All In Time

by Ciana Stone

  “And when you came home, the Sight took you,” Nadine said. “And you painted this.”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you feel when you look at it, Sara?”

  “Loss,” Sara replied without thinking then paused. “I mean…”

  “No, you meant loss. Let’s explore that. What about this image speaks of loss to you?”

  “The little boy,” Sara said, not needing to look at the image still displayed on the computer to know it in intimate detail. “Cradled in the woman’s arms, lying there on the road with fire and wreckage all around them. It’s like a nightmare. There’s fear and confusion, but most of all sadness and loss.”

  “Whose loss, Sara?” Nadine prompted. “Don’t think, just answer.”

  “His. No, hers. No…I don’t know. It’s jumbled.”

  Nadine nodded. “It will come. Don’t fight it. You’re still trying to control it, to make it all make sense in your conscious mind. You have to give in to it and let it come on its own.”

  “I try,” Sara said, twirling her teacup in its saucer. “Really, I do.”

  “You’re doing fine, honey,” Nadine said gently and reached out to put her hand on Sara’s wrist. “Just fine.”

  Sara stared into her teacup for a few moments, fighting tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. “This…Sight. I don’t know how to use it. You’ve always said it was for good, to help others, but I can’t help anyone. Not even myself.”

  “Oh Sara, honey, that’s not true. You’ve come such a long way.”

  Sara looked up at her friend and mentor. “Do you ever think about that day, Nadine? The day you found me, I mean? Does it make any sense to you? It doesn’t to me. How did I end up on that road? And where did I come from? Who leaves a baby on the side of the road and just drives off?”

  “Sara, this is old ground, and ground whose twists and turns are not yet navigable. As I’ve told you all along, when the time comes the answers will reveal themselves. Until then, your job is to learn to be comfortable with your gifts and to use them for good.”

  Sara sighed and leaned back in her chair. “It’s never tried to take me when I was with someone before.”

  “And yet last night it did.”

  Sara nodded. “What does it mean?”

  “That’s for you to discover,” Nadine said. “Obviously, Morgan Nicholaus holds significance in your life. And the only way to discover what that significance is, is to spend time with him.”

  Sara smiled. “Now that’s homework I wouldn’t mind.”

  Nadine laughed. “I don’t imagine you would. Now, I have a client coming in a few minutes so I need to prepare. Copy the image onto my computer and I’ll have another look at it later. I want you to put it aside for now. Don’t look at it again. Let your subconscious have time to process it. When your mind has translated it, the answers to its meaning will come to you.”

  “Okay,” Sara said and stood. “Thanks, Nadine. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Nadine rounded the table and pulled Sara into her embrace. “I love you, pumpkin.”

  “I love you.” Sara melted into the comfort of the embrace. Nadine’s was the only love she’d ever known. Most of the time she thought that was enough and forgot about the mystery of her life, and the string of unsuccessful attempts at relationships she’d had.

  But her introduction to Danu, her mission and the appearance of Morgan Nicholaus in her life had wakened more than mystery. It had given birth to a longing she didn’t know how to cope with. She wanted to believe that her mission was one of worth, that her life had real purpose. That in itself was a longing she’d not previously known. But the biggest and most profound longing came from Morgan. Her first look into his eyes had her yearning for the kind of love one can only find with their soulmate.

  “Give it time, honey,” Nadine whispered. “If he’s the one, you’ll know soon enough.”

  Not surprised in the least that Nadine had read her secret longings, and grateful that she hadn’t yet suspected anything about Danu, Sara pulled back and smiled. “Patience. Got it. Well, not really. But I’m working on it.”

  Nadine chuckled. “There’s my girl. I always know when you get that sassy tone that you’re back. Now off with you. Call me later.”

  “I will. Have a good day,” Sara said and headed for the door. “I love you.”

  “And I you,” Nadine replied.

  Sara left and Nadine sat down at the table, turning the computer to face her. For a long time she stared at the screen. “Morgan Nicholaus,” she murmured and reached over to turn off the computer.

  Chapter Five

  The car bumped. Like she’d run over something on the road. Which she knew she hadn’t. Then it bumped again. Sara’s face tightened in a frown as the car went into a series of bumps. She steered over to the side of the road and turned on her emergency flashers then got out.

  “Great,” she grumbled as she saw the flat tire on the back driver’s side. “Just great.”

  It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to change a flat. The problem was that she had no spare. She went for her purse and pulled out her cell phone. It was dead. “Well screw me,” she complained and looked both ways up and down the road, trying to decide which way to go.

  Rather than hike back to Nadine’s she opted to head down the road. There was a house not far, perhaps a mile. Perhaps the people who lived there would let her use their phone and she could call for help.

  The drive leading to the house was narrow and rutted, old gnarled trees formed a thick umbrella, creating a shadowed tunnel. In her mind she could see gnomes peering from behind the trees, and fairies with iridescent dragonfly wings darting about.

  The house was dark. Dark wood siding, a dark shingled roof, and sheltered beneath tall trees to put it in shadow. It was almost foreboding. She dismissed the idea and proceeded up the steps and across the narrow porch to the door.

  There was no bell, so she knocked. And waited. She knocked again. When no one answered after several moments, she turned away. Just as she did the door opened. She turned back around and her eyes widened in surprise. A flush of desire rushed through her the moment she saw him.

  “Morgan!”

  “Sara?” Morgan pushed open the screened door. “What are you doing here?”

  He didn’t seem particularly pleased to see her, which stabbed at her, but what was more, he didn’t look particularly well. Haunted eyes ringed with dark shadows stared at her from a face tight with tension or pain, she couldn’t tell which.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” she said hurriedly, feeling slightly embarrassed at the flutter in her belly and the heat that had settled in her sex merely from looking at him. “I have a flat and no spare and my cell phone is dead so I came looking for a phone to call for help.”

  “Please, come in,” Morgan said and held the door for her. Seeing her on his doorstep had thrown him for a loop. He’d wanted to call her since the moment he’d gotten home the previous night. Wanted to be back in her company. Wanted to touch her. Wanted the voices to disappear.

  And he’d not wanted to think about Nadine and her offer to help him with the voices. Not wanted to try to figure out how she could have known or what he should do about it.

  “I’m really sorry to barge in on you,” Sara said as he closed the door. “If I can just use your phone I’ll call Nadine and have her meet me at my car.”

  “Nadine?” Morgan’s spine tightened at the mention of the name.

  Sara smiled at him. “Sorry. Nadine Tosto. She lives not too far from here. I know. I probably should’ve just walked back to her house, but I knew there was a house here and thought it would be closer.”

  “How do you know Nadine?” he asked.

  Sara’s smile faded. “That’s kind of a long story, so in a nutshell, she raised me.”

  Morgan’s curiosity was piqued. And he did not want Sara to leave. The moment she’d stepped into the house the voices had stopped. “
I’ll make a deal with you. You have coffee with me and tell me about Nadine, and I’ll help you with your car.”

  “Okay,” she said with a hint of a smile.

  Morgan led the way to the kitchen, hobbling on his sprained ankle.

  “What’s wrong with your leg?” she asked.

  “Sprained my ankle running.”

  “Oh I’m sorry. Listen, don’t worry about coffee, you should sit.”

  “It’s not that bad. Please.” He gestured to the table where his laptop was set up with thumbnails of some of his work on the screen. “Have a seat.”

  “Are these recent?” Sara asked as he started preparing coffee.

  “It’s a mix,” he replied. “Images I’ve been sticking away the last couple of years. Now I’m trying to decide whether to include any of them in a new book.”

  “Would you mind if I looked?” she asked.

  “No.” He looked over his shoulder at her with a smile. “Help yourself.”

  She did just that. He watched her as he got together cups and cream and sugar. She seemed totally engrossed. He leaned back against the counter and watched her, his hands wishing for a camera. How he would have loved to have taken her photo, capturing the light coming in from the kitchen window and slanting across the table, dust motes giving it a textured appearance, lighting one side of her face and casting the other side in shadows.

  It occurred to him how unaware she was of her own beauty. Absorbed in the photos she gazed at, her bottom lip drew up slightly, to be captured by her teeth, her face set in concentration. Just watching her made lust bloom strong and potent. How many nights had she appeared in his dreams? Her warm, lush body providing pleasure he’d never been able to equal in his waking hours. How was it possible that he’d dreamed her in such perfect detail and then found her in the flesh? What strange twist of fate was at work?

  A low beep signaled the coffee was ready. She didn’t blink or move at the sound. Morgan poured two cups and brought them to the table then fetched the sugar and cream.

  “How do you want it?” he asked as he sat down beside her.

  “Huh?” She looked up at him with wide eyes, a flush tinting her creamy skin. It was enough to make him daydream of laying her on the kitchen table and licking cream from her smooth skin.

  “Your coffee?”

  “Oh!” She smiled. “I like a little coffee with my cream and sugar.”

  Morgan laughed. “In that case, you better take care of it yourself.”

  “Thanks.” She accepted the spoon he offered and ladled several heaped spoons of sugar into her cup then topped it off with enough cream to turn the color to pale beige.

  “This shot…” She clicked the pad on the laptop to move back a few frames. “This is…incredible.”

  Morgan glanced at the photo. It was one he’d taken of a child picking wildflowers that grew around an old gnarled oak. Sunlight filtered down through the leaves, creating a dappled effect on the child. But the child’s hand, gently pulling on the fragile stem of a flower, was lit by a shaft of light.

  “It’s okay,” he commented and took a sip of his coffee.

  “Okay?” she asked with arched brows. “It’s fantastic! Look at the boy’s face, how hard he’s concentrating trying to pluck the flower. You can see petals on the ground where his fingers have slipped up the stem and pulled off petals. He’s being so careful. And the hand holding the flowers. Look how carefully he clutches them. This is something important to him. It’s more than just a casual sit-down-and-pluck-flowers. He’s doing this for a reason and whatever the reason is, it’s very important.”

  Morgan was stuck by her perception of the photo. “You see a lot.”

  “Only what’s there,” she replied.

  “No, I think you see a lot more. In fact, I’m starting to think that there’s a lot more to you than meets the eye.”

  Sara looked away. Oh yes, there was more. More than what she wanted him to know. Such as the fact that she’d been secretly lusting over him for years. Or that she possessed a gift, the ability to be taken by the Sight and paint things that had happened or would happen. Or that she had no idea where she came from. That she was a foundling. Found on the side of a road. Or that she’d been recruited by a woman nearly as old as time to find and save him.

  “Did I say something wrong?” Morgan asked.

  She shook her head. “No. It’s just…just that my life hasn’t exactly been normal.”

  “Whose has?” he asked.

  She turned to look at him and saw that he wasn’t teasing. His eyes bore that haunted expression she’d seen when he first opened the door. Suddenly she was filled with deep sadness. Tears welled up in her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  “For what?”

  “For your pain.”

  Morgan’s eyes widened. “What makes you think I have pain?”

  She swiped at the tears. “Your eyes.”

  This time it was Morgan who looked away. She didn’t know what to say so she leaned back, folded her hands in her lap and waited. Several minutes passed. When he spoke, it was in a low, flat tone.

  “On my twelfth birthday my father said my life was going to change forever. He was taking me somewhere. I don’t know where. There was an accident. An overturned RV and a tractor-trailer. A fire. He tried to help. He pulled a woman from the RV. She said her daughter was still inside. He went back for the child. There was an explosion. I never saw him again.”

  Sara’s breath caught in her throat and in the next instant the Sight claimed her with a force so strong that all conscious thought fled and darkness claimed her.

  Morgan heard the thud and whirled around. Sara was lying on the floor. Fear sprang to life like bitter bile inside him. He clambered over the chairs, knocking them out of the way to get to her. The pain in his ankle was forgotten as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his study.

  He laid her gently on the sofa and sat down beside her. “Sara?” he called softly, patting her face. “Sara? Can you hear me? Sara?”

  Her eyelids fluttered then opened. “Oh my god,” she whispered.

  “Are you okay?” He cupped her face in his hands. “Should I call an ambulance? Do you need food?”

  “No,” she whispered. “I’m fine.”

  “Someone who’s fine doesn’t just keel over,” he argued in a soft voice.

  “I’m fine,” she insisted. “Really.”

  “Then why did you faint?”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head fractionally. After a moment she opened her eyes. “I’ve seen what you described.”

  Something jolted inside him. Something that made him break into a cold sweat. His hands moved away from her face to grip her shoulders. “What do you mean you’ve seen it?”

  “The accident,” she whispered.

  “That’s impossible!” he barked sharper than he intended. “Why you’re…what, twenty-two? You weren’t even…”

  “Twenty-eight,” she interrupted softly and pushed up into a sitting position. “I’m twenty-eight.”

  “Well still, you couldn’t have seen it. I was twelve, which means you’d have been…an infant if you were even born.”

  “I didn’t say I was there, Morgan. I said I’ve seen it. And I can show you.”

  “You…what? No.” He got up and stepped back from the sofa. “This is crazy. You’re having a…I don’t know…a stroke or something. I need to call an ambulance.”

  “No, please!” She got to her feet. “Just let me show you.”

  “How?”

  “Your laptop,” she replied. “I have a disc in my purse. Put it in your laptop.”

  He wasn’t sure what was going on. Was she crazy? He would have been sure that was the case except for a funny feeling in his gut that told him differently. “Fine,” he said and headed for the kitchen.

  Sara took a deep breath and followed. She wasn’t at all sure this was the wise course of action, but everything inside her
was telling her to show him the image she’d created. It was too much to be a coincidence. The pieces were all there, waiting to be put together to form the picture.

  She felt a little detached at the moment. Maybe it was shock. But the Sight had never lied to her before. She believed what she’d been shown. The question was, could she make Morgan believe and could she fit together the missing pieces?

  She took the disc from her purse and inserted it into the drive of his laptop. “There’s only one file on it,” she said.

  Morgan clicked on the drive, and double-clicked on the image. When it opened, his face turned chalky and she thought he was going to fall. She grabbed his arm and helped him to a chair.

  “What the hell is going on?” he whispered, his eyes glued to the screen. “What are you trying to pull on me? How did you know about… Is this some kind of con?” He jumped up and towered over her, eyes flashing.

  “That’s it, isn’t it? You got information about me from one of my shrinks and thought you’d use it against me. Sashay in here looking like the woman I’ve been dreaming about and con me out of…of money or…or sell me on some bill of goods to rob me blind…or…or…”

  The moment he jumped up, fear spiked inside Sara. His eyes were hot with rage. But the moment the words “the woman I’ve been dreaming about” emerged from his mouth all fear fled. In its place was amazement and excitement.

  “You’ve been dreaming about me?” she asked in wonder. “Really?”

  Her question and the innocence on her face stopped Morgan dead in his tracks. He wanted to hang onto the anger. It was far easier to deal with the idea that she was a con artist than to believe she’d drawn the most traumatic event in his life before she ever met him. But there was no dishonesty in her eyes.

  “Sara,” he sighed and took hold of her upper arms. “What’s going on here?”

  “Fate?”

  “I guess that’s as good an explanation as any, but I really need more. Can you explain to me how you drew this?”