Tears pooled in Jessica’s eyes, the anguish in his voice tearing at her heart. “Gideon, I know what happened at Highland House on November the 7th, 1863. And I also know how it happened. Which is why I can say with complete certainty that you aren’t to blame.”
Gideon slowly shook his head, his confusion plainly evident. “You weren’t here. You can’t possibly know what took place on that ill-fated day.”
“You’re greatly mistaken,” she told him. “I know what occurred because I was here at Highland House… in 1863. I’m the woman whose forgiveness you seek.” As she spoke, Jessica placed a hand on Gideon’s forearm. “And I forgive you, Gideon. I forgave you a long time ago.”
“It can’t be,” he said adamantly, shaking his head as he backed away from her. “Sarah died one hundred and fifty-one years ago.”
“Yeah, about that. Um… this a toughie because—” Jessica shifted her weight from one sneaker-shod foot to the other, uncertain how to broach the topic of reincarnation—“as strange as it sounds, I was your wife Sarah Pemberton MacAllister in a prior incarnation.”
“No!” Gideon bellowed, his voice thick with emotion. “Such a thing is not humanly possible.”
Chapter 25
“Hey, I used to say the same thing about time traveling, remember?”
Evidently, Gideon didn’t because he proceeded to stare at Jessica as though she was a raving lunatic. The mad woman of Highland House.
Sensing that she was getting nowhere fast, Jessica said, “You want proof? Okay, let’s see… um, we met at Sweet Springs when Sarah got her foot caught in a mole hole. Two nights later, you charmed me into climbing out of my window and waltzing with you in the moonlight. A few days after that, we eloped. A few months after that, the war started.” Jessica stopped suddenly and wagged a chastising finger at Gideon. “And if you ever fight in another war, so help me God, I’ll clobber you.”
Gideon’s eyes opened wide, his expression having morphed into one of stunned incomprehension. “How can you possibly be privy to this information?”
“Like I said, I lived through it,” she reiterated. “All of it. The good times and the bad ones too.” About to raise the taboo topic of Sarah’s death, Jessica emotionally braced herself for Gideon’s reaction as she said, “In the fall of 1863, you were wounded at the Battle of Bristoe Station. That’s when you came home on a medical furlough. I begged you to remain at Highland House rather than return to active duty. But you refused to tender your military resignation because—”
“My God,” Gideon murmured, profound astonishment written all over his face. “There have been many times that I’ve seen a haunting resemblance between you and Sarah. Indeed, it has often baffled me as to how you could both possess the same passionate nature, the same generous spirit.”
Jessica gnawed on her lower lip, her heart beating a mile a minute. “So then you… you actually believe me?”
Extending a hand in her direction, Gideon cupped one side of her face. As he gently smoothed the pad of his thumb over her trembling lips, he slowly nodded his head. “There’s no doubt in my mind that you are telling the truth. Although I’m confounded as to how such a thing is even remotely possible.”
“I’m a little confounded by that myself. It’s called reincarnation, and it has to do with the transmigration of the soul.” Then, with a shaky smile, she offered a more pedestrian explanation. “As best I understand it, when we die, the soul packs its bags and moves out, only to take up residence in another body. All of which means that rather than driving in the express lane, our souls take the scenic route to heaven.”
“If I understand what you’re saying, the soul lives on in a different body.” Gideon took several moments to digest that before he said, “Although the idea beggars description, some things in life must be accepted on blind faith. Clearly, this is one of those instances.” Verdict given, Gideon gaped at her like an awestruck groupie, clearly bedazzled.
“Is something the matter?” Jessica asked, unnerved by his rapt scrutiny.
“To think that Sarah resides in your body is truly—”
“You can stop right there,” she interjected, horrified to think that it was Sarah he wanted, not her. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m not Sarah. I used to be, but… but that was a long time ago. All that remains of Sarah are little bits and pieces. In this lifetime, I’m Jessica. And if you can’t accept that fact, then—” Suddenly aware that she was on the verge of delivering a “take it or leave it” ultimatum, Jessica clamped her mouth tightly shut.
Jeez, Louise. Am I really jealous of… me? How absurd was that?
“Jessica, whatever would make you think that I want you to be anyone other than who you are?” Gideon asked with a look of utter sincerity. “Since coming forward in time, I’ve felt like a resurrected man. And that is solely because of you. Not only are you the woman who pulled me from the grave, you are also the woman who gave me a reason to live.”
His ardent declaration filled Jessica’s heart with a rush of emotion so potent that she swayed slightly, having to put a hand on Gideon’s chest to steady herself.
Raising that hand to his mouth, Gideon pressed his lips against her knuckles. “In truth, you saved me from myself.”
As she thought about the near-dying man who’d mysteriously shown up on her doorstep, Jessica choked back a sob. If Gideon hadn’t traveled through time, he would have died of pneumonia in the year 1864. But he did cross the threshold of time. And, in so doing, he’d given Jessica something that she’d long been searching for: love. That simple, four-letter word which had the power to make a person whole, and good, and beautiful.
“You saved me too,” she whispered. “More than you’ll ever know.”
With a tender smile, Gideon pulled Jessica into his embrace. “I am fully cognizant that you are different from Sarah,” he murmured in her ear, his warm breath sending a tingle down her spine. “You are a woman of this time and place. But, for one moment, may I address those ‘bits and pieces’ of Sarah which you still carry inside of you?” When she wordlessly nodded, Gideon set her at arms’ length, enabling him to better hold her gaze. “I want you to know that had I been here at Highland House on that long ago day, I would have done all in my power to prevent the terrible accident that took Sarah’s—”
“The fire wasn’t an accident,” Jessica blurted.
Gideon’s brows instantly drew together. “If the fire wasn’t an accident, then what, pray tell, was it?”
Now that she’d opened her big mouth, Jessica dismally realized she had to reveal everything she knew about Sarah’s murder—something she hadn’t intended to do just yet, having planned to ease Gideon into the unsettling revelation.
Her good intentions now thrown to the wayside, Jessica said, “Oren Tolliver forced me—Sarah, that is—into the barn. After which he… he set it on fire.”
In the aftermath of that horrific disclosure, Jessica observed the progression of emotions that flashed across Gideon’s face as his eyes first opened wide with shock. Then, a few seconds later, those beautiful blue orbs watered with anguished tears… just before they narrowed with an unadulterated rage.
“I’m going to track that bastard down and kill him,” Gideon hissed between clenched teeth.
Jessica placed a placating hand on his chest. “I’m afraid that vengeance isn’t possible.”
“Don’t you understand? He killed—”
“Oren Tolliver is dead,” she stated baldly. “And has been dead for more than a century.”
“No!”
That single word, bellowed to the heavens, was like the agonized cry of the damned. And it nearly broke Jessica’s heart to hear it.
“Gideon, please don’t be upset. That tragic episode is over and done with. It happened so… so long ago… and…” Unable to convince even herself, Jessica’s voice trailed into silence. While the hideous incident may have happened decades ago, because of her past life regression, Sarah’s death seemed
all too recent to her.
Seeing the abject grief on her beloved’s face, Jessica knew that she had to be strong. Later she could fall apart. But right now, at this critical juncture, Gideon needed her.
“Please, listen to what I’m about to say as it’s vitally important that you hear this.” When Gideon refused to meet her gaze, Jessica placed a hand on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her. “We can’t change the past. Because we live in the here and now, we can only affect the future. Which is why you need to let go of the anger. Don’t you see? We’ve been given a second chance. Please don’t destroy it with recrimination or dark thoughts about what happened long years ago. This may be the only chance we ever have to get our relationship right.”
* * *
Disoriented, Gideon dropped to his knees, the emotional upheaval more than he could bear. His head spinning, he instinctively reached for Jessica, wrapping his arms around her waist. At that moment, he was like a drowning man grasping for something, anything, to save himself from the swirling undertow.
As though she was standing a great distance away on the shoreline, Gideon faintly heard Jessica repeatedly utter his name. But he was too far gone to respond, trapped in a place where there was neither comfort nor redemption.
Battling to free himself from the dark, pitiless force that had seized his soul, Gideon tightened his hold on Jessica, smashing his face against her lower abdomen.
With each deep breath, he filled his senses with the smell of her—vanilla, autumn leaves, lemon balm. And underlying it all, a scent more full-bodied, more earthy than the others—a musky tang that incited his baser instincts. Incited by that feminine scent, Gideon burrowed his chin, his mouth, his nose against Jessica’s lower body, wanting nothing more than to lose himself in the arousing distraction of that one highly erotic scent.
But even that wasn’t enough.
Driven by an almost frantic need, he unzipped Jessica’s jeans. Shoving the denim aside he nuzzled his face against her silken undergarment, filling his nostrils with her fecund aroma. With each deep breath, his manhood lengthened and swelled. This was the scent that drove a man to rut.
Leaning over his shoulder, Jessica yanked his shirttails free. Tenderly she stroked the muscles of his back before raking her nails across his flesh.
Gideon groaned aloud, the pain she inflicted far more arousing than the gentler caress.
“Undress me,” Jessica rasped, her voice little more than a breathy whisper. “I know we’re outside but…” Mewling softly, she left the thought unfinished.
Impatiently Gideon removed first one, then the other sneaker. Finished with that, he pulled off her jeans and panties. Next he removed her sweater and T-shirt, as well as the lacy undergarment that bound her breasts, the name of which eluded him.
Still on his knees, Gideon appraised Jessica’s nude body from head to foot as she stood before him. Her breasts—gorgeously flushed with passion—were a sight to behold. But it was the auburn nest between her legs that garnered his undivided attention. Purposefully he placed a thumb on either side of her sex. Pushing the outer petals up and out, he exposed every lush inch of her. Barely able to pull air into his lungs, he gazed upon the glistening, velvety folds, certain he’d never beheld a more potently carnal sight.
Holding her open, he dredged his tongue through her moist folds, greedily lapping at her tangy juices. When he found her hidden nubbin, he suckled it. As Jessica began to buck and writhe, he grabbed hold of a rounded buttock and held her in place.
Determined to leave his mark on her, Gideon kept at it until he had her wet and ready. Only then did he pull away from her.
“Please, Gideon… don’t stop. I’m so close.”
“As am I,” he muttered, tugging at his zipper. He shoved the denim fabric off his hips, unwilling to take the time to shuck the garment completely. With his right hand, he palmed his testicles. From the tight feel of them, he knew it would be a hard, fast ride. “Lay down in front of me.”
Jessica did as bidden, taking the unasked measure of spreading her legs wide open, the sight of which was more than he could handle. Without preamble, Gideon angled his hips between her legs and thrust himself to the hilt. Relentless, he pushed as hard and deep as he could. Over and over.
How long he kept at it, he had no idea.
Suddenly, Jessica clutched his upper arms, her fingers digging into his biceps. “I love you, Gideon.”
Hearing that, his breath caught in his throat… she loves me.
As if Jessica had uttered some magical incantation, Gideon’s rabid lust ameliorated, becoming a different impulse all together. Gone was the anguish, the fury, the grief. Gone the frantic need to satisfy a primal, bodily urge. In that instant, he became aware of the color of Jessica’s eyes, the texture of her skin, the feel of her warm breath fluttering across his face.
And with that awareness came deliverance, their lovemaking a reaffirmation of life’s creative potential. Vital. Powerful. Uplifting.
Awestruck, he saw, heard, and felt Jessica reach her climax. No sooner did her orgasm end than his began, the seed sapped from his body in one long, cathartic burst of pure ecstasy.
In love’s aftermath, Gideon watched, spellbound, as Jessica’s hazel-colored eyes turned a verdant shade of green—just one of the “bits and pieces” of Sarah that lived on in this extraordinary woman.
Love. Reincarnation. Eternity. As he continued to gaze into Jessica’s eyes, each word took on a heightened meaning.
“I love you, Jessica Reardon,” Gideon avowed in a reverent voice. “Forever and a day.”
His lady love smoothed a hand over his flushed cheek. “Not even death can separate us.”
“ ‘Then was a time of joy and love. And now the time returns again,’ ” he whispered, quoting from his favorite poet. Made whole by their union, Gideon pressed his forehead to Jessica’s and closed his eyes, the pain finally gone.
* * *
Staring at the orange flames that hissed and sparked in the living room fireplace, Richard Bragg forcefully jabbed the iron poker against a glowing log.
For the last four weeks, he’d constantly obsessed over how he would punish Jessica for her defiance. Her disobedience. For the loss of prestige that he’d suffered at her hand. For the laying to waste of all his dreams and aspirations. But most of all, for her betrayal of their wedding vows, having caught her red-handed in a flagrant act of infidelity.
And while thoughts of retribution had somewhat diminished the burning pain in his heart, they did nothing to alleviate the all-consuming desire for revenge.
Sweet, life-affirming revenge.
To that end, he’d spent the last month plotting. Planning. Meticulously reviewing how he would punish his whore of a wife, not about to leave a single detail to chance.
Needing to vent his fury, Richard snatched his Smartphone out of his trouser pocket. After making certain that he blocked his number, he placed the call. Bounced to voicemail, he ground his teeth as he listened to Jessica’s recorded message.
With growing impatience, he waited for the prompt before he hissed “Bitch!” in a lowered tone of voice.
Enraged that his wife refused to answer the phone, Richard yanked off his wedding band. On the verge of hurling it into the flames, he instead clutched it tightly in his hand, unable to follow through on the impulse.
Shoving the ring back onto his finger, he marched out of the living room and made his way to the master bedroom. In dire need of a cleansing purgative, he threw open the closet door and grabbed an armful of Jessica’s clothing, including his favorite green silk evening gown, roughly yanking the garments off of the clothing rod. His arms laden, he strode back to the living room and shoved his booty into the roaring fire.
As he watched the flames rapaciously consume the bundle, Richard envisioned his wife wearing the green silk dress. He then imagined that he could hear her agonized screams for mercy as her flesh seared on the bone. He smiled, the vision filling him with a
deep sense of calm purpose.
Soon, Jessica. Very soon.
Chapter 26
“There it is,” Jessica murmured as she reached for the canister in the back of the kitchen cupboard. “Enriched white flour,” she read aloud from the label. “All right. On with the show.”
Never having made biscuits from scratch, she was using a recipe she’d found in an old cookbook. While fairly adept in the kitchen, baking wasn’t her forte. To date, she had yet to bake a cake that hadn’t collapsed in the middle. Hopefully, she’d fare better with buttermilk biscuits.
As she measured and stirred, Jessica reflected on the earlier turning point with Gideon. They’d weathered a tough storm. But together they’d gotten through it. To her mind, there could be no greater testament to their love. And she did love Gideon. Not only was he was her lover, he was also her companion, her partner, and her lifetime mate. Just thinking about the two of them growing old together put a smile on her face. After the tragedy that had befallen them in the nineteenth century, they certainly deserved a little happily ever after.
Removing the large ball of dough from the mixing bowl, Jessica placed it onto the floured countertop and rolled it out. She didn’t have a biscuit cutter so she used an empty tin can to cut a dozen biscuits, which she arranged on a baking sheet before popping them in the oven. If all went according to plan, in a few minutes’ time, twelve flaky biscuits would be coming out of that same oven door. Along with the biscuits, she was serving a chicken and veggie stir-fry, watercress salad, and homemade, jasmine-coconut ice cream for dessert. Fusion cuisine, her specialty.
As she hummed along to Adele’s “Set Fire to the Rain,” Jessica carried china plates, cloth napkins, and flatware to the dining room and set the table. Because she wanted everything picture perfect for what might well prove the most important dinner of her life, she lit the two candles that she’d earlier set in crystal holders. Sometime during the meal, she planned to tell Gideon that she was pregnant with his child. Special occasion, indeed.
Our Time Is Now Page 24