Time To Keep

Time to Keep by Susan Cody

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. Time to Keep COPYRIGHT © 2007 by Susan Cody All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Contact Information: [email protected] Cover Art by Nicola Martinez The Wild Rose Press PO Box 706 Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706 Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com Publishing History First Vintage Rose Edition, 2008 Published in the United States of America

Dedication To John, Paul, George, Ringo, Mick, Keith, Elton, Eric, Rod, Billy, Huey, David Lee, Robert, and, of course, Frank

Praise for Susan Cody “A Lotus Covered Door is a sweet story. Susan Cody has done a great job creating a real romance in so few pages. I would recommend this to anyone who enjoys short romance.” ~Dakota Rebel, Sensual Reads Writing as Delia Carnell: “This is not the same story you have read before. Almost Paradise is a scintillating plot with twists and turns that will make your head spin. Delia Carnell is genius when it comes to unique captivating stories.” ~Sensual Reads Review About Kella’s Charm: “Delia Carnell writes a smooth narrative and paints vivid scenes.” ~Maggie Anderson, Romance Reviews Today “Brianna’s Magic is pure magic.” ~Missy, Fallen Angel Reviews “Tougher Than Diamonds is the perfect summertime read.” ~Marlene, Fallen Angel Reviews About Jake and Rebecca of Tougher Than Diamonds: “They are no Bogey and Bacall, but they’re a good facsimile.” ~Barb Anderson, Romantic Times Book Reviews

Chapter One Star Prescott didn’t really need a vacation. It was her doctor’s silly insistence that she take some time off. She didn’t want to put her career on hold while she “rested.” She had projects half-finished, clients who relied on her for advertising campaigns that killed, and a hefty rental payment on a slick Manhattan apartment. And the highest blood pressure Dr. West had ever seen in someone Star’s age. So here she was in some tiny village in northwestern England, booked for three weeks—three weeks!—in some manor house or something or other in the middle of West Nowhere. Probably a big, drafty, stone construction that wouldn’t even have Internet access. But Dr. West had sent other patients there, and they’d come back well rested with manageable BP numbers, so Star had agreed to try it. Reluctantly. It was a whole new career niche. Doctor as travel agent. Sighing, Star released the tortoiseshell clip that held her shoulder-length hair off her neck. The long flight had given her a headache. She shook out her hair, running slender fingers through it and grimacing as the driver hit another big pothole on the country road that led to the house. How many holes were there on this rugged road? Did they have to hit them all? “Almost there.” Willard, the driver, might have been reading her thoughts. She smiled and looked out the window. The countryside really was quite pretty. They’d just taken a slight curve that put them into a woodsy area. Gently rolling hills spread to the right. Then they turned again and followed a narrow path that curved along an everroughening road. Next she saw stone walls looming ahead of them, and some sort of entryway that might actually be 1

Susan Cody a drawbridge. Astonished, she leaned forward to address the driver. “Is that where we’re going?” “Yes, ma’am.” “But that’s a castle.” “Indeed.” As Willard spoke, he steered the car through the high gate and continued on the dirt path that led to a huge stone structure at the far end of the enclosed courtyard. It had to be five hundred yards from the gate to the building, she guessed, thinking of football fields as an imaginary measure. The stone walls that formed the protective border were massive, nearly as high as the twostory house they approached. Star struggled to take it all in from the car window. Dr. West had mentioned a large house, a place where Star would be wrapped in quiet and comfort while she relaxed. She’d never called it a castle. As Willard stopped the car by the front door, however, Star could think of no other word to describe it. He opened her door and offered a hand to help her out, then went to deal with her bags while she stood like the country bumpkins she’d seen in the city staring up at the Empire State Building. The main building had three sections. Straight ahead of her, stone steps led up to double wooden doors that looked strong enough to keep out marauding vandals, which was probably exactly what they were built for. One long wing jutted out to the left with part of that wall covered in ivy and edged with low flowering bushes in pinks and whites near the ground. To the right stood a tower of some sort, attached to the main building but taller by a good half. A turret, she thought it might be called. Probably where the army stood watch to thwart any attacks. Willard lined her bags neatly along the front steps, then opened the heavy door, gesturing for Star to enter. She did and immediately gasped. A massive chandelier hung over the entryway, sparkling with tiny lights. Beyond that, a great hall ended with a wide staircase that led to the second floor. Corridors stretched both right and left off the hall, leading to the other wings, Star assumed. 2

Time to Keep She took a few tentative steps inside and turned around. “So there is electricity.” “Of course, ma’am,” Willard replied, as he headed for the stairs. “Well, not through the entire keep, but enough so that you’ll not be wanting for anything.” She followed him up the heavy stone steps to the second floor and into an enormous bedroom. “The master’s chamber,” he said, setting her bags like soldiers along one wall. As eager as she was to set up a fax machine and pick up her email via her laptop, she took a moment to admire the room. An enormous four-poster bed, laden with thick red covers that looked like velvet, backed against the left wall. Piles of pillows in shades of white and cream propped against an ornate headboard. In the precise middle of the far wall, a thick-paned window offered a view of the grounds. Skirting a tidy writing table, she stepped to the window ledge and saw tangled gardens, neatly trimmed grass, and just beyond the castle walls, a meandering stream. It was almost too perfect to be real. Which was why Dr. West wanted her to rest here, she realized. “In case you feel a chill.” Willard gestured toward the fireplace on the wall opposite the bed. “It’s far too dear to heat the whole keep, so here’s your warmth should you need it.” She turned from the heavy armoire she’d been admiring and nodded, noting a fire laid and ready for the tinder, in case she required it. She could just imagine cuddling there in the chill of a starry evening. “The keep,” she repeated. “Is that the name for the house?” “Yes, ma’am. Most people think this is the castle, but that actually refers to the entire estate.” Star nodded, not really eager for a history lesson just now. But she needn’t have worried as Willard continued the tour. The bathroom adjoined the bedchamber and looked sufficiently modernized for the comfort of a city girl. Then he led her back downstairs and turned toward the longer wing to show her the kitchen. “If you need anything,” Willard said, “just pick up this phone.” He indicated a heavy black telephone sitting on a small table near the kitchen doorway. It was the old3

Susan Cody fashioned kind of telephone with a rotary dial. “Much of our appeal here is the peace and quiet, so we leave you quite alone. But if you find anything lacking, anything at all, this telephone connects directly to our staff.” “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she said, following him back to the great hall. “What’s on the other side?” She started toward the opposite wing. “No!” Willard’s sharp insistence stopped her directly beneath the chandelier. She turned, eyeing him curiously. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing. You just shouldn’t go in there.” She already felt as if she were starring in a gothic novel. She couldn’t help a small smile. “Why not? Is it haunted?” “Haunted, ma’am? No, of course not. It’s just that the tower has never been wired for electricity. I wouldn’t want you to stumble in the darkness. You could be injured.” “Oh, of course.” Willard’s expression didn’t change. “Will there be anything else, then?” “I guess that’s all,” she said as she looked around for her purse. Where had she left it? “Let me just get something for you.” He shook his head. “It’s already taken care of.” And then he left, closing the front door softly. She stood in the entryway, listening to the car start up, then the crunch of tires as he drove away. The sounds faded, leaving her with a quiet she seldom experienced in her chaotic life. The bustle of New York City crept into her tiny apartment at all hours of the night. Here, she heard nothing but the distant hum of the refrigerator. Yet it was oddly comforting. Star glanced at her watch, which she’d set to local time, and realized it was too early in the morning for anyone to be in her office in New York. She’d flown all night. While her colleagues slept, she’d crossed the Atlantic. What a great chance to get an early jump on the day. She could be settled in and ready to go to work before the office opened in New York. Perfect. Giving the forbidden corridor a wide berth, she returned to the bedchamber. She picked up her laptop 4

Time to Keep case and carried it to the small table next to the bed. The high-tech equipment looked ridiculously out of place on the period furniture, but it served her purpose. While she waited for the computer to boot, she opened a suitcase and began placing her toiletries in the adjoining bathroom. She noted with delight a clawfoot bathtub in the large room. They certainly poured on the charm here, she thought. She could see why Dr. West recommended the place. It was as quaint and cozy as a dank, dark castle could get. As she walked back into the bedroom, she realized she might get some rest and still keep on top of her ongoing projects in New York. The computer hummed in readiness, fully booted, so she launched the software “hot spot” search that would find access to the Internet via her wireless connection. Realizing that might take a while, she went back to her bigger suitcase and began putting her clothes in the armoire. Finished with that chore, she returned to the laptop and saw to her dismay that the computer had not found a connection. No problem, she thought, unzipping a pocket on the laptop carrier. She pulled out a phone cord and looked around for a telephone receptacle, even getting down on her knees to look behind the headboard. No phone plug. No phone. Then she remembered what Willard told her. The phone in the kitchen went directly to the staff, leaving her no way to call out. So dial-up wasn’t an option either. Star sighed in exasperation, wondering why she hadn’t thought to have someone check into this before she came. She’d just naturally assumed that she’d find a connection anywhere in the world these days. But she had one more trick up her sleeve. After returning the phone cord to its position in the laptop case, she picked up a large leather backpack that held her most essential items. She popped open the specially designed compartment and took out her cellular telephone. Here, she knew, would be Internet connection via satellite. It wasn’t as convenient as the laptop, but she could make it work. Impatient now, she sat down on the edge of the bed 5

Susan Cody and flipped open the phone, puzzled to find it turned off. Hadn’t she used it to check messages after landing at Heathrow? She pressed the power button and waited, tapping her foot against the heavy stone floor. Finally, the little screen flashed. The words “No Service” appeared, then “Shutting Down.” “No!” she shouted in spite of her usually quiet manner. The instrument operated on a satellite network. There had to be a way to get service. She’d checked and rechecked with her company’s IT department before she agreed to this trip. Good grief! Was she really stranded in a gothic English castle—keep, she corrected herself—with absolutely no access to any kind of communication? No. She still had the phone in the kitchen. Maybe she could find someone to help her locate a hot spot. There had to be a way. At the very least she could call her office and keep in contact via telephone. On the way downstairs she eyed the left wing, wondering whether Willard were really concerned about her safety. More likely, whoever owned this place was hoping to avoid a lawsuit if the overeager American stumbled down the dungeon stairs in darkness. She probably would never have given it a thought except for the fact that she’d been all but forbidden to walk down that dark corridor. At the bottom of the stairs, she turned toward the kitchen despite the allure of the unknown hallway. Sighing heavily, she picked up the black telephone receiver. Instead of a dial tone, she heard an unfamiliar chirp on the other end, and then, “Good morning, Miss Prescott.” Unbelievable! Willard hadn’t been kidding. There was someone waiting to take care of her every need. “How may I help you, please?” “Um, sorry. The United States. New York City. I need to place a call.” She recited the number for the pleasant-voiced woman on the other end. “So sorry, madam. The long distance is busy right now.” “Busy?” “Yes’m. I can take the number and ring you back if I 6

Time to Keep get through.” If she gets through? Star drew a deep breath and tried to remain calm. “I’m sorry. I’m new here. Let me just understand. Long distance to the States is not available all the time?” “No, sorry. It will be soon, though. They’re upgrading all our equipment next year.” Next year. Star felt sick to her stomach. “All right then. Let’s try something else. Do you know where there might be any hot spots?” “Hot spots, madam? D’you mean like a spa or something?” “No, I mean like a wireless Internet connection.” “Oh-h-h-h-h. I’ve heard of those.” Oh, good. So she hadn’t dreamed that whole technology thing, after all. “And is there one nearby?” “London, I s’pose.” Oh, dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. This could not be happening to her. “Okay, then. Just keep trying New York and call me back, please.” “Sure. Just relax. Enjoy your stay. I’ll ring you back later.” “Thank you.” Star hung up the phone and pressed the palm of her hand against the blooming headache between her eyes. The little squiggly lines appeared at the edges of her field of vision. The same squiggly lines that had signaled the beginning of her health problems. They meant her blood pressure was high. She’d been ordered to lie quietly in a darkened room if they returned. So she headed back up the stairs, yanked the pretty covers off the bed and lay down completely dressed. As she drifted off to sleep, she heard noises. The old building probably creaked and groaned all the time. But her unleashed imagination convinced her that these sounds came from the dungeon. **** Star felt as if she’d only slept a few minutes, but she couldn’t explain the light seeping through the heavy windowpanes. She should see the bright sunshine of afternoon. Instead the light was dim with a rosy cast. Almost as if it were dawn. She stretched and looked at her watch. Five o’clock? In the morning? It couldn’t be. 7

Susan Cody She went to the window and looked out. Yes, that was the sun on the horizon. Could she possibly have slept through the night? She must have. That sun was definitely rising. She’d slept more than seventeen hours! As she looked out on the grounds, the sun lit the beautiful flowers and hedges she’d glanced at yesterday. It was very pretty. She would enjoy a walk down the lovely path toward the stream. That might be fun to explore later, she thought. First, she was ravenously hungry. After a hot bath, Star dressed in jeans and a cashmere sweater. She usually skipped breakfast, but she hadn’t eaten in so long she didn’t even try to calculate when she’d had her last meal. In the kitchen she found eggs, bread, sausages, and coffee. It was the best breakfast she’d eaten in, well, maybe ever. She wished she had a New York Times to read while she ate, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She’d read yesterday’s from one end to the other on the airplane, and while she still had it in her bag, she didn’t relish the thought of reading it twice. Besides, she was starting to kind of enjoy the isolation. When she’d eaten and cleaned up her dishes, the telephone lured her back. She picked it up, waited for the chirp, and got ready to ask about her call. Instead, her ring was answered with, “Sorry, madam. Haven’t been able to get New York for you yet.” Unbelievable. She was living in the English equivalent of Mayberry. “Are you the only one there?” The woman giggled. “O’ course not. There’s Beatrice, too.” Of course not. “What’s your name?” “Betsy.” “Well, Betsy, I’d really like to get in touch with my office in New York. Do you think that will happen today?” “Could be,” Betsy said far too cheerfully. “Although it’s a bit early now, isn’t it? What with the time change and all.” “Yes, Betsy. It’s too early now. Could you try a little later on?” “Sure thing, love.” Oh, good. She’d gone from “madam” to “love.” Star 8

Time to Keep hung up, satisfied that Betsy would do her best, which probably wouldn’t be good enough, but it wasn’t her fault, so no need to get frustrated with her. Maybe this would be a good time to explore the garden. If she went now, she wouldn’t have to worry about missing her call if by some miracle Betsy did manage to get through. Back upstairs, she tugged on a pair of brown leather boots that had cost far too much. They were more suited to the sidewalks of Madison Avenue than the damp grasses of an English country garden, but they were what she had. She descended the stairs, intending to go through the dining hall to the kitchen and out the back way, but just as she reached the great hall, the sound of a door slamming startled her. She turned away from the kitchen and cautiously approached the dark corridor that led to the tower. She’d seen far too many horror films to head down a darkened hallway when she’d been expressly forbidden, but she also knew she was alone in the keep. And she didn’t believe in ghosts. As she entered the corridor, a shiver ran up her spine. Too many Stephen King books, she chastised herself and kept going. There was just some door or window left open somewhere. She intended to close it because it would be difficult enough to stay warm in the drafty, dank bedchamber without the added winds from the outside swirling through the halls. In just a few paces, the darkness closed around her. No windows, no sunlight, no electric lights. She saw a torch in a wall bracket and thought that was useless without a match, but in the gray shadows she spotted a small container holding long wooden matches as if they were an arrangement of straw flowers. She lifted the torch by its wooden handle and immediately smelled some kind of fuel. Kerosene? She wasn’t sure, but she’d been a girl scout long enough to know that a well-placed spark would light her way down the dark hall. She chose a match from the holder and scraped it against the rough wall. Immediately a blast of air coursed through the hall and extinguished the flame. That only served to strengthen her resolve. She would find the door or 9

Susan Cody window left open, and she would have a word with Willard about it next time she saw him. Shielding the torch from the drafts with her body, she huddled against a nook in the wall and struck another match. This time the torch caught before the wind could get to it. Holding the flame out before her, she advanced slowly, ever aware that this was not the safest thing she could be doing. But Star had not made it to the top of her highly competitive field without taking risks. So she went on. The torch provided just enough light to see a few feet ahead of her and offered warmth to counter the natural chill of the stone fortress. Every now and then, a draft swept down the corridor, danced with the flame and sped past her. That only made her more determined to find the source of the pesky draft. She rounded corners carefully, following the sound of the wind. Thick old tapestries hung on the wall, lending a mustiness to the air. The heels of her boots clicked ominously against the stone flooring. As she moved forward, she felt as if the passageway sloped downward, perhaps to the dungeon she hadn’t really expected to exist. The shadows lengthened as the air grew chillier. At last she came to a crossing hallway and realized she didn’t know which way led back to the great hall. She didn’t let it bother her. Eventually, she knew, she would come back around again. The tower wasn’t that big. But in another few minutes, she began to let doubt creep in. Especially when the flame began to dwindle. Out of fuel. Perfect. She swung the torch around her in a high arc, looking for something to guide her back to the front of the keep. Ahead of her, the corridor ended with a heavy wooden door, embellished with stars and moons carved into its surface. Maybe something leftover from the druids, she thought. As she was about to turn away, she noticed light seeping under the doorway. Oh, good. This door must lead outside. From there she could find her way around to the front again. She was surprised at the amount of relief that swept through her. She hadn’t really been scared, had she? Laughing at herself, she turned the intricate iron latch and pushed on the heavy wooden door. 10

Time to Keep It didn’t budge. She put her shoulder into it and shoved again. This time she felt the door giving way. She stepped through...

11

Susan Cody

Chapter Two At first Star thought another one of those high blood pressure episodes assailed her. The air around her grew thick and cold, making her fight to move through it. She felt as if someone had reached inside her chest and grabbed a fistful of her lungs. Breathing was not an option. A high-pitched whistling sound had her struggling to cover her ears with her hands. The pressure in her chest became unbearable, the ear-splitting noise even worse. Suddenly some force propelled her forward, unseen hands pushing her through the thickness to the other side. She landed in a heap, as if she’d been dropped from a high distance. Taking big gulps of air into her lungs, Star quickly realized she’d landed face down in the grass. She turned her head to the side, spitting grass, only to have her hair get in the way instead. Her limbs felt heavy, as if they were not her own but someone else’s tacked onto her body. Struggling to sit up, she discovered her strength sapped and fell back into the grass. “Bloody hell! Are you all right, miss?” Star mumbled in response. Her tongue didn’t seem to be working right, and she still had hair in her face. “What’s that?” The voice was much closer now, as if the man were kneeling beside her. Surprisingly gentle hands moved her hair from her face. “Are you all right?” She tried again. “I think so.” Her voice must have sounded as weak to the man as it did to her. He touched her carefully, as if he were afraid he’d hurt her. “Shall we try sitting up, then?” Bolstered by the optimism in his voice, she rolled with the hand on her shoulder and managed to pull herself into a sitting position. Shaking the hair out of her face, she laid a hand on his arm to steady herself. And met the most incredible pair of sapphire eyes she’d ever seen. 12

Time to Keep He was young, she noticed first, probably in his twenties. He wore casual black pants, a white T-shirt, and a leather jacket with enough zippers to rival Marlon Brando in The Wild One. Dark brown hair swept away from his high forehead and curled wildly in the back. His square jaw and sculpted cheekbones made him extremely handsome. The eyes were just an added bonus. And she was ogling him, she realized. Not only because of the eyes. Something about him seemed very familiar. As if she’d known him for a long time. “Everything all right, miss?” “Yes, thank you. I don’t know what happened. Must be jet lag.” Straightening, he reached for her arm to help her up, then stopped abruptly. “Oh, that’s a nasty scrape on your forehead. You must’ve hit the ground really hard.” Star put a hand to her brow, remembering with sudden clarity skidding across the ground when she fell. The gouge didn’t feel very deep, but it did sting like crazy, now that her full attention focused on it. She did a quick inventory of the rest of her body parts to see whether anything else was injured. Except for a vague soreness, everything seemed fine. “Come on, then,” he said, putting a hand beneath her elbow to help her to her feet. “Let’s get that cleaned up.” When he helped her stand, she looked behind her, expecting to see the door she’d opened, maybe even the outer wall of the tower. Instead she saw a thick hedgerow. Had she come through there? Maybe those branches had caused the gouge on her forehead. But where was the castle? He prodded her gently toward the yard of a small cottage just across a dirt road from the hedgerow. “Is this where you live?” she asked, puzzled as to her location and a little bit confused. Maybe it was the blow to her head. She’d be all right in a moment, she was sure. “M’ mum lives here. I have a flat in Manchester. Mum’s not home just now, but come in and let me clean that up for you. It looks nasty.” Despite the charmingly British way he clipped the word “my,” she pondered the wisdom of going into an empty house with a strange man, but something about 13

Susan Cody him pulled at her memory, as if she knew him from somewhere. She had definitely seen those eyes before. But where? “Okay.” “No need to worry,” he said in a soothing voice that she found reassuring. “I don’t have plans to play the big bad wolf this afternoon.” She gave him a weak smile as she followed him toward the cottage door on wobbly legs. Perhaps she hadn’t completely recovered from that fall yet. “Did you say afternoon? What time is it?” He glanced at her as if she were crazy and turned the simple watch on his wrist. It was an old-fashioned timepiece with a thick black leather band that reminded her of the Timex her grandfather used to wear. “It’s almost four.” “Four o’clock? In the afternoon?” How could that be? She’d been confused about the time when she woke up, but Betsy had confirmed for her that it was early morning. “Are you sure?” “See?” He twisted his arm to bring his watch close to her face. Then he dropped it and pointed over her shoulder, back down the narrow path. “There’s your afternoon sun if you don’t believe me.” She looked in the direction of his hand, startled to see the sun on the downhill slide when, just moments before, she’d looked out her window and seen it rising over the meadow. Beyond the hedge in the distance, the turrets of her castle stood against the bright blue sky, perhaps half a mile away. “That’s strange.” “Come on,” he said with his hand on the doorknob. “Let’s get you inside. You look a bit pale.” Disoriented, Star let him lead her inside. Though small, the house overflowed with charm in an oldfashioned kind of way. The furniture looked well-worn but comfortable. Homemade needlecrafts scattered about reminded Star of her grandmother’s home. She didn’t have time to absorb it all as the man ushered her quickly through to the cozy kitchen at the back of the house. He pulled out a vinyl-padded metal chair and seated her at a Formica-topped table, the kind her parents had in their first home when she was little. The familiarity of it helped to soothe her, but she was still out of sorts about 14

Time to Keep the fact that she’d lost so much time. Had she blacked out when she fell? Had she lain there for hours until this man came along? Maybe the blow to her head was worse than she thought. While he rummaged in a cupboard for something to clean her gash with, she glanced around the kitchen. The appliances looked as old as the furniture. Either his mother was of extremely modest means or she just liked the retro style. He came back to the table with a brown glass bottle and a thick gauze pad. She watched him douse the pad with liquid then gently wipe at the bloody scrapes on her forehead. It stung ferociously, but she tried to tough it out. Besides, she was enjoying the touch of his hand, gentle yet sure. Still, when the liquid hit the deepest cut, she jumped and instinctively jerked her head away from his gauze pad with the stinging liquid. “It’s okay,” he said reassuringly. He looked at her, and she all but fell into those deep blue eyes. They were magnetic. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew him from somewhere. “Relax, love.” He stroked her forehead with his long fingers, sending shivers through her. “What’s your name?” “Star Prescott,” she said, feeling almost like a child in the doctor’s office as he tried to distract her from the stinging medicine. “Star,” he said, his deep voice rumbling over her like a silken comforter on a cold evening. “That’s unusual. But very pretty. I’m Colin.” “Colin Kendall,” she said, barely breathing the name on a whisper. He arched one eyebrow. “You know who I am?” Did she know who he was? Every person in the universe knew who he was. Lead singer, lead guitarist, mastermind of the British rock band, One River Down. Of course she knew who he was. Her parents had raised her on his music. They had every album on vinyl. Star had them herself on CD. But this was a young man. Colin Kendall was…she closed her eyes for a moment, thinking. He’d be at least sixty years old now. “Star?” She opened her eyes, looked at him. No wonder he 15

Susan Cody looked familiar. But how could he be so young? She thought for a moment about the way he was dressed, the retro look of his clothing, the shaggy sixties haircut. The strange movement of the sun. And that episode…whatever it was…when she came through the door. He would think she was crazy, but maybe she was. “What year is it?” “Seriously? What year is it?” He waited for her to nod. “Well, it’s ’62, then, isn’t it?” Maybe she was crazy. “Nineteen sixty-two.” “Sure.” A fine tremble shivered through her. She didn’t know how to tell him that she was from forty-five years in his future. She decided not to even try. Besides, she wasn’t sure she believed it, although she couldn’t imagine any other explanation for the strange circumstances. Somehow she’d gone back in time when she stepped through that heavy wooden door with the strange markings carved into it. That was the reason for the odd sensations. The spinning, the whistling, the compression of air. “How’d you know m’ name, then?” Good question. She took a gamble. “Your music.” “You’ve seen me and the boys play?” His eyes sparkled at the mention of his band. Fighting the fine edge of panic, she cast about in her memory for what she knew about the early days of One River Down. Hadn’t they played in some local clubs? Surely she could dredge up the name of at least one of them. He saved her the trouble. “You must’ve seen us play the Corner Club.” Ah, yes. That was it. “Exactly,” she said. “Well, I hope you liked it.” She didn’t know how to answer that. She liked all of his music, much of which most likely he had yet to write. She murmured an answer and pretended great interest in her injury. He seemed to accept that as he finished carefully wiping grass bits off her skin. “You’re American, aren’t you?” “Yes, from New York. I’m vacationing at the castle down the road.” 16

Time to Keep “The castle? That overgrown pile of rubble? You’re staying there?” A fine thread of panic whipped through her. The castle must be abandoned in his time. She struggled to save her secret. “They’re renovating it.” “Well, that’s nice, then, isn’t it? How long do you reckon you’ll stay?” “Three weeks.” He dabbed at her forehead although she was certain he’d cleaned the wound thoroughly. Perhaps now he just wanted to keep touching her. She had no objection to that. As crazy as her world turned right now, the tactile connection was oddly comforting. All of the pieces fit neatly. Another shiver ran through her. How had this happened? And more importantly, how would she get back to her own life?

17

Susan Cody

Chapter Three Star didn’t know what to do next. He sat down in the chair opposite her at the table and looked at her as if expecting her to say something. She didn’t know what had happened to her, but she felt strongly that she shouldn’t tell him. “I suppose I should get back to the castle,” she said, starting to stand. “I’ve bothered you long enough.” He put out a hand, as if to cast some magic spell on her. “I wish you would stay.” She sat back down, almost against her will. She was attracted to him in a way she’d not experienced in quite some time. Not just because he was the world’s most famous rock star. She didn’t see that person at all right now. What she saw was a quiet man with simple thoughts and gentle ways. The larger-than-life man who cavorted across the concert stage would come later. This man, this quiet pensive man across from her, attracted her on an intellectual level. And he was gorgeous to boot. When he shrugged out of his leather jacket, she watched the muscles bunch under the worn cotton of the white T-shirt. “Would you fancy a pot of tea?” he asked. “I was thinking that would be good about now.” “I must be keeping you from something.” “No, nothing important.” Fascinated, she watched the ease with which he moved about the kitchen, filling the kettle. His height dwarfed the feminine appliances. “But you don’t live here anymore. There must be a reason you came.” He smiled. “To visit Mum. And you see how much she cared. She and Jeannie ran off to some big sale.” He shook his head. “I’ll never understand girls and shoes.” Jeannie. His sister. She would die of breast cancer in her thirties. The song he would write about her courage would win a Grammy for One River Down. One of many 18

Time to Keep Grammys. “What were you planning to do while they’re shopping?” Finished with the kettle, he turned and smiled at her. “Well, I did plan to crash a wedding nearby. I’ve heard about this band that’s playing the reception. Thought I’d see what the fuss is about.” “And I kept you from that.” “It’s okay. Really.” He smiled again. Star wondered whether she were still asleep upstairs in the castle bedchamber, dreaming all of this. Something didn’t feel quite right. As if the sensations from earlier lingered within her. She touched exploring fingers to the cut on her forehead and cringed. She was definitely awake. Colin rushed forward, leaning over her with a frown. “Does it hurt?” His concern was touching, but she knew better than to get used to it. She smiled. “Only when I touch it.” She watched his smile spread slowly across his face as he realized she was teasing him. His eyes were very close to hers as he bent over her, so close that she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. As gradually as it had spread, his smile faded, replaced with the magnetic pull of sexual awareness. Star couldn’t believe it, but she was sure he was about to kiss her. Until the sharp whistle of the kettle interrupted. He straightened abruptly and tended to the water. “How do you take your tea, then?” She chuckled. “In a tall glass of ice with lemon.” “Oh, right. You’re American.” “But it’s okay. Fix mine the way you do yours. I’ll learn.” “If you’re sure.” He looked over his shoulder at her, the sexual pull gone now. “I’m heavy on milk and sugar.” She shrugged. “Let’s try it.” While he fussed with the tea, Star stood up, feeling steadier on her feet now but definitely still affected by coming through the tower door. Trying to avoid his notice, she looked around for more clues that her outrageous theory was correct. The newspaper that lay folded on the kitchen counter had a date of July 21, 1962. There was no microwave in the kitchen. No 19

Susan Cody telephone. No dishwasher. Things that she took for granted either didn’t exist yet or weren’t yet affordable for widespread consumption. She wandered toward the living room. They’d come through it so rapidly that she hadn’t had the chance to look. They did have a television, she noted, but it was an old one. Well, probably not old, now that she thought of it. Most likely it was relatively new. But it was small with rabbit ears on the top. There wouldn’t be cable yet. “How different is our home from yours?” Star turned to see him standing in the doorway with a tray in his hands. Something told her he rarely went to this much trouble for a cup of tea. He was trying to impress her. That made her smile. “Not that different.” She thought of her twenty-first century high-rise in Manhattan. The difference was incomprehensible. But the home she’d grown up in was very similar to this one, except that hers had been in a suburban New Jersey neighborhood on a cul-de-sac with a gate at the entrance. He set the tray on a mahogany coffee table, then lifted a cup for her. “Let’s see how you like this, then.” She took the cup from him, intensely aware of his long fingers brushing hers in the action. Sitting on the floral-printed settee, she took a sip. The drink was far sweeter than anything she usually drank, but not that much different from a flavored latte at Starbucks. She enjoyed it. And she couldn’t forget the fact that Colin Kendall had made it for her. She’d be the envy of thousands of women, her mother included. “It’s very good,” she said, and she meant it. He sat down on the far end of the settee, looking quite awkward as he tried to fit his lengthy frame into the feminine décor. He sipped his tea, watching her over the rim of the cup. “I’m sorry for staring,” he said. “You’re just so different from the girls I usually meet.” Oh, if he only knew! For one thing, most people call them women in her time, not girls. But she didn’t feel the need to raise his consciousness. Soon enough she’d finish her tea, plunge back through the portal, and this whole episode would seem like a dream to her. She spotted a guitar leaning against the wall in the 20

Time to Keep corner. “May I?” she asked. “Of course.” He picked it up. “Do you play?” “I used to. My dad had an old Gibson. I tinkered with it a bit.” Star put her teacup on the tray and settled the guitar across her lap. It had been a very long time, but her fingers remembered a few basic chords. The instrument was in tune, indicating to her that he must have been playing it recently. She gave the strings a tentative strum, but the sound was less than pleasing. “I guess I’ve forgotten more than I thought.” “No, you’re almost there. Arch your hand.” He held his left hand up in front of her to show her what he meant. “You’re letting your fingers touch the strings.” She tried again, but her nails were too long to allow the proper position. Colin stood and came around to her left side to help her. “Just curve your hand a bit more.” He placed his large hand over hers, trying to show her the position, but he couldn’t quite get the proper angle on the instrument. “Move over,” he said. Star scooted over and Colin sat down beside her. He put his right arm around her shoulder and touched the body of the guitar while his left followed the arc of her arm up to the guitar’s neck. It was as intimate as a lover’s embrace. She could feel the heat of his body through the soft cotton of his T-shirt penetrating through her cashmere sweater to her skin. Still, she managed to find the finger position as he instructed and strummed a simple chord progression correctly. “Excellent!” he said. “Now you can play in a rock and roll band. That’s all you need to know right there.” Laughing, she turned her head and saw how dangerously close he was to her. His eyes were on hers again with that dark awareness that she’d felt in the kitchen. His smile vanished. He shifted his gaze to her lips. Before she had time to register it, Colin moved the final distance between them and kissed her. His full lips caressed hers with a softness that surprised her. He moved his right hand to the back of her head, winding his fingers into her hair. She could only hold onto the guitar and let him kiss her. The sensations swirling through her were as exciting as her first kiss at 21

Susan Cody age fifteen. Perhaps because it had been a while since she’d been in a relationship. Perhaps because he was Colin Kendall. She didn’t know. Furthermore, she didn’t care. The man could flat out kiss the pants off a marble statue. At last he lifted his head. “Well,” he said. “That was as nice as I’d hoped.” “Yes,” she said, embarrassed at the weakness in her voice. It was decidedly nice. Too nice. She couldn’t possibly let anything happen between them. She had to go back to her own time. And soon. Shifting, she moved the guitar and edged away, creating some space between them so she could better concentrate. “It was indeed nice, but I have to get back to the castle. I do appreciate all your help this afternoon.” He frowned. “So soon? I was hoping we could get to know each other better.” How much better? He’d already gotten closer to her than any man in recent memory. But this was too dangerous. She had to get back through that portal before she did something stupid. Like fall in love with him. “I’d like that. I really would. But I have to go.” He didn’t let her up that easily. “How about tomorrow? Suppose I come ’round for you then?” “You mean like a date or something?” He smiled, touched her cheek with a tenderness that made her tremble inside. “Or something. I’ll come ’round for you tomorrow about noon. How’s that?” That was incredibly confusing. Whose tomorrow? Hers or his? But all she said to him was, “Sure.” He leaned in and gave her a little kiss on the cheek, barely a brush of lips on skin. Still, it was enough to delight her in ways that she had forgotten in her lonely life on the corporate fast track. “Thank you for the tea,” she said, standing. “I enjoyed it.” He stood, too. “My pleasure. I’ll walk you back.” “No.” She couldn’t let him do that. She wasn’t sure what would happen when she went back through the door. That was if she could find it again in the thick hedgerow. “Thank you. I’ll be fine.” Reluctantly he accepted her decision and didn’t press her. He walked with her to the front door, but left her 22

Time to Keep there. Star headed out into the late summer afternoon, feeling a chill that might have nothing to do with the weather. With trepidation she headed back toward the hedgerow, wobbling a bit, she noted. What would happen when she went back to the other side of the door? Would she return to 2007 or stay in 1962? Or had that entire encounter been a dream? She walked quickly back down the dirt path, scanning the bushes for a break that would reveal the portal. It wasn’t as hard to find as she’d feared. Her plunge from the future had flattened the grass where she fell and skidded. She squatted in front of the hedge and with trembling hands parted the branches. Would she go back to her own time? She was almost afraid to find out. A wave of nausea rushed over her. Nerves, she decided. Anticipation of the trip back. She drew in a deep breath, then plunged through hands first, like a swimmer diving into a pool. This time the whistling came first. Then the squeezing in her lungs. It was a good thing that she’d taken that breath before she leaped over because it was more intense than before. She felt almost as if she were swimming through a cold thick soup, invisible but heavy. And unless she imagined it, the sensations lasted longer this time. Even with the breath, she thought her lungs would explode before she made the transition. Just when she thought she’d pass out from lack of air, the forces let go of her, almost as if they dropped her, and she fell to her knees on the cold stone floor of the corridor, gasping in huge puffs of dank stale air. She stretched out on the floor, gathering her strength and her breath as she heard the heavy door close behind her. She lay still for several minutes, waiting for her pulse to calm, for her arms and legs to stop the tremble caused by her fright or by the crossing through time. She didn’t know which. She didn’t care. Finally she stood up and steadied herself with a palm flat against the rough wall. Carefully she made her way back along the dark hallway without the aid of the torch this time. For some reason, she felt she knew the way to the great hall. She trusted her instincts and made her way carefully along the 23

Susan Cody corridor. In just moments, she rounded a corner and saw the gleaming chandelier in the entryway. She sighed with relief and turned toward the staircase, but the sound of the telephone halted her. She hurried instead toward the kitchen and grabbed the receiver. “Hello?” “Oh, there you are.” It was the ever-cheerful voice of Betsy. “I’ve been ringing you for hours. I had New York for you.” “I must have stayed out in the garden longer than I thought. What time is it now, Betsy?” “Almost five.” So she didn’t come back to exactly the same time that she left. Star gave her head a shake. Did she actually believe she’d traveled in time? “Could you try again for me, please, Betsy?” “Sure thing. I’ll ring you back.” “Great. Thanks.” She started to hang up, but hesitated. “Betsy?” “Yes?” “Isn’t Colin Kendall from around here?” “Who?” “Colin Kendall. From One River Down.” “What is that? Something from American telly?” A cold fist of fear gripped Star in the belly. “No, it’s a rock band. From the sixties. You don’t know them?” “Can’t say that I ever heard of them, sorry.” “You know The Beatles, right? And The Stones?” “Of course. Everybody in the world who’s not livin’ in a cave knows them.” Star agreed. And they also knew One River Down. Then why didn’t Betsy? “But not Colin Kendall and One River Down?” “Sorry.” Star finished the conversation and hung up with Betsy’s promise to get the New York office for her as soon as she could. In the meantime, she was ravenous. That big breakfast had been more than eight hours ago. And maybe more than forty years. She went to the refrigerator, pondering any possible reasons why Betsy wouldn’t know Colin and his band. Staring at the well-stocked shelves, she couldn’t 24

Time to Keep shake the feeling that something was really wrong. Dread replaced hunger in her stomach. She let the refrigerator door swing shut and raced up the stairs. She picked up her leather backpack and dumped it on the bed, its contents spilling over the thick velvet coverlet and rolling onto the hard stone floor. Pushing papers aside, she spotted her iPod, picked it up, shoved the tiny white buds into her ears. One of her playlists featured only songs by One River Down. She nervously pushed the buttons, scrolling, searching. “Star in the Night,” arguably the band’s most famous hit, had special significance to her. It was the first song her mother and father had danced to on the night they met. The song was a quiet ballad with intricate guitar work and beautiful lyrics as the singer compared his love to a sparkling star in the dark night sky. Colin Kendall wrote it, played the guitar and sang the solo with the rest of his band backing him. It was the reason her name was Star. And it was gone from her iPod. She flipped through screens, panicked now. Her thumbs moved quickly over the tiny buttons as she tried to enter “One” in the search field. Then she tried “River.” Finally, “Star.” The song was not there. Neither were any of the other dozen or so songs by the band she’d kept in her favorites. They were all gone. Star stood in the middle of the bedroom, her fingers on the tiny instrument, chills shivering through her body as she tried to comprehend the incomprehensible. Something very wrong happened in the 1962 she’d just visited. If only she could get an Internet connection! Maybe she’d be able to find something, anything, about his life. When the telephone rang, she shrieked and jumped a foot. As she ran back downstairs to the kitchen, she realized with an ironic shudder that her blood pressure was likely off the charts right now. “Hello!” she all but shouted into the phone. “Here’s your call to New York, love.” Terrific! Something familiar would be very, very welcome. “Thank you.” “Ms. Prescott?” 25

Susan Cody Star heaved a sigh of relief. The receptionist’s voice was as comforting as a warm spring breeze. Finally, proof that her world existed as she knew it. “Hi, Tiffany. Could you get David for me, please?” “My pleasure. I wasn’t sure it was really you. The operator said your name was Star.” Her hand tightened around the receiver. If One River Down never recorded that song, her parents couldn’t have danced to it, and they wouldn’t have chosen Star for her name. “It’s a nickname,” she said, hiding her time travel problem. “You never heard it?” “No, sorry. I’ve only ever heard people call you Angie.” Angie. So they’d danced to the Stones instead. She supposed she should be glad her name wasn’t Ruby or Tuesday. “Okay, no problem. I’ll try not to confuse you again.” “Thanks, Ms. Prescott. Here’s David for you.” There was a faint click of the lines switching, and then the deep male voice of her business partner. “Angie! How’s it going across the pond? The old castle is charming and quiet?” Another familiar voice. It almost brought tears to her eyes. “It’s very charming,” she said. “And very quiet.” They talked for a bit about all the projects she’d left undone. She was glad to hear everything was going smoothly but a little worried that he was doing so well without her. Maybe he’d learn that he could handle everything by himself. Although when she thought about the fact that he called her Angie, her indispensability was really a rather small issue, wasn’t it? Just before she hung up, she turned the conversation to the English countryside. “The people here are very friendly. And I understand this is the area where Colin Kendall grew up.” “Who?” “Colin Kendall. One River Down.” She could hear him shuffling papers. “Not familiar with it.” “It’s a rock band. Kind of like The Beatles.” “No idea.” She could tell by his tone of voice that his attention 26

Time to Keep was no longer on her. Something had come across his desk that he was attempting to deal with while she kept him on the phone. It didn’t matter. She had the confirmation she’d been after. She and David had gone to a Colin Kendall concert at Madison Square Garden about three years ago. He knew she was a namesake of the hit song. “Well, I won’t keep you. Call me at this number if anything comes up. So far I haven’t been able to establish an Internet connection.” “Will do,” he said and dropped the receiver into its cradle leaving her with the faint and impersonal hum of unused telephone wires. Slowly she hung up the phone, almost unable to believe this strange series of events, but what had happened was quite clear to her. Something was supposed to happen to Colin Kendall today. Something that would propel One River Down into rock history. But instead, he’d spent the afternoon with her. And everyone in her world back home knew her as Angie. What else would be different? She went to the stove and put on the kettle to make tea, trying to avoid the truth that was bearing down on her. Opening the cabinet, she hoped to find a can of soup or stew, something easy to prepare that would knock the chill from her bones. Now that she was finished with her conversation, she realized that her hands shook. She clasped them together to try to stop the tremble, but it did nothing. All the time that she made tea, opened the soup can, ate her dinner, her mind stayed on the young man with the sapphire eyes who had kissed her senseless. He’d been planning to check out a band at a wedding reception. Must be someone in that band who was going to make a difference. Like when Paul McCartney met John Lennon at the famous garden party. Despite the fact that the second transition had been much harsher than the first, Star knew what she had to do. As frightening as the prospect was, she knew it was up to her. She had to go back. She had to find this band, get Colin together with them, and make sure that One River Down got the big break they were supposed to get. Resolutely she went through the motions of eating 27

Susan Cody the hot soup and cleaning the kitchen. Hoping to relieve the chill, she went to the fireplace in the bedchamber and started it blazing the way the driver had shown her. Had that been only two days ago? It seemed a lifetime. She sat on the hearth warming her bones, staring into the flames, pondering her fate. Feeling the heat touch her forehead, she put a hand on the scrape, remembered Colin’s gentle touch when he’d cleaned the injury for her. She had to go back to 1962. She had to make things right for him. When she let it really simmer in her mind, she knew it was the right thing to do. It was more than the fact that her name had changed. More than the catalogue of pop music missing from the world. There were charity events in his name. Starving children were fed because of the work he’d done in the seventies and eighties. There had been relief concerts for victims of the tsunami and Katrina. He’d stood on stages around the world next to Bono and Sting. All of these benefits vanished from a world that didn’t know Colin Kendall. Books went unwritten. Songs went unsung. Musical careers faltered without the influence of One River Down. She couldn’t go blithely back to New York City, answer to the name of Angie, and forget any of this ever happened. The fire popped and crackled as it burned down to the last ember. She must have been sitting there for hours thinking on these things. Funny how time had lost its familiarity since she’d been in this ancient castle. Hours sped by as if they were seconds. She threw another log on the fire and poked it before she got ready for bed. Sure it was the middle of summer, but this northern English countryside always had a chill at night. She didn’t look at her watch. She no longer cared what time it was. She was tired, and she was going to bed. She’d wake up when her body dictated. And then she’d face the terrifying heavy door, the loss of breath, the icy winds. She’d go back, no doubt of that. But what would she find when she got there?

28

Time to Keep

Chapter Four The sun streamed through the thick panes of the window when she woke up. She’d slept fitfully, dreaming about Colin Kendall. Not about his music, as she would have expected. No, these were sensual dreams in which he held her and kissed her. It had seemed so real that she almost expected to find him beside her in the bed when she opened her eyes. Pushing her hair out of her face, she sat up, looked around. There was no reason to expect things to look different, but she had an uneasy feeling. A foreboding, maybe. Why did she dream of him? Because he was on her mind? Was he somehow trying to lure her back to the other side of the door? Mechanically she went through the motions of bathing, getting dressed, preparing breakfast. She almost picked up the phone at one point. Just to hear the friendly but disembodied voice of Betsy on the other end. All through her morning routine, she mulled over the list of things she should take with her. Back upstairs, she emptied the big leather backpack and started packing it for her journey. She stuffed in her heaviest jacket. In the bathroom she picked up a few basics and threw those in as well. She decided against the cell phone. It wouldn’t work even if she could get a clear signal. But she did take the iPod. She just wanted that tactile link to her present. If it were necessary to prove that she came from his future, she’d need help. She looked around the room, thinking about it, when she spied the perfect thing on the small table beside her laptop—the New York Times she’d been reading on the plane, clearly marked with the date. She started to throw in some money, but everything would have recent dates on them—useless in 1962. She’d just have to go penniless. She dressed in jeans and a light sweater, pulled the brown boots on again, picked up her backpack, and 29

Susan Cody headed down the stairs, giving a fleeting thought to leaving a note. Just in case. Just in case what? What was the note supposed to say? Taking one last look around the great hall, she turned down the corridor that led to the tower. She didn’t take a torch this time. She knew she would find the door. It lured her with a pull she could almost feel tugging on her clothes. There was more of a chill in the air this morning. Maybe she just noticed it more, anticipating the freezing rush of the time portal. Shouldering her backpack, she trudged along the dark hall toward the back of the castle, toward Colin and 1962. She’d thought she might have trouble finding the right hallway. It shouldn’t have surprised her that she came to it almost immediately. As if some force wanted her to go back to 1962. She had the feeling that these events were being orchestrated by something more powerful than herself. Dropping her backpack, she put a hand against the heavy door and felt the biting cold from the other side. She stood quietly, listening, but no sound offered any hint of what lay beyond the door. She raised her other hand and placed it flat against the door as well, as if she could receive some message from the other side. She curled her hands into fists. There was nothing. Stalling, she told herself. She knew she was. What if she went through the cold time soup and came out in 1862? Or 1562? How did she know she’d go back to Colin? Didn’t matter. She had to try. She had to believe she would find him. She picked up her backpack, drew in the deepest breath she could hold and pushed with all her strength against the door. This time the wind roared past her like a blizzard. It was icy cold, cutting straight through her clothing to her bones in an instant. The high-pitched whistling might have been a scream, causing her to shiver in fright as well as cold. This time it wasn’t only her lungs that felt pressure. Something was pushing on her from all sides. Unseen hands pummeled her, top to bottom. Colored lights burst inside her eyelids in wild explosion and she started to feel the ragged edges of panic. It was too long 30

Time to Keep this time. She wouldn’t last. But in her mind, she saw the sapphire eyes of Colin Kendall, watching her, encouraging her with his expression. Somehow she moved a hand, as if reaching for him. And she fell through to the other side. Star collapsed on the grass, panting, trying desperately to replenish her body with badly needed oxygen. Gradually, her heart rate calmed. Her breaths slowed. She felt the warmth of the sun on her skin. With her eyes still closed, she took a quick inventory of her body. No scrapes or cuts this time. She must have landed on softer grass. Thank goodness for that. When she had recovered enough to sit up, Star saw she’d landed even closer to Colin’s house this time. A small copse of trees edged the grassy front lawn just a few yards away. When she thought her legs would hold her, she stood. Still unsteady on her feet, she made her way across the grass to the trees and sat down. She hadn’t expected to find him there immediately, but it was as good a place as any to wait while her body returned to normal. It was a beautiful day. The sun was high overhead, almost directly above her. She saw birds flitting among the trees and heard the buzzing of insects from flower to flower. Leaning back against the tree, she breathed deeply, expanding her lungs as fully as possible before letting the air flow softly out. Despite the circumstances, she felt at peace. In a moment she heard the noise of the front door opening and the crunch of shoes on the dirt path. She stood, a bit shaky on her legs, and waited until Colin noticed her and came to where she stood beside the trees. “I was beginning to think I’d dreamed you up,” he said when he was closer. Smiling, she took in the sight of him. Dressed today in casual black pants and a black turtleneck sweater, his look was Bohemian, like the burgeoning artist that he was. “Why is that?” “When I went ’round to the castle, it was abandoned. No one’s renovating it. No one’s staying there.” Star shifted nervously. Even if it were a five-star hotel, they wouldn’t know her at the castle. She wasn’t a guest there in his time. “You must have gone to the wrong 31

Susan Cody one.” His gaze fell on her stuffed backpack then slid back to her face. “I’ve lived here most of my life. Don’t know of another castle nearby.” Star had no answer to that. She didn’t know how to tell him the truth, that the tower held a magic portal linking two lives together that should be decades apart. She sidestepped instead. “Still visiting with your mother?” He looked at her a while longer, as if he knew she was dodging him and waiting to see whether she would change her mind. Star held his gaze steady and offered nothing else. “I think she’s had enough of me. I was about to head back to Manchester. Thought you might like to come along. I’ll bring you back whenever you like, or you can take the train.” “To Manchester?” She felt her eyes widen at the implications. “With you?” “Sure.” He held out a hand for her. She slipped hers into his easily, enjoying the connection. Hoisting her backpack over one shoulder, she fell into step beside him across the path to his car. He opened her door and held it wide as she settled in. Just two days ago, Star realized, she’d made this same trip from Manchester to the castle. Today, however, she rode in an old-fashioned car beside an intriguing young man. The streets were different, too, she observed. Not as wide, not as smooth. And certainly not as crowded. As English countryside sped past her window, she wondered how she would convince Colin to search for the band he didn’t meet yesterday. What would he say if she told him she’d traveled back to him from the twenty-first century to fix a world-changing mistake? Would he believe her? “You’re not like other girls,” he said, as if in tune with her thoughts. Turning, she studied him, his large hands on the steering wheel, his magnificently carved jaw. “How am I different?” “I can’t say just what it is. You seem kind of…sure of yourself, I guess. Like you don’t need any bloke to tell you 32

Time to Keep what to do. Does that make sense?” Of course it made sense. She’d dropped into the predawn hours of the women’s movement. “I think so.” “Like when I held out my hand by the tree. Most girls woulda just stood there expectin’ me to pick up your bag. But you went right for it. Are all American girls like that, or just you?” “I can’t speak for all American girls. But I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own bag. However you can carry it next time if it makes you feel better.” “Oh, now you’re just playing with me.” Star smiled and turned her gaze back to the roadway, singing in a soft voice, “She plays with my mind.” The teasing expression vanished from his face. “Where did you hear that?” he demanded. Star froze. She’d just sung a lyric from one of his songs that he probably hadn’t written yet. She tried to bluff her way through it, keeping her voice casual. “At the Corner Club, wasn’t it?” “Not bleedin’ likely. I haven’t even played that for the band yet. How did you hear it?” “Oh, then I guess you were singing it earlier.” She could tell that he didn’t buy it, but he also didn’t challenge her. Star couldn’t imagine what he must be thinking about her right now. She would have to be very careful to pull this off without giving away her big secret. Shivering, she dug her jacket from the backpack and slipped it on. She felt a bit light-headed—residual effect from the crossing, she decided—and dismissed it. Soon enough, they reached the relative bustle of Manchester. “Where are we going?” Star asked. “Just meeting some mates for a pint or two.” Meeting some mates. Was she about to have drinks with the members of One River Down? Some women would pay thousands of dollars for that experience. When he zipped into a parking spot, Star gathered her backpack and got out. The moment Colin opened the door to the pub, people turned toward him. He smiled and nodded, steering Star by the elbow into the dimly lit seating area. A noisy jukebox ground out a tune she recognized. Maybe Ray Charles. Maybe not. Cigarette smoke hung in the air, 33

Susan Cody causing her eyes to water. Colin led her to a crowded table near the bar. The musical genius seated there gave her a thrill. Charlie and Thomas, two other band members of One River Down, argued over something, their heads close together in hot debate. She gave a little gasp and put a hand to her mouth when she recognized Nigel. She’d forgotten about him. He would die of a drug overdose very soon. Seeing him made her shiver, as if a ghost sat at the table. The men waved and nodded as he introduced her. The women, however, did not. Each one wore a tight sweater over a tighter straight skirt. They had teased and sprayed their hair to rigid peaks. Hers, soft and flowing, must look ridiculous in comparison. Thick black eyeliner ringed their eyes. One wound a possessive arm through Charlie’s, marking her territory. Star wondered whether either of them claimed Colin. But if one did, he didn’t know it, as he kept an arm lightly around her shoulder. He pulled up rigid wooden chairs for each of them, and they sat with his mates. Glancing from face to face at the table, Star realized what she had to do. Billy was missing. Billy Snow. The other driving force of the band. It must have been Billy that Colin was supposed to meet yesterday at the wedding. Somehow she had to find Billy Snow and get him together with Colin. The beginnings of a headache pounded at her temples, and a brief wave of nausea sped through her. She shook her head, as if she could shake off the physical ramifications of time travel, and turned her attention to Colin. “What have you lot been up to?” he asked the group. “Drinkin’,” answered one of the women. “Well, good. Drinkin’s what we came for.” Someone passed him half a pint of ale as everyone laughed. The group fell into the familiar camaraderie of people who know each other well. No one singled her out for attention, but neither did they ignore her. She worked very hard at not speaking to keep herself from saying anything that would be inappropriate. Mostly she sat back and enjoyed watching Colin interact with his mates. When “The Duke of Earl” came on the jukebox, they all started singing along quite loudly, messing up the lyrics and laughing hysterically at each other. 34

Time to Keep Colin saw her watching him and winked. That small gesture warmed her, as if he said, “These are my mates. But I haven’t forgotten you are with me.” After a few minutes of trying to flag down the busy barmaid, Colin finally gained her attention. “Ah, Colin, another one?” she teased, indicating Star. “When are you going to give them all up for me?” “Molly, you know I love you best,” he teased back. “Well, this one’s new. Let me see some proof of age if she wants a pint.” “Oh, I definitely do,” Star said, reaching inside her backpack for her wallet. She pulled out her driver’s license and started to show it to the woman when she realized the idiocy of that act. “Never mind,” she said, shoving the card into the pocket of her jeans. “I think I’ll just have water.” “Water?” “Yes, please.” Molly eyed Colin skeptically, then turned back toward the bar. “Water it is, love.” Star let her breath out on a sigh, and glanced at Colin. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “What was that?” Her heart pounded. “What was what?” “Why did you—” He broke off, grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her up. “Come with me, love. I need to show you something.” It was not an invitation. It was an outright demand, and if she didn’t go along, he was likely to pick her up and sling her over his shoulder. She let him lead her past the bar to the short hallway leading to the bathrooms and out the door into the alley where the pub’s dishwasher was hunkered down against the wind, having a smoke. At Colin’s nasty glare, the youth threw his cigarette butt on the ground and went inside. Star’s back scraped against the building. Colin placed his forearm on the bricks over her head, effectively trapping her against the pub with his torso and shoulder, even though no part of his body touched any part of hers. She looked into his eyes, dark blue with emotion, and lifted her chin. “What’s wrong with you, Star? Why didn’t you show 35

Susan Cody Molly your ID card?” “I just changed my mind about the pint, that’s all.” “I can’t stand liars.” Fighting the instinct to avert her eyes, she stared him down. Slowly he raised his free hand and laid it against her cheek. She could feel the calluses on his fingers from the hours of pressing strings against guitar necks. His skin was rough, but his touch was gentle. He moved his thumb just enough to graze her bottom lip. “Do you have any idea how badly I want to kiss you?” Her heart skipped but she worked desperately not to show it. “Do it then. Kiss me. Kiss me until we both have no thoughts left.” His head moved closer, closer, as his gaze dropped to her lips. She could almost feel how strong his kiss would be. She could almost taste him. But he pulled back. “Not until I know who I’m kissing.” “You know me.” “I know I thought I must be daft when I tried to clear enough vines away to knock on the door at an abandoned castle. I know you sang a song I haven’t even finished writing yet. I know there isn’t another girl like you within a thousand miles of this little hole in the wall. And I know you won’t show your ID.” He moved his hand to the front pocket where she’d slid her driver’s license. “Show it to me, Star. Let me see your card.” Perhaps it was the easiest way. Star’s gaze never wavered from his as she dipped her fingers inside the pocket and pulled out the laminated rectangle. As he held it in his wide hand, she followed his gaze from the picture to her name to her date of birth. For a second, her head started to spin. She thought dizziness would take over, but with a strong will, she pulled herself back from the edge. Hysteria. She wouldn’t allow it. She drew a deep breath and faced Colin. “This is some kind of fake, then, isn’t it?” he said, running his thumb over the slick surface. “No.” He looked up at her. “Well, it has to be. You can’t be born in 1977.” Her heart pounded so hard against her chest she 36

Time to Keep struggled to draw a breath, but she kept her gaze steady on his hypnotic eyes. “I will be.” “That’s rubbish.” “I know it’s hard to comprehend. I had a problem with it myself, but the moment I laid eyes on you, I thought you were familiar. It just took me a while because…well, because you’re older in my time.” He dropped his arm, apparently no longer afraid she’d escape. Maybe hoping she would. He ran both hands through his hair. “What’ve you got, some kind of time machine, then? Jules Verne-like?” “No. It’s a heavy wooden door in the tower room of the castle.” He arched an eyebrow. “It’s true. I went to the castle on vacation in 2007. When I opened that door, something happened to me. Like some kind of forces were pulling and pushing me. Then I fell to the ground, and you found me.” “This is absurd.” “I know. I brought a newspaper with me this time. The New York Times. From two days ago. Well, two of my days. I can show you. It’s in my backpack.” “Oh, you’ll show it to me, all right. But first we go back inside and act like none of this happened. I don’t want to tell the blokes any of this. It’s crazy.” “Okay. I agree with you. We don’t want to tell anyone else, but first…” She paused, waiting for him to look at her again. When he did, she grabbed a handful of his black sweater and tugged. “Now kiss me.” Startled, he aimed his mouth at her with force, but after a few seconds he gentled his lips against hers and returned his hand to the side of her face. With tiny little dips of her tongue, she encouraged him to deepen the kiss. He did not disappoint. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he shifted her head, making it easier to taste her. Star relaxed the grip that held his sweater and wound her hands behind his neck into his hair. She tasted the ale on him, the chill inside his mouth from the cold. Every nerve in her body came to full attention, straining to get closer to him. To touch, to feel, to know that she was alive whatever the time and space might be. At last he broke his lips away from her, gasping. “So, 37

Susan Cody all the girls from your time are this…aggressive?” Laughing, she took his hand and pulled him back into the pub. “You’re going to love Women’s Lib.”

38

Time to Keep

Chapter Five They stayed with the band for about an hour longer, Star continuing to drink only water. She noticed that Colin took tiny sips of his ale, never really drinking very much of it. He needed a clearer head, she supposed, to assimilate the truths she’d revealed. Soon enough, he made an excuse to his friends about meeting his mother somewhere and guided Star out of the pub. She expected him to walk to the car, but he led her instead around the corner to a four-story apartment building. “Your flat?” she asked when he opened the door and started up the stairs. “Yes.” “You told the boys we were meeting your mother.” “I lied,” he answered simply. “And you hate liars.” The hint of a smile tugged at him. “You don’t let me get away with anythin’, do ya?” “I’m a twenty-first century woman.” “I think I’m beginning to appreciate the subtle differences.” They climbed the stairs from one floor to the next. “But you don’t quite believe me yet.” He shifted his gaze, gave her a skeptical look, then turned back to the stairs. Okay, fine. She didn’t expect him to embrace it wholeheartedly. She didn’t understand it herself, and she’d had longer to think about it than he had. As they passed the third floor landing and kept on, her mind drifted back to that exceptional kiss in the alley. Maybe it was because she’d not been involved with a man for a while. Maybe it was the unusual circumstances. Maybe he just really was the finest kisser she’d ever laid lips against. When they reached the top floor, he headed down the hall to the back corner, digging in his pocket for keys. All 39

Susan Cody she could do was follow him, try to talk to him. Maybe between them, they could figure out what was happening and what, if anything, they should do about it. He opened the door and she followed him inside. Not much had changed in four decades, she thought. When it came to a young man’s apartment, Manhattan or Manchester, they had several things in common. Clothing strewn about the furniture. Empty bottles just about everywhere. And dishes in the sink. This one was different in that it was also littered with guitars, strings, thick black 45s and huge stacks of LPs. It had been a really long time since she’d seen music on vinyl. A collector would die salivating in this room. She watched with amusement as he gathered up some of the laundry and tossed it toward the bedroom. Or what she assumed was the bedroom. She couldn’t really see beyond the narrow doorway. When he gestured toward the sofa, she sat and waited, watching him as he paced around a bit more, as if organizing his immediate area could help organize his thoughts. When he finally settled on the other end of the sofa, far enough away, she noted, so that he was in no danger of touching her, she rummaged in her bag until she found the newspaper and pulled it out. It had become crinkled and torn in transit, shoved to the bottom of the bag by her jacket and other items. She laid it on her lap and carefully smoothed out the edges with her hands. Then she passed it over to him. “Look at it.” His expression told her he wanted to look anywhere but at that section of the New York Times in front of him. She watched him as he studied it, checked out the date, glanced at the front-page articles. He raised his head. “What’s global warming?” “It means the temperatures on the planet are gradually getting warmer. Some people think we need to do something about it quickly.” “Sounds like a science fiction film.” “Well, it’s the future, isn’t it?” She dug in the bag again until she found her iPod. “What’s this gadget?” He leaned closer, watching as she untangled the wires leading to the headphones. “It holds music.” 40

Time to Keep “Music?” He took it from her, turned it over in his hand. “In this little thing?” It did look absurdly small in his large hand. “It’s state-of-the-art technology. I have over a thousand tracks in there.” “A thousand?” He turned it over and over. “A thousand different songs? In this piece of plastic?” “Yes. It’s digital. Please don’t ask me to explain,” she said quickly when he looked up at her in surprise, the question forming on his lips. “I haven’t a clue how it works. I only know that it does.” “Show me.” Star took the player from him and scrolled through her playlists, looking for something he would recognize and settled on Sinatra. She started the music and reached across, carefully placing the buds in his ears. His eyes grew wide as he listened to the music. Star understood. The purity and clarity of the music far surpassed what he heard on his old-fashioned turntable. After a minute or two, he pulled the device from his ears. “What else do you have in that bag? Zapping laser guns?” “So you believe me now? You understand I’m from the future? Your future?” He ducked his head, pulling his gaze away from her to stare instead at the small player which he turned in his hand over and over. When finally he answered her, his voice was low, even. Almost small. “I don’t believe these sorts of things.” Star shifted across the old sofa and took his large hand between hers, waited until he looked at her. “I don’t believe in these things either, but here I am. I’m from the future. I need to go back, but first…” A fine tremble worked its way through her body. She knew it was a taste of fear. She was worried about so many things, but she had to fix whatever wrong had occurred yesterday. She had to get Colin back to the top of the music world. And quickly. The longer she stayed here, she feared, the greater the chances that more things would be changed. Taking a deep breath, she plunged ahead, hoping he understood. “Here’s the thing. When I flew over here two 41

Susan Cody days ago, I had quite a few tracks by One River Down in there. When I got back to the cottage yesterday after meeting you, they were all gone.” “Gone?” “Yesterday, when I was with you in your mother’s cottage, something happened that altered your future. The ripple effects are profound. Your music no longer exists for me now because you missed an important event when you were with me instead of going to that wedding.” A wide range of emotions passed over his face. “Are you saying that my band is going to be so famous that people who aren’t even born now are listening to the music decades later?” “That’s exactly what I’m saying. An awful lot of music came out of England in the Sixties. But the most famous bands were The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and One River Down.” “The Beatles? That crazy Lennon and his pal McCartney? They’re going to be famous?” “Yes, and the Stones.” “Never heard of them.” “You will. All of you are going to be famous. Some of you will be knighted.” He laughed. “Oh, now I know you’re making this up.” “I’m not making it up, Colin. You and a handful of lads from England are going to change the course of popular music forever. But not unless we fix what happened yesterday.” She grew uneasy beneath the intensity of his expression. Finally he pulled his hand away from hers and looked at the player. “This is crazy,” he said on a whisper. She put her hand on his arm, felt the warmth of his skin through his sweater. “I know. But I’m sure I’m right. We have to find this band you were going to meet yesterday and get you together with Billy Snow.” “How do you know about Snow?” “Because I’ve been listening to One River Down all my life. I know the bass player is Billy Snow. And I didn’t see him at the pub with the rest of your friends. So he must be in the band you missed yesterday because you were with me.” Her fingers moved gently, lightly on his 42

Time to Keep sweater. “We have to find him.” She was afraid he might not answer, so long did he stare at her as he tried to assimilate all of it. Finally, he spoke. “Well, that’s impossible now.” She felt her eyes widen as the leading tendrils of panic snaked into her belly. “Why?” “Because they’re not from here. They only came in for the wedding. I don’t know where they went after that.” She bunched the fabric in her hand and pulled on it, as if that could show him how important this was. “We have to find them.” He moved his hand to cover hers, but his eyes looked across the room. She could see them moving, back and forth, as all of it played through his mind. Back and forth. Finally he looked at her. “Okay. We can start with the radio station.” Optimism chased away the panic. Now they had a plan. Now they could get moving and do something about it. She smiled. “That’s great. Call them.” She stood up, but he pulled her back with his hand on hers. “Hold on. It’s Sunday. I don’t know who will be there right now.” “Are they broadcasting?” “Sure.” “Someone will be there. Someone will know.” The radio station was in an old storefront across town. Colin knew it well because his band had played live in the studio on several occasions. Before making the phone call, he filled her in on the band Castaway. They were from London. He’d heard about them from a few different sources, which was why he paid attention. His friends at the local radio station kept an ear to the burgeoning music scene in England. People they met at Corner Club had mentioned the band as well. One River Down was in need of a good bass player. Charlie was filling that role right now, but he wasn’t a bassist at heart. If they could find a really good one to join them, Charlie and Nigel could stick to rhythm and lead. Then there was the added benefit that this Snow fellow wrote his own music. Colin strongly believed that this was the way of the future. He enjoyed covering the R&B hits from America, but he had his own voice. Snow could help 43

Susan Cody him put out enough songs to fill a show. Star listened with a mixture of awe and hysteria while Colin spoke. As thrilling as it was to witness the birth of a rock legend, she couldn’t yet squash the panic that hovered just on the edges of her reason. What if it didn’t work? What if they couldn’t find him? She paced while Colin spoke to the deejay on the phone, not an easy feat in such a small apartment. The nausea she’d fought earlier returned. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she willed it to settle. Finally she stopped, leaned against the window ledge, and just watched Colin. He smiled when he talked to his friend. She hadn’t seen a smile on his face in a few hours. Ever since he’d figured out her secret, to be precise. She was happy to see it now. Maybe it meant he was beginning to relax, to accept her truth and work with it. He replaced the receiver in the heavy black cradle. “They’re in London.” “Excellent.” She strode back to the sofa and picked up her backpack. “Let’s go.” “Star, it isn’t that simple.” “Of course, it is. All we have to do is find Billy Snow, sit down and talk with him, and get things back on the right track.” He reached for her hand and pulled her down to the sofa. “No, not that part. It’s a good five-hour drive to London. By the time we get there it will be at least nine. Even if we find Snow immediately, it’s still a five-hour drive back here. I’m not on vacation, Star. I have to go to my job in the morning.” She shook her head. “You can’t.” “I’m not a famous musician, Star. I’ve not been knighted. I have to pay my rent somehow.” Didn’t he understand? Money was going to be the least of his worries once they made this connection. “Call in sick. You have to do this, Colin.” “I don’t like to lie.” She sighed with exasperation. She’d stumbled back in time to meet the last honest man in the universe. That was great, but she needed a little help here. “Okay, then say it’s an emergency. That’s the truth!” While he thought it over, she slid closer to him. 44

Time to Keep Laying a hand against his cheek, she turned his face toward hers. Trouble brewed in his deep blue eyes. She could see worry, frustration, the struggle within him to do the right thing. “Colin, listen to me. You know you’re a brilliant musician. You don’t have to believe I’m from the future to know that. I don’t know why I’m here or why everything got out of kilter. But I know that the Colin Kendall of my lifetime did many, many good things for people that you’ll never be able to do if you don’t find the fame you’re fated to have.” Silence thickened between them as he struggled to understand. Finally he spoke in a quiet voice. “Am I going to know you in the future?” She felt a tear well in her eye, but she willed it not to fall. Slowly she shook her head. “That’s bobbins, then, isn’t it?” He stood up, pulled her up with him. “Let me just throw a few things together.” But before he went to the bedroom, he wrapped his arms around her and held her, simply held her, against his chest for a moment. She felt the strong beat of his heart against her head and closed her eyes, drawing strength from his touch. If only things were different. This was a truly good and caring man. A talented man. A man she could love.

45

Susan Cody

Chapter Six By the time they got on the road, Star’s last ounce of patience had seeped away. Trying to calm her nerves, she looked out the window, wishing Colin would drive faster, faster, ever aware that anything she said or did could alter the future. For that reason, she wanted this to be over with quickly. But when she looked across the small car at him, saw his face in the wash of oncoming headlights, a sharp pang shot through her. Once they met Snow, got him together with Colin’s band, things would settle into the pattern that was supposed to happen. She’d go back to the hedgerow, back through the door. And never see him again. As if he read her thoughts, he turned, looked briefly at her before turning back to the road. “How old are you, Star?” “In my time? I’m thirty.” He nodded. As if he’d figured that out. “I’m twenty right now.” Twenty! She couldn’t believe it. In many ways he seemed older, more mature than she. Thinking back to her own twentieth year, she shook her head. “You’re a lot more sensible than I was at twenty.” He shrugged. “Different times, I suppose. Different lives.” If she thought about it, that made sense. He would have been born while the war still ravaged London. That would certainly age a person. “Wasn’t your father killed in the war?” she asked, remembering the details of his biography. “Yeah. Just before Jeannie was born.” That would age a boy, Star thought. Growing up without a father in a war-torn country. Her own life had been a picnic compared to his thus far. She couldn’t help herself from doing the math. In her time, he was sixty46

Time to Keep five.

They didn’t speak much for the rest of the drive. What was there to say? They both realized there was a vast age difference between them, no matter which time they were in. While his kisses were exceptional and the shivers that ran through her when he touched her were divine, there was nowhere for this to go. As enticing as it would be to stay here and experience this great adventure with him, she couldn’t do it. She had a life and a family back in New York. What would they think if she never returned from England? When they got closer to London, Colin switched on the car radio and they raced on as summer afternoon turned into evening, the dark throbbing beat of early sixties blues pulsing like an unseen chord, pulling them forward, closer to London, closer to everyone’s destiny. He drove, as many musicians do, with his hands tapping against the steering wheel, as if he couldn’t quiet the music within him, no matter what fate had in store. Finally they arrived at the outer edges of the city. Traffic increased. Their progress slowed. Star felt an urgency now, as if she knew they were close. As if the answer was within their grasp. A headache started pounding at her temples as another slight wave of nausea washed over her. Just nerves, she told herself. Just the anticipation of setting things right. She glanced toward Colin. He wore a weary expression. This trip had taken a toll on him as well, but an emotional one that he would not share. She wished she could get into his mind, to see how he really felt about this mission. Was he doing this only to indulge her? Or did he really believe her that they needed to right the mess her arrival had made of things? At last they reached the club mentioned by the Manchester deejay. A faded sign by the front door listed the bands that played there. Castaway was among them. Although Sunday nights were less popular than others, there would still be a decent crowd. Enough to support a local band. They parked the car and went inside. Colin threaded his way through the crowd, holding Star’s hand to keep her close. The smoky air vibrated with the thumping bass of the band onstage. Young people, 47

Susan Cody mostly dressed in black, clapped and swayed in the neardarkness, worshipping their heroes on the stage. They circled the room, Colin looking for anyone he knew, but by the time they’d snaked through to the dance floor, he’d not recognized anyone. Colin leaned forward and shouted in her ear. “Let’s find someone who works here.” Star nodded, dizzy for a moment. Maybe it was the smoke that hung in the air like early morning fog. She gripped Colin’s upper arm to steady herself. “Are you okay?” “I’m not used to the smoke.” “Let’s head toward the back.” She followed him, holding tightly to his hand as if it were a lifeline through the noisy crowd to the back corner of the room. One of the bouncers stood watching, arms folded over his massive chest. “Castaway playing tonight?” Colin asked when he was within shouting distance. “Sorry. You just missed ’em. They had the afternoon slot today on account of they’re heading for Germany.” “Germany?” Colin echoed. “Yeah. They got a gig over there. Playing for about a month, I reckon.” Star tugged on Colin’s hand. “I know about this,” she said just low enough that only he could hear. “Okay, thanks.” Colin gave a little wave to the bouncer then turned back to Star. “What do you know?” She scanned the room, looking for a place to sit. Her wobbly knees didn’t feel as if they could hold her much longer. “Can we get outside? I’m a bit dizzy.” Outside, they stood against the side of the building while Star gulped in large breaths of cleaner air. It had started to rain, just a light drizzle. They moved away from the entrance, away from the people who milled about trying to decide whether to go in. “Better now?” Colin asked when they were alone. She kept a grip on his arm, but nodded. “Just too much smoke, I guess. The thing is, a lot of British bands played in Germany. I know the Beatles did. In Hamburg. They weren’t the only ones to play there. Castaway must be doing something like that.” 48

Time to Keep “How do you know so much about things that happened before you were born?” Star didn’t miss the note of skepticism in his voice. He may be playing along with her, but he wasn’t entirely convinced yet. “My parents are huge fans of the music. They were kids, teenagers, when the British Invasion happened. That’s what they called it when all the groups came over from England—the British Invasion.” “Right. Well, doesn’t matter now, does it? We didn’t get here in time.” No, they hadn’t gotten there in time, so they would just have to try something else. They couldn’t give up. “So we find out how they’re getting to Germany, and we find them before they leave.” “That’s absurd. We can’t find them now. Let’s go home.” “No.” She tugged on his arm. “We can’t do that. You don’t believe me, do you?” “Look, I was willing to go along with it, to see if we couldn’t find this Snow fellow. But we can’t. It’s too late. We’ll just go back to Manchester, and that’s that.” Star couldn’t believe it. She’d been so certain that he understood. How could she convince him? The wind kicked up, driving the rain against them. She watched it land in his shaggy hair, curling it against his high forehead. Desperate now, she tightened her grip on his sleeve. “Come back inside with me. We have to find out how they’re going.” “Star, this is rubbish.” “Colin, please. Trust me. Just long enough to talk to someone. Can you please trust me?” They stood in the night air, rain falling around them, on them. Star never wavered, gripping his sweater in her fist, staring at him until finally he nodded. “All right.” He followed her back into the club, back to the same bouncer they’d talked with before. But this time, Star stepped in front and asked the questions. “We really need to catch up with Billy. D’you know how they’re getting to Germany? Flying, maybe?” The big man laughed. “Not bleedin’ likely. That would be too dear.” He frowned, looking at her. “Why’s it so important to you?” 49

Susan Cody Doing her best to turn on the charm, Star struck a pose that she hoped was seductive. “I’m his cousin from America. I haven’t seen him in a really, really long time, and I promised my grandmother I’d give him something.” She laid a hand on his beefy arm, just barely stroking. “It would mean so much to her if I could find him. Won’t you help me, please?” The big man glanced at Colin as if he were seeking approval. Then he looked back at Star. “I heard ’em talking about the ferry from Dover. Leaves at seven in the mornin’. That’s why they played the first show.” “Thanks ever so much.” Colin took her hand and steered her back outside, walking briskly toward the spot where they’d left the car. “You didn’t tell me you’re an actress, love.” “I’m not.” She struggled to keep up with his longlegged stride. The exertion had her nearly breathless. When they reached the car, she leaned on the hood, trying to calm her breath. Colin put his hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong?” She shook her head. “I’m not sure. It’s just hard to breathe. I thought it was the smoke, but…” She drew a deep breath and tried to stand, losing her balance. Colin’s strong hands caught her. “Let’s get you inside, out of this rain.” He opened the car door and eased her into the seat. Digging in the back, he found her jacket and draped it around her shoulders. “Better?” Star looked up at him, at the deep frown creasing his forehead. When had anyone fussed over her like this? A girl could get used to it. And that was part of the problem. She wasn’t a girl. She was a woman with responsibilities and obligations in another time. Maybe this dizziness was her body’s reaction to all that was happening around her. “It’s a little better.” “Maybe you need something to eat.” That was a good idea. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast at the castle. “Yes,” she said. “That will probably help.” “Okay, then.” He circled the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. “We’ll stop somewhere on the way to Dover.” 50

Time to Keep

Chapter Seven The relief that washed over Star surprised her with its intensity. Even if he didn’t believe, he was willing to keep going. For that much, she was grateful. The rain increased as they headed toward the coast, slowing their trip, which should have taken about two hours. Colin stopped at a small place he knew of where the fish and chips were fresh and crispy. They sat in a dingy booth near the back door. Cigarette smoke hung in the air here, too, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as at the club. When the waitress placed big trays of food in front of them, Star’s stomach flipped. Her headache had returned. She fought wave after wave of nausea. And if she stared too long at the walls, the room started to spin. Yet she didn’t want to tell Colin. She had a pretty good idea of what was wrong. Hoping it would give her some strength, she picked up a fat potato wedge and nibbled at the end of it. The pretense of eating only lasted a short while. Colin ate thoughtfully, watching Star so intensely that she ducked her head to avoid his eyes. Finally he reached across the table and lifted her chin. “What’s wrong, Star?” She pulled out of his grasp. “Nothing.” “Rubbish.” Star tried a convincing smile, but she guessed it didn’t come out very strong. He pushed his nearly empty basket to the side and reached across the table to capture her hand, holding it tightly this time to keep her within his grip. “What’s wrong?” She knew her hand trembled beneath his. And from his reaction, he’d also noticed how cold she was. “I think something’s wrong with me.” Worry creased his brow. “Let’s get you to hospital.” “No!” She glanced around to see whether anyone had heard, then lowered her voice. “I can’t go to a hospital. Besides, I think I know what it is.” 51

Susan Cody She’d not been quite right from the moment she plunged through the time portal, and she knew it. The longer she stayed on this side, the weaker she became. “I think it’s because I’m in the wrong time. You remember how disoriented I was the first time. After a little while, I got better, but I never got exactly right again. Now, the longer I’m on this side with you, the weaker I get.” Colin looked everywhere but at her as he thought about it. She could see the movement in his dark blue eyes as he tried to assimilate the facts. Finally he turned back to her. “Then let’s take you back to the castle right now.” “Colin, no. We have to finish this.” “Not at the expense of your health, we don’t.” Drawing a breath, she willed the room to stop spinning. She needed all the strength she could possibly find. She looked across the table at him, meeting his strong gaze without wavering. “I caused this rift. I will fix it.” As he stared at her, she saw the admiration light his expression. A small smile curled on his lips. “Okay, then. Let’s go.” Stopping first to fill the car at a petrol station, they headed back into the night toward Dover. Star tried to be tough, but the motion of the car combined with her overall weakness to make her feel even worse. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Colin, please,” she said, her voice low and breathless. “Can we stop? Maybe spend the night somewhere and go on in the morning?” He looked at her, blue eyes drawn together with worry. “Sure.” He pulled to the side of the road, laid a hand on her cheek. “You’re so cold.” She felt the shivers running through her body, as if she had a high fever. “I’m sorry. I’ll be all right if we stop for a while. I’m sure.” “Here’s the thing. I don’t have enough money to pay for a room. Not if we’re going to buy the petrol to take you back to the portal.” She took his arm, turned it to see his watch. Nearly midnight. “Well, maybe we can just stay in the car. Just for a bit.” He let his hand fall to her shoulder, toyed with her 52

Time to Keep hair, watching her. Just his gaze heated her skin. She knew if she could lie in his embrace for even a little while, it would help her find the strength to go on. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll find a spot.” He started the car and drove back onto the highway, moving slowly as he swept his gaze over the roadside, searching. Finally, he slowed and crossed along the edge of a grassy field. He steered carefully toward a stand of trees and pulled into the thick of them, shielding them from view of the highway. As soon as he cut the engine, the silence fell over them like a warm blanket. Colin twisted in his seat and looked at her. There was almost no light, only a sliver of moon filtering through the trees. Just enough to make out vague outlines. “Open the glove box,” he told her. “There’s a torch.” “Torch?” She felt for the latch on the box and opened it. “Flashlight,” she said, realizing what he meant. Her hand closed around the cold metal cylinder, and she passed it to him. “I have some blankets in the boot. The backseat is roomier. Come on.” She got out and moved into the back while he dug around in the trunk. In a few minutes, he came back with two blankets. “You never know where you’re going to sleep when you’re playing in a band. I learned a long time ago to take some things with me.” “Thank goodness for that,” she said, trying her best to remain cheerful, to stave off the needles of panic that were slicing through her, chilling her blood. Star sat back and let Colin fuss about her with the blankets. There was a boyish enthusiasm to him much of the time, but an all-too-serious grownup façade at others. He’d been the man in his family his entire life. He’d taken care of his mother and sister, as he thought a man should in his time. The effect was touching. Other than her parents when she was little, no one had catered to her, fussed over her, protected her. After tucking a blanket around her, Colin settled next to her on the deep bench seat. He threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into the haven of his embrace. She leaned into him, schooling her breath to 53

Susan Cody settle, her nerves to calm. He rested his chin on the top of her head, stroking her arm with light fingers. Soothed by his touch, she let her head relax against him, listening as he hummed lightly. She wondered whether he even realized he sang to her. Closing her eyes, she drifted, feeling better than she had in hours, listening to the song and his deep breaths. In a few moments he fell silent, as if even the sweet melody were too much for the still night air. When he spoke to her, his voice was a rumbling whisper. “This is likely the only night we’ll ever spend together.” A lump formed in her throat. She’d had that same thought only a moment ago. She nodded, realized he couldn’t see her in the dark, then spoke. “Yes, probably.” Another long silence followed, then he sighed. “I wish things could be different.” “Different how?” “This will sound crazy.” “Crazier than me being from your future?” She heard his soft chuckle. “You know, I really believe that now? I didn’t think I would, but what the hell, right?” He shifted in the seat, kept his arm around her, held her against his chest. “I was thinking that after you go back, I’m going to miss you. I wish we could have some time together.” Time. What did the word even mean any more? “I can’t stay here.” “I know that, love.” “And you can’t go back with me. You have to stay here and make your music. Change the world.” The silence enveloped them again. The warmth of Colin’s skin seeped into her, chasing her chill away. She felt comfortable and safe in his arms. At last he spoke again, his voice low, almost timid. “Am I alive in your time?” “Yes.” She rushed to reassure him. Things were so different for her, four decades later. “Alive and still touring. Still churning out hit CDs.” “CDs?” She shook her head. “Records.” He tucked her back into his warm embrace, and she slept. 54

Time to Keep **** She woke up to the sound of an acoustical guitar. Before she opened her eyes, she just listened to it. The melody was familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it at first. Then as the delicate sounds punctuated the stillness of night, she realized that Colin was writing a song. The very song that she had been named for. “Star in the Night.” He’d written that song for her? Feeling woozy, she put her head back and just listened, trying not to think about the fact that she lived in his future, yet she’d affected his past. In a few minutes, he put the guitar away and pulled her closer to him, tucking the ends of the blanket around her. “Sleep, Colin,” she whispered. “You need to rest.” “I can’t.” She pushed back from the seat, looked at him in the pale light. “What’s wrong?” He put his hands on either side of her face, kissed her sweetly, then brushed his thumb across her lips. “I think I’m in love with you.” Her heart pounded. Her blood surged through her veins. As illogical as the entire situation was, she understood. “Me too.” He kissed her again, but this time it was the kiss of a lover. Commanding. Possessive. His strong lips caressed hers, seeking. She opened her mouth and let him inside. He dipped in with his tongue, tasting her as if enjoying the finest delicacy. At last he raised his head. “I want to make love with you.” Oh, she wanted that, too. Desperately wanted that sweet surrender, that mind-numbing release. But she knew it wasn’t wise. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He gave a sharp laugh. “Oddly enough, I agree with you. There’s too much at stake right now. And you’re not well.” Star sighed. Could he truly be this good and noble a man? What would life as a celebrity do to that part of his personality? “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” Struggling to fight the weakness in her, she nodded. When Colin tucked her back into his warm embrace, she fell asleep. When she opened her eyes again, a hint of rosy 55

Susan Cody light crept in between the trees. As she attempted to sit up, disentangling Colin’s long limbs from hers, a wave of nausea washed over her, more powerful than any she’d felt before. She clapped a hand to her mouth and willed her stomach to settle. Colin stirred beside her. “What is it, love?” “Sick,” she managed to mumble. He opened the door and helped her outside. Star leaned on him, not sure she could stand on her own. The fresh morning air seemed to help. She gulped in a lungful of it and managed to straighten. “I think I’m okay now.” Glancing at his watch, Colin frowned. “It’s after five. We’ll have to hurry if we’re going to meet them at the dock.” Swallowing hard, Star nodded. It didn’t matter how bad she felt. They had to get there. Obviously, she couldn’t stay in this time much longer. Catching the band at the ferry dock was her last chance to fix things. “If we could maybe stop at a petrol station and get some water, I’ll be fine.” But it didn’t help as much as she’d thought it might when she stood a short time later in the grimy restroom, pressing wet paper towels to her face. The only thing that would make her better, she knew, was to go back to her own time. The forces of nature were pressing on her body, demanding more than she was capable of giving to keep her here. Telling herself it would be all right, she went back to the car, and they hurried on toward Dover. Traffic was heavier on Monday morning than it had been over the weekend. The dashboard clock crept closer and closer to seven as they followed the highway toward Colin’s destiny. Keep going, she told herself. Keep moving. Her hands were ice cold as she kept them clasped in her lap. Her body fought the nausea and the weakness so that she could remain upright, watching the clock as the road signs flashed by in a blur, marking the distance to their destination, the numbers getting smaller and smaller. But not quickly enough. The hands on the clock seemed to race toward seven, and still they were too far away. A sinking feeling jolted the pit of her stomach. They 56

Time to Keep weren’t going to make it. She glanced at Colin. His jaw was set with rigid determination as he swerved in and out of traffic, pushing the car to its maximum speed, racing against time to beat time itself for the future he’d lost without ever knowing it. She reached across the car, laid a hand on his thigh. Without moving his eyes from the road, he covered her hand with his. “It will be all right.” She hoped it would. But she couldn’t stop the hands on the clock from inching around the dial. The minute hand was straight up on twelve when they spotted the sign that directed them to the dock. Frustrating traffic got in the way, slowed them. Colin leaned on his horn, as if sheer will could move everyone out of their way. Finally they spotted the car park. Colin screeched into a space, and they bolted from the car. She knew she was holding him back from sprinting around the building to the dock, but she just couldn’t go any faster. “Go on,” she urged. “I’ll catch up.” But he wouldn’t leave her. “It doesn’t matter, Star. It’s after seven. We’re too late.” She knew he was right, but that didn’t stop her from hoping for a miracle. Maybe some fluke had delayed their departure. Engine trouble, perhaps. But when they rounded the building, the truth was evident. No craft sat beside the dock. No people milled about waiting to board. Nothing. “There it goes.” Colin nodded out to sea. In the distance, she could make out the back of the ferryboat, gliding toward Calais.

57

Susan Cody

Chapter Eight Despair sickened her. Star ran a hand through her tangled hair and looked up at Colin. “Okay, we’ll wait. There will be another one. We’ll catch up with the band in Germany.” “Star.” He put an arm around her shoulder and nudged her back toward the car park. “We can’t do that. We don’t have our passports, and even if we did, how can you show yours?” An early morning chill swept through her. He was right. They couldn’t leave England. She’d ruined everything. Colin’s entire life would be wasted now because of her. She couldn’t stand it. Tears welled in her eyes as he guided her along toward the car. Shivers rippled through her body. If only she’d known! She never would have opened that door. Never stepped through it. And never known Colin. She didn’t want to think about that. But was it worth it? Less than twenty-four hours with him in exchange for decades of a successful career? It wasn’t fair. Not for either of them. She would gladly give up her career for him. But the world was infinitely worse off without the music of Colin Kendall and One River Down. Wavering on her feet, she grabbed Colin’s arm to steady herself. She wanted to avoid his gaze, but she couldn’t stop. Turning her head, she expected to see disappointment in his expression. Maybe even despair. What she met instead was concern. “You okay?” he asked. She heaved a sigh. “No, I—” The rest of her words were lost in the screech of a car racing across the pavement. Five men burst from the vehicle amid much cursing. “I told you we would be too late!” one of them shouted. “Bugger it!” shouted another. A general scuffle ensued between all of them, as they 58

Time to Keep hastened to lay blame on each other for the obvious misadventure that had made them too late for the ferry. But not too late for Colin’s destiny. A trill of joy vibrated through Star as her grip tightened on Colin’s arm. He nodded. “Got to be them, doesn’t it?” She couldn’t keep the smile from widening across her face. As they watched, one of them separated himself from the others, pulled out a smoke and leaned silently against the car’s frame as the other four screeched. “That one.” Star nodded toward the quiet one. “That’s Billy. I recognize him.” Colin took her hand. “Come on, then. Let’s go meet him.” “No.” She pulled out of his grasp. “You don’t need me for this. I might muck it up even worse.” She kissed his cheek. “You go. Claim your future.” Leaning against Colin’s car, she watched him stride across the pavement, saw Billy Snow eye him with suspicion, then curiosity. While Star watched, Colin said something that made Billy nod and smile. Then the two men joined in a warm handshake. As she watched their hands grip, something powerful shivered through Star, a bolt of lightning streaking through her blood. The pavement shifted, as if she were falling through the portal again, but when she gripped the cold metal of the car and looked back across the way, Colin still stood speaking with Billy. The world righted itself, she realized. Things were back to normal now. A sigh of relief whispered out of her. A few minutes later, Colin strode back across the car park, a big smile on his face. “It’s all worked out, love. We’re getting together in Manchester later.” Star’s answering smile wavered. She put out a hand, but couldn’t reach Colin. Her world spun wildly. Then everything turned black. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself curled into a half-sitting, half-lying position in the front seat, a blanket wrapped around her. Colin’s fierce concentration told her they were speeding back to the castle. She tried to sit up but didn’t have the strength, so she burrowed in the seat where he’d tucked her. 59

Susan Cody “How long was I out?” she asked. He glanced worriedly at her. “’Bout an hour, I reckon. How do you feel?” She touched a hand to her forehead, felt the scratches there from her fall through the portal. “Shaky. Things are good with Billy?” “Funny thing. He was ready to quit Castaway already. Says they don’t take it seriously. The partying last night that made them miss the boat was his last straw. He’s taking a train back to London and meeting up with me in Manchester later this week.” A sense of peacefulness settled on Star. Everything was all right. She reached for her backpack, dug around until she found her iPod. With trembling fingers she pushed the power button, then scrolled through the playlists. “It’s here, Colin. It’s all here!” “M’ music?” “Yes. All of it.” Keeping his eyes on the road, he smiled. “That’s good, then, isn’t it?” She tucked the iPod back into her bag. Just that much exertion tired her. She shifted, resting her head against Colin. He put his arm around her and held her close all the rest of the way. He avoided his mother’s house when they reached the familiar countryside. Too many questions. Too few answers. He parked his car far along the edge of the hedgerow, hoping not to draw attention. He silenced the engine and turned to her. “I don’t want you to go.” “I don’t want to leave you, but I don’t have a choice.” He slid toward her, gathering her into his arms. “I would come to you in your time, but I’ll be too old by then. Sixty-five.” She snuggled against him, feeling his heart beat. “Don’t be silly. Harrison Ford is sixty-five, and I don’t know a woman breathing who would turn him down.” “Harrison who?” She smiled against his chest. “Never mind.” His hands stroked her hair for a long time as they sat in the silence. “I will never forget you.” “I know that. Your biggest hit is for me.” “You heard me playing last night.” 60

Time to Keep “I did.” “‘Star in the Night’ will be a big hit?” “The biggest. It’s the reason my parents named me Star.” His arms tightened around her, as if he never wanted to let her go. “I love you, Star.” She laid her hand along his cheek, stroking the firm jaw, rough with the texture of unshaven beard. “You only think you do because I’m different. You’ll find plenty of other women like me in your future.” Closing his eyes, he shook his head and drew her closer, cradling her in the shelter of his strong arms. For a long moment he held her that way. Two hearts beating against each other in perfect time, though time was their unseen enemy. The toll on her body grew heavier with each moment she lived in the wrong year. She shuddered with weakness. Colin released her, whispering, “Let’s get you back to the door, then. Before you get worse.” Star picked up her backpack and climbed out of the car. She stood on shaky legs, determined to walk back to the portal on her own. But by the time Colin rounded the car to walk beside her, her legs gave out. With a little cry, she stumbled. Colin’s strong arms were there to catch her. He picked her up easily and carried her along the hedge, setting her down gently in the grass. Star put out a hand to steady herself. Colin helped her slip the straps of her backpack over her arms. Then he smoothed her hair and left his hands on either side of her face. “I would have one more kiss before you go.” Without waiting for her answer, he bent and captured her mouth with a kiss as light as morning dew. “I will wait for you,” he whispered. She smiled, tears filling her eyes. “No, you won’t. You have a great adventure ahead of you. Live it.” She felt her legs fighting to hold her upright. The weakness was overwhelming, and the nausea was returning. She didn’t want her last moment with Colin to be filled with sickness. “Goodbye, Colin.” Star knew she would not see him again. He would become a major celebrity, marry, have children. Their two days together would be a distant memory, less than that were it not for the song. He held her hand while she 61

Susan Cody pushed the branches apart, drew her deepest breath, and plunged through the portal. As the swirling winds overtook her, and his fingertips trailed away from her, she heard his anguished cry. “Star!”

62

Time to Keep

Epilogue Star spent the next few days rambling around the drafty old castle. Funny how quickly she found the Internet connection once she returned. Almost as if the fates had wanted her to be isolated until she’d been through the portal. A quick call to her New York office had confirmed that things were back to normal. Everyone there knew her as Star. The music was indeed in her iPod, and as soon as she could surf the web, she spent hours reading everything she could find about Colin and One River Down. Wikipedia recounted an urban legend about a chance meeting in a Dover car park between Colin Kendall and Billy Snow. In the liner notes on One River Down’s first album, Colin Kendall thanked “his lucky Star for guiding him toward success.” A Google search yielded dozens of websites offering speculation about the mysterious woman named Star who had figured so prominently in Colin’s early life. In a renovated castle in rural England, Star Prescott smiled. She knew she’d never see him again, but as always, she had his music. With a sigh of longing, she closed the laptop. Maybe it was all in her imagination. Maybe she’d dreamt the encounter with Colin. With every day that passed, her memories of that time grew dimmer. Heading downstairs to rummage in the kitchen for something to eat, she cocked her head as an unfamiliar noise caught her attention. Someone on the stone steps? Maybe Willard returning to check on her or bring more supplies. She headed for the doorway just as a loud knock sounded against the heavy wood. With a welcoming smile, she pulled open the door, but her breath caught in her throat. Her heart skipped a beat. She put out a hand to steady herself against the 63

Susan Cody doorjamb. Touches of silver streaked his dark hair. Deep lines etched character into the angular edges of his jaw. But the sapphire eyes remained the same. “Colin,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. He studied her for what seemed an eternity. “You were wrong, then, you know.” She shook her head. “I didn’t find any other women like you.” She grinned. “Not that you didn’t look.” He had the grace to blush. “Well, it was a really long time, wasn’t it, love? And it was, you know, The Sixties.” The joy that had been missing from her life bubbled up inside her. “Are you here for me now?” “I am.” She laid a hand against his cheek. “Then that’s okay.” He drew her into his arms and kissed her with the same passion he’d had as a twenty-year-old on the verge of greatness. And Star knew that whatever length of time she had with Colin would be better than a lifetime without him.

64

Thank you for purchasing this Wild Rose Press publication. For other wonderful stories of romance, please visit our on-line bookstore at www.thewildrosepress.com. For questions or more information contact us at [email protected]. The Wild Rose Press www.TheWildRosePress.com