Our Time Is Now

by Chloe Douglas

  Overcome with emotion, he removed the dress from the padded hanger and held it against his chest. Taking a deep breath, he filled his nostrils with the faint scent of Joy perfume that still clung to the fabric.

  “Damn you, Jessica,” he muttered, tears streaming down his face.

  Chapter 15

  “Do you think it’s wise after tonight’s episode to go gallivanting to Shepherdstown?”

  Taking exception to Jessica’s choice of words, Gideon stepped across the foyer and turned on an electrical lamp. He suspected that the lady had purposefully waited until they’d returned to Highland House to toss down her gauntlet.

  “I won’t be gallivanting,” he informed her. “I shall be working. Rather strenuously, I suspect.”

  “My point exactly.” Removing her wrap, Jessica flung it over the newel post.

  Wondering at the reason for her concern, he said, “Does it bother you that I’ll be away from Highland House for four weeks?”

  “It doesn’t bother me so much as… well, if you must know, I’ve gotten used to having you around the house. And I’m worried that you haven’t given yourself enough time to fully recover from your bout of pneumonia.” Gnawing on her lower lip, Jessica slid her fingers over the banister, her movements innocently seductive. “And there is the, um, you know, the time travel thing.”

  Ah, yes. The time travel thing. That, he’d wager, was the true reason for her opposition.

  “Have no fear. I shall endeavor not to embarrass you in any way by mentioning the forbidden subject.”

  “Like you didn’t mention it tonight at McGuff’s?”

  “Correct me if I am wrong—” and knowing the lady, she would do just that—“but I don’t recall mentioning my adventures in time travel to anyone.”

  “While it’s true that you didn’t refer to it directly, I had a busy time glossing over your gaffes.” As she spoke, Jessica folded her hands primly in front of her waist, looking every inch the stern school mistress. “This is why I want you to see a doctor. These so-called spells, your insistence that you traveled through time—none of it is normal.”

  Suspecting that she’d been working herself up to this confrontation, Gideon gently brushed the backs of his fingers across Jessica’s flushed cheekbone, noticing how her face colored with heightened emotion. “I am a normal man, Jessica.”

  With all the wants and desires of any normal man, he suddenly realized, surprised to discover that he was highly aroused. And though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, he recognized that this was no ordinary lust. What he was experiencing was more subtle, and far and away more intriguing, than mere bodily desire. Inciting an inner struggle between what he should do and what he wanted to do: head and heart, the age-old battle.

  “Whether you know it or not, I’m trying to help you, Gideon. Why do you have to be so darned resistant? To everything,” Jessica said with added emphasis, her hazel-green eyes shimmering with unshed ears.

  Gideon slid his hand to the back of Jessica’s neck as he slowly drew her toward him. “It is not my intention to cause you so much distress.”

  What occurred next happened so effortlessly, so naturally, that Gideon could almost believe he’d wrapped Jessica Reardon in his arms a thousand times before. Like carved puzzle pieces, their two bodies fit perfectly together, her head nestled under his chin, his torso aligned against her soft, womanly curves. Male and female. A perfect symmetry of opposites.

  Jessica tilted her head upward, her lips achingly close to his.

  “I am in awe of you,” he confessed, trying to wade his way through the onslaught of emotions that suddenly bombarded him. “In truth, I have not experienced this kind of… yearning in a very long time, and I’m finding it difficult to resist—”

  “So stop resisting.”

  The unexpected challenge instantly sparked the flame, prompting Gideon to lay siege to Jessica’s lips with a fierce urgency.

  As she clutched the front of his vest Jessica opened her mouth, inviting him to deepen the contact. Capturing her tongue, he thoroughly suckled her, seeking to reinvent the kiss anew. With a soft moan she arched her back, enabling Gideon to feel her nipples as they bore into his chest. Instantly, blood rushed to his groin, hardening him. At that moment, they were as one. No light between them, only a raging fire.

  Desiring more intimate contact, Gideon slid a hand down the column of Jessica’s spine. He caressed the rounded curve of her buttock before hefting her against his erection.

  Sweet bliss.

  Unable to control his primal urges Gideon rocked against her, wanting to possess Jessica Reardon, body and soul. Wanting to take her right there in the middle of the front foyer. When she flexed her hips against him, matching his fervor, Gideon groaned with pleasure.

  It’s been so long. Not since Sarah have I wanted a woman with such ardent—

  The wayward thought was a like a sobering slap to the face.

  “What in God’s name am I doing?” he muttered in stunned disbelief as he yanked his mouth away from Jessica’s. Guilt-ridden, his arms dropped to his sides as he stepped away from her.

  “I thought you were kissing me,” Jessica said, her brows drawing together in bewilderment.

  Horrified by what he’d just done, Gideon shamefully glanced heavenward. “Forgive me, dearest Sarah.”

  Jessica’s eyes opened wide; her expression displayed utter shock. “How is it that you know Sarah?”

  Forcing himself to meet Jessica’s gaze, he said, “Sarah is my wife.”

  * * *

  Emotionally sucker-punched, Jessica gaped at the man standing across from her.

  All along, she’d been dreaming about Gideon and his wife Sarah!

  Night after night, dream after dream, experiencing some paranormal ménage à trois, she’d been eavesdropping on the MacAllisters. Moreover, she’d somehow been able to tap into Sarah’s innermost thoughts and heartfelt emotions, experiencing them as if they were her own thoughts and feelings.

  But how? And why?

  Completely thrown for a loop, Jessica suspected that she’d overheard Gideon mutter his wife’s name that first night he’d arrived at Highland House, when he’d been in a feverish delirium. Her subconscious mind must have latched onto that—along with the fact that Gideon had been garbed in a Confederate reenactor’s uniform—and had simply run with it, creating a vivid nineteenth-century dreamscape. And because Gideon kept insisting that he was a Confederate soldier, her subconscious mind continued to set the dreams in that time period.

  “Sarah died eleven months ago,” Gideon said, unprompted.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Jessica murmured, still reeling from the shock of hearing those four damning words—Sarah is my wife. Struggling to get a grip on her runaway emotions, she unthinkingly blurted the question uppermost in her mind: “When you kissed me just now, who were you thinking about: me or Sarah?”

  Gideon’s blues eyes opened wide, telling her he was clearly startled by the question.

  “Tell me,” she demanded, besieged with jealousy. “I need to know who you were thinking about.”

  “It was your lips that I kissed,” Gideon assured her, his gaze boring into her with a searing intensity. “And it was your body that I held in my arms.”

  Tears pricked her eyes. “This is more than I can handle right now.” Too exhausted to be able to think straight, Jessica turned toward the staircase. “I’m going to bed.”

  Latching a hand around her upper arm, Gideon prevented her departure. “I didn’t tell you about Sarah because, after she was buried, I never again spoke of her death.”

  Jessica was admittedly surprised by the disclosure. “Not to anyone?”

  Gideon dolefully shook his head.

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, Jessica couldn’t imagine keeping all of that anguish to one’s self. If it hadn’t been for the months of grief counseling after her parents died, she would have never emotionally survived that tragic ordeal.

&nb
sp; “I should have told you,” Gideon continued, still maintaining a hold on her arm. “Instead, I behaved like a cad, and I humbly beg your forgiveness. I shall pack my things and leave Highland House first thing in the morning.”

  “Under no circumstance are you leaving,” Jessica declared, placing a staying hand on his chest.

  “I do not wish to cause further offense.”

  “You didn’t offend me. But you did hurt my feelings,” she reluctantly admitted. “Although that’s no reason for you to permanently move out. How about we talk about this tomorrow? I’ll be gone most of the day conducting interviews, but when I get home, we can hash this out. All right?”

  “As you wish.” Gideon released his hold on her arm and solemnly nodded his head. “I bid you goodnight, Jessica.”

  Jessica tried to summon a smile, but was unable to make her lips curl in the right direction. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, before turning on her heel and ascending the staircase.

  Reaching the top of the steps, Jessica made a beeline for the bathroom. In short order, she covered the basics, and a few minutes later, she was safely ensconced behind her closed bedroom door. Her shoulders slumped as it belatedly dawned on her how close she’d just come to losing Gideon. The moment—no, the millisecond—that Gideon had expressed a desire to leave Highland House, her heart sank, plummeting to somewhere in the vicinity of her ankles. It was one thing for him to leave temporarily to go to Shepherdstown, but the thought of him leaving forever was more than she could bear.

  Making her realize just how important he’d become to her.

  Which undoubtedly explained the heartache she’d experienced upon learning that not only did Sarah really exist, but she’d been married to Gideon. Furthermore, she knew that Sarah had been the love of his life, and she dared Gideon to tell her differently. She’d seen it in his sad, mournful face countless times over the last week, but fool that she was she hadn’t realized what she’d been seeing.

  Knowing that Gideon had loved, and loved greatly, was what hurt the most. That and the fact that he’d made no mention of it.

  But do I really have a right to condemn Gideon when I also harbor a secret?

  Somewhat guiltily, Jessica thought about her own lie of omission. Of course, her secret was completely different in nature. Her marriage to Richard Bragg had been anything but loving. But given Gideon’s puritanical views on the sanctity of marriage, she was now afraid of what his reaction might be if she did spill the beans.

  “Since Gideon mysteriously arrived at Highland House, I’ve been riding an emotional rollercoaster,” she muttered, worried that she’d grown so emotionally attached to a man who, more than likely, had hit his head at the Civil War reenactment, suffered a brain injury, and was now convinced he was a time-traveling Confederate soldier.

  Removing her dress, Jessica stepped over to the closet and tossed it into the dirty clothes hamper. With a softly uttered “ah,” she unsnapped her bra and tossed it into the hamper on top of the dress before slipping into an oversized T-shirt. Padding over to the other side of the room, she turned off the overhead light and climbed into bed.

  No sooner did her head hit the pillow than Jessica rode a somnolent wave that crested in a burst of brilliant illumination. Emerging into the light, she found herself standing in the middle of her own living room. Except that it wasn’t decorated at all like her living room. Red damask drapes hung at the windows, and the room was filled with very formal, upholstered Victorian furniture. At the far end of the room, she saw Gideon standing next to an ornately carved table.

  Still somewhat lucid, Jessica immediately tried to back out of the dream, to turn around and exit the room. She didn’t want to be there, privy to Gideon and Sarah’s life. But it was as if someone else was driving the dream bus, refusing to let her depart or to even wake up.

  As she tentatively approached the table, Jessica heard a woman softly whimper. Recognizing the voice, she reluctantly merged with her dream avatar and let her consciousness fuse itself to Sarah’s body… until they were completely bound to one another—one mind, one soul.

  Almost immediately, she gasped in pleasurable delight, belatedly realizing that while Gideon was bent over the table, she was on top of it, splayed beneath him…

  * * *

  Because there was no time to undress, Gideon pried her legs apart, positioning Sarah near the edge of the table. Given the smile that hovered on his lips, she knew that he thoroughly enjoyed the intimate sight visible through the slit in her pantalettes. Lowering himself to his knees, he slid his hands under her buttocks and lifted her to his mouth. She whimpered, shamelessly undulating against him.

  His tongue and heated breath soon incited a riot of tiny sparks that pulsed across her lower body and up her spine.

  “I want to feel you… inside of me,” she whispered, desperate to mate with him.

  Gideon rose to his feet and hurriedly unbuttoned his trousers, shoving them to his haunches. Extending her hand, Sarah took hold of his stiffened manhood. As he wedged himself between her thighs, she guided him to her moistened crevice.

  In the next instant, she gasped aloud as her body yielded to him. In that charged moment, they were truly husband and wife, profoundly bound together, one to the other.

  Like a wanton, Sarah writhed beneath him, her taffeta-clad body sliding across the table as Gideon repeatedly plunged into her. Whimpering insensibly, she reveled in the sensual onslaught, in the burst of passion that gave rise to what could only be called a mindless frenzy.

  Peering into Gideon’s eyes, she saw that his ardent gaze was enlivened with a wild desperation. Shaken to the core, Sarah sank her fingers into his upper arms, holding onto him as tightly as possible. Their lovemaking had been an impetuous act, both of them having been seized with a sudden need for one last coupling.

  Sarah’s breath quickened, each thrust taking her ever nearer to love’s pinnacle. Then, unable to stop the inevitable, she began to spasm. Arching her neck, she moaned aloud. Oblivious to everything else, she clung to those radiant moments of exquisite bliss.

  “You are… my only love,” Gideon uttered, just before he began to shudder in the throes of climax.

  “And you are my heart’s delight,” Sarah said softly, her love for him pouring forth in a torrent of murmured endearments and fluttering kisses.

  Long moments passed before Gideon finally withdrew from her. Hitching his gray trousers over his hips, he refastened them. That done, he silently offered her a helping hand. Just as silently, she accepted it. Heavy-hearted, Sarah then watched as Gideon donned a resplendent, dove-gray uniform tunic.

  “How do I look?” her husband asked as he buckled his gun holster and sword scabbard around his waist.

  She stepped toward him and smoothed a hand over the woolen fabric that covered his chest. “Like a soldier,” she murmured, her heart so full of sorrow that it washed over her in unrelenting waves.

  The day had finally come—the Greenbrier County troops had been ordered by the state governor to report for active duty. In a few minutes’ time, Gideon would be heading off to war.

  In the two weeks since Virginia had seceded from the Union, there had been an air of barely contained excitement throughout the state. To fill the muster rolls, editorialists at The Greenbrier Dispatch had waxed poetic over the gallantry of the county men. A gallantry yet untested in battle.

  And she prayed it never would be.

  “Why the sad face? Everyone knows the war won’t last more than a few months,” Gideon said, pulling her into his arms.

  “If I’m sad, it’s because I can’t bear the thought of losing you. I’ll never forgive you, Gideon, if you get yourself shot.” Or killed, she thought, but didn’t dare utter those words aloud.

  “I shall endeavor to remember that at the start of each battle,” he teased, nuzzling his lips against her brow.

  A loud knock caused them to pull apart. Excusing himself, Gideon walked into the central hall and opened
the front door. A young, fresh-faced private exchanged a salute with him.

  “Major MacAllister, the men are assembled on the Lewisburg Pike and are ready to march out, sir.”

  “Thank you, Private Guthridge. I shall join the troops shortly.”

  Once more, both men saluted before Gideon closed the door.

  Puffed-up gray peacocks, that’s what they are, every last one of them, Sarah bitterly ruminated, convinced that they were fools for rushing off to war.

  Hoping to forestall Gideon’s departure, she said, “Did you remember to pack those winter socks that I knitted?”

  “As well as the new woolen vest and flannel scarf.” Gideon’s blue eyes twinkled mischievously. “I even packed that heavy overcoat you insisted upon, although I don’t foresee much snow this summer.”

  While he meant to cheer her up with his carefree remark, she found no humor in the situation. The man she loved was leaving, quite possibly forever. How could he stand there and make merry of it?

  Taking hold of both her hands, Gideon pulled her toward him. Her heart erratically pounded against her breastbone. They had only a few moments left.

  As Sarah choked back the tears, she tried to maintain a brave face. “I love you so much, Gideon.”

  “As I love you, Sarah.” Gideon tenderly kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her mouth, his lips conveying the very love he spoke of. “As I shall always love you. Never forget that I am ever yours.”

  Those were his last words to her.

  Dazed, Sarah stood motionless as Gideon took his leave.

  Hearing the jangle of harness and stirrups, she rushed to the window and drew aside the heavy drapes. With tears streaming down her face, she watched Gideon mount his horse. Desperately wishing that she could touch him one last time, she placed a hand on the window pane.

  Just then, a breeze blew a handful of pink cherry blossoms across the drive. Like those fragile blossoms, she trembled as she watched her husband trot down the pebbled lane to where the assembled troops waited at the bottom of the hill.