Emma came through the door holding a box of Saltine crackers, which she thrust forward with a worried expression on her face.
“This is what you give me when I’m sick,” she said.
“Thank you, sweetheart. That’s very thoughtful of you. Mama’s not sick, though.”
“Then what’s wrong with you? I heard you throwing up.”
“Mama’s growing a baby in her belly.”
Emma squealed in delight and clapped her hands together. “Baby brother?”
“Maybe. I don’t know yet. It may be a baby sister.”
“I think it will be a boy,” Emma said firmly. “I was going to ask Santa for a baby brother but I guess he already knew.”
Despite all the angst and melancholy her discovery had left her, Sally couldn’t help but smile softly at Emma’s determination. She reached out and grabbed her daughter and gave her a bear hug, then kissed the top of her head.
Her children were so dear to her. This new baby would be, as well, no matter what the future held for them.
“Mama loves you so much,” she whispered.
“I love you, too, Mama.”
“How about we have ice cream and fried pickles for breakfast?”
Emma wrinkled up her nose. “Can we have regular pickles and fried ice cream instead?”
Sally laughed. It was the first time she had done so since Mark had disappeared and the sound surprised her. She pressed one hand to her still-flat abdomen and put the other on Emma’s head.
Where there’s life, there’s hope, she thought.
She heard another set of footsteps coming down the hall. Jayne appeared, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“We’re getting a baby brother!” Emma squealed.
“Or sister,” Sally warned, even though she knew Emma wasn’t listening.
“I want a little brother! Brother! Brother!” Jayne chanted.
“We don’t get a choice. We have to be happy with whichever one we get,” Sally explained.
“Why don’t we get to choose?” Jayne asked.
“Father Dave would say it’s because God chooses for us and knows what’s best for our family.”
Their eyes went round at that explanation and their mouths formed little O’s.
Emma turned to Jayne and said solemnly, “We both need to ask Santa for a brother because he and God are friends. And Daddy says that friends do things for each other.”
Sally bit her lip. Such an innocent statement, and yet it pierced her heart as sharply as a dagger. She hoped that wherever they were—whenever they were-- Mark and Dave were taking care of each other.
“When can we go see Santa?” Emma asked, turning back to her.
“Not for a few more weeks yet. It’s not quite time for Christmas. We’ll go and talk to him after Thanksgiving.”
“Won’t it be too late then?” Emma asked, her eyes widening.
“No, honey. It won’t be. The baby won’t be here until next summer.”
“He’s a slowpoke,” Jayne said. “Tell him to hurry up.”
“Daddy’s going to have to come home now,” Emma said. “He has to be here for the baby.”
Sally sucked in her breath as if she’d been punched in the gut. “He’ll get home just as soon as he can,” she said.
“Who’s going to help you until he gets here?”
“Well, you two are going to be big sisters, so you can be Mama’s helpers,” she said.
Both girls stood up a little straighter, looking excited and proud.
“I’ll be the best helper ever,” Emma said.
“No, I will be,” Jayne contradicted her.
Sally smiled at each of them. “Tell you what. The first one to the kitchen gets to help me make breakfast.”
They both turned and ran from the room as fast as they could, squealing in delight all the way. She smiled even as tears filled her eyes. The next several months were going to be rougher than she could have ever imagined.
~
Mark’s hands were clenched in fists as the wind buffeted the boat. They had reached the vanguard of the storm, coming at them with such a sudden ferocity it nearly knocked the breath out of him. The wind whistled around them and the boat creaked and groaned in response, creating a chorus of sound which sent shivers down his spine.
Things were about to get brutal. He glanced at Dave. The priest’s face was pale and he was scowling. A vein in his throat was pulsing rapidly.
He thought of all the people in town who had declared it sheer suicide to be on the water during the upcoming storm.
Maybe they were right, but he had to try to get home, no matter what it took.
“I’m sorry I got you into this mess,” he said.
“None of this is on you,” Dave said tersely.
“Still, I’m sorry. I also want you to know that I trust you completely and there’s no one I’d rather have face hell with me than you.”
“Really?” Dave asked, turning to look at him.
“Absolutely. You’re a rock. I know I can count on you to do the right thing, make the best choice in any situation, no matter what.”
“Well, that’s not ominous sounding.” A half-smile tugged at Dave’s lips.
“I guess I’m trying to say, don’t let me get us both killed,” Mark said.
“It’s not just you. I want to get home as badly as you do.”
“Yeah, but you’re not likely to do something stupid trying to get us there.”
“I don’t know about that. Waiting like sitting ducks for this storm to hit us feels pretty stupid to me at the moment.”
I know what you mean, Mark thought. The closer the storm got, the more he suspected they were making a mistake. There were too many variables. It all felt wrong.
“I keep waiting for everything to go dark or for the crazy fog to roll in,” Dave muttered.
Mark nodded. That’s what it was. They had far too much visibility. It felt like a normal storm, even if it was going to be a monster. The waves which were now racing to catch the wind were violent, but they were just waves. There was nothing supernatural-looking or feeling about them.
“Do you get the feeling this isn’t the storm we’re looking for?” he finally asked.
“More with every passing second,” Dave admitted.
“Great. So we’re out in the middle of a massive storm that’s not even going to take us back home. What are we supposed to do now?”
“We hold on like crazy--because it’s here!”
The sky opened up above them and dumped so much water down that in moments, Mark was gasping for breath because it felt as if he was being drowned. There was so much water that it grayed out his sight. He couldn’t even see Dave anymore. The boat suddenly crested a wave then just as suddenly dropped with a bang. The blow jerked him completely off balance and he purposely fell down onto the deck before he slipped and found himself flying over the side and being consumed by the angry gray waves surrounding them. He prayed that Dave had done the same.
He hugged the deck, tucking his head so he could breathe.
We’re going to die! he thought, his oxygen-starved brain panicking as he sucked air into his lungs and then began to cough out water.
It can’t end like this, he thought. This couldn’t be the end for Sally and him, for their love story. Our love is bigger than storms and time and death. Nothing will keep me from her.
The small boat bucked up and down and he continued to cling to the deck, breathing when he could and holding his breath the rest of the time as water dashed over him. He closed his eyes against the pounding of the rain and surf.
He pictured Sally in his mind, getting a crystal clear vision of her. He clung to the memory of the first time they’d gone out on the water together. The sun had been bright and high in the sky, beaming down on them. Its rays had hit her hair and reflected on it until it seemed as if i
t was glowing, as if she was some kind of angel.
My angel.
He could practically hear her laughter, light and lovely and ringing so clearly in his mind that it drowned out the sounds of the storm. When she laughed, she wasn’t shy or restrained. She would throw her head back and give herself over to the joy of the moment.
He had always loved that about her.
He managed to take another breath, and instead of salty sea air, he imagined he was breathing in her scent. It was a heady, rich, intoxicating mix of vanilla and cinnamon. For years he had thought it must be the soap or shampoo she used. He only knew the fragrance drove him wild. After they had married, he had discovered the scent was all her own.
He let the storm fade away in his mind as he fixed his thoughts entirely on Sally. Every detail about her. It calmed him down and his breathing grew steadier and more even.
She is the only compass I need.
Suddenly, in his heart, he knew he would return to her. But not today. Not for a long time, he feared.
It would take tremendous blood and toil and heartache, but he would return to her.
A terrible roaring, cracking sound tore his focus away from Sally. He glanced up to see the mast bearing down on him. He shouted in dismay, but there wasn’t time to move out of the way before it struck him hard. He went flying and a moment later his body hit the water. Everything went black.
20
Though she didn’t eat very much, Sally had managed to make it through most of breakfast without running back to the bathroom again. She decided if she could finish eating and get everything cleaned up without having to vomit again, it was a victory.
She watched Emma and Jayne as they ate. Both girls were giggling and talking excitedly about who they hoped was going to be their baby brother. They were so sweet, so innocent. She wished they could stay that way forever.
She would give anything to protect them from the harsh realities of life. That’s why she still hadn’t told them about their father.
What could she say? She couldn’t tell them the truth. Even if they could understand a concept beyond most adult’s comprehension, they weren’t yet old enough to be trusted to keep a secret. If they accidently told other people what had happened to their father, it would quickly get ugly and probably dangerous. People would call her crazy and possibly try to take her children away from her.
As it was, people were getting edgier and edgier about the fact that she continued to refuse to hold a funeral. She supposed she wasn’t surprised that no one understood why she was holding out, especially because she couldn’t tell anyone the whole truth. But she knew it was only a matter of time before someone said something to the girls, either by accident or on purpose.
She wasn’t yet prepared for that day to come.
She might never be.
Her phone rang, startling her out of her reverie. She grabbed it off the counter and glanced at the Caller ID.
It was Janis.
“Hello?” she asked, her breath catching in her throat.
“Hi, how are you doing?”
“Okay. Did you…” she glanced at the girls and walked slowly to the living room, cupping the phone with her other hand and speaking in a soft tone. “What did you find?”
“We took samples from the boat, the soil, the trees growing through it--all of it. Everything we could. I wanted to call you right away because the results have come back.”
“And?”
“As near as they can tell, the boat has been there since the 1860s.”
Her chest tightened and she suddenly couldn’t breathe. Even though she’d been prepared for this answer, it still gutted her. “One hundred and seventy years.”
“Yeah.”
Her stomach twisted hard. “I’ll call you back.”
She ended the call and ran for the bathroom.
~
Mark awoke with a start as salt water splashed against his lips and flooded his mouth. He coughed. His lungs felt as if they were on fire. His head was spinning and part of him wanted to return to the darkness.
Another wave splashed him.
I’m in the water, he realized, panic racing through him. He started to kick and splash out with his arms, twisting around as he looked for the boat.
“Stop fighting me!” Dave yelled.
Only then did Mark realize the priest had his arm clamped around his chest. He immediately stopped kicking and lifted his chin for a breath.
“What happened?”
“The mast cracked. It hit you hard and knocked you into the water. I dove in after you and the whole ship went down seconds later.”
“How long was I out?” Mark asked, realizing the wind and rain had diminished to almost nothing. That mast must have hit him hard enough to completely knock him out for quite some time.
Dave’s breathing was ragged. “It felt like forever. Probably about an hour.”
“You’ve been keeping me afloat for an hour?” he asked, shocked beyond comprehension.
“No. Thankfully, the cork jacket took care of that, for the most part. I’ve been keeping you from flipping over so that your face was submerged. Making sure you were floating on your back and not taking in too much water. The cork jacket would have been useless to me if you still drowned.”
“Oh, man. I’m so sorry.”
“Stop saying that,” Dave said. “You apologize about everything, and none of this is on you. You think you can keep yourself upright now? I could use a break.”
“Yeah.”
Dave moved his arm a bit and after a moment, let go. Mark began to tilt forward and he stretched out his arms to right himself.
“So, on a scale of one to ten, how screwed are we?” Mark asked.
“Well, you know. I’m just guessing here, but it’s only about…ten.”
“Great. As long as we’re not in too much trouble.”
“Yeah, it’s cool. We’ve got several minutes left before we die hideous deaths.”
“Well, as long as we’re not too rushed. You know, I’ve got a whole laundry list of things I need to say to you.”
“Remember, I know you. I’m not sure we have long enough for you to actually confess your sins.”
“Please. I’m a saint and you know it.”
“Right. I always forget that part. I’ll have to remember to notify the Pope about you if we live through this,” Dave said.
“Yeah, you get right on that.”
“I will--just as soon as you figure out a way to get us back alive. You know, not only to land, but also to the future?”
“You’ve had an entire hour out here without interruptions to think about it and you haven’t solved the world’s problems yet?” Mark asked.
“The world’s yes. Ours, not so much. I had to leave something for you to do when you woke up.”
“Great. Thanks for that.”
“Hey, what are friends for?” Dave said. He smirked.
Mark stared at him wide-eyed. For a moment he imagined Dave was on the verge of completely losing it. They were out in the middle of the ocean about to drown and Dave was grinning like a cat.
Mark suddenly felt the corners of his own mouth twitching and before he knew it, he was laughing, too.
If he’s going crazy, then it’s catching.
They laughed together for a minute, the laughter of men who were glad, if surprised, to still be alive, for however long that was going to be.
“How about we figure out a way to get back onto land and into some dry clothes?” Dave finally said. “It’s freezing out here.”
“Now you’re speaking my language.”
At that moment, they heard a ship’s bell ringing in the distance. Mark twisted around. There, in the distance, was the same exact fishing boat which had rescued them last time. He put his fingers to his lips and responded with a loud whistle. Then he and Dave both began shouting and waving their arms. The boat bore down on them,
and ten minutes later they were sitting on its deck, wrapped in warm blankets.
The fisherman had looked less than pleased to see them again and had grumbled a lot under his breath.
Loco was the only word Mark had understood.
“We’re lucky he came out here,” Mark said.
Despite the cold, Dave turned red. “It was a little more than luck.”
“What?”
“Apparently his daughter was worried about--um, me.” He cleared his throat. “She forced him to come after us.”
Mark grinned and slapped Dave on the shoulder. “Look at you, impressing the beautiful ladies.”
“That’s so not funny,” Dave said, turning even redder, if that were possible.
“Oh yes, it really is.”
“Knock it off.”
“Look, just tell her the truth. You’re a Catholic priest. Married to the Church and all that.”
“But I’m not,” Dave pointed out.
“Um, last I checked, you were,” Mark said, raising an eyebrow.
“Not here. Not now. There’s no way for me to prove it. I have no papers. No bishop in this time period knows anything about me, and I don’t want to draw attention to the fact that I know almost nothing about this time period and its customs.”
“I thought things in the Church have pretty much stayed the same for two thousand years.”
“Yes, but there are some subtleties, nuances… Look, the last thing either of us needs is to be accused of being heretics. Or worse.”
Mark stared at him for a minute before asking, “You’re afraid that if you try to be a priest here you’ll screw up in some way you couldn’t have anticipated and you’ll end up being excommunicated?”
“Yes.”
“But, does that count? It’s not even your time period. I mean, does someone from the past have authority over you instead of your own superiors in the future?”
“I’ve been going over and over it in my mind, and all I know is that I really don’t want to find out. Like I told you—I want to go home as badly as you do. So, I can’t be a priest here.”
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