifted his hand and Edward nodded as he headed toward him. Edward pulled out a chair and took a seat next to him. "Well?" Cyrus was impatient for the information and skipped the pleasantries. "I spoke to Leathers as you asked. Nice gent by the way.” “I didn’t pay you to befriend the man.” Sarcasm laced his words. Edward cleared his throat. “Leathers is sure he will have no trouble beating Cannon and his Robert E. Lee." Cyrus relaxed and sat back in his seat. A slow smile spread across his face. He had a sure bet. Zachary would lose and he would be forced to stay clear of the gambling tables. "Now that is what I wanted to hear." He sat forward again. “Did he say when this race was actually going to take place?" He hoped soon. "Tomorrow. He asked me to keep this under my hat though. Remember they put disclaimers in the paper stating, they wouldn’t stage a race." "Don't worry; I have no intentions of uttering a word."

CHAPTER TWENTY PRESENT TIME Samantha made the call to Jerry's office and waited for the receptionist to connect her. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she heard his deep baritone voice. "What's wrong, Samantha? Stephanie told me it was an emergency." Stephanie, Jerry’s receptionist wanted her to leave a message, but Samantha insisted she needed to speak to Jerry. "I'm sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you at work, but I didn’t know who else to call. No one will listen to me.” “Has something happened?” “Yes, something has happened. I can’t find Gillian anywhere. She’s gone.” "She's probably out, shopping or something and lost track of time. I'm sure she'll be back soon." Jerry remained polite, but Samantha didn’t miss the patronizing tone in his voice. "You don't understand,” Samantha hurried to explain. “We were staying aboard the Queen Mary. Gillian went back to the room to change her clothes. When she never returned, I went to find out what was taking her so long. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t anywhere. She’s not on the friggin ship!” “You’re on the Queen Mary?” “Isn’t that what I’ve been saying?” She was near hysterics now. “Okay, okay. Let’s think rationally. Did you drive there?” “We took her car and yes, it’s still in the parking lot. This isn’t like Gillian. She wouldn’t have left without saying anything.” “Normally I would agree, but Gillian hasn’t exactly been acting like herself lately.” Samantha understood why Jerry felt that way. Gillian and Jerry had been together for three years. Then Gillian up and ended their relationship as if it had meant nothing. "As much as I would like to not think about this,” Jerry said, “could it be possible Gillian is with her boyfriend?” What was he talking about? Gillian didn’t have a boyfriend. Then she remembered. Gillian had told Jerry she was seeing someone else. She didn't want to contribute to the lie, but to explain everything now would take too long. "She can't be with him," she said. "He's out of town on business. He won't be back until next week." She cringed at the lie. "Oh,” he managed to say. “I had wondered if she told you she was seeing someone else.” “Jerry, I can’t wrap my head around what you’re feeling right now. I know Gillian hurt you, but if you cared about her at all, please help me here.” He sighed heavily. “I do care about her, but I’m not sure what I can do except maybe lend some moral support.” "Thanks Jerry." Samantha gave him the room number before she hung up the phone. It was the longest hour that she had ever waited, but finally, Jerry knocked on the cabin door. She swung the door open. He stood there tall, tanned and completely gorgeous. A knight in shining armor ready to save the damsel in distress even when she had spurned him. Either he was a glutton for punishment or he was one nice guy. She moved aside for him to enter the cabin.

"You were both staying here?" Jerry asked looking over the stateroom for signs of some kind of struggle. "Yes." “Was anything missing?” He turned to look at her. “No.” She shook her head then stopped. “Wait, her purse. Her purse isn’t here. I'm worried, Jerry. I’m aware she's been acting weird, but I know she wouldn’t just leave and not tell me where she was going." He shrugged. "I don't have any suggestions, Samantha. I haven't spoken with Gillian since..." Samantha felt bad for him. He couldn't even bring himself to say, since they had broken up. Heck, she couldn’t believe Gillian broke up with him either. They never fought. They shared similar tastes. They were one couple she thought would spend the rest of their lives together. Jerry had dark circles under his eyes and his gaze showed his exhaustion. He wanted answers to what went wrong with the relationship, but Gillian had failed to tell the truth. She put her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. I should have realized how difficult this would be for you." "No, it's all right," Jerry assured her. "Gillian and I may not be together as a couple anymore, but I can't just pretend I don’t care about her. I would have been upset if you hadn't called me." She stared at him for a moment before she nodded. He meant every word. "What should we do? No one here will talk to me. Matter of fact it’s almost like they are afraid to say anything." “What do you mean?” “It’s weird. The whole thing has been creepy.” She hugged herself as she nervously glanced around the room. “This room is haunted.” Jerry lifted his eyebrows. “No, it’s true. They said so at the front desk, and I can sense that something is wrong with this room.” “You’ve let your imagination go wild. This is the Queen Mary. They offer haunted tours. This room is no more haunted than my house is. It’s just a marketing tool to draw people in.” “No, it isn’t a marketing tool. When Gillian never showed up last night, I found the receptionist that checked us in, hoping she would help me. Do you know that she had the audacity to say?” “Oh this I have to hear.” “I shouldn’t worry because they always show up sooner or later.” “What is that suppose to mean?” “I have no idea, but before I could ask, she was whisked away by another employee.” Jerry headed for the door turning to look at Samantha as he opened it. “Let’s go find this receptionist and question her a little further, shall we?” CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE June 30th 1870

Gillian’s insides twisted as dread filled her, June 30 th had arrived. The day of the big race which would change her life forever. Zachary would win back Creighton Manor in three days, eighteen hours and fourteen minutes. She wouldn’t be with Zachary anymore. She would be granted her release and he could make his life with Violet. The thought of him being with that awful woman turned her stomach. She shouldn’t care what he did with his life, but for some reason her heart ached anyway. Zachary must have realized their relationship was hopeless. He kept his distance, making it painfully obvious he was fine with the arrangement of separate rooms. She knew she told him: Hands off. However, when did that ever stop him? “What’s wrong with me?” she mumbled to herself. “You can’t have it both ways. Either you want him or you don’t.” She didn’t know anymore. She cancelled her wedding with Jerry because of her dreams and they had dated for three years. She knew Jerry. Knew what he liked to have for breakfast and knew how he liked his coffee. In retrospect, she didn’t know Zachary at all and yet she contemplated forgetting about the dreams. “Zachary.” She liked how his mouth curved into a lazy smile, his sense of humor and the way he looked at her as if she were the only person in the room. If she went back to her time, she’d even miss their bantering … among other things. She couldn’t deny the chemistry they shared like they were meant to be together. She shook her head. Impossible, since she technically hadn’t been born yet. She didn’t want to think about it anymore. She wanted to go home. Hopefully, the twist of fate that brought her here was to help Zachary win Creighton Manor. If this were the case, then it would soon be over. Gillian went downstairs and into the library in search of a new book to read. She picked one off the shelf. She heard the knock at the front door and Dora answering it. She was surprised to hear Ellery’s voice. Since the misunderstanding that occurred at Lotti's, they hadn’t heard from him. Dora led him to the library, while she went to find Zachary. "It's good to see you again, Gillian." Ellery removed his hat and stood a safe distance away. He no doubt didn’t want to enrage Zachary again by standing too close to her. "It's good to see you, too." Gillian truly meant it. She had actually missed his teasing good nature. "I'm hoping Zachary will feel the same way as you do." A pang of remorse shot through her. Zachary and Ellery had been good friends. Now look at them. "I'm sorry about what happened. I feel responsible. Is there anything I can do to help patch things up?” "Don't worry about us. We have been friends for a long time. We'll be fine," he said with a shrug. “Zachary is acting irrational because he doesn’t understand his feelings for you.” She stared at him and moistened her lips. “What do you mean?” “He’s never wanted anything except Creighton Manor. It’s no wonder he doesn’t recognize he’s in love with you.” She chuckled nervously and shook her head. “I don’t think—” “He is. You can accept it or not, but the truth is there. You’re in love with him, too, if you’d care to admit it. I’ve never seen two more stubborn fools, but hey, who am I to judge?” He chuckled. “Listen to me babble when I came here baring good news. The race is on, but I suppose you already knew that." Gillian sighed. "Yes, I did."

"Why such the long face?” He had to ask. "I thought that you would be ecstatic to prove your story to Zachary." "Yes, but in three days, it will all be over. My life will never be the same again." “What do you mean it won’t be the same? Is something going to happen?” She gave him a brave smile. “It’ll be all right, Ellery.” His brows furrowed. He looked like he wanted to question her further, but Zachary walked into the room. Zachary was glad to see his old friend, as well as embarrassed about how he had last treated him at Lotti’s. He had mulled things over and had concluded he had misinterpreted Ellery and Gillian’s embrace. Gillian had told him Ellery was only comforting her; he believed her. Ellery had the reputation of being a lady's man, but he was a true friend and he should have known better. Ellery would never show anything but honorable attentions toward his wife. Their eyes met, neither knowing exactly how to approach the other. Zachary felt he should make the first move, since Ellery had been man enough to come to his home to face him. Without a word, he took the steps that separated them. He embraced Ellery, slapping him affectionately on the back. Ellery was happy to return the gesture of friendship. "I’m truly sorry, Ellery. I was rash and should have listened to what you had to say." "There's no need to apologize. The incident is long forgotten." Zachary smiled. “Stay and have a drink with me." “I’ll take my book upstairs,” Gillian decided to make her exit. “Goodnight, Ellery.” “Goodnight.” He bowed. Zachary tried not to cause any friction between Gillian and himself, but it seemed the harder he tried to be polite and agreeable, the farther they drifted apart. He was failing miserably at being a husband. "Zachary, did you hear me?” Ellery asked. “You seem a million miles away.” "I'm sorry. You were saying?” "I said the race has begun. It started at 5 pm this evening. It is said, that sparks and charcoal smoke can be seen as the two ships plow down the river." "Oh," was all Zachary could say. Ellery leaned back in his seat. “I have one guess why you’re preoccupied and it has nothing to do with the race or with winning Creighton Manor. You still haven't set things right with Gillian have you?" "What are you talking about?" He shook his head. "I should have known by the conversation I had with Gillian.” “What conversation?” “You have to tell her. Stop pretending you don't care about her." "I've never pretended I didn’t. Surely, she knows how I feel. I married her when I didn’t have to. I've given her a roof over her head. I've fed and clothed her. What else could she possibly want?" "I’m amazed my friend how ignorant you are of a woman’s heart. All those things are nice, but have you told her your feelings for her. A woman doesn't care where she lives and she’ll make do with what you can provide as long as she knows she’s loved. God bless them; women are compassionate creatures. Love to a woman is everything. Have I not taught you anything?"

Zachary looked at Ellery with a quizzical expression. "Advice about love is not what I call your specialty. You have broken more hearts than I care to count." "See the difference between you and me, my dear boy, is that I don't want a wife." Zachary was about to say he didn’t want a wife either, but the words died on his lips. He liked the idea of being married. It wasn't just the idea of it. It was being married to Gillian that mattered. He didn't want to lose her and yet he felt he already had. He rubbed his hands over his face, feeling the full impact of defeat. "Tell her you love her, Zachary," Ellery pleaded with him. Was he that transparent to everyone around? Lotti seemed to know how he felt, and now Ellery had the same opinion. Why did he have such a difficult time accepting it himself, and why didn't his feelings show clearly for Gillian to see? He knew the answer. He feared loving her. Hadn’t she told him over and over again she waited for someone in her dreams? Even if he could compete with a fantasy, there was also the possibility of her going back to her time. It was too much. He wanted her to stay with him as long as possible, but he wouldn’t allow himself to love her. If he never said the words, he could fool himself into thinking it wasn’t true. "I care deeply for Gillian, but I'm not in love with her." Ellery shook his head and chuckled. He plopped his hat on his head ready to make his departure. "As I told Gillian earlier, you can pretend all you want, but the truth is the truth. The sooner you face up to it, the sooner you will end your torture." Ellery stood then. "I have to be going. Let's plan on meeting at the telegraph office in three days to hear the results. I know we have the outcome of the race already, but I personally would like to hear it anyway." Zachary walked Ellery to the door. "That's fine by me. We'll see you in three days.” *** Zachary went upstairs, pausing at Gillian's door. After a moment's hesitation, he decided to knock. Gillian opened the door just a crack. "May I come in for a moment? I won't keep you long.” She nodded and opened the door wide enough for him to enter. She was dressed for bed, her hair flowing free from its confines. He took note of the brush she had clutched in her hand. "Were you brushing your hair?" He knew it was a stupid question the moment he said it, for what else would she be doing with the brush. "I was about to.” "May I?" Zachary asked, as he gently took the item from her hand. Again, she nodded and sat down on the chair. He gently brushed every strand without uttering a word. Zachary met her gaze in the mirror. Her expression, the crinkling at the corner of her eyes and her creased brow were all signs that she wondered why he was here. God, he loved her green eyes the shade of a meadow. They made him forget to breath. He cleared his throat. “I love... " There was that word again. For a blink of an eye, he imagined finishing the sentence with I love you, but his mouth wouldn’t obey. "I love … your auburn hair the way it shimmers in the light." “I don’t know what you’re about, Zachary, but you can’t come in here and sweet talk me and expect me to throw my arms around you.” “That’s not—”

“I can finish brushing my hair myself.” She grabbed for the brush and for a moment he didn’t let go. They stared at each other through the mirror’s reflection. Her gaze softened and he thought she realized he wasn’t playing a game here, but then she pulled away. He stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets. "The race has begun." He cleared his throat. "About that bet we made, I want to—" "A bet is a bet.” She whirled around to face him. “You can't change it this late in the game." Her voice held a rough edge and she lifted her chin in defiance. He lost the courage to ask her to forget the wager, to give them a chance. There would be no negotiating with her. “You’re right.” He nodded, his shoulders hunching forward. “I didn’t mean to bother you.” He walked to the door, his hand on the doorknob. "I've wanted Creighton Manor for so long. I wanted it back when my father lost it, but more so when my sister died.” She turned in her chair. “Why?” He looked at her. “I sent Sarah and her husband to their death. I was supposed to be on the ship that capsized, not them. I pretended, I was giving them a gift, a chance to get away without Tyler; to have time for each other like a second honeymoon or something, but the truth of the matter was that it was simply a selfish ploy. The ticket that I had was nonrefundable, but I did manage to secure another one easily enough. I stayed behind because Cyrus was to be entering a big game in town and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to make him lose to me again. So you see, I should have been on that ship. I should have been the one who died not Sarah, not Ty. Securing Creighton Manor is the least I can do for Tyler, since I took his parents away from him." "It wasn't your fault." "I don't want your pity, Gillian. That is not why I told you this. I just... I just thought you ought to know my reason why I cannot let Creighton Manor go." He didn’t wait for Gillian to comment. Instead, he left the room closing the door behind him. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO It was the day. Zachary could barely wait to hear the results of the race. The town buzzed with excitement and bets were changed every minute from the Natchez to win then to the Robert E. Lee. As planned, Gillian, Zachary and Lotti met Ellery at the telegraph office, while Dora stayed at the house with Tyler who was sick in bed with a stomach ache. The four waited impatiently for the news to come over the wires. Lotti continually tapped her cane. Ellery flirted with every woman that passed by, while Zachary leaned against the wall running his fingers through his hair. He had done it so many times now, that it was standing on end. Gillian sat on the bench quietly, her hands folded. She waited. She prayed what she knew wouldn’t happen. She wished Zachary would lose, for that would mean... She heard the tap tapping of the telegraph. The four gathered in front of the window. "There's a ship that has docked in St. Louis." The man interpreted what the telegraph message said. "Tap tap tap", the telegraph went again. "It's the Robert E. Lee!" The man interpreting gave the shout. "She's beatin' the Natchez!" Ellery shouted his pleasure and kissed Lotti on the cheek before he lifted her off the ground and twirled her around.

"Unhand me this instance," Lotti complained half heartily, but Ellery obeyed immediately. "Begging your pardon, Lotti. I am thrilled with the results." "Made a big bet, did you?" Lotti asked smiling. Ellery's grin said it all. Zachary drew Gillian to him. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. She lifted her head and looked into his all so blue eyes. She was surprised to see they were misted with tears. She wanted to say something, but no words would leave her lips. She felt a lump form in the back of her throat. She wanted to push away from him, but at the same time, she didn’t want him to let her go. He didn't let go. Instead, he lowered his head and kissed her, warm, soft, kisses that clouded her mind. She didn't pull away, but leaned forward. She wanted more. She craved more. Then Ellery slapped Zachary on the back, breaking the spell. Zachary released her and her lips whispered his name in abandonment. She stepped away, with her hand pressed against her mouth. Ellery hugged Zachary in a bear hug, laughing and cheering at the same time. She turned and walked down the street filled with people. The news of the race and its result spread like wild fire from one person to another. She just wanted to be away from it all. She walked faster, her vision blurred as the tears began to fall. Zachary had won and she had lost. She rounded the corner of the mercantile, so lost in her misery she didn’t notice someone followed her until it was too late. He grabbed her from behind and clamped a damp cloth over her mouth. She choked back the antiseptic smell. She thought to herself before blackness overtook her, “Not again.” *** Zachary looked everywhere for Gillian, becoming frantic when he couldn’t find her. He needed to tell her how he felt about her, about them. He would fight for her. They arrived home and found out from Dora that Gillian hadn’t returned. "Where could she be?” Zachary threw his hands up in the air. "I'll go back to town and have another look," Ellery volunteered. "You stay here, just in case she returns." "No, I'm coming too," Zachary insisted, already donning his hat. "I can't sit here and do nothing." Lotti stepped in. "Have either one of you considered that maybe she went back to her own time? We have known this could be a possibility." "No!" Zachary shouted. "She couldn't have. I refuse to think that's a possibility." Zachary swung open the door, startled by the boy who stood there. “What do you want?” The boy had to be about ten. His clothes were worn and his hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in days. The boy handed him a note and took off running. “What was that about?” Ellery said coming to stand behind Zachary as he opened the folded paper, reading along with him. "What the... A ransom? Who would be holding Gillian for ransom?" "One guess," Zachary seethed as he crumpled the note within his fist. "Cyrus Locke?” Ellery exclaimed. "Who else could it be? With the amount of money the kidnapper is asking for, it will wipe me out.

I'll be forced to sell Creighton Manor. I expect, once Creighton Manor is up on the market, Cyrus will be there to put his bid in." "What are you going to do?" Ellery asked. "Do?" Zachary’s brows furrowed. "What asinine question is that? I'm paying. I don't want anything to happen to Gillian. Her safety first, nothing else matters. I'd sell my soul, if that's what it takes to bring her back to me." Lotti nodded her approval. “It’s one heck of a way to expose one’s heart, but it’s about time you face how you feel about Gillian.” Zachary ignored his grandmother’s remark. He’d face his feelings when he had Gillian safe in his arms. "The note says to leave the money with a person at the Mertz’s barn," Ellery stated. "I'll go with you.” *** When Gillian finally came to, she found she’d been blindfolded and seated on a chair with her hands bound behind her. She heard someone in the room and froze. Her heart pounded in her ears. "Don't struggle with your ropes, Mrs. Creighton," a man with a deep voice advised her. "I assure you, they are securely tied and you will not be able to get out of them." "Who are you?" Gillian asked, not that she thought the man would tell her since he had blindfolded her. He chuckled. "Your guardian, for right now." He slid his hand against her cheek, making her flinch. "Pretty thing you are. It's a pity you won't be with me long." The man dropped his hand away. He didn’t say more. He left the room, shutting the door behind him. Gillian let her breath out in a whoosh. She didn't waste any time. She started working on the ropes. She had no intentions of waiting around to find out what he meant by she wouldn’t be with him long. Luckily, she wasn't tied up as tightly as the man thought. Gillian managed to work the ropes loose. She wiggled her left hand free first, then the right. She immediately removed her blindfold. She stood looking around the empty room, while she rubbed her sore wrists. She whirled around, taking in the low slopping ceiling. Her prison had to be an attic of a house. The chair she’d been tied to being the only furniture in the room. The light shone through the only window on the north wall. She went over to it and looked out. The paint was peeling on the house and the vines were overgrown. She spotted the river in the distance through the oak trees and was able to confirm what she had already suspected. She’d been locked away in Creighton Manor. Zachary had been right after all. Cyrus had been behind all their turmoil. She had to escape. She flew to the door, shaking the doorknob in frustration when she found it was locked. What did she expect? The kidnapper would leave the door open for her. She went back to the window to see if there was another way out. There wasn’t a ledge only the steep rooftop. She looked down to the hard stones below. Jumping was out of the question. She would probably kill herself from the fall or at the least injure herself unable to run away.

She leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. What was she going to do? She was trapped, and she didn't think it was wise to wait for the man, who kidnapped her to return. She wondered who the man was. He didn’t sound like Cyrus Locke. *** Zachary had the saddlebags filled with money and now waited patiently at the barn for the person to show. Ellery would remain hidden until he gave the signal. Luckily, they didn't have to wait long. As the rider neared, Zachary immediately recognized him as the man who had attacked him on the dock, short dark hair and a scar on his right cheek, an added addition when Zachary had sliced him with his knife. He halted his mount in front of Zachary. "You have the money?" “Where is she?" Zachary shot back. "Safe, as long as you have what I’m here for.” "If you think I am just going to hand over the ransom without knowing where my wife is, you’re dumber than you look." The man snorted at that remark. He took out a slip of paper and handed it to Zachary. “This map leads me to Gillian?” He skimmed over it. “Now who is being stupid?” He pinned the kidnapper with a bloodcurdling glare. The man cleared his throat. "It’s a map to where you can find the instructions you’ll need to locate your wife. Now where is the rest of the money?” Zachary walked over to his horse and removed the satchel. He then sauntered over to the man and handed it to him. "That's part of what you wanted. If Gillian is where your note says, then you will get the rest of it." "I don't think you understood the instructions. I get all the money now or you don’t see your precious wife again." The man leaned over and sneered at Zachary, obviously thinking he had the upper hand, until he heard the cock of a gun. He didn’t need to turn around to know he was in trouble. Zachary’s grin slowly tipped the corners of his mouth. *** Gillian watched out the window waiting for someone to return. She knew no one had been in the house all day. It had been too quiet, no creaking stairs, no voices. All remained silent as a tomb. She shivered at the thought even though the attic felt like a furnace. Even with the window open, her dress clung to her damp body. If she didn’t have something to drink soon, she’d die of dehydration. The thought crossed her mind that maybe this was what her captors had planned for her. She sat on the floor again to rest, wondering if Zachary would even look for her or simply think she returned to her time. She heard a noise from down stairs and flew to her feet in a panic. Her eyes riveted to the locked door half expecting it to swing open. She needed a weapon and could have kicked herself for not thinking of it sooner. Her eyes landed on the chair. She grabbed it and ran behind the door to wait. It seemed an eternity until she heard the footsteps tread up the

stairs. Sweat dripped down her face in beaded droplets. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. The door opened, creaking on its hinges. She waited patiently, knowing she’d only have one chance, one moment of surprise. She went to swing, but caught sight of the long skirt sweeping across the floorboards. The woman turned and seemed to be just as startled as Gillian had been. She stepped back, her hand flying to her chest. "Violet?" Gillian lowered the chair, her mind reeling with confusion. Why was Violet here? A slow smile curved Violet’s lips but Gillian didn’t feel at ease, rather she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. "Hello, Gillian. I'm rather surprised to see you up and about. I gave Dane strict orders to tie you up." She came a little closer and Gillian noticed for the first time Violet held a gun in her hand. "What's going on, Violet? Where's Cyrus?” Violet’s chilling laugh bordered on insanity. "Wasn't I clever?" "Clever?” "Why yes. Cyrus and Josephine are out of town. They had to be in St. Louis to watch the blasted race. It was so perfect for my plan." "Do you mind clueing me in on this master plan of yours?” "Sure, I see no reason not to tell you. I'm not in a rush to be anywhere." With her left hand, Violet patted her reddish curls as if one would dare be out of place. Her blouse was pure white with an intricate lace collar; her skirt pressed, and her shoes polished to look brand new. She looked the picture of innocence, making it seem unbelievable she’d have a gun with the intent to use it. For a split second, Gillian thought about taking a chance and throwing herself at Violet, but the gleam in the woman’s eyes spoke of insanity. She had no doubt if Violet were provoked she’d blow her away without a qualm. Violet shook her head. "You see my little vixen you have messed up the scheme of things. I've wanted Zachary for so long. I have been very patient, too. For years, I had to hear him talk about this precious house, but I thought in time, he’d give up his silly dream of stealing it from Cyrus. Until then, I could wait. Then you showed up. Where did you come from, anyway? I've never seen you before. I would have known if Zachary were seeing anyone in town. Everyone knows to stay clear of what I want." "Listen...," Gillian tried to coax. "If you want Zachary—" "Shut up!" Violet screamed at her. Her eyes blazed widely with anger. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say. You ruined everything. Zachary was supposed to marry me, not you. He was supposed to love me." She nearly choked out the words. Gillian almost felt sorry for her. In the woman's own demented way, she felt she’d been wronged and maybe she had been. "Were you responsible for the attack at the dock, too?" "Of course," she replied with smugness. "But if you wanted Zachary for yourself, why would you try to kill him?” "Because I was angry with him." She shrugged, as if this explained everything. "I wanted him dead because he betrayed me. You don’t know how furious I was with you, when I heard you had saved him. I had Zachary followed and the second attempt to kill him was foiled, too. The stupid kid was supposed to shoot him, but got scared when Zachary shot back. Later, when I could think clearly, I was glad. I thought to myself, why should I be without what I want? I should simply take back what was mine. I tried to convince Zachary at your wedding reception that he had made a terrible mistake, but he wouldn’t listen to

reason. Luckily, I had a backup plan just in case. I hired those men ahead of time to kidnap, Zachary. I was going to hold him until he realized all his mistakes, but again you interfered. You weren't supposed to be taken. You ruined another plan.” She stomped her foot. “Then I realized my folly." Violet tapped her head. “I was going about this the wrong way. I needed to eliminate you. If you were gone, things would be simple. I could cradle the grieving Zachary, and in time, he would turn to me. I knew I couldn’t kidnap you by myself, but the man who attacked Zachary on the dock could, and once he did, I sent the ransom note to Zachary." Hearing this Gillian could have cried with joy, at least there was a chance for a rescue, but Violet’s next onslaught of words quickly extinguished all hope. "Truly your optimism is amusing. I asked for a lot of money. So much that Zachary would have to put this very house up for sale." She waved the gun around the room just to emphasize what she was implying. "We both know he would never do that. He loves this house more than anything. He would never give it up, and I bargained on it. Therefore, you see no ransom money, no rescue, and of course that means the kidnappers would have to kill you. That was their threat by the way." She shook her head. "Poor Dane, he didn’t know of my full plan. While he was to meet with Zachary for the ransom money, which we both know Zachary will not show, I would come here and take care of business. Of course, Dane would be blamed for the murder and if not, Cyrus would be under suspicion, being that your body would be found in this attic. I'd really hate to be the one to find you after days in this sweltering heat. You won't be so pretty then, will you?” She moved closer and Gillian took a step back. "Stop moving!" Violet bellowed. At that moment, Molly came bounding into the room letting out a loud bark. Violet jumped, turning away. Gillian grabbed the chair, but Violet heard her movements and swiveled back to face the threat. Gillian didn’t hesitate as she brought the chair down upon Violet's head, just as the woman pulled the trigger. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Zachary tied up the kidnapper, whose name was Dane Patterson. He threw him in the barn, while Ellery went into town to find the sheriff. Zachary rode his mount fast and hard. His only thought was to reach Creighton Manor and Gillian. Luckily, with a little convincing on Ellery and Zachary’s part, it didn't take much for Dane to spill his guts. They were shocked to learn Cyrus hadn’t been the one behind any of the attacks. It had been Violet the entire time. Sure they had known the woman possessed a temper, but kidnapping and murder? She had obviously lost her hold on reality. Zachary didn’t want to imagine what she had planned for Gillian. He rode his horse right up to the steps of Creighton Manor. He heard the gun go off, the sound splitting the night air. A cold knot in his stomach chilled him to the bone. He jumped from his mount and raced to the front door, kicking it open. He knew from what Dane had told him that Gillian had been tied up in the attic. Cold fear gripped him. He couldn’t be too late. He charged up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. The house stood in darkness and he saw the long skirts and knew a woman

bounded down them at a blinding speed. She collided into him and it took all his strength to hold onto her and not tumble down the stairs. “Let me go, you bastard!” “Gillian? Oh thank God. Gillian, it’s me, Zachary.” He took hold of her shoulders and shook her. It took a second before recognition registered. She let out a sob and threw her arms around his neck. “You came,” she said drawing in a ragged breath as another sob escaped her. He held her tight. His eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting and he could see Molly sitting at the top of the stairs, cocking her head and whining. “I heard a gun go off.” She pushed away from him. He waited for her to catch her breath so she could speak. “Violet tried to kill me.” He swallowed hard as he wiped a tear from her cheek. “Where is she?” “In the attic... I hit her with the chair.” “Stay here.” He took out his gun and cautiously moved toward the attic door. Slowly peeking in, he spotted Violet sprawled on the ground, broken pieces of wood scattered everywhere. Only the rise and fall of her chest told him she still lived. He hadn’t realized that Gillian had come up behind him until he heard her voice. “Is she …” “No.” Zachary pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back and trying to comfort her as she wept. It wasn't too much longer before Ellery, the sheriff and two deputies arrived. As soon as they could, they took the unconscious Violet away. Ellery walked over to Zachary. "I’ll stop by tomorrow.” He put a hand on Gillian’s shoulder. She nodded and gave him a shadow of a smile. Zachary led his mount toward home with Gillian leaning against him in silence. He had almost lost her. The realization of it nearly choked him. He tightened his hold around her as if he could keep her safe forever in his embrace. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR After he explained to Lotti what had happened, he checked on Tyler, who was sleeping soundly. Then he headed to Gillian’s room. She sat up in bed her legs tucked against her body and she rested her chin on her knees. She looked up when he entered, her gaze warily seeking his. "I thought you’d be sleeping. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.” "Will you sit with me awhile?” He placed the lamp on the nightstand before he sat down on the edge of the bed. He thought she just wanted the company, but then she spoke. Her words tore at his heart. "Violet told me you wouldn't come. She said she asked for so much money that you’d have to sell Creighton Manor." He knew what lay behind her words. She doubted he would protect her. "You didn't believe her, did you? You knew I would come for you." Silence.

He’d been so scared he’d lost her, but it forced him to face his true feelings. He loved her and he wanted her to be with him for always. To hell with the bet he made with her. He didn’t want her to leave. She belonged with him whether she believed it or not. He planned on proving it to her. As much as he wanted to proclaim his love, he thought it best to wait. Too much had happened for one night and he knew his stubborn wife would fight him on this. He caressed her cheek, rubbing his thumb gently over her chin. “Gillian.” She met his gaze. “Please believe me; I would never let anything happen to you. You’re my responsibility and I will always take care of you." "Oh. You’re responsible for me.” “Well… yes.” He didn’t know what she hinted at, but somehow he had said something to upset her. "Gillian, your safety is all that matters to me." He pulled her toward him, kissing the top on her head. "If something would have happened to you today, I would have wanted to die myself." She met his gaze as if she looked for the truth of his words. “Gillian—” "Would you hold me, like you did when we spent the night at the Bowyer Hotel?" "Sure." He put out the light and she moved over so he could slide beneath the covers. He held her against him, as he gently caressed her brow. He heard her sniffle and his hand paused. "Are you crying?" "Yes, but I don't know why." "Shush now. It will be all right. You had a bad scare that’s all, but you’re safe now." "I can’t take anymore.” “You’re a fighter, Gillian. You’ll be all right. I promise.” “Even a fighter gets tired. I’m so tired, Zachary. I want to go home." Her voice broke with a ragged breath. "I just want to go home," she repeated as he gently rocked her. He’d never met a woman like Gillian before, time travel aside. She had a spirited mind, fighting him when she thought him wrong. To see her so down, frightened him. He should have kept her safe. He failed and now she wanted to go back to her time. He sighed. “Your century must be wonderful with no crime.” She sniffled and chuckled at the same time. “Unfortunately, crime still exists, but I try to stay clear of questionable areas. I live a simple life, Zachary. I teach fourth grade. I may break up a few fights on the playground, but that’s all. This century doesn’t seem to want me here. I’ve had knives thrown at me.” “Sorry.” She squeezed his hand, but continued. “I’ve been shot at and kidnapped.” “Don’t forget forced to marry me,” he added. She sighed. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.” “Oh?” She looked at him. “I haven’t had a family for so long, Zachary. Thank you for sharing yours with me.” He kissed the top of head. “You’re welcome.” She snuggled close again. He couldn’t change what happened to her and he couldn’t send her home since time travel was beyond his capabilities. However, he could hold her and comfort her and hopefully in time, she’d forget about her life before she married him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Gillian chose the light blue dress with the pink sash. She debated about putting on her Nikes, but at the last moment, decided she’d wear the matching shoes. She tied her long hair behind her with a blue satin ribbon to match. Now ready to face the day, she went downstairs to the kitchen. Tyler and Zachary were already sitting at the table for breakfast. Zachary rose from his seat as she entered and pulled out a chair for her. "You look better." She smiled back reassuring him. "I do feel better. Thank you." She sat down and Zachary pushed in her chair. He then dished her out some eggs and poured her a cup of coffee before he sat down again. She took a sip of the dark liquid and closed her eyes, savoring the flavor. This was exactly what she needed this morning. When she opened her eyes, she noticed both Zachary and Tyler were staring at her. "What?” "Nothing," they both answered at the same time and looked away. Gillian put down her cup. "Listen." When she had their attention, she continued in a stern voice, "I'm fine, so you don't have to watch every move I make. Okay?" Tyler nodded. “Okay. Then may I be excused, Aunt Gillian, Uncle Zachary?” Gillian noticed he hadn’t finished his breakfast. The boy ate all day long. Him missing a meal concerned her. "Tyler, are you feeling all right?" He nodded, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. She wasn’t convinced. "Your stomach's not bothering you again, is it?" She couldn’t help but notice he looked peaked and he had dark shadows under his eyes. "Oh no. Uh, uh, not this morning. I feel much better. Thank you." Tyler looked to Zachary now. "Uncle Zachary, may I go outside and see if Molly is around? I didn't see her yesterday." "Yes, as long as you truly feel all right." “I feel fine.” “Then you may.” Tyler jumped out of his seat. "Thanks, Uncle Zachary." He pushed in his chair and ran out of the room, nearly knocking Ellery down in the process. "Whoa!" Ellery moved out of the way just in time. "Sorry, Mr. Livingston." Tyler barely managed to say before he was out of the house. Ellery removed his hat. "If I may say so, you do look much better this morning, Gillian.” "I feel much better, thank you." Ellery cleared his throat. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the sheriff does require you to make a statement of what happened at Creighton Manor." “Absolutely not,” Zachary took the liberty of answering for Gillian. “She's been through enough. What more needs to be said? She was kidnapped, held at Creighton Manor and... "Gillian reached for his hand, causing him to stop the onslaught of words to look at her. "I’ll go into town and make a statement. Really, I'm all right with this. I would rather have it all over with so I can put it behind me." ***

One of the sheriff’s deputies took the statement. His name was George Decon, a burly man with thick dark hair. He listened patiently and didn’t push when he asked for the information. “What will happen with Violet?” Gillian wondered. "That won’t be up to me mind you, but I do believe she will need special care. She regained consciousness, but... "He paused with a sigh. “The woman hasn’t said a word. She just stares and rocks back and forth. The Doc don’t rightly know if she will ever recover. He thought this might be the way she is dealing with the horror she's caused." "How awful," Gillian replied, actually feeling sorry for the woman. When they were finished with the paperwork, they headed out of the office. Zachary put on his hat as they started down the walkway. Gillian turned and glanced at him. "In her own way, Violet really did love you. Her whole life was about you." "I didn’t encourage her. I swear Gillian, I never promised her anything." "I'm not trying to blame you. I was... you know, I don't know what I'm trying to say. What a shame that Violet didn’t have anything else to occupy her mind other than the obsession of having you." Zachary cleared his throat and she looked at him. She realized he thought she spoke of his obsession of Creighton Manor. Perhaps unconsciously she had. “Trust me Gillian, I know how an obsession can blind a person.” “Zachary, I didn’t—” “No, you should and know this: I won’t make the same mistake again. Come on, let's go home." CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX When they arrived back at the house, Dora waited for them at the door, wringing her hands. "Something is terribly wrong with Tyler. I've tried everything. He's been complaining about his stomach hurting so bad he can't stand it. In the last hour, he’s thrown up twice." “I thought he looked like he didn’t feel well this morning,” Gillian said as she followed Zachary and Dora up to Tyler’s room. The little boy lay on his bed curled up in a fetal position, moaning and clutching his side. When Zachary sat down on the edge of the bed, Tyler opened his eyes. "Uncle Zachary, I hurt something awful." “So I've heard. Let me take a look." Zachary rolled him over onto his back. "I'm going to push on a few spots. It might be a little uncomfortable, but I need to know where the pain is coming from." Tyler nodded. Zachary put pressure on the right lower part of the abdomen and Tyler shuddered as he drew in a sharp breath. “That hurts," he sobbed, his eyes darkening with pain. “That hurts so bad.” "I'm sorry Tyler. I won't do that again." Zachary rolled him back onto his left side and walked out of the room. Gillian turned to follow, but stopped when she heard Molly barking outside. She went over to the window and parted the curtains. She couldn't imagine what aggravated her. She

couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. She would have to go downstairs in a moment and call her inside. She stepped out into the hall to find Zachary, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and his hands clenched into a fist. Fear raced through her. Something was dreadfully wrong. "What do you think Tyler has?" Zachary’s broad shoulders heaved as he took a deep breath and stood straight to face her. "I've seen this before, during the war. This kid in my unit… he had fought four battles without a scratch, and then he ended up with this infection.” “What infection? What are you talking about?” His eyes alone betrayed the severity of the problem. “He has an infection of the vermiform process. It's in the lower part of the abdomen,” he explained. “He has all the symptoms. The pain on the right side when I apply pressure and the vomiting, it all adds up. It will eventually rupture and spread its poison." Gillian thought for a moment. The symptoms sounded familiar. Then she knew. "Are you trying to say he needs to have his appendix taken out? What are we waiting for? He'll need an operation." Zachary put his hands on her shoulders. She immediately stopped her rambling and looked at him. "There's no need for the doctor,” he told her. “There's nothing they can do. If I'm right, Tyler will die." "Are you crazy? Appendicitis is treatable. All you have to do is remove the infected appendix." Zachary frowned. "Impossible. A doctor would have to cut him open. It's never been done.” "But... " Then it dawned on her what he was trying to say to her. Obviously, in 1870, no one had been operated on to remove an appendix. “Oh, God no! This can't be happening. There has to be someone who can help." Gillian heard Molly barking again. “I'm telling you, there isn't. I take it... what did you call it... appendicitis is treatable in your time?” Molly's barking became louder, more insistent. "Yes, in almost all cases there are no complications after they remove the infected appendix." Zachary rubbed his face with his hands. "What is wrong with that blasted dog? Her infernal barking is driving me mad." "Molly!" Gillian eyes grew wide. "Molly," she repeated. "Come on. You have to bring Tyler outside." "Outside? Why?" "It's Molly. She's calling us. I know it. She always comes when she wants me to go somewhere. She knows! She knows, Zachary. I don’t know how or why, but I'd bet my life, she'll lead us to someone who will be able to help Tyler." They didn't waste any more time. Gillian ran to her room and grabbed her purse. She met Zachary in the hall. He had Tyler in his arms. Dora stood there, too, wringing her hands. “What should I tell Lotti when she comes calling? Surely she will worry.” "Tell Lotti that Gillian knows someone. I’m not sure when we'll be back, but we’ll do all we can to return. Do you understand?"

Dora’s brow furrowed in confusion, but she nodded. Gillian went down the stairs ahead of Zachary and Tyler to open the door. Molly stood on the porch. She barked then took off running. Gillian ran after her, Zachary close behind. Molly led them to the back of the house where Tyler loved to play. Only where the yard should have been there was something else. Gillian stopped dead in her tracks and Zachary bumped into her. "Hell and damnation!" Zachary exclaimed in astonishment, blood siphoning from his face. The backyard had vanished and a hazy portal stood in its place. Zachary’s gaze riveted to Gillian. “Everything you’ve told me is true, isn’t it?” “Yes.” She placed a sympathetic hand on his, knowing he felt overwhelmed. Molly jumped through the vortex and stood on the other side, waiting. She let out a bark again, as if to tell them to hurry. Gillian looked back at Zachary. "Come on. You’re about to see my world." She walked through the fog-like substance. Zachary licked his lips and he looked like he was fighting the urge to bolt and run. “Zachary,” Gillian called to him. Their eyes met and held. “Trust me. Everything will be all right.” The tension drained from his face and he took the steps that separated them. He looked back as the door through time evaporated into nothing. Tyler moaned. "Follow me." Gillian waved her hand. "Molly led us to the right place. I know someone here, who can help Tyler.” "I’ve never seen a building such as this.” Zachary squinted as his gaze traveled skyward. “It is so tall and so many windows. It makes me dizzy to look all the way up. What is this place?” "This is Hoag hospital," she answered. Gillian wondered what they should do with Molly. She had a hunch the hospital wouldn’t allow a dog inside. Then she realized that Molly wasn’t with them anymore. She had already disappeared. “Come on.” Gillian tugged on Zachary’s arm. Zachary followed in a daze. There was so much to take in at once. He couldn’t have imagined this place in his wildest dreams. When they reached the entrance to the hospital, his eyes widened in amazement as the doors opened without the aid of a doorman. It was like magic. Gillian didn’t hesitate to enter, so he didn’t either. He glanced over his shoulder as the doors closed again. When he turned around, his eyes met a room full of people. They stared at him as if they knew he didn’t belong. How right they were. Gillian conversed with a plump dark-skin woman who didn’t seem to have a pleasant bone in her body. "We have an emergency," Gillian told her. "If you'll just page for—" Tyler groaned. The woman glanced over Gillian’s shoulder, her gaze landing on Tyler’s deathly pale face. The woman’s expression changed from annoyance to concern as she picked up some type of object and started talking into it. This was all too much for Zachary to comprehend right now. His concerns for Tyler were enough, but add time traveling; doors opening with no help; and devices he couldn’t readily identify … his head felt like it was spinning. He needed to sit down. He fell into an empty chair and took a deep breath.

Gillian paced back and forth, but when a tall, sandy-haired man came bursting through the doors, she stopped in her tracks. Zachary didn’t know who ran to the other first, but Gillian and the sandy-haired man embraced. Zachary narrowed his eyes as jealousy hit him full force, but he quickly squelched it. Gillian thought this man could save Tyler. "Where have you been Gillian?" Jerry blurted out. "It's been two days since anyone’s heard from you. You have Samantha thinking you’ve been kidnapped. Geeze, I thought you’d been kidnapped." His gaze travelled down the length of her and he frowned. “What’s with the long skirt and blouse with the high collar? Have you been raiding somebody's attic?" Gillian didn’t answer his question. "Only two days.” She shook her head. “Amazing. Listen, I'll explain everything later, but right now there's an emergency. It's my... " She stopped in midsentence not wanting to spring her marriage on him. It would only ensure questions she couldn’t readily explain and they didn’t have time. "It's my friend's nephew." She took Jerry's hand and led him over to Zachary and Tyler. Jerry gave Zachary a once over before his attention lingered on Tyler. He looked deathly pale and limp. "What happened?" "We think it's his appendix," Gillian answered. "Pain in the right lower abdomen?" Jerry asked as he started taking Tyler's pulse. "Yes." "Vomiting?" Jerry questioned. "Yes," Gillian answered. Jerry felt Tyler's midsection and applied pressure on the right side, making Tyler groan. "We have to get him to surgery, now!" Jerry scooped the child into his arms and yelled for the receptionist to call for the surgery room to be ready. Before going through the doors, he stopped and looked back to Gillian and Zachary. "I'll take it from here. Stay where you are and I'll send someone down to have you fill out the paper work. Gillian, please give Samantha a call, so she can stop worrying about you." Then he was gone. Zachary ran his fingers through his hair and stared at the door. He looked like he debated about running after Jerry. Gillian didn’t blame him. He just let a stranger take his nephew away. She took the seat next to him and took his hand. He laced his fingers through hers. "That was Jerry?" he finally asked, even though Gillian had a hunch he already knew the answer. "Yes. Jerry is a brilliant doctor. He'll do all he can to save Tyler." "You'd trust him with your life?” He looked at her, fear stark and vivid in the blue of his eyes. "Absolutely," she answered, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. Zachary took a deep breath and nodded. *** The nurses prepped Tyler for surgery, while Jerry washed up for the procedure. Goose flesh rippled up his spine and nervous sweat dampened his brow. He had done countless surgeries of this nature and there was no reason to feel this one would be complicated, and yet fear gripped him.

“Are you all right, Dr. Avery?” At the sound of the nurse’s voice, his gaze riveted to her. He blinked and his thoughts cleared. He had to operate. Time was running out. “I’m fine. Let’s move.” *** Zachary filled out the papers required to admit Tyler into the hospital, along with the consent to operate. He marveled over the pen, and was reluctant to give it back to the receptionist. Gillian left a message on Samantha's voicemail to let her know where she was and that she was all right. Hours had gone by and still there was no word about Tyler. Zachary wandered over to the contraption on the counter making strange gurgling noises. He watched it as the dark liquid dripped into a glass container. The smell of coffee hit his nostrils. “Hell and damnation.” He leaned closer. Then he looked at Gillian. "It’s making coffee all by itself." An elderly woman overheard him and looked up from her knitting. She lowered her glasses and raised an eyebrow. Gillian chuckled and hurried over to him. "I know," she whispered. "I never thought of it as being anything special, but living in the nineteenth century has made me appreciate the inventions of my time.” Just then, the Mr. Coffee had finished brewing. "Do you want a cup?" Gillian pulled the pot out and was about to pour the freshly brewed coffee into a Styrofoam cup, but Zachary laid a hand on hers, stilling her actions. She looked at him and noticed his gaze rested behind her. She turned to see Jerry had entered the room. She put the coffeepot down. Jerry spotted them and approached his face unreadable. Gillian clasped Zachary’s hand as they waited for him to tell them the news. “The operation went well, and he’s doing fine. He's in the recovery room now." He looked at Gillian then to Zachary. "Can I ask you something?" He ran his fingers through his hair. "The kid says his name is Tyler Avery." Gillian gasped and looked to Zachary for confirmation. "Tyler's last name is Avery?" "Well... yes." He wasn’t quite sure why this made such a difference to everyone. “Avery,” Gillian whispered more to herself than to anyone else. “I had assumed his last name was Creighton. I should have known it wasn’t. Your sister was married and of course she would have had a different last name.” Jerry chuckled, drawing their attention. “Isn’t it strange that Tyler would have the same last name as I do.” He scratched his head. “Let me see if I can remember the family tree. I believe I had a great-great, there possibly could be another great there, named Tyler Avery." Zachary raised his eyebrows as he looked at Gillian again. "That would mean..." She nodded as she gave his hand a quick squeeze. Gillian had thought she’d been sent back in time to save him. Perhaps she was supposed to save Tyler. Zachary’s gaze shifted to Jerry… Dr. Jerry Avery. Surely this meant he was a relative. He claimed he had a great-great grandfather with the name. If Tyler hadn’t survived, then would Jerry have ceased to exist?

Gillian stared at Jerry with a glint of wonder in her eyes. “That’s why Tyler had looked so familiar to me. The expressions, the smile, I was seeing a version of what Jerry must have looked like as a child.” With Gillian’s strange statement, it looked like Jerry wanted to question them further, but Samantha arrived. She bounded over to them. "Where have you been?" She still sounded panicked even though she’d spoken briefly to Gillian on the phone an hour ago. "You just up and left me at the Queen Mary. I thought the employees there were holding you hostage. I even went to the police station to fill out a missing person’s report." “You didn’t.” Gillian looked horrified. “They said I had to wait. You hadn’t been missing long enough.” Samantha finally took a breath and her eyes rested on Zachary. Her gaze swept over his attire and then she looked at Gillian with a frown. “What’s with the Little House on the Prairie getups?” Before Gillian could answer, Samantha grabbed Gillian's left hand. "What's this? Are you married?" Her brown eyes widened as she fingered the gold band that was securely wrapped around her ring finger. Her attention flew to him again. This time she assessed him from head to toe. Jerry frowned, his eyes narrowing. Gillian’s face flushed red. She pulled her hand away. Zachary knew this hadn’t been the way she wanted to tell her friends. Zachary took pity and spoke up. "Yes, we’re married.” He lifted his hands, palm up with a shrug. “I know this all seems sudden, and I hope in time we will be able to explain everything to you.” He gave them a second to absorb the shocking information. “Let me properly introduce myself. I'm Zachary Creighton." He extended his hand. Samantha recovered first and took Zachary’s hand in a firm grip. She even managed a tiny smile. "Sorry, we seem stunned over this, but... " Her gaze wavered to Gillian as she let go of Zachary’s hand. Jerry cleared his throat. "I suppose congratulations are in order." He nearly choked on the words. It was obvious that he couldn't believe Gillian had married so quickly after they had called off their own wedding. "Thank you." Zachary shook Jerry's hand, knowing how difficult the gesture had been for him. Jerry let his hand drop. "If you’re ready, I'll take you to see, Tyler." "Who's Tyler?" Samantha asked. “Did I miss something?” Tyler looked so small in the hospital bed with the IV hooked to him and the monitors stationed behind him beeping. Zachary looked over to Gillian for confirmation that this was a normal procedure even though Jerry had explained it all to them. She leaned close and whispered, "All this is necessary. Just remember everything in here is to help him to get better.” Zachary nodded and went over to his nephew, taking the boy’s small hand in his. Tyler turned his head slowly and opened his eyes. "Uncle Zachary?" "It's me. How are you feeling?" "Tired." His voice was a hoarse whisper. "You get some rest then. We'll be here waiting for you, when you wake up." Tyler nodded his head before he closed his eyes again. Jerry checked the tubes and the monitor before he looked at Zachary. "There's another thing I needed to ask you. On the forms you filled out for Tyler, you said he was born in

1864." Jerry chuckled. "That would make Tyler quite an old man." Jerry glanced at Gillian then to Zachary. “What are you two hiding? I know it’s more than your hasty marriage and strange attire. What’s going on?” Gillian cleared her throat. "We... "She looked at Zachary first and he nodded his silent agreement before she looked back to Jerry and Samantha."We will explain everything to you, but you’ll have to promise us that you will keep an open mind." “Sure.” Samantha shrugged. “This I have to hear.” "I had actually finished my shift before I operated on Tyler," Jerry informed them. "Tyler will probably sleep for a few hours. We can go downstairs to the cafeteria. I'll leave instructions with the nurse to page me the minute Tyler is awake.” CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN After they bought their drinks, they sat down at a table in the back. Gillian picked the spot on purpose. She didn’t want anyone overhearing the strange tale she was about to unfold. Zachary and Gillian sat on one side of the booth, Samantha, and Jerry on the other. Zachary searched for Gillian's hand under the table, clasping it tightly. "I'm not sure where to start." Gillian smiled hesitantly. "It's going to sound like we're completely crazy, but what I'm about to tell you is the absolute truth." She took a hasty sip of her coffee, which was a mistake. It was too hot and she burned her tongue. She placed the cup down and looked into the eyes of her best friends. "I've been with Zachary for weeks now." Samantha snorted. "You've been gone barely two days." "I know, you said as much. I can't explain why time is different, but—" "What are you talking about? Time?" Jerry asked. "Listen." Zachary leaned forward, lowering his voice. "She's trying to tell you, if you'd give her a chance." “Fine.” Jerry lifted his hand, gesturing to Gillian to continue. "Samantha, remember the dog we spotted on our way to the Queen Mary?” "Yes, I remember. What about it?" "Somehow this dog is special in a way you couldn’t even imagine. She is responsible for me being sent back in time." "What?" Samantha and Jerry said simultaneously with almost the same pitch of disbelief ringing in their voices. Gillian continued, ignoring the fact that they stared at her as if she had lost her mind. "Let me start at the beginning." "Why don't you do that?" Samantha folded her hands on the table. "After I left you, Samantha, the dog appeared at our stateroom. I tried to run away, but something happened. Anyway, the next thing I knew, I wasn’t on the Queen Mary anymore. I was in Zachary's room aboard the Ida Belle." "The Ida Belle?" Samantha questioned. "How could you be aboard the Queen Mary one minute then on some other ship the next?" "Honestly, I don’t know. Remember the receptionists on the Queen Mary told us our room was decorated with artifacts from the Ida Belle. Maybe there’s a connection somehow." Samantha’s eyebrows knitted together. “I was in the room, too. I didn’t get swept back in time.”

"Samantha, I don’t have all the answers. I’m still trying to make sense of it. All I can do is tell you what I know.” Samantha nodded. “Go on then. You woke up aboard the Ida Belle.” “Yes. Well of course, Zachary wasn’t expecting company, and at this point I had no idea I’d traveled back in time. So, when Zachary jumped out of bed like a wild animal—" "Pardon me." Zachary stopped her. "Wild animal? I believe you better rephrase that." "Okay." She smiled before she continued. "Zachary jumped out of bed, believing his life was in danger. I would have run out of the room, but I didn't have the key to get out. So, I reacted—" "She attacked me.” Zachary took over. “Never was I so surprised that a little slip of a woman could throw me over her shoulder. But somehow, she managed to do just that." Samantha chuckled. "You actually threw him over your shoulder?" She eyed Zachary and raised a brow. “He’s a big sturdy guy. I’m impressed.” "Yes. I'll tell you the self-defense class we took last summer came in handy more times than not." "Really. What else worked?" Samantha leaned forward to hear more. Jerry harrumphed. "Let's talk about the defense class later, shall we?" "Sorry." Samantha leaned back in her seat, rolling her eyes at Jerry. Gillian cleared her throat. "Where were we? Oh, yes. Because of all the noise we created, other people aboard the Ida Belle became concerned. Before I knew it, they had apprehended Zachary and held a gun to his head. Everyone assumed he’d taken advantage of me." "Well, you weren’t wearing any clothes. What were people supposed to think?" Zachary added. "What happen to your clothes?" Jerry’s intense scowl pinned Gillian down. She shook her head. "He's exaggerating. I was wearing my black sweat suit.” She looked at Samantha. “You know the designer one with the lace that I paid a fortune for.” “Oh yes, I know the one. Cute.” Jerry sat back and crossed his arms against his chest. His mouth flattened into a fine line as he glared at Zachary. Gillian cleared her throat. “By nineteen century standards, I might as well have been naked the way everyone stared at me." Zachary picked up the story again. "So you can well imagine why they would want me to marry her. Her reputation was at stake, as well as mine. I couldn't very well let people think I took advantage of a woman." “So you married her?" Jerry lifted his brows. "Well, of course," Zachary said. “It was the gentlemanly thing to do. Wouldn’t you protect a woman’s reputation?” Jerry squirmed. “I wouldn’t be in a situation that called for it.” “Boys.” Samantha placed a hand on Jerry’s forearm. “We can have a pissing contest later. Let Gillian finish.” Gillian gave Samantha a quick smile. She knew this had to be difficult for Jerry to hear. Put aside the time travel aspects, she had married another man, a stranger when she had refused to marry him. She took another sip of her coffee thankful it had cooled down. She had to finish the story. “When I was getting ready for the ceremony, I finally figured out things weren’t right. I

wasn’t in California or aboard the Queen Mary. However, the worse of it was that I was stranded in another century. I had no choice for the moment but to do what I was told. “Before we left the ship, I did try one desperate attempt to see if I could be transported back. I lay back down on the floor and closed my eyes. I hoped when I opened my eyes again, I would be home." "So that was why you did that." Zachary finally understood her odd behavior. "I thought I had married someone who didn’t have her wits about her." "Thanks a lot." Gillian bit her lip to stifle a grin. He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze before she returned to the story. "So I find myself married, and Zachary has guardianship over his nephew. I had no idea by the way, that Tyler was related to you, Jerry. I never thought to ask what Tyler's last name was, but I can tell you the minute I saw the boy, I thought, he looked oddly familiar. I just couldn't put my finger on why. That is, until now. Tyler looks a lot like you, Jerry or rather... you look a lot like Tyler. It's still a little confusing." "Indeed,” Jerry said. “You know this story is most entertaining, but what is the point here? How did you manage to find your way back?" "I told you how. It was the dog. By the way, her name is Molly." "The dog told you her name?" Jerry asked sarcastically. "Don't be rude, Jerry. Of course, she doesn’t talk. She's a dog for heaven’s sake. She showed up one day at Zachary's home, immediately adopting them. Tyler is the one who named her." "She would show up and stay for days, and then she would disappear for a while," Zachary added. Gillian took over, again. "I think Molly is somehow a guardian over them. She appeared to me on the Queen Mary and brought me back in time. She led me to Zachary when he was in trouble and she led us to the portal, or whatever it was that brought us here. I believe I was sent back to save Tyler by bringing him to you, Jerry." She held his gaze. "Do you realize, if Tyler had died, you most likely wouldn’t exist?" All eyes turned to him as they thought of this possibility. "So," Jerry cleared his throat, "let's say this little story of yours is true. What you're telling me is that I just operated on my many times over great-grandfather, only he's still six years old?" "Yes," Gillian answered with a nod. Jerry ran his hand through his hair. “I did experience a strange sensation when I scrubbed up for surgery … an urgency to hurry.” He shook his head. “This is a lot to swallow.” “Tell me about it,” Gillian said. "Well…" Samantha smiled and looked at Zachary. "How do you like the twenty first century so far?" CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT Later in the day, Tyler was alert enough to eat some Jell-O. He marveled over his new surroundings, adjusting with little difficulty as if traveling through time was something he did every day. Gillian and Zachary stayed with him until he fell asleep.

Samantha dropped Gillian and Zachary off at the Queen Mary’s parking lot, so she could retrieve her car before someone decided to have it towed away. From there, they drove to Gillian's apartment. When they pulled into the parking space, Zachary looked at Gillian. He knew he wore a goofy grin, but he couldn’t help it. "Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined this horseless carriage. What did you call this machine?" He ran his hand smoothly over the interior of the automobile. "It's an SUV." Gillian smiled and opened her door. "Come on, let's go inside." She motioned with her thumb toward her apartment. He was reluctant to leave the amazing machine, but with a sigh, he opened the car door and followed her. She unlocked the door to her apartment and flipped on a switch that made the room immediately become bright as day. "Unbelievable!" Zachary whistled in wonderment as he entered the apartment closing the door behind him. "How does it work?" He looked around the room in search of something to explain the phenomenon. Gillian had already moved into the kitchen but came back into the living room. "How does what work?" "Is it this little knob?" He was at the light switch. He flipped it on and off to see if he could figure out how the room became illuminated. Gillian went over to him and put her hand on his. "It’s called electricity. I pay my electric bill and the city supplies the energy to my home." "I guess, I sound pretty ignorant to you, but I can't help feeling awed over all I'm seeing." "You sound curious. It's kind of cute." She playfully tweaked his nose. "Yeah?" he said, trying to pull her into his arms but she quickly wiggled free and went back into the kitchen. "Are you hungry?" "Famished." He plopped himself down on the sofa. His eyes rested on the first item in front of him. "What does this box do?" Again, Gillian walked back into the living room. "That is a television." She went over and turned it on. The screen came alive. “Hmm, the news. Let’s not scare you the first day you’re here.” He watched her point a gadget at the box. She pushed a button and the picture changed again. “This should be harmless enough. This is an I Love Lucy episode.” “Hell and damnation!" He whistled. "How do the people get inside the box?" He jumped to his feet and examined the back of the Television set. "There isn’t anyone inside the TV.” She chuckled. “This was something filmed a long time ago. I pay for a satellite service and ta da… ” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Uh… forget it." She turned off the set. “Why don't you help me in the kitchen?” Zachary scratched his head as he stared at the strange box and tried to figure it out. “Zachary?” she called to him from the other room. “I’m right behind you.” After dinner, Gillian introduced him to a modern bathroom. She showed him how to turn on and off all the gadgets, gave him a towel, washrag and soap along with some clean clothes to change into once he was done. He was sure he wore a silly grin on his face as he shut the door. He was ready to experience the hot running water she’d told him about.

Forty-five minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom clothed in twenty-first century pajamas. The whole time Zachary was putting on his new nightclothes, he wondered just whose clothes he wore. A part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know. Luckily, Gillian chose to volunteer the information. "You look pretty snazzy in my father's PJ's." "Your father's?" He looked down at his attire. "I still have a few boxes of his things. I just never got around to getting rid of them." "Oh." He sighed with relief. He couldn't help but feel relieved the clothes didn’t belong to Jerry Avery. "Make yourself comfortable. I think I’d like a shower, too." Before she closed the door to the bathroom, she turned and looked at Zachary. "By the way, how did you like having warm water?" "It was like pure heaven," he answered. “Told you.” She smiled and closed the door. When Gillian finished her toiletry, she dressed and went out into the living room. She was still towel drying her hair when her gaze fell upon Zachary sprawled out on the couch fast asleep. A new emotion tugged at her heart. He looked so sweet, so innocent lying there. She went into the spare bedroom and retrieved a blanket to cover him. With him all tucked in for the night, she leaned down and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "Good-night, Zachary Creighton. Be prepared. It’s my turn to take care of you." CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE Gillian set her alarm for seven since they wanted to head to the hospital by ten. She listened to the news as she dressed. The weatherman predicted the temperatures would be somewhere in the 90’s. She decided on her Keith Urban T-shirt, jean shorts and flip-flops. She wasn't sure what Zachary should wear since she didn’t exactly have a closet full of men's clothing. She dug through her dad's things last night and found the pajamas, but as for the other clothes... Well, her dad may have been slim and trim but he didn’t exactly buy clothes that were the height of fashion. There were a couple of outdated suits and a few sweaters, but not much else. She would have to make sure they went shopping later. Zachary hadn’t risen yet. Her lips curved into a smile at the vision he portrayed. He lay sprawled on the couch with his arm hanging off the side. His hair stuck up on end and he needed to shave, and yet the scruffy look definitely worked for him. She sighed. How could he look dangerous and sexy in her father’s pajamas? She’d let him sleep a little while longer and headed for the kitchen to start the coffee. She took out the carton of eggs from the refrigerator and hash browns from the freezer. She went to work. *** Zachary awoke to the sensation of something delicious tantalizing his senses. "That smells wonderful," Zachary stood and stumbled into the kitchen. “Coffee’s ready.” She nodded toward the pot as she flipped the eggs in the frying pan.

Thank goodness, Gillian focused her attention elsewhere. Zachary’s eyes nearly fell out of their sockets when he got a look at what Gillian wore, or rather didn’t wear. His gaze slid rapidly down her shapely legs and back up again. Never had he seen a woman show so much skin other than when a man and a woman had sex. He cleared his throat with a cough behind his hand. He had better change his train of thought before he got himself into trouble. He headed for the coffee pot. “Eggs are on the menu. I hope you don’t mind.” "That sounds wonderful." He rubbed his hand over his chin feeling the course roughness. "You don't happen to have something available for me to use on these whiskers?" "I do.” She dished out the breakfast onto two plates. “Breakfast first.” She brought the plates over to the table. “Grab me a cup of coffee, too, will you.” “Sure.” They sat across from each other in her cheery kitchen of yellow with white. Flowered curtains adorned the window over the sink and pictures of decorative teapots adorned the walls. “You have a nice place, Gillian.” “Thank you.” “I’m just realizing how much you gave up when you were thrust into my time.” “It was an adjustment.” “You’re being modest.” He realized he hadn’t understood her fully until now. She came from a world of wonders and he could never hope to give her what she had here. “Why the long face, cowboy? Is the breakfast not to your liking?” He gave her a lopsided grin. “No it’s perfect.” She was perfect. After the dishes were washed she turned toward him and smiled. “Follow me." “Follow you?” “You want to shave don’t you?” “Uh… yeah.” He followed her to the bathroom. She opened the cabinet door below the sink. "It's not the best, but it will work," she said as she pulled out the disposable razor. Zachary took the item from her turning it over in his hand. "Now what am I suppose to do with this? Don’t you have a straight blade?" “No.” She chuckled. “I’ll show you how this works. Trust me, you’ll like it better than a straight blade.” Gillian opened the medicine cabinet, pulled out shaving cream, and then went into the hall to retrieve a towel. She then lowered the lid on the commode. "Take a seat and I'll take care of you." She waved her hand to where she wanted him to sit as if she offered him the throne. It was a little too intimate. He was already having a difficult time keeping his hands to himself. However, instead of warning her that this wasn’t a good idea, he took a seat. She put the towel around his shoulder before she lathered his chin with a generous amount of cream. “Turn toward the bathtub and lean against me.” When he didn’t move at first, she motioned with her hand. He did as she asked. He tried not to think of his head resting on her breasts as if they were two soft fluffy pillows. Pillows he’d like to get his hands on. He closed his eyes. Her hand glided over his skin, making every nerve ending come alive. Occasionally she rinsed the razor under the faucet and then she immediately returned to torture him all over again. “Turn around,” she ordered.

She shaved his upper lip causing his will power to slip more. His gaze wandered to her face then to her shoulders and finally landing on her breasts that were inches from his mouth. Sure she wore a T-shirt covering the small mounds, but it didn’t stop his mind from imagining the way they had felt when he buried himself in their softness. He swallowed. He just couldn't resist at least touching her, anywhere she might allow. He put his hands on her waist. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, but said nothing. She shaved his chin. When she finished there, she gently caressed the small cleft. "My father loved to tell me stories and one was about why people have dimples and small little dents in their chins." "Really? What was this story?" He swallowed the lump in his throat. "On the day you were born, an angel came down from heaven and bestowed a kiss upon you." He wanted desperately to kiss her, but that would lead to more and they shouldn’t go there again. He had to go back to his time and she belonged here. Only his body didn’t seem to care for his logic. His blood raced, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. He moved his hand slightly down her bare thigh, her flesh felt smooth and warm against the palm of his hand. Gillian felt the warm rough texture of his hands on her skin. His nearness always aroused the sense of forbidden desire, strong and unrelenting. She bit her lower lip trying not to be distracted, but failing miserably. She took the towel draped around his shoulders and wiped away the excess shaving cream from his face. "All done." Her voice cracked. He didn’t seem to notice. He met her gaze as he pulled her closer. She stood inches from his smooth face, their lips a breath away. "Thank you." His voice was a hoarse whisper. Neither one moved as if time decided to take a vacation and all activity ceased to exist. Gillian’s senses screamed for him to touch her, but for some reason he held back as if he wanted her to make the first move. Her heart shuddered and she blithely ignored the voice that said no. She leaned down, having every intentions of devouring his mouth, but the ring of the phone sounded off like a buzzer, making them both jump. Gillian stepped away from the warmth of his embrace. “I should answer that.” She motioned with her thumb over her shoulder as she backed up. She bumped into the door jam. “It might be the hospital.” “Sure.” He nodded. "Hello," Gillian answered as she picked up her portable phone in the living room. "It's me," Samantha's voice said through the receiver. "Hi Samantha." Gillian turned to see Zachary holding his clothes and going into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Gillian wished she could go back to the moment before and … "Gillian, are you there?" Samantha repeated for the third time. "I'm here," she finally answered. "I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?" Samantha teased. "No, no, of course not," she answered a little too hastily, sounding guilty even to her own ears. "I was just wondering if your cowboy and his nephew might need a few clothes." Just then, Zachary emerged from the bedroom wearing his black pants, boots, white cotton shirt and vest, looking like he stepped out of an old western movie.

"I was just thinking about that this morning. They'll need more than the one outfit. Why don't you meet me at the hospital? We’d liked to check on Tyler first. While Zachary is visiting, we can pick up a few things." "Sounds like a plan. Meet you there about ten?" “Great.” "See you then. Bye." Samantha hung up the phone and Gillian did the same. "That was Samantha." Gillian turned to face Zachary. "You can actually hear her voice on that machine?" He pointed toward the phone. His amazement shone on his face. "Yes. You can call someone from all over the world and have them sound like they’re standing right next to you." "Amazing." Zachary shook his head. CHAPTER THIRTY Tyler was awake when Zachary and Gillian arrived. He had already made friends with the little boy who was in the bed next to him. As soon as Samantha arrived, Gillian quickly ushered her out, assuring Zachary she wouldn't be more than a couple of hours. Tyler fell asleep after he ate lunch. Zachary turned on the TV to pass the time. He turned his head to look at the nurse when she came in to check on Tyler. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a soap opera follower.” The nurse looked at him and smiled. “Soap opera?” “What you’re watching.” She nodded toward the TV. Zachary frowned. He’d been watching the program for twenty minutes. There’d been no singing, but he’d have to say there’d been plenty of tragedy like a good opera would have. Jerry walked in a moment later to check on Tyler. He looked surprised to see Zachary sitting there by himself. They acknowledged each other with a quick handshake before Jerry concentrated on the chart he had in his hand. "Your nephew is doing fine. He can probably go home... uh... leave the hospital tomorrow." "Really? That soon after surgery?" "It doesn't take long to recover. Tyler is young. He'll bounce back sooner than an adult." They both were silent now as they eyed each other. Zachary couldn't help but wonder what Gillian had found so appealing about this man. She had at one time considered marrying him after all. She must have felt something for him. "This must all seem odd to you, Jerry. I appreciate the patience." "Odd? You have no idea. Traveling in time is just the tip of the iceberg. You showed up married to the woman I had thought would be my wife." "I believe Gillian told me you two broke it off," Zachary gently stated. He nodded. "You're right on that point, but I still care about Gillian; I don't want to see her hurt. I've been thinking about your story of time travel. If Tyler will one day, be my a few times over great-grandfather, he will have to go back to his own time to be that won't he? Since, I'm still living and breathing, I can only assume Tyler’s going back is a certainty. But what about you, will you return also?"

“What’s your point?” "What do you think Gillian will do?" Jerry put it out there, making Zachary flinch as the truth of the matter washed over him. Yes, she was married to him, but it wasn’t a conventional marriage in any sense of the word, time travel excluded. "She’s spoken to you about this?" Zachary inquired. "No, but why would she want to go back to 1870? She grew up with all the luxuries the twenty-first century has to offer. Besides why would you care if she stayed or not? You haven't known her very long, and you said it yourself that you were forced to marry her. This could be your way out. You could go back home and find another woman to marry." "You think you have it all figured out, don't you?" Zachary had lowered his voice barely controlling his anger. "But let me be the first to inform you that you don't. I've come to care for Gillian deeply. I have never forced her to do anything she didn’t want to do, and I will not be starting now. If she decides to stay here when it's time for Tyler and me to go, I will respect her wishes. However, until that day, let's get one thing straight: I am Gillian's husband. We may not have the ideal marriage arrangement, but I take my vows very seriously." If this man wanted to hash this out, then he was more than willing. His hands involuntarily balled at his sides as he mentally prepared himself for the next onslaught of accusations. "Good," Jerry answered surprising Zachary into silence. Then it dawned on him what Jerry had been doing. “Was this a test?” “I guess in a way it was. I couldn’t help but wonder if your marriage was the real deal. You said you were forced to marry, but you both seem relaxed with each other.” Sometimes he would agree, but other times he wasn’t so sure. His brows drew together as he wondered what Jerry saw that he didn’t. “She’s in love with you if you don’t know already.” He had his attention. Gillian was in love with him? Oh, he knew she cared about him, but it didn’t mean she loved him. “She does.” Jerry nodded. “Something she never was with me. I can admit the truth now. I just wondered if you returned the affection. I still care for Gillian and I want her to be happy. You gave me my answer.” Jerry nodded his head with approval and turned on his heels, but at the door, he stopped and glanced back. "I'll be by later to check on Tyler. If you need anything, let me know." All right, he’d take him up on that. "There is something." Jerry nodded. "Name it?" "I find myself in your world without means to support my family." Zachary pulled out his pocket watch and handed it to Jerry. "I was wondering if you knew where I could sell this." Jerry opened the pocket watch. “This is impeccable, unique and obviously something precious. I'm not sure what it will go for, but I do know someone who deals with antiques. May I keep it for now?" "Please. The watch dates back before I was born. It was my grandfather Creighton's watch." "I’ll see that you get a fair deal." CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

The waitress, Milly, a woman in her seventies who had been with Polly’s since the day they opened the restaurant’s doors, served Gillian and Samantha a cup of freshly brewed coffee and their favorite pies. Samantha waited until the waitress was out of hearing range before she spoke. "Do you really believe Zachary and Tyler will return to their time?" Samantha took a large bite of her coconut chocolate pie. "There isn’t another choice. If Tyler doesn't go back, Jerry will never exist." "Maybe Tyler is the only one who will go back. There's no reason why Zachary has to go." Samantha took a sip of her coffee. She decided to add a little more flavored cream to the mixture. "Sure there is. Tyler lost both of his parents. He needs Zachary. Zachary would never let him go back alone." "I understand Tyler needs someone, but you told me there was a grandmother.” "Great-grandmother," Gillian corrected. "Okay great-grandmother. What I'm trying to say is what about you and Zachary?" Gillian couldn’t meet her friend’s eyes. Instead, she studied her peach pie, lightly poking at it with her fork. Gillian wanted Zachary to be with her always, but it looked like they weren’t meant to be. She sighed heavily. "What we want is not important," she voiced this mostly to convince herself and failed miserably. "He's married to you." Samantha didn’t let the matter drop. She stared at Gillian as she ate her pie. "Listen," Gillian met Samantha’s questioning gaze, “there's something I haven't told you." She was trying to decide the best way to spill the beans about her unique marriage arrangement. Since she couldn’t think of a delicate way of putting it, she just blurted it out. "Zachary and I aren’t sleeping together." Samantha put down her fork and stared open mouth at Gillian. "No sex? Is that what you’re saying?" Leave it to Samantha to be so blunt. "Well, of course not now," Gillian said defensively. “But you have slept together?” “Twice, but we shouldn’t have. We both have come to terms with it. We made an arrangement. I'm Tyler's tutor." Samantha leaned forward. “Gillian, I love you, but you are the craziest red-head I know. What kind of logic is that? You’re married to the man for God’s sake. So don’t go throwing some moral mumble jumble at me. Sleep with the man.” “Samantha, stop.” “No, you stop. Unless there is some other reason the two of you aren’t ravishing each other —” She stopped in mid-sentence. Gillian knew her face had flushed red. Damn her skin for giving her away. “Oh please, you’ve got to be kidding me.” “What?” Gillian bit her lower lip, knowing Samantha had figured it out. “The dream. It’s the friggin’ dream, isn’t it?” She threw up her hands in disgust. “Get over it already. Honey, Zachary Creighton is a dream. So hold onto him before you regret it.” “I belong here. He belongs—” “Who cares? Enjoy the time you have with each other. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?”

Gillian pierced her lips together. Sure, it sounded simple, but there was always consequences to actions, no matter how good the intentions. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO "You must be joking," Zachary exclaimed. "I'm not wearing this." He came out of the bedroom wearing the new shorts and T-shirt Gillian had bought for him. "This cannot be proper attire for a gentleman." "You look great. Really," Gillian said between good-humored chortles. He snorted and was about to go back into the bedroom and change, when she grabbed his arm to stop him. He turned and looked at her. "You look fine,” she insisted. “I assure you, men … gentlemen of your age wear shorts similar to those." Zachary chuckled. "You mean to tell me you have more than a few over a hundred-fifty year old men running around?” "Cute. Real cute." Gillian let go of his arm and went back to the bag by the couch. "I have one more item to go with that outfit. I had to guess the size." Gillian pulled out a shoebox. "Once you put these on, you'll never want to wear anything else." Zachary took the box from her, removing the lid. "You want me to put on these?” He looked skeptically at her. "I think I'll stick with my boots." "No you won't. You can't wear boots with shorts." After some convincing, he finally relented and tried on the tennis shoes. They were a perfect fit. He stood and walked in them. He wiggled his toes. Then he turned and looked at Gillian with his lopsided grin. "Okay, you were right. They feel great. No wonder you wanted to wear your Nikes all the time. *** Jerry released Tyler from the hospital and he could barely sit still as they drove home. He bubbled over with excitement as he took in all the sights. There wasn't a moment that went by that he didn't say, "Will you look at that, Uncle Zachary? Did you see that? What is that?" Gillian saw her world in a new perspective. For the next week, Zachary, Tyler and Gillian lived together in the apartment almost as if they were a real family. Except for one difference: Zachary and Tyler shared a room Gillian wanted to rectify the roommate situation. Exactly, seven days after Tyler's surgery, he had an appointment at Jerry's office for quick checkup. Jerry gave the boy a clean bill of health. To celebrate, Gillian suggested they all go to the beach and have a cook out. Jerry liked the idea and he told them that he would give Samantha a call with the directions. They would meet between lifeguard stand five and seven. Jerry volunteered to bring the hot dogs, buns and condiments. Gillian and Zachary would bring the chips, drinks, and of course, marshmallows. Jerry had cooked the fire-roasted dogs. Gillian handed Tyler and Zachary a plate and sat down on the blanket with hers. “Thanks,” Zachary said staring at the food as if she’d served him hemlock. "What's wrong? Don't you like hot dogs?"

"Can't say I ever had one," Zachary said. "Don't think I could eat it." "What do you mean, why not?" "It could be one of Molly's friends," Tyler cried. Gillian blinked and she looked back at Jerry and Samantha who tried to stifle a laugh. Gillian looked back at her two favorite men and smiled. "You’re not really eating a dog. They’re just called that. These dogs happen to be made with turkey meat." Zachary stared at the hot dog for a moment. "Then why don't they call them a hot turkey?" Gillian shrugged. "I have no idea." She took an over exaggerated bite of her hot dog to emphasize how wonderful it tasted, but the two just continued to stare at their plates as if they were still unsure if they should try the unfamiliar meal. "Come on, you at least have to try one," Gillian coaxed. Zachary looked at Tyler. “Hey, if you try it, I’ll give it a go.” “It does smell good.” He nodded. “Sure.” They took their first bite. Zachary mouth curved into a grin. “These are good, Uncle Zachary.” Tyler took another bite. “Told you,” Gillian chuckled. “Another first here.” Zachary grinned at her and she leaned against him, giving him a nudge. “See, I can take care of you, too.” “So you can.” *** While Zachary, Samantha and Tyler were down by the water, Jerry grabbed two Dr. Peppers and sat down beside Gillian. He handed one of the sodas to her and she glanced his way with a smile. "Thanks Jerry." "No problem." He sipped his soda in silence. Gillian smiled as she watched him run his fingers through his hair. It was a habit of his when he had something on his mind. “You might as well spill it, Jerry.” He looked at her. "What do you mean?” Her gaze landed on his hand as he ran his finger through his hair again. He realized what he was doing and stopped. “You can read me so well.” She nodded. “We’ve known each other for a long time.” “Yes we have and I know I can speak my mind with you. I thought I could keep myself from liking Zachary, but I have to admit he’s a pretty decent guy." He sighed. “Don’t’ sound so disappointed. Zachary’s a good man." "You care about him?" "I do.” "Do you care for him enough to go with him when it’s time for him to return?" Gillian didn't know how to answer. She didn't want to lose Zachary, but how could she invite herself to go back with him? They weren't exactly living like a married couple. He had his own room. She had hers. She had the dream again last night, but it was somehow different. She’d recognized the touch, the feel of his hands. She dreamt about Zachary. Her emotions have been so mixed

up lately. Maybe she just wanted Zachary to be the man in her dreams. Maybe it didn’t even matter anymore. Maybe she’d been silly to believe the dreams meant anything at all. She frowned. “I’ve upset you. I'm sorry, Gillian. Forget, I said anything. It’s really not any of my business." He took a quick swig of his soda. “No.” She shook her head. "It's all right you asked. Our relationship is complicated. When I was stranded in 1870, Zachary protected me. There was no question on where I would stay, but now, I'm on my own turf, so to speak and the odd thing is I feel insecure. I'm not sure if Zachary would want me to go back with him. He hasn't asked me to." There she had said it. Let Jerry think whatever he wanted with the pathetic statement. She didn't want to pretend anymore that all was perfect for it was far from it. Jerry sighed. "Gillian, I love you dearly." “Jerry, I...” A whisper of apprehension centered in her heart, but he must have sensed her wariness. "Don't worry. I love you dearly, as a friend and I’m worried about you. The 1870’s were primitive socially with their prejudice beliefs, and medically speaking you might as well be stranded in the Middle Ages. I just want you to weigh everything before making your final decision.” She met his gaze. “I know how different it is. I was there, remember?” “Yes, but it wasn’t forever.” He had her attention now. “Because of poor hygiene, inadequate plumbing and lack of antibiotics, even a common cold could kill you. I don’t even want to think of child bearing.” “Jerry, stop.” “You have to hear it. It’s not a vacation you’re planning. Your decision would affect the rest of your life." From the distance, Zachary looked their way. He smiled and waved. Gillian returned the gesture. “Maybe you can’t see how Zachary feels about you, but I certainly do. He'll ask you to go back with him." He stood and headed toward the water before Gillian could comment. *** The next day, Jerry took Zachary and Tyler to their first baseball game, while Samantha and Gillian decided they’d pass on the excursion for they had plans of their own. They caught a matinee then decided to head to Polly’s for dessert. They were becoming regulars. Milly practically had their pie and coffee ready at the table before they arrived. As soon as they were seated, Samantha didn't waste any time. She started in on Gillian and her relationship. She meant well, but Gillian wished she’d find another hard luck case and leave her alone. "Let me get this straight," Samantha began, “you two are married, but he allows you to what... sleep in another room and pretend you never said your marriage vows?" "I told you, neither one of us wanted to get marry. We were forced." “Oh yes, I heard all right… from both of you. I’d have to be blind not to see how the two of you goo-goo eye each other, and it’s definitely not an employee-boss kind of look. You’ve spent weeks with this man. Surely, things have changed. I’ve witnessed you two in action. You both act as if you’ve been married, forever. What is Zachary’s stand on all this anyway?"

"I asked him once before how he felt about me. He didn't have an answer." "When did you ask him? Recently?" "Well... no. What difference does that make?" Samantha shook her head in disbelief. "It makes all the difference in the world. You have both been through a lot. You’ve had a chance to become friends. It’s not all about lust now —and don’t deny it. You’re attracted to him. I’m talking about the way you see him. Haven't your opinions changed? Don't you feel something more than you did the day you married him? Surely, you aren’t going to let him go without finding out." "There's no need to find out and I refuse to complicate things with sex. As soon as Molly shows up, he'll be going back to his time and it will be over." Samantha mulled over her answer before she hit her with the next question. "How do you feel about that? I mean, when he goes back… it will be over. You will never see him again… ever. Can you accept that?" Gillian pierced her lips together. She would miss their late night talks, his sparkling blue eyes and how they lit up when he teased her. She would miss the way it felt to slide her thumb over his cleft chin. She swallowed the hard lump of sadness that settled in her throat. Samantha interrupted her thoughts. "You're in love with him. I noticed it the first time I saw you two together. Your eyes light up when he enters the room, your voice even changes when you say his name. Zachary," she said in a sultry, husky voice, pretending to imitate Gillian. Both girls giggled as Gillian protested. "I do not say his name like that." "Well, close enough. I'd say you've fallen in love and I'm happy to see it's with a live person and not a dream." "He might as well be a dream. Samantha, the man may be here in this time living and breathing, but the fact remains, when he goes back to his time, he'll be nothing more than a ghost." "That may be true, but let me give you a little advice my mother constantly gives me: Live in the now. And honey, he's here now. Let me tell you, he's very much alive. He's one gorgeous hottie and you can't tell me he's just an apparition." "Samantha!" Gillian tried to sound shocked at her friend's honesty. "He is gorgeous, as you very well know." Samantha leaned forward and with fierce conviction biting her words. "Don't let him go. Not if he's what you want." "I believe he’s the one, Samantha. I can't stop thinking about him and it's driving me crazy that he's sleeping under my roof and I can't be near him." "That's just geography, honey. You can change that easily. It's simple. Just invite him to your room. There's nothing wrong with asking him. You're married to the man. Don't you think it's time you acted like it? Get crazy, kiss, hug and by God, have sex with the man.” She tapped her chin with her forefinger. “If you’re game, I have a plan to help you out." Gillian listened with sweet anticipation. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE Gillian paced while she waited for the boys to arrive back from the ballgame. Samantha shook her head. “Will you sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

Before she could give her a retort, she heard the car pull up. Her eyes widened. “They’re back.” “Good thing, too. Look Gillian.” She pointed around her. “The place is set for a night of seduction. Take a deep breath and let nature take its course.” Samantha volunteered to take Tyler home with her with the promise to rent a movie and munch on popcorn and milk duds. Samantha invited Jerry to join them and before Gillian knew it, she stood on her porch with Zachary and waved goodbye to them. They were alone at last. She crossed her fingers and hoped everything would go as planned. "I hope you’re hungry?" Gillian looked at Zachary. "Of course. One can only have so many hot dogs. I am dying to have anything else. What did you have in mind?" "Oh. You’re burned out on hot dogs?" Gillian pouted. Zachary immediately back peddled, not wanting to offend her. “If you want hot dogs that’s —” Her lips twitched in amusement. “Okay, I can see you’re trying to hide your grin." "Had you going, didn’t I?” She took his hand and led him back inside the house “Come on. I have prepared something special." Soft music filtered through stereo speakers. The table had been set for two with a vase of fresh flowers. Candles illuminated the room with the scent of vanilla spice. Zachary’s gaze flew to Gillian’s, but she cleverly avoided eye contact as she headed toward the kitchen. "Take a seat," she called from the other room. Zachary did as he was told and waited patiently for Gillian to return. Whatever had gotten into her, he liked it. The whole house smelled wonderful from what she’d conjured up for dinner. His mouth watered in anticipation. “Looks like you went to a lot of trouble. What’s the occasion?” “No occasion.” She came in carrying plates for both of them. She made lemon chicken, green beans with almonds, and mashed potatoes. Zachary took the first bite and smiled. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.” Gillian beamed with pride. “There’s cheesecake with fresh strawberries for dessert.” “I can’t wait.” After the meal, Zachary pushed back his chair and smiled as he rubbed his stomach. "That ma’am was the best darn meal, I’ve had in forever." "Well, thank you kindly, sir." She pushed back her chair and offered her hand. “Care to dance, cowboy?” Zachary stared at her for a beat of a second. He’d swear she was trying to seduce him, but he knew better and forced his emotions under control. He stood and pulled her against him. She moved closer until their lower bodies swayed in unison. He swallowed the lump in his throat. She rested her head on his chest. He was ever conscious of her nearness, her hips moving against him sending fire through every nerve in his body. He wondered if she knew what she did to him. As much as he wanted to hold her, he couldn't do this. God help him, he’d lose his self-control. He’d wanted Gillian for so long that it tore him up inside. How could he hold her so close and not want to sweep her into his arms and make love to her? Didn’t she realize the danger she put herself in? By God, he’d never pretended to be a saint, and a saint is what he’d have to be to resist her. He stopped dancing and took hold of her

shoulders. He pushed her away. He had to, before he did something, she’d never forgive him for doing. "I'm sorry, Gillian." He took a step back. His actions only proved to make the situation awkward. "I'm the one who’s sorry." She hugged herself. Zachary looked at her, his brows knitted in confusion. What was she talking about? Why was she sorry? "I thought," she stammered. "Oh... forget it." With a quick jolting move, she blew out the candles on the table as if she believed the flames had threatened to burn down the place. Zachary didn’t want to forget it. He put his hand on her shoulder and turned her toward him. She tried to avoid eye contact, but she didn’t quite succeed in hiding the fact that tears pooled in her eyes. "What's wrong, Gillian? What did I do?" She sniffled and he almost didn't hear her. "You didn't want me." "What?" He ran his hand through his hair. "Not want you? Hell and damnation,” he swore beneath his breath. “When have I ever stopped wanting you? I only pushed you away because if I had continued to hold you the way I had, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself." He lifted her chin so she would look at him. "I would like nothing more than to make love to you, but... " "But?" Gillian waited. He sighed with deep regret. Why did she suddenly decide to go forward with the relationship when he knew he couldn’t allow it? He dreaded what he was about to tell her, but it was for the best. He took her by the hand and led her to the couch, persuading her to sit down. Not wanting to talk to her in the dark, he turned on the lights. Once the room was illuminated, he sat down beside her. Zachary sighed with unmistakable regret. Gillian decided she didn’t want him to say anything. She tried to move away, but he held fast to her hand. "You're so beautiful, Gillian.” Wonderful. He’d charm her then dump her. "You will never know how much I want you, but..." There was that word again, Gillian thought. "We can never let our relationship go any further than what it is now. You have been right all along. We come from two different worlds. We should have never been.” She knew all this. She had the same doubts, but now she didn’t care. “You know as well as I, that Molly will return. When she does, it is certain Tyler will have to go back. There is no possible way around it." His large hands held her face gently and his gaze held her prisoner. "I can't let Tyler go back alone. I’m his guardian. I'm the closest thing he'll ever have to a father. I could never desert him. Do you understand?" "Zachary, I would never ask you to abandon Tyler." "I know you wouldn't. Surely, you see if I go back to my time we cannot be together.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “You belong here, in this world that offers so much. I could never ask you to give all this up." "Maybe all this doesn’t matter to me." She moved away from him and waved her hand around the room. "Really now." He didn’t sound convinced. "How could all this not matter? Think about it for a moment. You would never again have a hot shower anytime you wished. You would

never be able to jump in your automobile and drive somewhere. You would never have light at the touch of a finger. I know these are simple things for you, but they aren't available in 1870." "I don’t care." She tried to convince him. "Okay. Let's just say, things you have taken for granted all your life, don’t matter. I'll give you that, but what about the man you’ve been dreaming about, your soul mate?" She wished he wouldn’t bring up the dreams. "You told me you were waiting for him." “Zachary, he doesn’t—” He placed a finger on her lips. “Remember you told me you called off your wedding with Jerry because you weren’t in love with him. You told me you were in love with the man in your dreams. If you went back to my world, you wouldn't be able to walk away. We’re already married in my time, and I wouldn’t let you go so easily." "I know what I did to Jerry and what I said," she snapped before she could stop herself. “It’s not fair that you throw that in my face. This is different." "Is it?" He was so perfectly calm that Gillian wanted to slap him to make him shut up, but he had taken hold of both of her hands and continued to say what was on his mind. "You can never go back with me. The man you’re searching for is unquestionably of this century. If you went back with me, you would never find him. You would eventually end up resenting me. Maybe I’m being selfish, but I couldn't endure your rejection." She didn’t want to hear anymore. She had decided what she felt for him, but he put doubts in her mind, making her question herself. She still dreamt of a man who held her near, but she didn’t even know if he existed. She knew Zachary did. Why did he think he could decide what she wanted and didn't want? She frowned trying to think of the reasons why they should try to make this relationship work, but then it dawned on her what his true intentions might be. He wanted to push her away. He didn’t love her and this ploy was his way to let her down easy. He told her in the very beginning, that he didn’t want a wife. He made the wager with her, stating if he won Creighton Manor, he would set her free. How perfect this must all seem to him. He could get rid of her in another century. She yanked free of his touch. "Don't bother with your pretense of chivalry. I'm not buying it. If you hadn't noticed, I’m throwing myself at you. I was offering myself to you with no promises," she lied. She wanted him to promise the world to her, and she would have gladly given it back, tenfold. She sprung away from the couch and began pacing like a caged animal. Fury poured through her, boiling her blood until she couldn’t think straight. The arrogant jerk had no right to tell her what she wanted and didn’t want. She stopped pacing and whirled on him. "You couldn't just accept it, could you? It was simple. We could have slept together. I wasn't asking for anything in return, but you have to turn it all around and make it something it’s not.” She wanted to pick a fight, but he didn’t respond in the way she expected. He remained calm, patronizing her as if he thought eventually she’d realize his refusal was for the best. "Listen Gillian, I think I know you better than that. You don’t want a meaningless relationship. You're someone who wants commitment and you deserve to have it. You want someone who will love and cherish you forever. As much as I would like to give you these things, I can't compete with someone in your dreams. And you should not settle for something less than what you want." He rose now from his seat and tried to reach for her.

That was his mistake. She was too angry and her pride was sorely bruised from his rejection. She couldn't tolerate him touching her as if he pitied her. A scream of frustration bubbled up and escaped. She grabbed his arm and swung him to the ground. He lay there sprawled on his back with a stunned expression on his face. He stared up at her. She yanked off her wedding ring as if it burned her skin. "See this piece of metal. As of right now, we are not married. I'll give you your freedom this very minute! You won't have to wait for Molly to rescue you." She threw the ring at him. It bounced off his chest and rolled on the floor, hitting the edge of the television. She whirled around, leaving him there. Zachary was wise enough to stay put. He watched her storm off to her bedroom, mumbling some sort of profanity before she slammed the door with such gusto that he couldn’t help but flinch. He sat up and leaned over to pick up the wedding band that Gillian had thrown at him. He twirled it around and wondered what he should do now. He had completely messed things up. As he came to his feet, he slipped the ring on his pinkie finger. He went into the kitchen, stared at the chaotic array of dishes, pots, and pans in the sink and on the counters. Not knowing what else to do, he decided to clean up. It was the least he could do after he had destroyed the beautifully planned evening. He let the music on the disc player continue. It was relaxing music, but he didn’t feel the tension leaving him. He washed the dishes, hoping this would help matters. Then it dawned on him what Gillian had been doing—the candles, the special meal and the music. He realized all the trouble she had gone to, so that they could be alone together. She had tried to seduce him. The idea of it made him smile. She really did want him. Then he frowned. No wonder, she was so furious. He had rejected her. He’d humiliated her. He dried his hands on the towel and leaned against the edge of the sink. How he wished it could be simple. He wished that he could ask Gillian to go back with him and live her life in his century. He ran his fingers through his hair still holding on to that thought. He then shook his head. It wouldn't be fair to her and he loved her too much to compromise her happiness. He switched off the CD player. He heard a scratching noise at the front door. He listened, wondering if it had been his imagination. He went over to the window and moved the curtain to the side. The porch light was on, so he could easily make out what had caused the racket. It was Molly. "No, not yet," he couldn't help saying for he wasn't ready to go back. Molly looked at him as if she had understood his plea. She tilted her head to one side then barked once before she ran off into the night. Zachary wasn't sure what that meant, but maybe she did understand him and was granting him some more time. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR Gillian tossed and turned all night plagued by dreams. She dreamt that she was lost and couldn’t find anyone. Then the man of her dreams was there to comfort her, but he couldn’t get close. He kept slipping farther and farther away. She dreamt that Molly came in the night and took Zachary away forever. She woke with a start, but the nightmare didn’t

recede. She knew Zachary would go and she would never see him again. She hugged her pillow close, letting the tears flow down her cheeks. Morning was a cruel greeting. Her eyes were puffy and her head ached. She wearily got out of bed. She headed for the bathroom. She didn’t want to face Zachary until she downed a couple of Tylenol capsules. She opened her medicine cabinet. She took two of the pills out, returning the bottle to its shelf. Then she proceeded to the kitchen for a glass of water. As she swallowed her pain relievers, her gaze traveled over the spotless room. Everything was put away. The counters, table and stove were cleaned. Freshly brewed coffee hit her nostrils. She turned to look at the coffeepot on the counter. There was indeed a full pot brewed with her favorite coffee mug next to it and a note taped to the handle. Why was there a note? She opened it with trembling hands and read the contents. "Dearest Gillian, I went with Jerry to take care of some business. I will be back as soon as I can. I made you some coffee. I hope it's not too strong. See you later. P.S. Sorry about last night, please do not be cross with me. We may not have that much time left together. Molly has made her presence known. Yours truly, Zachary "Molly was here?" A pain squeezed her heart. She knew she was going to lose him. By the time Samantha brought Tyler home, Gillian was dry eyed and composed. Her headache lessened to a dull ache. She hoped Samantha wouldn’t question her, but that would be asking for a miracle. She would want all the details of last night’s events and Gillian was a horrible liar. She wouldn’t be able to hide her true feelings for long. She was right. The moment Samantha laid eyes on her, she knew. "What went wrong?” were Samantha's first words out of her mouth. Gillian led her into the kitchen, while Tyler turned on the TV to watch the morning cartoons. Gillian poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Samantha. She slid the sugar bowl and the flavored hazelnut creamer toward her. "So?" Samantha waived her hand for Gillian to continue as she pulled out a chair from the table and sat down. Gillian leaned against the sink. "I'll make it simple. He didn't want me. Period. End of story." "Oh, that cannot be true. I don't believe it. I've seen him look at you, Gillian. Let me tell you, that look is not of a platonic nature." "Last night, it was." Gillian decided to sit down too. She took the creamer and poured a generous helping into her cup. "Tell me from the beginning exactly what happened?” "We had dinner. We talked— " "Talked?" Samantha interrupted. "Talk serious or talk nonsense talk?" "Both, I guess. We just talked. It was nice. Everything seemed to be going well. I turned on the music —" "The music, I recommended?" "Yes." Gillian was getting a little perturbed that Samantha was interrupting her with questions that were completely irrelevant to what had happened. "I asked him to dance." "And did you?" "Yes, we danced for a little while. Then he pulled away from me." "Why did he do that?" Samantha exclaimed. "I have no idea. He said he couldn't do this to me. He gave me a cockamamie story, about how he wouldn’t allow me to settle for something I would regret later."

Samantha stared at her for a blink of an eye before she shook her head. "I know your reasons for pushing him away, but please tell me you didn’t tell Zachary about your dreams." Gillian put her cup down and quickly rose from her seat. "What does that have to do with anything?" "You did! What in the world is wrong with you? You have thrown away two perfectly wonderful men because of a dream. Do you hear me? It's a dream, not reality." "I know that, but... " "But... what?" "I can't help but feel Zachary has a point. He belongs in another time and I belong here. We never proclaimed any love between us. How could I beg him to take me with him? How could I take a chance like that? What if things didn’t work out? What happens if I can't tolerate living with him? Half the time we don't see eye to eye. In his time, I wouldn’t have any close friends, not like you. The only people I know are his grandmother and his best friend, Ellery. The more I think about it, the more I see he’s right. I couldn't live with him." "And if you stay here and Zachary goes? Then what? You will be happy? You won't miss him?" Gillian thought she had been doing a good job, convincing herself she could live without him. She didn't want to think about missing him. "Let it go. He’s going back to where he belongs and I’m staying where I’m supposed to be. End of subject.” *** Jerry picked Zachary up and headed to the office so he could sign the papers to finish the deal. The pocket watch was one of a hundred watches made and only a few had ever been recovered. Out of those few, not one had kept time. The man that wanted to purchase the pocket watch was amazed at its impeccable condition. He offered three times the amount he would have offered if the timepiece had not been running. Jerry had checked with a colleague of his that collected antiques and he assured him the price was a fair one. Zachary should be thrilled, but he looked like he just lost his best friend. Jerry might have dismissed the glumness over his loss of the pocket watch. After all, it had been a gift from his grandfather, but Jerry was sure it was something much more. He tried to broach the subject with Zachary, but he didn’t want to let him in. He decided he had better leave well enough alone. If the man wanted to confide in him, he would. "Will I have enough to pay the medical bills at the hospital?" Zachary asked. “This is more money than I’ve earned in a year, but I know how expensive everything is here.” Jerry smiled. "Oh, you will have more than enough. That pocket watch of yours was worth a small fortune." “That's good to know." Zachary looked at Jerry. "I need to ask another favor." "What do you need?" "Will you help me set up an account at a reputable bank?" “I think I can manage that.” CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

It was near dusk two days later when Molly appeared. They were out on the patio. Jerry was barbecuing the hamburgers that were just about ready to come off the grill. Gillian emerged from the apartment with the plate when a feeling, a tingling on the back of her neck, made her turn her head. The platter slipped from her grip, hitting the ground with a deafening crash. The conversation immediately halted as all eyes riveted toward her. Zachary turned in his seat to follow her gaze. Gillian knew Molly would come for Zachary and Tyler. Still she hadn’t prepared herself for the pit of hopelessness that opened up in her stomach. Their time together was truly over and she would never see them again. Molly barked and trotted over to Zachary. She threw herself down on the ground and rolled over with her usual hello. Zachary leaned down to pet her. "That's Molly, the key to time traveling?" Jerry stared at the dog in disbelief. “She’s nothing more than an ordinary looking dog, not even a pure bred.” "You expected her to have wings maybe?" Samantha teased and he threw her a sheepish look. "Molly!" Tyler ran to her. He threw himself down on the ground and hugged his friend. Molly licked his face. Tyler’s innocent laughter made it worse. Gillian couldn't watch. She couldn’t stand by and let the two people she loved, disappear from her life, forever. The sizzling meat and smoke made Jerry remember the hamburgers. "Our dinner!” He picked up the platter that had luckily fallen on the ground face up and he removed the patties from the flame. Gillian went inside and headed to the bathroom. She shut the door. Zachary must have followed her. A second later, he knocked on the door. "Gillian, are you all right?” She couldn’t answer, not with the tears flowing. Her voice would give her away. "Gillian?” She flushed the toilet, giving her some more time. It must have worked for he didn’t knock again. She turned on the faucet and let the water run before she splashed her face. She looked into the mirror meeting her reflection. "You’re a coward." She turned off the water with a jerk of her hand. She grabbed a few tissues and wiped the tears away before she blew her nose. She opened the bathroom door and saw Zachary through the screen shaking hands with Jerry. He then gave a quick hug to Samantha. Gillian took a step closer, her heart pounding in her chest. He was saying goodbye. He must have heard her approach for his head turned. They looked at each other, their gazes locked. Molly barked. Gillian had heard enough of Molly's demands to know this yowl was not of pain, but of urgency. She was going to lead them to the past. Gillian couldn’t move. It was as if her feet were imbedded in cement. "Dear God, would you look at that?" Gillian heard Jerry exclaim. Gillian knew the vortex, portal or whatever it was called had opened. Zachary dragged his gaze away from Gillian. “We have to go.” He glanced down at Tyler, as he took his hand. "Are you ready to go home?"

"Will I get to see Lotti?" Zachary smiled. "Yes, we'll see Lotti." Tyler grinned as he shouted his goodbyes. Zachary took Tyler’s hand as they stepped through the hazy door that led to the past. Molly continued barking. Gillian walked outside and looked toward the mist. Zachary turned to look at her, his blue eyes again locking with her green ones, holding, beseeching. Her heart was going to break, if she let him go. She took a step toward the haze. Zachary lifted his hand as if beckoning her to cross over to him. Molly barked frantically, drawing her attention to her. Was she trying to tell her she was supposed to go? Just as she was about to make the leap, the haze seemed to change, shift, solidifying before her eyes. Zachary took a step toward Gillian, but stopped. The invisible wall prevented him from going further. He couldn't go past the line that separated his time from hers. He reached out his hand again, as if hoping she could still get through on her side. "What's happening?" Gillian heard Samantha ask. Gillian knew the door was closing. She had to go now. She backed up and tried to leap into the disappearing haze. She hit against the invisible wall, sending her flying backward and landing hard on the ground. Jerry came immediately to her side, but Gillian brushed him away. "I have to get through." She rose to her feet and was about to try again. She could still see Zachary and the frantic expression he wore on his face. She wasn’t going to make it. The last thing she saw was Zachary's outstretched hand. She heard him cry the words she had longed to hear. "Grá mo chroí." He began to fade, transparent as a ghost until he was no longer there. "No!" Gillian screamed running to the spot where Zachary and Tyler had stood. "No!" she screamed again. Her knees gave out and she fell to the ground, weeping into her hands. Samantha came to her side and put her arm around her shoulders. "Come on Gillian. Let's go inside," Samantha tried to persuade her. "He's gone. He's really gone." She looked at Samantha with tears streaming down her face. "It was Zachary all along." "I know, honey. I know." "No. I mean it was him." Samantha pulled away to look at her. "Him, as in being him in your dreams?" "He said the words I’ve heard in my dreams. All this time, I had the man I wanted and I pushed him away. I was so obsessed in hearing those words, those silly words. I don't even know what they mean. How could I’ve been so blind? Now… my God, I’ve lost him. I’ve lost him forever." Samantha pulled her close, trying to lend comfort anyway she could. Samantha looked up and saw Jerry’s expression of concern. She motioned to him that she would take care of her. Jerry nodded and went into the house. He had never seen Gillian look like that, so lost. He was worried about the repercussions of losing Zachary would have on her. He felt guilty too. He thought back to the conversation he had with Zachary only a day before, while they were driving to the bank. "Jerry, you’ve been a really good friend to Tyler and to me. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you, knowing how you once felt about Gillian." Jerry shrugged. "I respect you and I need to have your honest opinion of my situation."

He glanced at Zachary curious about what he wanted to ask. "I know it won’t be long now before I go. Molly came back last night, so I’m sure it is only a matter of time." He rubbed his hands on his pants." I told Gillian she belonged here and I put a stop to any intimate contact between us because... well it wouldn’t be right if I was going to leave her behind, but if I were to... " Zachary ran his fingers through his hair. "Hell and damnation," he muttered. “What am I thinking? Forget it." Zachary turned and looked out the window in silence. Jerry kept his eyes on the road, his jaw muscles working as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. Jerry suspected Zachary wanted his permission to take Gillian away. He was relieved he hadn’t asked. As much as he knew that Gillian and Zachary belonged together, he couldn’t say it. It was selfish on his part, but the thought of her going back to the cesspool of disease was asking too much. She could fall sick… die, but what if her going back had been meant to be and he was responsible for stopping it. "Jerry?" Samantha’s voice brought him back to the present. He turned to look at her. "Are you all right? I was talking to you and you seemed a million miles away." "I'm fine. Sorry. What were you saying?" "I tucked Gillian into bed but I don't think she should be alone." Jerry nodded his agreement. "That's a wise idea. She's in an emotional state right now and no telling what she... " He stopped himself from finishing his statement. "God, this is a mess." If he had been a decent man, a friend as he claimed to be, he would have told Zachary he was right in taking Gillian with him. Now, he would have to live with the fact he’d caused Gillian's unhappiness. Samantha suspected he was upset. She didn’t know the half of it. She walked over to him. "She'll be all right. Gillian is a strong person. She'll pull through this." Jerry looked at Samantha trying to be supportive too, but he knew the misery of the evening’s events would haunt them all. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX Zachary stared in front of him, not able to move. He had deceived himself into thinking he could leave Gillian behind. She had tried to come to him, but it had been too late. Now he would have to live his life without ever seeing her smiling face, or hearing her sweet laughter. He would never be able to touch her, hold her... make love to her. He never told her how he felt. He never told her he loved her. With the door to time closed, he was dead to her now. Zachary felt a tugging on his shorts. He looked down into Tyler's small upturned face. "Where's Aunt Gillian? Didn't she come with us?" "No.” Inhaling deeply, he swallowed back the tears. “She couldn't." Tyler’s face pouted. "She'll come later, won’t she?" "I don't think so." Zachary ruffled Tyler's hair. "Come on we have to change and then go see Lotti. She'll be worried about us.” Zachary looked back one more time with hopes that the doorway would somehow reappear. To his dismay, there was just the field before him and nothing more. Molly trotted up to Zachary and sat down at his feet. She turned her head to one side then the other.

"Can you find her again, Molly?" Zachary asked. She barked three times in response before she ran off in the opposite direction. "Uncle Zachary, are you coming?" Tyler was already standing on the back porch. Zachary turned and headed toward the house. "I'm right behind you." *** "I'm so happy you’re all better." Lotti hugged Tyler snugly against her chest. "I thought I might never see you again.” "Aah Lotti." Tyler wiggled free from his great-grandmother's embrace. "Do you have to get so mushy?" Lotti chuckled, but she had tears glistening in her eyes. When Dora had told her that Zachary had taken Tyler and went somewhere for help, she had known that they had gone to the future. She was frantic not knowing if Tyler was all right or if they would ever return. "May I go outside?" Tyler was anxious to be away from all the attention. Lotti nodded and he ran out of the room. Lotti now concentrated on Zachary, who was leaning against the fireplace. He had been very quiet since he arrived and she was sure it had to do with Gillian. Since the young woman had not come to the house with Zachary and Tyler, she could only assume she had stayed behind in her own time. Lotti tapped her cane to attract Zachary's attention. He turned and focused, realizing his nephew was no longer in the room. "Where did Tyler go?" "Not to worry. He went outside to play." Zachary squirmed under her scrutinizing gaze. Good, he should. "Sorry Lotti, did you say something?" "No." There was a long silence, but finally, Lotti broke it. "Well, are you going to tell me or not?" She tapped her cane with impatience. "Tell you what?" "Blast it Zachary, don't play games with me. Gillian? What happen? Why isn’t she with you?" "She didn't make it." Lotti frowned. "Didn't make it? Did something happen to her?" "No. I thought I knew what was best. I thought she didn't belong here and told her as much." "Why in the world did you do that?" Zachary ran his fingers through his hair. "Because... because I thought I was doing the right thing." He sighed gloomily. "I was wrong. She tried to follow us back, but the door closed. I should have never left her. I should have..." He shook his head. “It was a terrible mistake.” Lotti remained silent. She saw the pain and the tired sadness pass over her grandson’s features, but she had no idea how to rectify it. "You’re back." Both Lotti and Zachary turned at the same time to see Ellery enter the room. He was dressed in his finery, laced dress shirt and all. Ellery removed his hat and went over to his friend. They shook hands, but then on second thought, the emotions were running too high and they embraced each other. Ellery pulled

away, gripping his shoulders. "I thought you were gone forever with that little red-headed vixen of yours." His gaze scanned the room, seeing immediately that Gillian wasn’t there. "Where is she?" He turned back to his friend. "She didn’t come back with him," Lotti volunteered the information. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I saw Tyler out front and he didn't tell me that Gillian wasn’t with you." "It's all right. Who knows maybe it was for the best." Zachary moved away, and tried to change the topic of conversation, but his voice choked. Lotti came to his rescue "Anyone for a spot of tea?" CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN The Downhaven Sanitarium "She's been that way since they brought her here," the attendant said to the doctor in charge. He had been away for a few weeks trying to find volunteers to come back with him. The facility had too many patients for his meager staff to take care of efficiently. He had just arrived today knowing that the extra help was not forthcoming. So he wasn’t pleased to find out that they had taken on yet another patient. "What is her name?" "Violet Ellsworth. They said she tried to kill someone," the nurse offered the information. The doctor looked again at the woman sitting in the chair. She was rocking back and forth and hugging herself. Her red hair hung limp around her face, but her petite features told him she once was a beautiful woman. "Well, she appears harmless now doesn't she?" "I would say. She has shut herself off from reality." "Hmm. Then I see no harm in bringing her outside with the others. She won't be running off." The nurse nodded and wheeled Violet out into the open air, situating her under a tree. Then she went to check on the other patients. Violet sat for hours, unattended. No one gave her another thought, until it was too late. The nurse went outside to bring Violet in for the evening meal. Only she wasn't there. The nurse was frantic by the time she informed the doctor. "I can't believe she’s gone. The woman surely was a sly one. I would have never guessed she could even understand us, let alone make an escape. What are we going to do?" "Nothing." The doctor leaned back against his chair. "Nothing?" "Listen, we are far away from any town. Where is she to go? I looked over her records. Her own family has disowned her. Embarrassment, you know. So who's going notice if the woman is missing? She will most likely befall an accident out there alone in the wilderness. She has no food and no water." "Shouldn't we at least try and find her?" "No. I say let nature take its course. One less mouth to feed around here is all the better."

Violet stumbled through the darkness, the will of survival on her side. She knew she couldn't go back to that place. She wasn’t crazy. She did what any other woman would do to protect the person she loved. She had to go home... to Zachary. He’d be waiting for her. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT Zachary and Tyler had made a trip into town. Zachary needed supplies and made a visit to the mercantile. Bought and paid for, he started to load the supplies onto the wagon. He spotted Josephine Locke walking toward them and cursed under his breath. It was hot and muggy with the threat of rain on its way. Josephine was breathing heavily from her short walk and waived a fan repeatedly in front of her flushed face. "It's a dreadful day. Is it not, Mr. Creighton?" He glanced her way and nodded. He was not interested in having a conversation with Josephine. He just wanted to load his supplies and be on his way. "I haven't seen your wife since you've arrived back in town. I hope she is not ill." He continued to ignore her. He wasn't ready to tell people that Gillian wasn’t going to be coming back. Josephine persisted as if she was worried about Gillian. She hadn’t been worried when she and her husband forced them to marry. "Zachary, I said, I hope Mrs. Creighton isn’t ill." He took out his handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow. "I heard you the first time. She's not here." "Not here? Where is she?" Josephine’s brow furrowed. "She's gone." Zachary jumped into the wagon. He had almost gotten away before anything else was said, but Tyler piped up. "She's in a far better place—” Zachary clicked his tongue and set the horses into motion. They were on their way before Josephine could inquire what Tyler had meant by his odd statement. *** "It was the queerest thing," Josephine said to her husband as they readied for bed. She brushed her hair. "Tyler claimed that she was in a far better place. What do you suppose he meant by that?" "I don't know," Cyrus answered, not really paying attention to what his wife was saying. He’d had a long day and wanted to go to sleep. He pulled back the covers on the bed. "You don't think something has happened to her, do you?" Josephine stopped brushing her hair to look at Cyrus. "Happen to her?" Cyrus was snuggled into bed. He tried to recall what his wife had just asked him. "Cyrus! Haven't you been listening to me at all? I'm talking about Gillian Creighton. I think something’s happened to her and I think Zachary had something to do with it. Why else would he try to ignore me when I asked about her? Where do you suppose she is? I might not have thought too much about it, but Tyler's statement has me troubled."

"Troubled about what?" Cyrus was getting impatient now. He didn't want to talk about the Creighton’s. He wanted to go to sleep. "That maybe, Zachary did something to Gillian." "What? You think he murdered her?" Cyrus chuckled. "What are you babbling about? Zachary Creighton is a nuisance, but not a murderer. Now go put out the light and come to bed." Thinking that he had settled things, he rolled over and closed his eyes. “I don’t know how you can sleep when the poor woman could have been murdered.” “Well if she’s dead, she won’t be needing our help, now will she? Now come to bed Josephine and stop with this nonsense.” “I’m going to make a surprise visit to the Creighton’s and see what’s what.” “You do that.” CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE "You have to go with us to the Thomason’s party," Samantha insisted. "We'll have so much fun. Jerry and I promise you, we will have you home early if that's what you want." "Really, you two, I'm perfectly fine.” She liked both Dalia and James Thomason, but she wasn’t in a festive mood. “I just want to relax tonight. I rented two movies." Jerry had already investigated what movies she had rented. “Somersby and Titanic. Could you pick more depressing movies?” “I happen to like those movies.” Samantha rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you do, but you can’t hide away in your apartment and stop living. It’s not healthy.” I promise you both, I'll be back to my old self soon. It's just going to take some time." "But—" Gillian put up her hand to halt Samantha’s next flow of words. "I’m not going.” Samantha shook her head. “You’re sure?” “Positive.” She walked them to the door. A sea breeze had cooled the night and the sky had turned the bluish gray of twilight. “Besides... " She looked at Samantha and then to Jerry. "I think you two should spend some time together—alone. You don’t need me tagging along." "What?" they said in unison. "Don't act so surprised." She’d seen how the two looked at each other, desire evident in their gazes and yet they had done nothing about it. She feared it was because of her. She wanted them to know it was okay. She loved them both and wanted them to be happy. Gillian took Jerry’s hand and one of Samantha's putting them together. "Don't make the same mistakes I’ve made." She smiled. “Good night.” She shut the door politely in their faces. “Okay, that was uncomfortable,” Jerry said, still facing the closed door. Samantha quickly pulled her hand away. Jerry looked at her and cleared his throat. He shoved his hands in his pockets for lack of knowing what else to do. “Yes, well…” Samantha couldn’t meet his gaze and she knew her face had turned a few shades of red. “Do you mind if I skip the party, too? I have to work tomorrow.” She knew it was a lame excuse, but how could she spend the evening with him now?

He didn’t say anything for a long moment then nodded. "Sure, I'll take you home." Samantha couldn't believe Gillian put them in this situation. She liked Jerry, but she didn’t want to screw up their friendship. She enjoyed their talks over dinner. Heck, Jerry had been planning to marry Gillian only a few months ago. As far as she knew, he still harbored feelings for her. She wasn’t desperate for a boyfriend and she in no way would settle for being the rebound girl. As soon as Jerry parked his car in front of her apartment, he turned to look at her. Samantha had to fix this. She didn’t want their relationship to be awkward. "You know what Gillian said back there... you know... about us spending more time together? Don't pay any attention to her. She's—" "Right," Jerry finished. "What?" Samantha wasn't sure she had heard him correctly. He undid his seatbelt and turned in his seat. "I said that she was right. I would really like to take you out." Their gazes locked, held. "You mean on a date?" Samantha could barely contain her excitement. Could it be possible that Jerry Avery was asking her out? He chuckled. "Well, yes a date. Would you consider going out with me?” She stared at him and folded her arms across her chest. “I won’t be your consolation prize.” She lifted her chin in defiance. "If you think I am asking you out to get over Gillian, you’re wrong. I've come to terms with that part of my life. Gillian and I felt a connection and now we know why. I don’t pretend to understand this time travel thing, but there it is. Gillian and I confused the bond for something more than it was ever meant to be. I will always care for Gillian, but I most definitely am not in love with her." He had her full attention now. "I'm asking you, Samantha Meilak out on a date. You’re sweet, smart and may I add an extremely beautiful woman. I enjoy our talks. I love being with you and I would be honored if you would go out with me?" She chewed on her lower lip. A powerful rush of emotions assailed her—happiness that he finally noticed her as woman and not just Gillian’s friend, but she feared he would regret taking the next step. She’d been careful to keep men a safe distance away. She’d been hurt too many times, but this felt different. She never dated a man who could carry on a conversation. She glanced at Jerry who looked at her with longing. He appeared as nervous as she felt. Then it dawned on her, he was afraid she’d say no. A smile slid across her face. He did like her. She nodded her head. “Yes, I'll go out with you." Jerry let out the breath he’d been holding. He leaned over on impulse and kissed her, surprising both of them. “Do you feel it, too?” Jerry asked as he tucked her hair behind her ear. Samantha nodded. Jerry smiled and kissed her again. CHAPTER FORTY Jerry was sitting at his desk fiddling with the key to a safety deposit box. He knew he had to give it to Gillian, but feared he would upset her all over again. It had been three weeks

since Zachary and Tyler went back to their time and she finally seemed to be coming out of her depression. He had already caused her enough grief and he didn’t want to be the cause of anymore. "Dr. Avery?" Jerry looked up as his receptionist came in his office. "I've reached Gillian for you. She's on line three." "Thank you, Kendra." She left the room and Jerry picked up the phone. "Hi Gillian. How are you doing?" "Not bad. I've been trying to organize what I need when school starts. I can't believe the school year will begin in a few weeks. Hey, I talked to Samantha yesterday. I guess you two are becoming an item." Jerry smiled. "Yes, we are. Thanks to you." "To me? What did I have to do with it?" she said all too innocently. "If you hadn't put it so bluntly for us to go out, I may have never had the courage to ask her.” "Well then... you’re welcome." They fell silent. “Jerry, did you call for a reason other than to say hi?” she coaxed. She could always read him. “Can we meet for lunch?" "Sure,” she said slowly. She obviously picked up on the ominous tone. “Where?" “Doug’s Downtown Grill at one-thirty, if that’s okay." "Are you sure you don’t want me to meet you closer to your office?” “No. I have… some business to attend down there after lunch.” “I'll be there then. See you in a bit." "Bye." They both hung up the phone. Jerry twirled the key in his hand, again. Sighing, he put it in his pocket. *** Doug’s Downtown Grill was located on Main Street in the historic section of Garden Grove. The restaurant was family owned and the food was wonderful from the baby back ribs that melted off the bones to the homemade desserts. It was crowded, but they didn’t have to wait too long for a table for two. Gillian was puzzled over why Jerry had asked her to meet him. He talked about the hospital and about the office, nothing that indicated his urgency to speak to her, and yet, she still felt he was dancing around what he truly wanted to say. Finally, after the waitress brought the check, Jerry pulled out a key and slid it across the table to her. "What's this?" She lifted her eyebrow. "A key to a safety deposit box." "Safety deposit box?” She still didn’t understand. "Zachary left something in it for you." "What... when?" "Right before he left. He had me promise not to say anything to you until the time seemed right. You were so upset when he left. Well, I just didn't want to add to it." Gillian stared at the key. Zachary had left something for her. She looked at Jerry now. "Do you know what he put in the box? Were you there?" Jerry nodded. "Yes, I was there." "Well, are you going to tell me or not?"

"Not." Jerry took out his wallet to pay the bill. "Come on. I'll go with you. You can see what's in there for yourself." Gillian’s hands were trembling when she signed the form to go into the vault. She let Jerry put the key into the box because she couldn't keep her hands steady. Once the teller had left them alone in the room, all she had to do was open it and the mystery would be solved. She couldn't seem to make her hands lift the lid. "What are you waiting for?" Jerry finally asked. "I can't. You do it." He did as she asked and pulled out the container so she could look inside. There was an envelope and next to it, she saw her wedding ring. She thought Zachary had taken it back with him. With trembling hands, she slipped the cool metal onto her finger, where it belonged. Next, she took the envelope out and opened it. There was a note with Zachary's neat penmanship covering the page. Dearest Gillian, I regret that we could not be together, but I want you to know how much I love you. That is why I had to let you go. I want you to find your dream. Jerry helped me take care of Tyler's hospital bill and there is an account for you. Jerry has it under his name for now. He assures me that he will help you transfer it over to your name as soon as you are ready. I couldn't very well open an account under my name without that number you need. I think it is called a social security number. Please, accept this gift. I also left you your wedding ring, for it could never belong to another. If you do not want it... well it is yours to do with as you wish. I will never forget you. Never... Yours truly and always, Zachary Creighton Gillian crushed the letter to her chest, her heart breaking all over again. She let the tears slide down her cheeks. "I knew it. I shouldn’t have told you about the box." "No." She reached for his hand. "No, I'm glad you did. I have something of his and something so much more." She sniffled and smiled at the same time. "He left me his heart,” she whispered. Jerry’s brow furrowed. “If you’re happy why are you crying?” “Haven’t you ever heard of tears of joy?” He still didn’t look convinced. "About the account, you need to sign the papers to have it transferred in your name.” "Where did he get the money?" "He sold his pocket watch." Guilt rolled through her at the sacrifice he had made. He had wanted to take care of her. "That was his grandfather’s watch." “He told me. He wanted to do this, Gillian. He told me you’d feel guilty.” She chuckled and wiped a tear away. “Did he now?” “Yeah. He knew you well, didn’t he?” Gillian’s chin angled up when she looked at him. “Yes, he did.” “He left you a large sum of money. That watch was worth a mint. About the papers —" Gillian held up her hand. "Not today. I just can't do it today. I want to go home."

"Sure. We can do it later." CHAPTER FORTY-ONE Dora showed Josephine Locke into the library. “Mr. Creighton is out back. Please, do make yourself comfortable while I go fetch him.” Josephine waited until she could no longer hear Dora’s footsteps. She dashed out of the library and up the stairs. She opened the first door she came to and went inside to investigate. She wanted to see if there was any indication that Gillian met an unsavory end. She swung open the oak armoire. Luck was on her side. She found what she was looking for: Gillian's clothes were still there. "I knew it!" Josephine shut the door with a frown. She spun around the room filled with only Gillian’s belongings. “Zachary didn’t sleep in here. How curious.” She didn’t have time to think about what this meant. She couldn’t let Zachary find her up here snooping around. She hurried back down stairs. She was still out of breath when Zachary walked in with a scowl on his face. “Oh it is ever so hot.” She waved her hand in front of her face and hoped he didn’t notice how her nerves were on edge. "What may I do for you, Madame Locke?” She dabbed her moist brow and Zachary’s eyes narrowed. Did he suspect she’d been nosing around? No, he couldn’t possibly know. "Just making a call. May I have something to drink?" she said fanning herself again. "I'll be right back with some tea." Dora disappeared, leaving Zachary alone with his unwanted guest. Josephine didn’t wait for Zachary to offer her a seat. She plopped right down on the sofa as though she was ready for a nice long chat. He removed his hat and ran his fingers through his dark hair while he waited for her to make her point. If anything, Zachary could portray a gentleman with ease. "I have started a quilting project with the women in town." She paused to take a breath. "What does this have to do with me?" She’d better make her point and leave before Zachary lost his temper. "Nothing. I wanted to ask Gillian to join our little group. When will she be back? You really didn’t answer me when I asked you the other day." She watched him closely, looking for a sign. It was slight, but she was sure for a split second he had lost his composure. "I don't believe that's any of your concern when my wife will return. But if you want me to, I'll have her call on you the minute she does. Now good-day, Madame Locke." Josephine was taken aback for a moment; she hadn't expected Zachary to be so abrupt. He was hiding something. Now, she was sure of it. "Where is she?" she demanded to know. Zachary's eyes narrowed until his blue eyes were barely seen through the slits. "Where do you think she is?" "Don't play games with me, Zachary Creighton. I know how you treated her that first day. I should never have allowed you to marry her. This is something I shall forever regret. What did you do to her? Why won't you tell me where she is?" “I’ve had enough of your prying accusations. Do you really want to know?” He approached her, his face a mask of anger. "I got rid of her. Is that what you wanted to hear? You see I cannot stand meddling females and well..." He shrugged.

Josephine had already expected the worst, so it didn't take much for her overactive imagination to run wild. She also didn’t miss Zachary's threat behind his statement. She jumped to her feet. “How dare you.” “I believe you have overstayed your visit,” She glared at him, but he wouldn’t back down. She inhaled deeply. “Then I shall bid you good day, Mr. Creighton.” “And to you.” He bowed and swept his hand by him to dismiss her. She marched past him and out of the house. “Oh this is not over, Mr. Creighton,” she mumbled under her breath. He couldn’t threaten her and expect her to keep quiet. Dora arrived with the tea to find Zachary alone and grinning like a fool. "Where did Madame Locke run off to?” "Said something about making a quilt." He left Dora standing there, mystified over what had just transpired. He knew he should have made up a story why Gillian had left him, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. Saying the words would make it all too real that he would never see her again. Besides, seeing the nosey Josephine Locke all flustered and tongue-tied made his day. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO "I swear to you, as I am sitting here." Josephine began the story while each woman worked on a section of the quilt. "Zachary Creighton threatened me. He pretty much said, if I didn’t mind my own business, he’d do me in." "Oh, come on, Josephine. Surely, you don't believe Mr. Creighton murdered his own wife." "Well, if he didn’t, why the mystery of where she is? You tell me that Carol Ann." She didn’t have an answer. "We do know what Zachary did to Violet Ellsworth. I heard, she's gone quite mad,” Nancy, who was sitting next to Carol Ann, added. "I heard that story, too,” Yolanda said. “You mean to tell me it’s true.” “Quite true.” Nancy nodded. This added to the suspicions already formulating against Zachary, the old spinster woman of the group decided to speak up. She had a fancy for Zachary's father when she was young and vital, but he had out right rejected her. Everyone knew she hated all the Creighton’s for that slight. "Some of you are too young to remember, but Zachary's father wasn't any good, either. Bad blood, those Creightons. They're capable of doing anything." The five women at the quilting party continued with their gossiping. Their mind's racing about what Zachary might have done to his wife. *** "Zachary, you have to take this seriously. It could get out of hand." Ellery took the glass of scotch that his friend had handed him. "I have more important things to worry about than gossiping women." Zachary chuckled. "I didn't realize I had scared Madame Locke that severely. I still can't believe she started a rumor about me murdering Gillian." "It won't be a laughing matter if the sheriff takes a mind to listen. What are you going to tell him?"

"The truth." "You’re mad!" Ellery lifted his brows and shook his head. "I don't mean that I'll tell him that she traveled through time. I'll tell him she went home. I wouldn't be lying." Zachary threw back his head and finished his drink. He put down his glass. "Don't worry about it. As soon as the women have something else to gossip about, they'll forget all about me." Ellery brows furrowed. “Listen Ellery, if I’m not worried about this, you shouldn’t be either.” Ellery shook his head. “Fine, I’ll let the matter drop. So what is this I hear about you taking up with the books again?" "You've been talking to Lotti, no doubt." Zachary grinned, knowing full well that his grandmother had been bragging. "I had a passion for medicine before I became obsessed with gambling. I have decided to go down that path, again.” "I'm happy for you." Zachary decided to ask about Ellery's gallivanting life. "So, when do you plan on putting yourself in the real world? Hasn't your money run out yet?” "Never. I didn’t much care for the life as a lawyer. I'll be able to live my life out as a perfect gentleman, between my inheritance from Aunt Florentine from jolly ole England, and the money I won on the big race between the Natchez and the Robert E. Lee." Ellery grinned, obviously thinking this was the most marvelous accomplishment in the world. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE Zachary packed up the wagon for the trip over to Creighton Manor. He still needed to repair a few things and promised Tyler that he could go with him. Dora was good enough to pack them a lunch, knowing they wouldn’t be home until late. She handed the basket to Tyler and he immediately raced over to him. "Are you ready?” Zachary asked and Tyler nodded. They were on their way. Dora went back into the house and started her chores for the day. First, she wanted to do some well-needed laundry. She went out back to fetch the washbasin. *** The sun rose in the sky, a brilliant bright orb of light welcoming Violet Ellsworth into town. She was filthy to say the least. Every inch of her was caked in dirt and sweat. Her once lustrous red hair was matted to her head and her clothing was in desperate need of repair, but she had made it. She’d found her way back to Zachary Creighton. Violet watched Zachary leave the house. She was grateful she would have time to bathe before she dined with him. She let herself in and headed for the stairs. She entered the first room she came to and went over to the armoire. She needed to find a beautiful dress to wear. She caressed the lovely gowns, finally deciding on the blue one. She quickly changed out of her plain gray attire and into the clean silky garment. She picked up her discarded dress as she glanced around the room. Her eyes rested on the beautiful flowered brooch that was on the nightstand. She ran over to it, stopping short as she let her hand hover over the dear treasure. She slowly lifted it as the tears sprung to her eyes.

"He bought me a gift." She opened the clasp and pinned it to her dress. "I must go to him." She left what was once Gillian's room and crossed the hall. She didn’t even hesitate when she opened the door to Zachary’s room. Her eyes rested on the spacious bed that she would share with him once they were properly married. She walked over to it and rubbed her hand lovingly over the soft comforter. She was in his room. Finally, she was where she belonged. She let go of her old filthy dress she had been clutching and pulled back the covers on the bed. She slid beneath the sheets with a deep sigh. “Ah, ‘tis heaven.” She rolled over onto her stomach and put her hands under the pillow. She felt something cold and smooth at the tip of her fingers. She grasped the item and sat up to examine her prize. It was Zachary's knife. She ran her fingers lightly over the sharp blade. *** Dora came back into the house and went upstairs to Tyler’s room to see if he left any clothes on the floor. She was about to pass by Zachary's door but something halted her. She was sure the door had been closed when she had gone downstairs this morning. Now, it stood partly ajar. She cautiously entered the room to investigate. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the bedraggled woman sitting on Zachary's bed as though she was royalty. "See here. What do you think you’re doing?" Her voice startled the woman. She bolted off the bed and hid her hands behind her. Her eyes were glazed with unspoken insanity, but Dora didn’t recognize the danger and took a step toward her. “I know you, don’t I?” Dora told her. “Violet, is that you?” Violet's eyes narrowed and her voice rose as though she was being threatened in some way. "Who are you? How do you know me?” "Don't you know me, Violet?" Dora tried to remain calm, but the look in the woman’s eyes was not normal. Violet didn't like this intruder. The woman had the gall to waltz right into Zachary's room. The rage filled up inside of her until she was blinded by the dark anger. No other woman belonged here. Without warning, Violet let out a screech and lunged at the unexpected Dora. She raised the knife and slashed. The housekeeper let out an agonizing scream before she crumpled to the floor, clutching at her stomach. Violet stood there for a moment just staring into space and humming a little tune she remembered from her childhood. She glanced down at her hand and saw the wet sticky substance covering it. Confused at first, then she remembered about the woman who had startled her. She stared at her still body sprawled at her feet. Strange and disquieting thoughts began to race through her mind. It finally registered what had happened. An icy fear clutched her heart, causing her to gasp and pant in terror. She spun around not knowing what to do. She spotted her old dress on the floor. A part of her recognized it, but another part of her mind wanted to block out the horrible truth from her. She grabbed the garment and bolted from the room and down the stairs. She was out of the house and kept on running. "What have I done? What have I done?" She ran as the primitive warning in her brain told her she had to keep going to survive. She ran until her chest felt as if it would burst and her legs wouldn’t obey her. She collapsed at the water's edge. She plunged her hands into the

cool liquid and scrubbed them until her skin was raw. There was so much blood. "Come off!" she demanded, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, she couldn’t seem to rinse the red blood from her hands. She jerked to her feet and started running again until she had gone farther down river to where the water was deeper and the current was swifter. She had to rid herself of the blood. She jumped into the water, the current dragging her under. She let go of the dress she had been clutching as she desperately fought to come up for air and keep afloat. For a split second, sanity returned to her and she remembered the horrible deeds that were hers. Terrible regrets assailed her and the last traces of resistance vanished; she struggled, no more. Instead, she let the cool water pool over her. She began to sink, the sky disappearing above her as she used anguish as a rock to weigh her down. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR Zachary finished replacing the roof hinges and climbed down the ladder. The sun was setting behind Creighton Manor and he knew he would lose light soon. He needed to pack up for the day. He was about to search for Tyler, when he spotted Sheriff Pete Johnson and his deputy Luke Vincent riding toward him. Zachary removed his hat and scratched his head, wondering what brought them all the way out here to see him. He placed his hat back on before he greeted the two men. "Hello, Pete. Luke." Luke nodded his head. He was a large man with eyes that were too small for his head. He had course black hair that stood up straight. He always seemed to have two to three day’s growth of hair on his face and he looked like he slept in his clothes. He didn't say much, which didn’t help his already ominous appearance. Zachary could only count a few words that the man had ever uttered. He mostly nodded or grunted his answers. Zachary knew Luke to be pretty handy with a firearm too. This was probably what landed him the job as one of the deputies. It definitely wasn’t for his people skills. Sheriff Pete Johnson was not a small man to say the least, but he had a pleasant face and an easygoing disposition, unless provoked. What Luke lacked in conversation, Pete made up in tenfold. The man could carry on a conversation even if you were stone deaf. He was also an honest lawman, which was sometimes hard to come by these days. Pete tipped his hat back. "Hello, Zachary." His voice was pleasant but the stress lines on his forehead let Zachary know this wasn’t a social call. "We need to ask you to come with us." "Is there a problem, Pete?" Zachary wasn't going anywhere without at least an explanation. "There has been an attempt..." He hesitated for a moment. “God, I hate this part of my job.” Zachary frowned. “What is it Pete?” He cleared his throat. “Dora was attacked." Zachary's faced paled. "Attacked? How? By whom? Is she all right?" The two lawmen exchanged an unreadable look before Pete answered him. "Dora has been critically injured." "I'll go and get Tyler. My God, Dora." Zachary turned to leave, but Pete stopped him.

"You don't understand what I'm saying. We're taking you in." "For what?" Zachary shouted with impatience. "You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Dora and for the possible murder of your wife." Zachary stared dumbfounded. This must be some sick joke, only no one was laughing. "Why on earth would I hurt Dora and as for Gillian, dear God, you think that I'd harm my own wife?" "We have a reliable source who says you threw a knife at Gillian in a fit of rage, and now it seems she has disappeared. Can you tell us where she is? We can clear that matter up right away." Zachary knew who the reliable source was and he could kick himself for encouraging Josephine Locke to think the worst of him. "Gillian is visiting family... abroad." "I see,” Pete said. Zachary could tell by the way the two men eyed him that they didn’t believe him. "Why aren't you looking for who attacked Dora instead of pointing a finger at me?" "Because Zachary, it was your knife we found next to Dora’s body." “Stabbed?” Zachary's jaw dropped in disbelief. “Hell and damnation,” he murmured, nervously rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. Dora had been stabbed with his knife. No wonder, Pete and Luke were here. What were they supposed to think, especially with Josephine adding her own story to destroy his character? "Will you come peaceably or do we have to take you by force?" Pete waited for his answer, while Luke grunted and put his hand on the butt of his colt. Zachary had no doubt that Luke would use the weapon if he so much as batted his eyes the wrong way. "I will go with you, but I don’t want to frighten Tyler. I would ask that you don’t tie my hands. Please allow me to contact Lotti to take Tyler while I straighten up this misunderstanding." "I have your word that you will not run?" Zachary nodded. "You have my word." Luke grunted and looked almost disappointed that he wasn’t going to have the chance to use his weapon. *** Zachary was immediately escorted to a cell with one cot, table, chair, and a pot to relieve oneself if the need arose. Zachary cringed when the door to the cell clanked shut, leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts. He sat down on the cot. He wasn't sure what he was going to do. Pete made it perfectly clear that there were no other suspects for the attempted murder of Dora. Since his housekeeper wasn’t in a position to tell them who had attacked her, Zachary would be held accountable for the deed. Pete had been kind enough to bring Tyler over to Lotti’s asking her to contact Ellery for him. When he heard the murmuring of voices, he sat up straight. Unfortunately, he couldn’t make out what was being discussed. Finally the talking ceased and the men entered. He relaxed when he saw Ellery. Luke followed behind and opened the door, promptly locking the cell once Ellery was inside. The man then left them alone.

Zachary didn’t care for Ellery’s expression. It only confirmed that his predicament wasn’t good. Ellery removed his bowler hat, placing it on the table before he pulled out the chair and sat down. He took a deep breath before he spoke. "You are in trouble, my friend." "You can straighten it out. Can't you?" "I don't think you understand. You’re not only being held for the attempted murder of Dora, but also for the murder of your wife." Zachary jumped to his feet and started pacing. "How can they do that? That's completely ludicrous. If there isn't a body, how are they able to hold me for her murder?" "There's a witness who swears you confessed to foul play." Zachary whirled around to face him, his eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about? What witness? You don’t mean Josephine Locke?" "Yes, Josephine Locke. Didn’t I warn you? You shouldn’t have provoked her, but you didn't listen. She has everyone believing you tried to kill Gillian on the day you two were married, and she swears that you threatened her personally. The old busy body has convinced not only the ladies of the town, but now the sheriff is having serious doubts of your innocence. They all want to know where Gillian is, and the sheriff wants proof that she is alive and well. That means, my dear friend, she needs to show herself. However, we both know that is impossible." Zachary sat down on the cot and leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. "This doesn’t look good, does it?" "Isn't that what I have been telling you? If Dora succumbs to her injury without naming her assailant, you will be the one that will be put on trial." "I could hang if I'm found guilty," Zachary stated. "That's exactly what will happen. If I didn't know better, with all the evidence stacked up against you, I'd think you were guilty." CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE Gillian sat up in bed, shaking. Sweat poured down her face, while her heart raced and threatened to shatter as the fearful images came crashing down on her. Something horrible was going to happen. “Zachary!” She threw the covers off her bed and went to the bathroom turning on the light. She ran the faucet and splashed cold water on her face, trying to tell herself that it was just a silly dream. But what if it wasn’t? A cold knot formed in her stomach. She quickly turned off the faucet and picked up the towel. What could she do? Zachary lived in another century. He had already lived. To the world, he had died a long time ago. Zachary could never be truly dead to her. She had lived with him, touched him, laughed with him and even argued with him. He wasn't dead, not really. He was just living in another space and time, very much alive and in danger. She felt this in every fiber of her being. She had to know. She had to find out what happened to him. She put down the towel and went into the kitchen, turning on lights as she went. Grabbing the phone, she glanced at the

clock on the wall. It was three o’clock in the morning. She couldn’t call Samantha. She was spending the night at her parent’s so she could help her mom paint the bonus room. Samantha was out of the question but... she bit her lip, wondering if she should call. She punched in the numbers before she changed her mind. Four rings and Jerry finally picked up. She could hear him fumbling with the receiver before he croaked his greeting. "Hello." "Jerry, did I wake you?" She knew that she had. "Gillian?” "Yes, it's Gillian. I need your help." "What's wrong? Something happen? Are you hurt? Jesus, it’s just past three in the morning. Just stay calm. Let me throw on a pair of jeans and I'll be right there." "Jerry? Jerry?" Gillian could hear him moving around his room. She knew he wasn’t listening to her. He must have put the phone down. "Jerry!" she yelled. Finally, she heard him pick up the phone again. "I'm here. Is there any bleeding, shortness of breath?” She could imagine him running around the room, throwing on his clothes and hunting for his shoes. “What exactly is the matter? I just have to put on my tennis shoes.” "Jerry, I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with me. It's Zachary." She heard a thump and she guessed he dropped his shoe. "Zachary? Did you say Zachary?” "I had a dream and..." "Excuse me?" Jerry interrupted. "Let me get this straight. I'm here rushing around my room throwing on my clothes thinking you are bleeding to death or something, but you called me in the middle of the night to discuss a dream you had? Let me sit down for this." "I know what you’re thinking... " "You have no idea what I'm thinking." His voice raised an octave. She could tell he wasn’t pleased with being roused out of a peaceful slumber and she couldn’t blame him. "I'm sorry. I'll let you get back to sleep.” "Don't you dare hang up. You better tell me what made you call me so early in the morning or I'll be down at your place breaking down the door." She sighed. "I need you to help me find out what happened to Zachary. I have to find him. I have to know that he is all right and that he lived a full happy life." "Why? What would be the point?” She didn’t answer. “Gillian, it may not be a good idea. What happens if you find out something you don't want to know?” "I'll deal with that when the time comes." She sniffled. “Ah, come on, Gillian. Don’t do this. Don’t cry.” He swore softly under his breath. “Okay, I’m an insensitive ass. I'll help you find out what happened to Zachary." "You will?" She sniffled again. "I said that I would. You didn't want me to help you this second, did you?" "No, later today would be fine. Thanks Jerry. You don't know how much this means to me." Jerry yawned. "Oh, I think I do. I'll talk to you tomorrow... or rather later today. Good night." "Good night... sorry I woke you." She hung up first. Gillian couldn’t go back to sleep. She was still shaken by her dream of Zachary. She prayed it wasn’t something that truly had happened. Staring into the darkness, she sat down on the couch. She picked up one of the throw pillows and hugged it close to her. As much as she

wanted to put the thoughts of her dream out of her mind, she couldn't. Her heart pounded against her chest and panic like she’d never known before welled in her throat as she recalled the image of Zachary swinging from a rope. "It can't be true,” she said aloud, as if this would put her at ease, but instead her voice echoed without conviction. *** Samantha stood and looked over the library monitor. "Please tell me what we are looking for? I just spent a long day painting a room the size of a three-car garage. I’m working on overtime.” "I’m looking for anything that has to do with the town, Natchez, Mississippi, Creighton Manor or anything..." Gillian concentrated on the terminal screen. "Yes, I know that, but what else? I can tell that you're searching for a specific something." Jerry stopped what he was doing and stared at her, too. Gillian had no other choice. "Okay, already. I had a disturbing dream and I’m trying to find proof that it didn’t happen." She took a ragged breath. "I'm scared. I’m so scared.” “Of what? Tell us,” Samantha encouraged. "The dream, a nightmare really; it was so vivid that I’m afraid that there was some truth to it.” She looked up at her friends, her green eyes revealing her pain as the icy fear twisted around her heart. “Remember the last time we saw Zachary. He was across the vortex and Molly was barking, frantically. I know now that I was supposed to go, but I hesitated and the door closed. I’ve concluded that the doors to the past must only stay open for a certain amount of time, like a revolving door popping open in different spots. When I tried to go through the last time, I felt like I hit a brick wall." "So maybe you weren't supposed to go," Jerry said without conviction. “You know that isn’t true.” Gillian shook her head. "Somehow Molly is connected to all this. She’s the key and she was trying to tell me to go, but I refused to listen. The first time I traveled back, it was like a dream. I haven’t figured out how and I probably will never understand it fully, but I know it was Molly who led me through space and time. When we crossed over to Hoag Hospital, it was simple as walking across the street. As the door starts to close, it becomes difficult to pass through.” She covered her face with her hands. “Why did I hold back when I had the chance to go?” Samantha walked over to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders, giving her a quick hug. "Why don't you tell us about your dream, so we can get a better idea of what you are trying to find, or rather not find." Gillian lowered her hands and swallowed. "Zachary was sentenced to hang and somehow I am responsible. I know if I had been there he would have been all right, that it wouldn’t have happened." Jerry leaned forward resting his arms on the table. "It may only be your subconscious talking because you’re missing him. Maybe you are putting a little too much into this?” Samantha shook her head, coming to Gillian's defense. "I don’t think so. She has a link with this man. For God's sake, she dreamt about him before they met." Jerry looked confused, since this was the first he heard of her dreams. "You've dreamt about him before? What are you talking about?" Gillian rubbed her face. "I didn't know it was him at first, in my dream I had never seen the man's face. When I met Zachary, there was an immediate connection as if I belonged with

him. I didn't understand it then, but now I do. Zachary was the one I had been waiting for. He confirmed it on the last day that I saw him. Just before he faded away, he said the words I had been longing to hear; the only words that the man in my dream has spoken to me." A hurt expression flickered across Jerry’s face, making Gillian realize what she had said. “Jerry …” He held up his hand to halt her apology. “Don’t say it,” he told her. She knew he must feel a little pang of betrayal, but she had to set things right. He had Samantha now. His relationship with her was different… closer would be how she would describe it. Even though, She and Jerry had a caring relationship, there was a respected distance between them. If they had taken the time to think about it, they would have realized from the start that they weren’t suited to spend a lifetime together. They had friendship but no passion. “Jerry—” “It’s okay, Gillian. I get it.” He turned his attention to Samantha. He smiled and leaned across the table to give Samantha's hand an affectionate squeeze. He faced Gillian then. The pain was gone, replaced with determination. "Then we best start looking for this man of yours and hope your dream wasn’t a premonition." “Thank you. You know he means—" “I know.” Jerry nodded. The three looked for hours through books, the Internet— everything that the library had to offer. There wasn't any mention of a Zachary Creighton or Creighton Manor. Gillian sat back in her chair completely frustrated. "I have to go there,” she suddenly announced. Both Jerry and Samantha exchanged worried looks. "It's the only way for me to find out about him. Surely, they will have a more accurate record of what happened there. There's one other place I can check, too." Gillian paused and licked her dry lips. She didn't want to, but she knew it would be evidence. "I could check the cemetery. If I saw the date he..." She couldn't say it even though she knew he would have a place there already. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Zachary had died a long time ago. Jerry cleared his throat. “It’s difficult for us to think of Zachary in the past tense, too, but you’re right. You should go. It might be the best way to find out the information you want. In the mean time, I have another idea." "You do?" Gillian raised an eyebrow. "Since Tyler is, well was," Jerry corrected himself, “my relative, maybe I can find some information at my parent's house. My dad keeps old papers and things about the family out in the garage. He has the tendency to be a bit of a pack rat. If there is any mention of what became of Zachary Creighton, it just might be in that old stuff." "I'll come with you and help," Samantha offered. Gillian smiled. "You two are the best." She rose from her seat. "One more favor, will one of you pick up my mail while I'm gone?" "No problem." Jerry nodded. CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Judge Turloff was a man of impeccable character. He took his job seriously and wanted to uphold the law. He felt he had never convicted a man that didn’t rightly deserve it, but now... He took his time looking over the evidence of this new case. Zachary Creighton was brought into his courtroom for trial. He had spoken with Creighton at length. He liked the man and believed him to be innocent of the charges that were brought against him. Of course, there was no proof other than his gut feelings on this matter. The evidence on the other hand was overwhelmingly stacked against him. Again, he went over the damning evidence in his mind: Josephine Locke’s testimony, the wife missing, and Creighton’s knife used to stab Dora Chandler. Dora was barely holding on to life by a thread. Creighton claimed that he kept the knife under his pillow and didn’t know who would have known it was there. Nor could he give any enlightenment as to who would have wanted to harm his housekeeper. As far as Judge Turloff could find out, Creighton held no ill will toward Dora Chandler. Robbery could have been the motive, but nothing was taken from the home. If only the woman would regain consciousness to tell them who attacked her, but her doctor gave little hope for that. He was sure it was only a matter of time before the poor woman would succumb to her fate. She would have been dead already if Josephine Locke hadn’t paid a call to the home and found her. The matter of Creighton's missing wife bothered him the most. When he asked Creighton pointblank if he had murdered his wife, he denied it with such fervor that again he felt Creighton spoke the truth. He had asked Creighton to tell him where his wife was, but he had refused to give him an answer. If he would contact his wife and have her show herself, he might be able to look further into the attempted murder of Dora Chandler. However, without Zachary's cooperation, his vague story of where his wife was residing left him with no choice. He had to agree to go ahead with the trial. He slammed his fist on his desk. Zachary Creighton would be found guilty of that, he was certain. At this moment, he didn’t care for his job. He would have to live with the awful feeling of sending an innocent man to his death. *** Arthur Mann, assigned to the prosecution looked over his notes before he glanced up at the witness. "Can you state to the jury what Zachary Creighton told you Madame Locke?" He leaned against his table. Zachary knew the young lawyer had reviewed the evidence against him and if the man’s smug expression was any indication, he believed he would win this case. He was only going through the motions. "I most certainly will." Josephine was very eager to tell her story. "I was at Zachary's home and he threatened me." "Threatened you," the young lawyer stressed looking at the jury. He then looked back to Josephine Locke. "Why don't you tell us exactly what he said.” "When I asked him where Gillian was, he said that he got rid of her. He said that he didn't stand for meddling females. He glared at me the whole time with those piercing, blue eyes of his. Of course, I knew what he was implying. He didn't like me meddling either and if I didn’t watch my step I would—"

"I object!" Ellery jumped to his feet. "Your honor, Madame Locke is speculating what Zachary had meant by his words." "Point taken." The judge nodded. He looked at Josephine. "Repeat only the conversation that you had with Mr. Creighton and do not add your own conjectures." Josephine nodded. Arthur Mann walked around the table and approached Josephine. "There was another thing that you noticed. Zachary stated his wife was visiting her relatives. Why do you have strong belief that this is false?" "Because Gillian didn’t take any of her clothes with her." "And how do you know this?" Josephine pulled at the collar of her dress. "I came to call and while Dora went outside to find Zachary, I went upstairs and checked out things myself. Her drawers were full and she had dresses still hanging upon the pegs. It didn't look like she had packed a single item." Josephine sat back in her chair with a satisfied look, daring Zachary to say anything about her uninvited snooping. Arthur Mann smiled and sauntered over to the jury. "Don't you find that odd?” He raised his hands in a shrug. “Zachary claims his wife is away visiting family, yet the woman doesn’t pack a trunk. Think about this gentleman. Would any of your wives leave town without their personal belongings? I don't think they would." The jury nodded their heads in agreement to what Mann had presented to them. Zachary hoped Ellery could think of something to sway their opinion back to his side. The eager, young lawyer was not going to make this an easy task. "That's all, your honor." Arthur Mann went back to his seat. The judge looked to Ellery. Ellery stood and walked over to the witness stand. "Josephine, could it be possible that Gillian might have clothing with the relatives, she was going to visit?” "Well, I... I suppose so," Josephine said slowly. "How was it Josephine that you happened to have access to Gillian Creighton's room? Did Zachary give you permission to make your own investigation?" "Objection!" The young lawyer jumped up from his seat. "Your honor, I don't see what difference it makes if Zachary gave his permission to go upstairs or not." The judge waved his hand. "Please, stay with the facts of the case, Mr. Livingston." "I am trying to establish the character of this witness, which I feel is vitally important to this case." "All right then. Objection overruled, but proceed cautiously," Judge Turloff warned. Ellery turned his attention back to Josephine. "Please, answer the question. Did Zachary give you permission to go upstairs?" "Well no, but—" Ellery didn't allow her to finish her statement. "No, is a good enough answer. So as a good and upstanding person, you felt it your right to go into Zachary's home and sneak around without permission?" "You have it all wrong—" "I do? I thought, you said that you did not have permission." Josephine was red with anger. “You’re twisting what I said. I won’t play your fool, Mr. Livingston.”

Ellery continued with a new approach. "Let's go on to another question, shall we? Can you tell me what Zachary said to you, that you were so sure he had done some harm to his wife?" She pierced her lips together. “You must answer the question, Madam Locke,” Judge Turloff informed her. She harrumphed. "Well, he wouldn't tell me when Gillian was going to return. He acted very odd about it." Josephine glared a Zachary. "Oh, I see. It's all clear to me now." Ellery tapped his head drawing Josephine’s attention back to him. "Zachary would not give you the information when Gillian would return. This translates into he murdered her?" His sarcasm was not missed. Zachary concealed a hint of a smile behind his hand. There were unsuppressed chuckles from the people in the courtroom. The judge was not pleased and hit the gavel down on the desk. "Silence in the courtroom." "No, that's not what it means!" Josephine voice rose with frustration. "It was all the things put together that made me suspicious." "Tell us, please." Ellery leaned against the table, folding his arms in front of him. He waited for Josephine to continue. "Well... " Josephine paused as if unsure where to begin. "Well... there was the statement of Tyler’s. He said she's in a better place. What else could that mean? You only say that when someone has passed on." "Really? Why I can think of plenty of places that are far better than here and it has nothing to do with the afterlife." The murmurs in the courtroom unsettled Josephine’s composure, making her desperate to be heard. “If he didn't kill her, why doesn't he tell all of us where she is?” She stood and pointed her finger at Zachary. "Prove your innocence, Zachary Creighton and have Gillian show her face in this courtroom." Judge Turloff pounded the gavel against the desk. "That will be all, Madame Locke. Be seated this instant." "That's all right your honor,” Ellery said. “I’m through questioning the witness.” Zachary breathed a sigh of relief that Ellery wouldn’t provoke Josephine Locke further. That last outburst wouldn’t help him. Ellery returned to the table and took a seat. "You may step down." Judge Turloff waved to Josephine. She stepped down from the witness stand. Lifting her chin ever so slightly, she went back to her seat. Judge Turloff looked at Arthur Mann. "Call your next witness." The young lawyer stood. "I would like to call Zachary Creighton to the stand." "I object!" Ellery immediately jumped to his feet. Zachary wiped his damp palms on his pant legs. What was Arthur Man up to? The murmuring rose again until the judge hit the gavel down once more. "Silence now or I will remove every one of you from this courtroom." The room stilled. "Now, Mr. Livingston on what grounds do you object?" "That my client is distraught over this whole ordeal and is not up to being unduly questioned." Everyone knew Ellery was grasping at straws, but Zachary gave him credit for trying. "Your honor, you would think Mr. Creighton would jump at the chance of saying something to clear his name," the young lawyer stated, looking at Ellery, daring him to say something to the contrary.

Judge Turloff spoke before Ellery could say anything. "I believe Mr. Creighton should have his say. Objection is overruled. Zachary Creighton, please approach the bench.” Zachary reluctantly rose from his seat and approached the witness stand. He lifted his right hand to be sworn in. After the formalities, Arthur Mann approached him. "Tell us Mr. Creighton, were you forced to get married?" "Objection!" Ellery shouted. "Overruled!" the judge shot back with a warning look. He looked at Zachary. "You will answer the question." Zachary already felt a foreboding over the interrogation and they hadn't even begun. He answered, "Yes." "Did you pull a knife on Gillian before you two were wed?" Zachary blinked in surprise. Obviously, Arthur Mann had done his homework. "I can explain— " "A simple yes or no will suffice." Blood pounded in his temples, knowing his answer would inch him closer to conviction. “We’re waiting, Mr. Creighton.” "Yes." Most of the men on the jury frowned their obvious disapproval. Arthur then walked over to his table and opened a box. He took out a knife and raised it above his head for all to see. "Is this the knife you pulled on your wife? Is this the very knife that you plunged into Dora?" Ellery again jumped up from his seat. "I object!" "Let me rephrase my question then." Arthur headed him off. "Is this the knife you pulled on your wife and is this, the very knife that someone,” he over exaggerated the word someone, “...used on Dora?" Dread weighed down Zachary, his answer choking in his throat. "Yes." "What was that?” He took his hand and cupped his ear. “We didn’t hear you. Please, repeat your answer, a little louder this time." "Yes." Again, Zachary saw the jury give him a disapproving frown before they turned and whispered among themselves. The lawyer put down the knife. "How was your marriage?" "Good as one can make it." Zachary squirmed in his seat. "That's why you and your wife didn’t share the same room?" Hell and damnation, how did he know about their living arrangement? Then it dawned on him how he came by his information. His gaze riveted to Josephine Locke, who stared back with her pious attitude, condemning him. Why couldn’t the old biddy mind her own business? He looked back at Arthur Mann. "There's an explanation—" Again, the lawyer interrupted. "Just answer the question. Did you and your wife sleep in separate rooms? A yes or a no, please." Zachary had no choice but to answer. "Yes.” The lawyer approached the witness stand so that he stood directly in front of Zachary. His brown eyes narrowed. "Where is Gillian Creighton?" "I told you, she's visiting relatives." Zachary met his penetrating stare without wavering. "Was your wife an excellent swimmer?" "What?" Zachary was taken aback by this sudden change in questioning. Ellery jumped to his feet, but Judge Turloff held up his hand for him to remain silent. "Mr. Mann, do you mind telling us why we need to know this?"

"It is imperative that everyone knows. You will see later, I assure you." "I better or you will suffer the consequences.” He waved his hand to the young lawyer. “You may continue then." Arthur repeated the question. "Was Gillian Creighton an excellent swimmer? Yes or no, please." "Yes," Zachary answered, uneasily for he couldn’t figure out what the man was up to. Arthur didn't elaborate further. Instead, he deliberately moved away. "That's all for this witness." The judge looked at Ellery to begin his questioning. Ellery rose. He looked at Zachary. "You’re on the stand and you have sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. You do understand this?" Zachary nodded. "Yes." Ellery returned the nod. "Do you love Gillian Creighton?" "With all my heart." He didn’t hesitate. Ellery moved to the front of his table before he spoke. "Did you murder Gillian Creighton?" "No, I did not." Zachary’s voice was loud and clear. "Thank you." He looked at the judge. "That will be all." "Mr. Mann, anymore questions for this witness?" Judge Turloff asked. "No, your honor. The witness may step down." Zachary went back to his seat. He glanced behind him and smiled wanly at his grandmother and Tyler. Tyler leaned over the rail so that he could talk to his uncle. "Why do they all think you hurt Aunt Gillian? Why don't you tell them she's in—" Zachary put his finger to his lips. "Shush. We talked about this. We can't tell them where Aunt Gillian is because they wouldn't understand. You have to keep it a secret?" Tyler nodded, but it was obvious he was disappointed that he couldn't say something to the judge that would help. He sat back down next to his grandmother. Zachary hated that the boy feared he would be taken away from him. Arthur Mann looked at his notes then stood. "I would like to call my next witness, George Martin." Zachary and Ellery exchanged looks, neither one knew who this next witness was. They turned their heads to the back of the room. The man emerged from behind the crowd of bystanders. He was an old geezer with a gray scraggly beard that covered his face. His hair was long and stringy and it looked like he had not bathed in months. He made his way to the front to be sworn in. "Mr. Martin, please tell us what you found near the river," Mr. Mann questioned. "I be out by the river mindin' my own business, when I saw somethin' floatin' in the water. At first, I thoughts it was only a piece of clothin', but as I neared, I could see it ain't. It ‘twas a body. I ran as quickly as I could, but weren't any reason to hurry. The woman ‘twas dead. She was face down in the water and bloated like—" Arthur cleared his throat. "You don't have to be explicit on the description of the deceased. Just tell us what you discovered." "Bein' I couldn't do nothin’ for the lass, I decided I better brings her into town. When I turned her over, I seen it. It be a brooch pinned to her blouse. I took it, so's I could possibly locate her family. They's surely be wonderin' what happened to her." "Where is the brooch, now?" Arthur asked as he neared the bench. From his pocket, Mr. Martin pulled out the item in question. "Here," he said.

"The brooch had an inscription on the back." "And what does it say?" Arthur turned and looked directly at Zachary as he waited for George to enlighten the court of the inscription. "To my love, Creighton. Is what it says." Zachary’s shoulders sagged. Arthur Mann had him right where he wanted him. Arthur kept his gaze locked with Zachary's as he asked his next question. "Can you tell the court what color hair the woman you found had?" "Yep. Her hair be reddish color." Arthur Mann smiled. "Red." Still looking at Zachary, he repeated what the court had already heard. "Gillian Creighton had red hair. This woman did too, and not only that, she was wearing a brooch that gives her identity. We have proof now that Gillian Creighton is not visiting relatives but has been murdered." "I object." Ellery jumped to his feet. "We have proved nothing here. We will have to make a positive identification of the body first." "That is fine. We can do that." Zachary ran his hand through his hair. Of course Arthur would be willing since he was convinced the woman had to be his missing wife. "Let me rephrase what I was saying." Arthur paced and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Then he looked up and addressed the jury. "Let's say that the deceased is Gillian Creighton." He looked at Ellery and added, "We're only speculating, that is." He then turned his attention to the jury. "We all have heard how Gillian Creighton, the angel of the night saved Zachary from the river. She was an excellent swimmer. You heard her own husband state that she was. Seems mighty strange that if the deceased proves to be Gillian Creighton, that she would succumb to drowning." Arthur looked back to the witness. "Thank you Mr. Martin. I have no more questions." A buzz filled the air as the people discussed this new piece of evidence. Zachary wanted to scream his innocence but how could he? Even to him, he sounded guilty. Ellery looked at Zachary, his grim expression saying it all. He couldn’t question the witness. He knew the brooch had belonged to Zachary's mother and Zachary had given the brooch to Gillian. Ellery leaned near Zachary so he could whisper without anyone overhearing him. "Please, tell me the brooch was stolen?" Zachary shook his head. "I'm afraid that I haven’t seen it since I gave it to Gillian.” Ellery sat back in his seat. “If there had been any hope of having you acquitted of the charges, the idea is out of the question now. For God’s sake, they have a body. It doesn’t matter that we know the woman they found couldn’t possibly be Gillian. There isn’t a person in the room that would ever believe it. I can’t believe all the incriminating evidence that’s stacking up left and right. We need a miracle and now.” Zachary looked at the each of the jurymen's faces and saw their loathsome view of him mirrored in their eyes. He knew without a doubt that they were ready to convict him today. He felt his throat constrict. It was almost as if the rope had already been put around his neck. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Ellery made a trip to Judge Turloff's home. He had to try at least one more time to convince the judge of Zachary's innocence. "You saw the body. You, yourself said that her features were undetectable," Judge Turloff stated as he handed Ellery a glass of brandy. "We have to go with the facts: Gillian Creighton is missing; the woman found fits her description even without the features of her face. The woman had red hair, was about the same height, and built. She was wearing a piece of jewelry that had Creighton's name scrawled on it. The only thing that would prove she was not Gillian Creighton would be for the corpse to sit up and tell us she was someone else." "I know that it’s not Gillian Creighton," Ellery insisted. Judge Turloff had a hunch that Ellery knew Gillian’s whereabouts. The question was why everyone was keeping it a secret? When all they had to do was produce the woman. Then all this could be cleared up. "Bring Gillian Creighton to me." He decided to ask one more time. Ellery sighed heavily. “I wish I could.” He looked at the judge. "I would love nothing more than to march Gillian into the courtroom, but I can't." Judge Turloff did his best to retain his affability, but he was losing his patience. "Then unfortunately, Mr. Livingston, we have nothing more to discuss." *** Zachary sat on the cot with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on the palm of his hand. He watched Ellery pace a new path in his cell. They were about to go back into the courtroom without one shred of evidence that would help the case. They both heard the guard open the outer door, making Ellery stop in mid stride. Zachary stood. Lotti and Tyler walked ahead of the guard and waited until he unlocked the cell so that they could enter. As soon as Tyler could, he immediately ran into Zachary's welcoming arms. He wept and Zachary tried to comfort him, but he knew there was nothing he could say to relieve his worries. Zachary saw the irony in all this. He hadn’t allowed the one person who could clear his name to come back with him. If only he had followed his heart. Over Tyler’s head, he met Lotti’s gaze. The old woman had been right after all. Home was not where you laid the foundation of a house, as he once had thought. Home was where your heart dwelled. Unfortunately, he had left his heart behind in another century. "Tyler?" Ellery called gently with an offer of a handkerchief. The boy half turned. He sniffled and gratefully took the cloth. He then sat down on the cot. He wasn’t crying but his lip was quivering. Tyler looked younger than his six years. How was this little boy expected to understand the injustice of this trial? Ellery knelt in front of Tyler. "I know this is hard for you. We all have to try to be strong. Your uncle will need all our support, so he knows that we love him." Tyler sniffled. "Uncle Zachary didn't hurt anyone. Why didn't you tell them? Dora was fine when we left the house. I saw her wave to us. And Uncle Zachary would never hurt Aunt Gillian. Everyone is saying such awful things that just aren’t true. They can't hang him for something he didn't do. Can they?"

Ellery swallowed hard. "Tyler, sometimes people don't want to hear the truth. They see and hear what they want to." "So, they think he's done all those terrible things?” "Yes, but as long as you know they aren’t true, that's what is important." Ellery glanced at Zachary with pain filled eyes. Zachary placed his hand on Ellery's shoulder squeezing it gently. Lotti finally stepped forward. "Ellery would you mind if I talked to Zachary alone for a moment?" "Not at all." Ellery stood and took Tyler's hand. "Let's go outside and get some fresh air." Ellery called for the guard. Lotti waited until they were gone before she spoke. "I've brought your favorite shirt. The one you called your lucky—" She put her hand to her mouth in horror. Zachary smiled and finished his grandmother's sentence. "My lucky shirt. Well, I do believe luck is exactly what I need just about now." "I'm sorry," Lotti said softly. "Don't worry about it, Seanmháthair." Lotti smiled now, too. "It’s back to grandmother is it?" Lotti sat down on the cot beside him. "May I ask a favor of you?" "You know you can." Lotti swallowed hard barely keeping the tears at bay. "Don't let Tyler forget the truth. He's young and with the gossip, he might—" "I won't let him forget." "Make sure..." His voice broke. "I want Tyler to know that I loved Gillian. I would have never hurt her." "He'll know. I promise you. He'll know," Lotti repeated. CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT Gillian stared unblinkingly at the gravestone. Her stomach knotted but the swell of pain was so severe that it was beyond tears. She had wanted proof and there it was chiseled in stone. What she had dreamed had actually happened, but could she hold on to the possibility that maybe it was still a premonition and she could change the outcome? She leaned forward and gently touched Zachary's name that had long ago been etched into the stone. "Did you find what you were looking for?" Gillian looked over her shoulder at the old man who helped her find the location of the grave. She nodded. She didn't trust her voice to answer. She then turned her attention back to the headstone, hoping the man would leave her alone. There was no such luck. "Is he some distant relative of yours?" Again, she nodded. She guessed the man couldn’t help but be curious since she had been so determined to find it. "Well, if that's the case, a little farther down this row there's another headstone with the last name of Creighton. My father had a story about those Creighton’s, but maybe I had better not tell you. You already seem a little upset." Gillian turned so abruptly, she startled the old man into taking a few steps back. "No, please tell me. I want to know."

He scratched his bald head and squinted up at her. Gillian wasn't sure, if it was from the sun, or if he was trying to decide if she was a lunatic. Finally he spoke. "Well the story goes... let me think a moment. Yes, it was said that Zachary Creighton murdered his wife and some other woman. I think it was the housekeeper, though I'm not so sure now. Anyway, Zachary Creighton claimed until his dying day that he was innocent of these crimes. No one believed him." The old man shook his head. Had Gillian heard him correctly? "You said he murdered his wife?" "Yes. He drowned her, if I remember right.” "They found a body?" Gillian was a little confused. The old man stared at Gillian, his eyes narrowing. "Of course they found the body. How else would they know that he drowned her?" Gillian tried to stay calm. She needed information and she didn’t want to scare away the only source. "And the other woman, he was supposed to have murdered?" "He stabbed her to death, if I am remembering it correctly. The man was obviously insane." "He is not!" Gillian defended him. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "I'm sorry. It's just that I have been researching my roots and well... who wants to find out you’re related to a murderer?” He nodded. "I see your point." "Will you show me that other grave?” "Sure, follow me." As they walked, Gillian continued to ask questions. "Did they hang this Zachary Creighton?" "They did just that." He glanced over his shoulder and added, "Maybe you could see some good came of that. Justice was served for your other relative. The one he drowned, that is." Gillian followed the old man, her heart beating against her chest. They had only walked a short distance when he stopped and pointed. Even though she knew it would be her name carved on the gravestone, she still wasn’t prepared to see it. She shivered despite the heat of the day. "Are you all right miss? You look like you've seen a ghost." Gillian looked at him. "In a sense, I have." CHAPTER FORTY-NINE Jerry and Samantha were going through the fourth box that was stored in the Avery's garage. They were flabbergasted that Jerry's father had kept so many items. The whole garage could never be used to store a car for it was covered from one wall to the other with boxes and crates. "We could be here all month and still never find anything. We don't even know if there is anything that will mention Zachary." Jerry brushed the hair out of his eyes and looked at Samantha. He smiled. “What are you grinning about?” “You have a little…” he leaned over and wiped her cheek. “You had a little smudge there.” He kissed her nose. “Yeah, you’re not so clean either.”

“I know you’re hot and tired. Me too. How about after this box, we stop for the day. We'll clean up and go over to the Irvine Spectrum to catch a movie. Sound all right with you?" "Just this box?” She pointed to the box at his feet. "Yep." Samantha nodded. “Deal.” She lifted the next bunch of papers, skimming over the pages as quickly as possible. If she didn't find anything that would help, she neatly placed the sheet to the side. She was so tired and wanted to be finished with this whole ordeal that she had almost missed it. She read the few sentences again, this time slowly. She realized that it was continued, but there wasn't anything on the next page. In her hurry to find the completion of the article, she dropped the remaining sheets on the floor. They scattered in every direction. She got on her hands and knees and started picking them up. "I found something!" She managed to croak. "I found something," she said again. Her hands were trembling. Jerry immediately moved to help. "What did you find?" He rummaged through the mess of papers, too. "At the bottom of the newspaper clipping, it mentioned Zachary's name, but it was continued on another page." They finally had all the sheets gathered and they sat down next to each other, quickly going through the jumbled mess. "I have it!" Samantha said excitedly and Jerry moved closer as she began to read the article. "Zachary Creighton was found guilty of the murder of his wife and housekeeper. Creighton sentenced to hang Friday at noon." Samantha and Jerry looked at each other. “Gillian's dream was true after all.” "How could it be?" Samantha shook her head. "Zachary would never hurt anyone." Her eyes filled with tears. Jerry took her hand and squeezed it tight. They both felt the loss of this man. In that short time he had been with them, he had become a dear friend. It didn’t matter that Zachary, in all sense, had died before they were ever born. They felt the pain as though the tragedy had happened only yesterday. No one would understand that to the both of them, it had. *** Jerry waited in the car, while Samantha ran over to Gillian's mailbox to retrieve her mail. Samantha was about to head back, but stopped cold. “Molly.” Samantha knelt down on one knee and lifted her hand to beckon her. Molly barked and ran to greet Samantha by throwing herself at her feet and rolling over. She petted her belly. "Good girl, Molly." She looked over her shoulder and saw Jerry was walking toward them. "What do you think it means?" she asked. "I think, it means that there's a chance the past can be changed." Jerry looked around for the time portal, but everything looked the same. "Why don't you take our guest inside Gillian's apartment and see if you can get a hold of her. You better tell her to take the next flight back home." Samantha turned to look at him. "Where are you going?" "I plan on packing a few things before I make the leap into the past." She stood, staring at him in disbelief. "What do you mean your leap into the past?" "We can’t let Gillian go alone. She may need some help and I want to go prepared."

"Well, if you are going, I am too." "Samantha—" “Don’t try to talk me out of this.” "Okay, okay, I'll pick up a few things for you, too." Jerry turned to leave, but then came back. He pulled Samantha against him in a hug. He leaned down and kissed her. A quick kiss, that was still tender, sweet, and oh so hot. "What was that for?" Samantha looked up at him, her brow furrowing. He gently caressed her lips with his thumb. "Because I love you." He kissed again, a quick peck before he turned and jogged back to his car. Stunned, Samantha didn't move for a full minute. Did he just tell her that he loved her? She saw him wave from his car before he drove away. Molly whined bringing Samantha's attention back to her. She leaned down and rubbed Molly behind her ears. "Did you hear that girl? He loves me.” Molly licked her hand making her chuckle. “Come on let's see if we can find something for you to eat." *** Samantha had already placed six calls to Gillian’s cell and more to the hotel with no luck. "Where are you Gillian?" She dialed again and let the hotel operator connect her to the room. She let it ring seven times and was about to hang up again, when she heard the familiar voice answer. "Gillian, thank God. Where have you been?" Gillian had been so upset over her find that she hadn’t wanted to speak to anyone. She drove over to where Creighton Manor would have stood, but it was no longer there. One of the locals believed it had burned down in a fire around 1964 or so. She didn’t know what she thought she'd find within the ruins, maybe a connection of some sort. Maybe Molly would be there waiting, but there was nothing. It frightened her to think she may not be able to save Zachary. Gillian was lost in her thoughts and hadn’t been listening, until now. "Wait, wait. Did you say Molly is with you?" "Haven't you been paying attention? She's sitting right next to me as we speak, eating a bowl of eggs and hot dogs." "Don't let her out of your sight. I'm coming home." Gillian didn't even say good-bye. She slammed the receiver down and started rushing around the room collecting all her belongings. She picked up the phone again and asked for an outside line. She called the airport. "Yes, you can help me. Is there a flight out tonight to L.A.?" Gillian waited on the line for the woman to check. She looked down at her left hand and gingerly touched the gold wedding band. "Please, let me get to you in time." CHAPTER FIFTY The three gathered in Gillian's living room, nervously sitting on the edge of the couch and staring at Molly. Molly on the other hand was completely relaxed and was curled up on the floor, sleeping peacefully. Jerry jumped to his feet. "This is ridiculous. We can't stare at her all night. We don't know when the next door through time will open. It could be days, weeks, who knows?"

"You’re right," Gillian answered. "But we have to be prepared. The door doesn’t stay open very long. We can't afford to miss the window of opportunity. Zachary's very life depends on it!" At this point, Gillian's voice rose to a high pitch. She was anxious, worried and excited all at once. She was like a tightly wound string on a violin; one pluck and she would snap. Samantha put her arm around Gillian's shoulders. "It will be all right." Samantha tried to comfort her. Gillian knew Samantha was scared, too. She should be. They had no idea what was waiting on the other side of the door of time. What if Samantha and Jerry went, but then couldn’t return? It was a lot of faith to put in a mere mutt. She glanced at Molly, who slept as though there was not a care in the world. She supposed to her, there wasn’t. "We'll stay the night," Jerry stated. "That way if Molly decides it’s time, we'll be ready to go." Gillian nodded in agreement. "I'll get some blankets." She headed to the spare room. "I'll help." Samantha followed, leaving Jerry to watch Molly. He had been very thorough with bringing everything he thought was necessary for their trip to 1870. He bought clothing to fit the era, which they were all wearing at this moment. He exchanged some money to what would be appropriate. He even bought some rare gems with the money that Zachary had left Gillian from selling his pocket watch. Gillian didn't know about this yet, he wanted to surprise her. He knew once Gillian went back to 1870, and if they were able to insure Zachary's safety, she wouldn’t return to this time. He wanted to make sure she had a substantial income. Most of all, he had prepared a medical bag with enough medical supplies to start his own hospital. He wasn't going to take his chances with nineteenth century medicine. When they awoke the next morning, Molly was gone. Gillian was barely holding it together, her stomach churning with frustration. “I don’t understand. Why would she show up here then go?” “I don’t know,” Samantha said. She turned her head toward the front door as Jerry came in. “I checked everywhere. I didn’t see her.” Gillian sat down on the sofa, her shoulders slumping forward. Samantha looked at Jerry for help. He shrugged at a loss of what to do. Then Gillian stood and paced as a thought started to form in her head. “Why not?” she mumbled. She came to a halt and stood motionless in the middle of the room. “Gillian?” Jerry sounded worried. She looked at him then to Samantha. “We have to go to the Queen Mary.” “The Queen Mary?” Samantha asked. “Why there?” “It’s where it all began and I’m going.” She didn’t wait for them to answer. She grabbed her car keys and purse. She was already heading to the door when Jerry took a hold of her arm. “Don’t try and prevent me from going.” She yanked free and he held up his hands. “I wasn’t. Just hold on while I load the car. We’re coming too.” They probably looked a sight the way they were dressed: Two women and one man dressed in period clothing. It was no wonder the receptionist’s mouth dropped open before she recovered and gave them a smile. “May I— hey, don’t I know you?” She pointed to Samantha then she glanced at Gillian. “I see you made it back.”

Gillian remembered Tara. She believed in all this: Ghosts and traveling through time. Heck, what was she saying, she was a believer, too. “Yes, but I want to go back again.” “I guess you might as well do it here, if you don’t know of another way.” “What do you mean?” Jerry asked. “Who are you?” Tara eyed him with suspicion. “Jerry, I’m a friend of Gillian’s.” “You’re kind of cute, Jerry, but I’d lose the cowboy look. As for your question, well, there are fragile areas of time that create what some call a vortex, and we can slip through, but most of the time it’s only the human’s essence that appears. You know ghosts,” she added to make sure they understood. She tilted her head to one side. “You’re from this time, aren’t you?” she asked Jerry just to make sure. She batted her eyes at him. “Uh yes,” he answered. “About these vortex’s,” Samantha drew Tara’s attention back to her. “How do you find them?” Tara shrugged her shoulders and flipped her long hair over her shoulder. “I haven’t a clue. My grandmother told me stories. She was from Ireland and she believed in the Sidhe, you know the fairy folk. I kind of thought she was losing it.” She twirled her index finger at her temple, giving the universal sign for crazy. “But since I started working here, the old woman may have known a thing or two.” She leaned forward on the desk. “It’s so weird. I think I saw John Pedder the other day.” They gave her blank look, so she added, “The guy that was playing chicken with the watertight doors; he got cut in half. But if you really want to see ghosts, the pool is the creepiest—” “Tara,” Jerry interrupted. “It’s great to know that you are one of us. You know a...” He leaned close and whispered, “… sensitive. So you see that is why we need to see that room.” “At the moment, it is already booked.” Gillian groaned. “We have to have the room. You don’t understand; it is a matter of life and death.” Tara lifted her brows, but then her mouth burst into a smile. “Really?” “Yes.” Samantha grounded out, her voice sounding as if she wanted to throttle the infuriating girl. “Is there anything that you can do?” Jerry asked smiling broadly. Tara smiled back. She looked at the computer and brought up the reservation. “They haven’t arrived yet. I suppose I could let you go up there for now, but you have to promise me you will be out of there before three. That’s check in time.” “That’s fine,” Gillian would take what she could and deal with the rest later. “This is it?” Jerry said as he stepped into the stateroom. “I half expected ghosts to be going at it in the bed. I’m a little disappointed.” Samantha nudged him with a shake of her head. “What? It looks like an ordinary stateroom. Where’s the vortex?” Gillian walked over to the picture that hung on the wall, the one that she had been drawn to before. She dropped her purse on the bed and studied the family that had taken their picture in front of a riverboat. She noticed the plaque that was below it, knowing it hadn’t been there before. It stated, photo by Henry C. Norman. Samantha looked over her shoulder at the photo. “Gillian, the woman is you.” “What?” Jerry walked over to take a look, too. “It looks like Gillian,” Jerry agreed. “And I’d say that’s Zachary, maybe Tyler but who’s the little girl?”

Gillian’s hand flew to her mouth. She stepped away and plopped down hard on the bed. “Why didn’t I see it before?” Her lips curved into a smile. She mentally thanked Mr. Norman for documenting that she had been there. “Do you really think it’s you?” Samantha asked. “Wouldn’t you know if you took the photo?” Gillian’s gaze met hers and Samantha caught on. “You haven’t taken the photo yet, have you?” “No and this means I still have a chance.” She looked around the room. “This is the connection. This is how Molly brought me back. Tara had mentioned that this room had artifacts from a riverboat. The desk has to be from the Ida Belle, maybe from the cabin Zachary had been in. That photo,” she nodded toward it, “is another connection. Maybe they act like a conduit sliding time in a way that I could step from this world and into Zachary’s.” She made her own assumptions, but Jerry seemed preoccupied and it drew her attention. “What’s wrong?” “Do you hear something?” he asked. They listened for a moment. “Sounds like scratching,” Gillian said. Jerry followed the sound to the closet. He slid it open and Molly came bounding out nearly toppling him over to get to Gillian on the bed. “Whoa girl.” Gillian leaned back, taking the full impact of the excited mutt that insisted on licking her face. “You came back girl.” She rubbed her behind her ears. “She brought something with her, too,” Jerry said as he pointed at the closet. “Oh my,” Samantha moved beside him. Gillian slid off the bed and Molly ran ahead, leaping into the closet and turning around to bark as if to say hurry up and follow. They didn’t have to be told twice. Gillian recognized where they were immediately. They were aboard the Ida Belle. She glanced back to where the portal had been. The passage back to the twenty-first century was gone and like all the other times, Molly had disappeared. Samantha’s eyes widened. "I feel like I'm swaying." "You are," Gillian replied. "The effects of the time travel?" Samantha held onto Jerry for support. "No." She couldn’t keep from chuckling. "You're on a riverboat." "Oh. I don’t know if I should be scared, amazed or just curious." Samantha chuckled. "Maybe all of the above,” Gillian told her. “Come on, we have to find Captain Pike. I hope he remembers me and will help." Gillian headed toward what she hoped was the front of the ship. Samantha and Jerry followed close behind, carrying the luggage. "How do you know the captain?" Jerry asked. "He's the one that performed the marriage ceremony.” The three found out from a passenger, that the captain was in his cabin changing his jacket. He had a little mishap. Someone spilled a drink on him. Arriving at the captain's quarters, they didn't waste any time. Gillian didn’t even knock but threw open the door and walked in. Jerry looked to Samantha with a shrug before he motioned for her to go in ahead of him. Captain Pike whirled on them. "See here. What is this about?" Then his eyes widen in surprise. "You're... " He pointed at Gillian. "You're supposed to be dead."

"Thank God, you do remember me. As you can see, I'm alive and well." She moved closer to the captain, who quickly took a step back but this didn’t deter her. "I'm sorry to have barged in on you, but it's vitally important that I— " “Where have you been?” the captain interrupted having recovered from his initial fright of thinking he’d seen an apparition. “Zachary is being held for your murder." "I know, I know. That is why I need to get off this ship." "As I see it, you need to be staying on; we're heading into town.” The captain shook his head. "He is also being held for the attempted murder of his housekeeper. She's not doing well. However, she has been holding on to life these past days.” "Where is this woman?" Jerry stepped forward. "Who might you be?" he asked suspiciously. "I'm Dr. Jerry Avery. I might be of some help to this woman. I brought my medical bag with me." Jerry lifted the bag for the captain to see. "There's no helping that woman. She was stabbed in the gut. She won't be surviving such a wound." "I'd like to try," Jerry was insistent. The captain sighed. "I guess it wouldn’t hurt for you to try your doctoring on the woman." Captain Pike turned the Ida Belle toward land. He asked one of his men to escort Jerry and Samantha to where Dora was being looked after. "I'll be making the trip back in two days, be ready then to come back aboard," the captain instructed his man. "Yes sir." The young man answered. Jerry smiled meekly at Gillian before he left the Ida Belle. Samantha gave Gillian a hug. "If it can be done, Jerry will save her." Gillian hoped that Samantha was right or their attempt to save Zachary would be lost since Dora was their only hope of finding out what really happened. "Are you ready to go?" The captain looked at Gillian. “It’s no secret. Zachary claimed the body found by the river wasn’t you, but no one believed him.” “That’s why I’m here.” Gillian squinted against the sun. "I'm ready. Let's make this boat fly." The captain chuckled. "The Ida Belle is no bird, Mrs. Creighton, but I'll surely push her to the limits." Gillian paced most of the trip. She couldn't sit still. She was worried she would be too late. The captain was sure the sentencing was today. She had to be there before that happened. Finally, they docked and the captain wished her Godspeed. She remembered where the courtroom was located from her last visit into town with Zachary. No one gave her a second glance as she quickly made her way. When she finally reached the building, she straightened her dress and took a deep breath and exhaled. She then opened the door and entered. It took her a moment for her eyes to adjust. The courtroom was not very big, but it was crammed with people. Some were standing against the wall and in the aisles. Gillian worked her way to the front. Her eyes caught sight of Zachary sitting next to Ellery at the front table. "Will the defendant please rise?" The judge looked at Zachary and waited.

Zachary rose from his seat and stood tall and straight, his shoulders squared as he waited to hear his sentence. "Zachary, the jury has come to a decision... " Gillian moved her way around one of the spectators. "Your honor, may I say something before you proceed?" All eyes riveted toward her as they stared at her in silence, but then the courtroom began to buzz with their speculations. She heard someone gasp. She kept her eyes on Zachary, who in return looked at her with disbelief. God, she had forgotten how blue his eyes were. She heard Tyler's voice above all the commotion. "Aunt Gillian, you're back." With the mention of her name, the voices rose until she couldn’t hear what the judge was saying. He pounded his gavel four times before there was order in the court again. "Please approach the bench, young lady." Gillian walked to the front of the room. She felt uneasy, knowing all eyes were on her. Judge Turloff waited until she stood before him. "What is your name young lady?" She straightened her shoulders and answered. "Gillian Creighton." "You'll swear this under oath?" "Yes, your honor." "Please turn around and face the people of the court," Judge Turloff asked Gillian, kindly. The judge addressed Josephine Locke. "Is this woman, Gillian Creighton?" Josephine’s hand flew to her mouth. “What have I done?” "We're waiting?" Judge Turloff boomed. Josephine glanced at Zachary then to Gillian. "Yes," Josephine barely answered above a whisper, but it was quite loud enough for everyone to hear. Judge Turloff looked at Zachary. "Is this your wife?" Zachary searched Gillian's face, confusion evident in his wide blue eyes. Gillian knew he had questions. They thought they would never see each other again and yet here she stood. It felt like a dream to her. She could only imagine what he must feel. "Yes, sir.” Zachary’s voice was husky with a quiet intensity that brought all eyes around to meet his. “The beautiful woman standing before you is my wife." Judge Turloff hit his gavel down on the desk with a loud thump. "This case is dismissed on the grounds that Gillian Creighton..." He pointed to her “... obviously was not murdered." Arthur Mann jumped to his feet. "What about the attempted murder of Dora? Surely you don't plan on letting this man go." Arthur pointed to Zachary. Ellery was on his feet also. "Looking at how this case has been twisted into lies. I move to have this also thrown out of court." Judge Turloff looked as if he would have liked to, but Gillian knew ethically he couldn’t. "I will postpone testimony over Dora Chandler, until we have gone over all the evidence with a fine tooth comb." He looked at Arthur Mann. "If you cannot prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Zachary is the attacker, I will release him. Is that understood?” Arthur nodded. "Good. Now in the matter of the woman found by the river, we need to find out her true identity, so we can notify her family." Then the judge looked at Zachary. "Until such notice, I will have to ask you to stay with us a while longer." "But, Judge Turloff... " Ellery began, but the Judge raised his hand halting the flow of words.

"What I say stands. Do not argue with me." He looked at the restless crowd in the courtroom. "Court adjourned." He hit the gavel to the desk and rose from his seat. Everyone at once started to leave, but Gillian stood where she was and watched the sheriff take Zachary away. Lotti, Ellery and Tyler were beside her in seconds, all of them at once, asking questions. It would have been comical, if the situation at hand hadn’t been so dire. "One at a time." Gillian tried to calm them. "How did you manage to find your way back?" Ellery was the one to speak first. "Molly of course," she answered simply. "You’re really here." Lotti hugged her. “Thank you.” "Will they let me go to him?" Gillian looked to Ellery. He smiled. "They will. Come with me." *** Zachary stood when he heard the door open. Luke led Gillian inside and down to his cell. He had wondered if she would come to see him, or if she would simply disappear back to her time. Luke opened the cell to let her in. Then he went back up front to give them some privacy. She stood staring at him, her auburn hair framing her beautiful face. If it were possible she was more beautiful than he remembered. The throbbing desire to kiss her turned into a slow roll of want, but before he would put his heart on the line, he needed to know where he stood with her. "Why did you come back?" he blurted out. Her gaze didn’t waver. "I had a horrible dream about you, Zachary. I couldn’t rest until I found out what happened to you. Samantha and Jerry helped me search for the truth." She chewed on her lower lip and he knew she hesitated to tell him what they found, but he already knew. "I was found guilty and they hung me, didn’t they?" Gillian nodded. "When Molly appeared, I had to go. I couldn't let you hang for something you didn't do." "Oh." He looked away trying to hide the disappointment that centered just behind his heart. She felt guilty. That’s why she came. He guessed he should be grateful she had a conscience. "You shouldn't have come," he said quietly. Gillian walked up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I had to. Shouldn't a wife stand by her husband?” He turned to look at her again. His right eyebrow lifted slightly as a whisper of hope touched him. "What are you saying?" Gillian lifted her left hand. He swallowed hard when he caught sight of the wedding ring she wore. "I want to be with you always, Zachary. When you went back with Tyler, I tried to go to you, but I waited too long. I was a fool to have ever let you go, and worse for not seeing what I had. Right before you disappeared, you said something to me. Do you remember what it was?" He nodded and repeated the words. “Grá mo chroi.” "That's what the man in my dream always tells me."

He ran his fingers through his hair and couldn’t help but smile. "Let me get this straight: If I had spoken Irish endearments to you from the start, you would have gladly fallen into my arms?" He chuckled, but she didn’t laugh. Hell and Damnation, she was serious. “It didn't matter that you pledged those words, for I already knew in my heart that I belonged with you." She touched her hand to her chest. “Did you mean what you said in the letter that you left me or have your feelings changed?” He caught her hand and pressed it to his chest. “I meant every word, Gillian.” "You asked me why I came back." He nodded and swallowed the lump in the back of his throat. “I came back because I love you.” Her eyes brimmed with tenderness and longing. "A ghile mo chroí." His mouth descended upon hers and he felt her knees go weak. He held her tight. He wouldn’t let her fall. He drank in the sweetness of her kiss, making him hungry for more. His hands glided down her back, drawing her closer. Neither one wanted to let go of the other, but the circumstances of where they were warranted that they had better stop. He reluctantly lifted his head and drew in a rugged breath. Her eyes fluttered open, still drugged with passion. He brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. Her lips curved. "What do those words mean? The ones you say in Irish." "Grá mo chroi, means my darling and a ghile mo chroí, means my heart's beloved." She rested her head against his chest and hugged him. "A ghile mo chroí.” Zachary cradled her against him while he ran his hands through her long unbound hair. As much as he wanted her to be with him, he couldn’t say it, for right now his future looked bleak. Dora could die and he would hang for her murder. He reluctantly let her go so that he could think logically. "Come over here." He led her to the cot and bade her to sit down with him. He held her hand, caressing the ring he had given her. Gillian must have sensed something was wrong. “Talk to me, Zachary?” He leaned forward and kissed the tiny frown lines that were etched between her brows, hoping to erase them. He leaned back and squeezed her hand tenderly. "You don't know how long I have waited for you to tell me you wanted to be with me. I would like nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you, but unfortunately, that will probably never happen. If you didn’t know, Dora was seriously injured. Lotti has seen her and has talked to the doctor. She'll not recover." He took a deep breath and released it. He was afraid to ask, but he had to know. "I would never hurt Dora, you know this don’t you?" "Zachary, it never crossed my mind that you would have." He sighed in relief. "But the question is: Who would?" He ran his fingers through his hair. "I've gone over it again and again in my mind without any answers. The woman that had been mistaken for you, she was found wearing your brooch." "My brooch... the one you gave me? The one that was your mother's?" "Yes. What I don't understand is how she had obtained it." "I distinctly remember leaving it on the nightstand. Could the woman have broken into the house and stolen the brooch? Maybe Dora came upon her and the woman attacked her." "Ellery and I have thought about that, but it just doesn't make sense. Where did the woman come from? If only we could have made an identification other than the brooch. By the time someone found the woman, nature had taken its toll and no one could identify her. The

woman had reddish-color hair and she was wearing your clothes. That is why everyone was so convinced it was you.” “We proved it wasn’t.” “Yes, you did, but it doesn’t clear me of the other charges. Now that you are aware of what I am up against, you can see why you must not wait around for me. If Molly offers you a way back to your time, please promise me you’ll take it." "I'm not leaving you. Besides, we still have hope. I forgot to tell you, Jerry and Samantha are with me. At this moment, Jerry is looking at Dora and seeing if he can do anything to help." "Jerry is here?" "Yes, and he brought enough medical supplies to open up a clinic. If Dora can be saved, Jerry will do it." "I hope your right." For the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope. CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE Dr. Jenson was taking care of Dora and by the looks of it, he was doing a piss poor job of it. It took some convincing, but with the letter from Captain Pike, the doctor attending Dora finally allowed Jerry to examine her. Dora was very ill, burning with fever and in dire need of fluids. Jerry could see that the wound had not ruptured anything vital, which in itself was a miracle, but it was infected. From what Jerry was able to find out, Dr. Jenson had bled the poor woman repeatedly to rid her of what he thought was poison in her system. Jerry would have throttled the man on the spot if Samantha hadn’t intervened and led the doctor outside. Jerry had Samantha stand guard at the door, while he set up an IV. Dora needed her strength and antibiotics and he didn't want to have anyone stopping him from what he was doing because they didn't understand the technology. Jerry listened to Dora's heartbeat. Samantha moved beside him. She waited until he was finished before she asked, "Can you save her?" He looked at her and sighed. "I'm not sure, though she does have a strong heartbeat. I'll know more in twenty-four hours. If she responds to the medication, I think she may have a chance." He looked at the woman that was lying on the bed. "She's a fighter that one. She's lasted this long with the quack doctor out there," Jerry said disgustingly as he nodded toward the closed door. "He tried to suck the life out of her, but luckily he didn't succeed." He moved around the bed and checked the IV that was hanging from a coat rack to make sure it was dripping properly. Once, he was satisfied that he did all he could do for the woman, he pulled up two seats, offering one to Samantha. All they could do now was wait. *** Gillian reluctantly left the jail with Ellery, promising Zachary she would be back first thing in the morning. "Lotti asked me to escort you to Bowyer Hotel,” Ellery told her.

Gillian stopped suddenly and took hold of Ellery's sleeve making him look at her. "We can't let them sentence Zachary for something that he didn't do. I didn't come all this way to lose him again." "I know, Gillian, but my hands are tied. The weapon was Zachary's knife. Dora was stabbed in his home, his room to be exact. There are no witnesses. As far as we know nothing was taken from the house..." "Yes, there was." Ellery gave her a quizzical look. "Are you talking about the brooch? Zachary was not sure if it had been in the house." "It was. I know I put it on the nightstand. Everyone was convinced that the woman who drowned was supposed to be me, that no one questioned the possibility the brooch was stolen. The woman had to have been in the house. It’s the only explanation as to how she got it." "Even if she was the one that was in the house, we don't know who she is. She had nothing else on her person that could identify her." “We have to try again.” “Believe me, we will.” "May I ask another favor of you?" Gillian asked. "Anything." "Can you help me send a message to my friends." Ellery looked quizzical at her. "Friends?" "Yes. They're from my time and they are, at this moment, trying to see if they can save Dora." “I don’t believe they can, but then I am not familiar with the wonders of the twenty-first century. Come, we’ll send a telegram.” Ellery waited anxiously with Gillian for the response to the telegraph message they sent. Finally, they had an answer, even though it didn’t tell them what they wished to hear. Jerry sent a message that Dora was no better, but she was no worse either. He said he would send another message, tomorrow. Knowing there was not much more they could do, Ellery walked Gillian to the Bowyer Hotel and bade her goodnight. CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO Dora groaned as she moved her stiff limbs. Where was she? “Are you awake? Can you hear me?” a man’s voice asked. He had a nice voice. Dora turned her head toward him, squinting her eyes as she tried to focus. She kept hearing the strange man saying something to her, but she wasn’t sure what he was trying to tell her. She closed her eyes and would have gone back to sleep, but the man was insistent. She opened her eyes once more. This time the young man's face was clearer. He was very handsome, she thought, but she couldn’t place who he was. Finally, she recognized the words that the man was saying to her. "I'm Doctor Jerry Avery. Do you know who you are?" Dora stared at him. Who was this man? Movement caught her attention and she turned her head.

A woman with long blonde hair walked over to stand next to the doctor. She looked worried. Jerry asked the question again. "Do you know who you are?" Dora couldn't seem to make her vocal chords work. She settled on a nod. "Can you tell me your name?” The doctor was getting on her nerves. Couldn't he see how tired she was? Since it seemed he wasn’t going to leave her alone without her answering, she swallowed and tried again to use her voice. It was scratchy but the words came out. "My name is Dora Chandler.” The handsome doctor’s lips curved into a smile. Now that she was awake, she was a little curious. "Where am I?" she croaked out the words. She tried to look around her, but she felt stiff and uncomfortable. Then she tried to move and that was worse for she felt a sharp pain sear through her. She decided to stay very still. "You're at the doctor's office. You were attacked. Do you know by whom?" Dora thought for a moment. She was attacked? Then the memories of what happened came flooding back. Her eyes grew big as saucers as she nodded. "Yes, I know who it was. It be that woman..." Dora fought to remember the name. Jerry patted her arm. “Take a breath.” She nodded and swallowed. "Violet… Ellsworth,” she forced the name out. “She was in the house. Crazy … stabbed me.” Samantha and Jerry exchanged looks. They had a name of the attacker. They just had to get the information to Gillian. *** Gillian and Ellery were at the telegraph office promptly at twelve. Gillian could not sit still. She paced up and down the walk. Ellery was just as nervous as she was for an answer, but had decided to take a seat on the bench. "I wish telephones were already invented. Heck, what I would do for a cell phone. This is driving me crazy." Gillian threw up her hands. "Telephone… why would you sell it?” he questioned. She chuckled. "Cell phone is a type of phone. Sorry to say, you won’t see one in your lifetime. The telephone will be invented in 1876. You will love it when you can have one for yourself. You can pick up a receiver and talk to anyone in the world…" She saw Ellery's eyes widen in wonder. "Well, not at first you won't be able to talk to anyone around the world but..." Click, click click. The telegraph started and both Ellery and Gillian ran to the window, eagerly waiting for the information to be written down. When it was complete, the telegraph operator handed the note to them. Ellery and Gillian looked at each other in disbelief. "Violet Ellsworth," they both said at the same time. Gillian and Ellery immediately made an appointment with Judge Turloff and handed him the information. Judge Turloff made the necessary inquiries to Downhaven facility. It took a few days, but they did confirm that Violet had indeed escaped. Dora was able to confirm to the authorities that Violet was wearing the brooch when she happened to come upon her.

To Arthur Mann's dismay, all the charges were dropped since the mystery was solved. Zachary was most anxious to make his departure from his one-room living quarters. He came out into the bright sunshine and had to shade his eyes. He was happy to see everyone, but what he really wanted was a chance to be alone with Gillian. CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE Zachary prepared the rooms for Jerry and Samantha before he went back downstairs to the library where Gillian waited for him. She turned to look at him as he entered the room. God, he was nervous. He wiped his sweaty palms on his shirt. She declared her love for him, but doubt threaded its way in, making him wonder if she said the words to appease a condemned man. She rose from the sofa and walked toward him with a sweet smile touching her lips. He met her gaze and breathed a sigh of relief. He could see the shifting emerald lights of her eyes, mirroring her love for him. She took his hand and he felt his pulse quicken. She rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered. He let her lead him to the staircase but before they made their assent, he halted her, forcing her to turn to look at him. He witnessed the raw emotions reflected in her green eyes and something more. He lightly fingered a loose tendril of her hair that gleamed with shadows of deep gold and rich red. He studied her face unhurriedly, feature by feature like a whisper before his gaze came to rest on her questioning eyes. "I love you with all my heart and I promise to take care of you always, but if we go up those stairs together, it has to be forever. I won't have you any other way.” He took a ragged breath. “Therefore, I'm asking you to be honest with yourself. Are you sure this is what you want?" She brushed her lips against his. "I'm sure. Make love to me, Zachary Creighton." He drew her against him. He covered her lips hungrily, drugging her senses until she swayed. He swept her off her feet and she encircled her arms around his neck. He headed to their room. They were not in total darkness. Zachary had lit the lamps before he had gone downstairs. He closed the door with his foot. He slowly let her body slide down his. His gaze caressed her angelic face. She looked up at him with such trust, such love. Without hesitation, he again lowered his mouth to hers. This time his kiss was searching, tasting, demanding and she responded in kind with the urgency, the searing need that had been building since the moment they had met. She needed him as much as he needed her. Breathless with the all-consuming fire for each other, they managed to end the embrace as they eagerly started removing the hindering clothes that kept their bodies apart. Their lips locked once more with the burning desire to be as one, but they also wanted to savor each touch. They moved to the bed. His hand roamed the length of her body magically bringing her senses to a new height. He kissed every curve from her well-rounded breasts, to her hips and everywhere in between. His hand moved downward, skimming the inside of her thighs. Instinctively her body arched toward him, giving him access. She moaned with pleasure and he continued to bring her closer and closer over the edge. He knew his caresses were driving her wild with passion, but when her hands found him, he gasped in sweet agony, as his world seemed to spin and careened on its axis. “Oh God,

Gillian.” His hands and lips continued their hungry search, causing his thoughts to fragment into a million pieces. Finally, he moved above her, taking her, claiming her for now and for always. A gentle cry escaped her lips as she wrapped her legs around him, bringing him deeper within her, drawing them both to a height of passion they had never believed existed. She arched to meet his steady thrusts with ardor that equaled his own. He leaned down and kissed her lips of velvet, his tongue ravaging the sweetness of her mouth. Her every curve molded against his and he took her trembling from naked desire to fulfillment, as sighs of satisfaction also shook through his body. He rolled to the side bringing her with him. He kissed her nose, her chin and then his mouth covered hers. “Grá mo chroi,” he whispered. “I love you.” A smile curved her lips as her gaze found his. “I love you, too.” CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR Zachary sat up, leaning on one elbow as he met Gillian’s gaze. A slow smile spread across his face. "Good morning, Mrs. Creighton," he greeted her before he kissed her. She loved the sound of that—almost as much as she loved the way his hands feathered down her body. "Good morning, Mr. Creighton." She snuggled closer. He nuzzled a kiss under her chin and whispered loving endearments in her ear. “I still can’t believe you’re mine to hold and cherish.” He gently twirled her satiny auburn hair around his finger. “Hmm, cherish—yes.” She smiled, placing her hands on either side of Zachary's ruggedly handsome face. “I plan on cherishing you, too.” He grinned both boyish and roguish as he wagged his eyebrows at her. Her lips twitched into a mischievous grin. “What are you thinking, Zachary?” "I was hoping we could start cherishing each other now before we are forced to join the rest of the world?” His hands roved down the back of her thigh and up again. Her body shifted allowing his fingers to find her velvety softness and her hips lifted in a sensuous invitation. "I would be disappointed, if we didn't.” CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE Dora was brought to Zachary's home as soon as they were able to move her. She was recuperating, miraculously. This morning, she was sitting up in bed when Jerry came to check on her. He could see her coloring was much better. "Hello Dr. Avery." She smiled warmly. She owed her life to this young man and would be forever in his debt. "So how's my favorite patient?” Dora giggled. "Doing real good today. I think I'm back to my old self." "Well you do look mighty fine, if I do say so myself. And how is the wound?"

"Oh, healing nicely." "Do you mind if I take a look?” Jerry asked. Dora blushed. She wasn't accustomed to showing so much flesh to a man, doctor or not. The Creighton’s were like her family and he was a relative in a sense since he was related to Tyler’s father. She wasn’t quite sure how, but the resemblance was obvious. She lifted her gown and Jerry removed the bandage. “The skin around the wound looks healthy and pink, just the way it’s supposed to look.” Jerry put a new bandage on and lowered the nightgown. "Everything looks great. You won't be needing me much longer." He patted her arm and Dora took his hand. "Thank you." Her eyes misted with her appreciation. "You’re very welcome." *** Fear slid down Gillian’s spine at the prospect of setting foot inside Creighton Manor, but for Zachary's sake, she kept her anxiety to herself. He bubbled over with excitement and wanted to share what he’d accomplished. He told her he had made some changes to the house and he was sure she would be pleased. He brought the horses all the way up to the front of the manor. Zachary helped Gillian down from the carriage and they walked hand in hand to the front door and went inside. As soon as Gillian's eyes adjusted to the lighting, she could see that everything had been cleaned and polished until it shined. She saw in one corner a large desk and in the back the beginning of a bookshelf. Otherwise, the room was bare. Gillian looked to Zachary, waiting for him to explain. "I want to turn this place into a clinic for the less fortunate. I won’t turn a soul away. I also want to set up a research lab to develop cures for different diseases. I have already contacted a few old schoolmates of mine and they are considering coming here to work. I know that it will take time to establish such a dream, but I do believe it can be done. I’ve seen firsthand how a hospital should run." Gillian knew he was referring to Hoag Hospital and all the wonders of medicine he had witnessed. "I'm not that far from my own medical degree," Zachary continued. "I plan on making that a reality." She couldn’t miss the hope in his eyes. He wanted to please her. He did. "I think that is a very fine idea." She smiled and he returned one of his own with a sigh of relief. "And,” he said dragging her to another room. “You can teach.” She opened her mouth but nothing came out. The room was furnished with desks and there were books, English and grammar; Hodgin’s Geography and History of the British Colonies, first through sixth grade books of lessons, and that was just to name a few. She stood there in awe, wondering when he had time to do all this. “Tell me you’re pleased.” She looked at him. His expression was filled with uneasy worry. “Zachary, this is the nicest gift anyone has ever given me.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you.” She kissed him again. “Thank you, thank you.” This time he planted a searing kiss on her and only came up for air when they heard someone clear their throat behind them.

“Should have locked the door,” Zachary murmured. He released Gillian with a sigh of regret and turned to face the intruder. “Jerry,” he grumbled. “Perfect timing as usual.” “Sorry to interrupt.” Jerry’s face split into a teasing grin. "But you did say to meet you here." Samantha walked in behind Jerry with a low whistle. "Look at this place. I could fit my whole apartment right here in this room." Samantha walked over to Gillian and dragged her to the side, while Jerry and Zachary were engrossed with their own conversation. "So tell me?" Samantha slid her gaze up and down Gillian. "Is everything... you know … good with you two?" Gillian chuckled. "It couldn't be more perfect." "I'm so happy for you." Samantha glanced back at the two men that were deep in conversation. "What's going on? What are Zachary's plans with this place?” "He wants to turn Creighton Manor into a research facility and hospital. I think he’s asking Jerry’s opinion on the idea. The manor will also house a school. You have to see the books Zachary purchased. It must have cost him a fortune." Gillian looked at her generous husband, who was nodding his head at something Jerry had said. “Look at the two of them, will you. Jerry is loving all this. He’s a part of history now. He knows more than most doctors of this time would even dream of accomplishing.” Gillian knew Jerry and Samantha wouldn’t be here forever. She couldn’t explain how she knew. It was only a feeling that wouldn’t go away. Molly would be back for them and she’d have to say goodbye to her old life forever. Surprisingly, she was okay with that part, but she would miss Jerry and Samantha. "Why the long face?” "I was just wondering how much time you both will have here?" "I’ve thought about that, too. There hasn't been any sign of Molly since we arrived. I can only assume we aren’t going anywhere for the moment." "True." Gillian sighed and met Samantha’s gaze. “I’m going to miss you, Samantha.” “I’m going to miss our late night talks at Polly’s.” She reached out for Gillian’s hand squeezing it tightly. "I have to stay. I belong here.” "I know." Samantha nodded. She brought Samantha near in a fierce hug. CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX A few months had passed and the clinic took shape. It would officially open in a couple of weeks with three researchers, one doctor and a receptionist. Zachary would be interning with the doctor at the facility. Jerry encouraged the progress without interfering, except when it came to convincing Gillian and Zachary to let him inoculate them. He managed to get his hands on a few things before he made the leap to the past. He had already taken care of Tyler when he was in the hospital. He knew he may be fooling with the future, but then destiny shouldn’t have let them time travel. He reasoned that it was only fair that he be given the chance to see

that his loved ones had a fighting chance to survive in what he saw as a cesspool of diseases. The day finally arrived for Samantha and Jerry to go home. Again, the backyard was the portal, enabling them to step from one time to the other with Molly as their guardian to lead the way. Jerry turned and shook Zachary's hand. Zachary gripped his hand tightly. "Take care of her." Jerry nodded toward Gillian. "You have my word on that." Samantha hugged Gillian, trying not to cry, but she lost the battle. Jerry extended his hand for Tyler to shake. "You, young man." This statement seemed strange to Jerry, since Tyler was technically his elder. "You make sure you take care of your aunt and uncle." Tyler nodded. "I will, sir. One day, I want to be a doctor just like you." Jerry smiled at the little boy. "I have no doubt that you will make a fine one, too." Jerry turned to Gillian. He hesitated about giving her a hug, but she put her arms around him first. "I'll miss you," he said hugging her back. "Me too." Gillian sniffled. They parted and Jerry took Samantha's hand as they walked over to the other side. They turned to say their final goodbyes and Jerry shouted. "I left my doctor’s bag in my room with medical supplies and in the zipper compartment there is something extra you’ll probably need. I took the liberty of liquidating your assets into something that would be beneficial to you here." They barely heard the last as they faded away. Molly had stayed behind. Tyler was giggling as he chased her. "What do you suppose Jerry meant by that last statement?" Gillian asked. "I have no idea, but I plan to find out." They went directly inside. Zachary pulled out a pouch from the doctor’s bag, pouring the contents onto the bed. "Hell and damnation! Would you look at that; I've never seen so many gems at one time." "It can buy quite a bit of equipment needed for the clinic." "More than enough." Zachary took Gillian’s face in his hands and kissed her. "I am a lucky man. I have everything I could possibly want." He caressed her cheek. "I was chasing after Creighton Manor, believing it would make me whole again, but it was you all along, wasn’t it? You’re my heart, Gillian Creighton, my love, my life." He swept her, weightless, into his arms and spun her around. She was still laughing when he fell onto the bed with her. She looked up at him and he saw the heart-rending tenderness of her gaze. She placed her hands on either side of his face. “I love you.” “A ghile mo chorí.” “Zachary, you know what those words do to me?” She smiled with meaning. “Oh, I know full well my dear wife.” His lips slowly descended to hers. CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN Three years later...

Henry Norman adjusted the camera, before looking up again. “Mrs. Creighton would you mind moving over a little to the right.” Henry wanted the picture to be perfect. He positioned the Creighton family so the Ida Belle stood as a backdrop for the photo. He was just about to take the picture when Mrs. Creighton yelled for him to stop. He watched her arguing with Mr. Creighton, who held up his index finger for him to wait moment. “Are you sure, Gillian?” Zachary asked as he picked up his little girl, cradling her in his left arm. “You were holding Cayla. Tyler was standing beside me. Oh my.” She scanned the dock. “What is it?” “Molly was with us.” “We haven’t seen her in quite awhile. Are you sure?” Henry had walked over to them now. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but we’re losing the light.” “We’re sorry,” Zachary told him. “We’re ready now.” He looked to Gillian and shrugged. With a sigh, she took her position next to her husband. Henry took the picture. He had it framed and it hung in his studio for years. It was one of his favorites for the lighting was simply perfect, but there was always one thing that had puzzled him about it. Next to the Creighton’s, there was a dog tilting her head to one side, looking right at him as if she were posing for the camera, too. He would have sworn the mutt hadn’t been there when he took the picture, and yet, her presence made all the difference in the world. Author's Note: The people depicted in this book are fictional characters, but one of the events they witnessed truly happened. The Great Mississippi Steamboat Race did take place at the end of July in 1870. Captain John W. Cannon and T.P. Leathers were at one time partners. When they ended their partnership, a mutual hatred developed between them. Leathers took the Natchez on a fast trip to St. Louis. He beat the J.M White record that had stood for twenty-five years. Everyone believed this is what brought about the race from New Orleans to St. Louis. Both Leathers and Cannon insisted they wouldn’t race, but no one believed them. Cannon stripped The Robert E. Lee and took no passengers. He arranged a refueling in midstream. Leathers was confident that he would win and took freight and passengers with no preparations. Unfortunately, for the Natchez, the Robert E. Lee broke the New Orleans to St. Louis record with three days, eighteen hours and thirteen minutes. This speed has never been bettered by another steamboat. True figure of history: Henry C. Norman moved to Natchez in 1870 and was an assistant photographer to Henry Gurney. Mr. Norman’s obsession with photography has given us the chance to

see Natchez life through the years. He took portraits, street scenes, parades, ceremonies, news events, and just ordinary day to day life. We have Joan W. Gandy and Thomas H. Gandy to thank for saving many of these photos from being destroyed. They have put together a fine collection of books with Mr. Norman’s photos. The Queen Mary Hotel is located in Long Beach, California and has many events, one of them being the Scottish Festival that my family and I attend every year. They have dancing, games and vendors selling jewelry, medieval swords and other items of interest. For a short time, the Queen Mary had the Titanic exhibit available with the items that had been brought up and preserved. The mention of the haunted tours is something offered daily along with their other tours of interest. I took the paranormal evening excursion with their mystic host. She took us to places on the ship that aren’t offered for view on the other tours. To say the least, it was interesting, spooky and entertaining. John Pedder is said to haunt the Queen Mary with numerous sightings through the years. I thought it only appropriate to mention him since he is quite determined to reach us. John was a fireman/cleaner in the number 3 Boiler Room in 1966. For some reason on this routine drill, the eighteen-year old tried to squeeze through the watertight door that closed in less than six seconds. Some speculated he was trying to play a deadly game of “Chicken” and unfortunately lost. On the haunted tour, they mentioned that there are ‘hot spots’ and vortexes throughout the ship, the pool being one of the most active of the paranormal sightings. The lady in white supposedly haunts the Main Lounge (it’s called the Queen’s Salon now). The haunted stateroom is where Winston Churchill stayed. According to legend, he planned the D-Day invasion while taking a bath and playing with toy ships. People have reported smelling cigar smoke. There isn’t a haunted stateroom refurbished with riverboat artifacts. Nor is there a photo from Henry C. Norman’s archives on display. That was simply added for the story. Creighton Manor 181 If you loved this Karen Michelle Nutt book, then you won't want to miss any of her other fabulous tales.

A Twist of Fate- The World (Dark Tarot Line) Autumn Moon (Tease Festival Line)

Destiny’s Prerogative- The Lovers (Dark Tarot Line) Black Donald’s Coin (E-book) Shattered Illusions (E-book) Heart of a Warrior (Pantheon Line) 182 Karen Michelle Nutt

About the Author: Karen Michelle Nutt lives in California with her husband, three fascinating children, two dogs, Jack and Shakespeare, and three cats that have everyone well trained. Her book Lost in the Mist of Time was nominated by New Books Review for 2006, Spotlight Best Fantasy Book of the Year Award. The Object of Romance Anthology feature’s her novella, “Mr. O’Grady’s Magic Box” and received P&E’s Top Ten Readers Award. A Twist of Fate was a P.E.A.R.L nominee for best Time Travel of 2008. She is the member of the Romance Writers of America (RWA.) and in her spare time, she reviews books for PNR- Paranormal Romance Reviews. An avid reader of history, romance, and the paranormal, she tends to combine the three in her writings. She enjoys travel, old movies, books, and the chance to weave a tale. Visit her at www.kmnbooks.com Creighton Manor 183