“I didn’t.”
His brow furrowed. “How could you not?”
The answer to that one was pretty easy. “You’ve never said it. I never said it.” Her heart was pounding, and this time it wasn’t because of fear.
“Words aren’t everything.”
Winnie laughed. “For you? Are you kidding me? You make your living with words.”
He joined in her laughter. “That, my sweet woman, is quite true. I suppose I need to remember to say what’s in my heart and not just assume you know.”
Putting her head on his shoulder, she took a moment to absorb this new twist. “It makes me happy that you feel the same way I do. I was worried.”
“What in the world is there for you to worry about? Why would you do that?”
“A better question is, why wouldn’t I? You could have anyone. You’re smart and successful, and that accent of yours is sexy as all get-out. I’m chunky, I have a career that sucks up a million hours, and I’m not even a tenth as interesting as you are. I always think you’ll see the real me and take off running.”
He pushed her out at arm’s length and stared at her. “Are you serious? Winifred Marie, you are a thrilling ball of dynamite. You’re beautiful, successful, funny, and always game for any of my crazy ideas. I couldn’t have found a better woman if I’d searched the whole world, which, if you think about it, I kinda did. I think I knew ten minutes after I met you that you were the one granny always told me I’d find if I just kept my eyes open.”
Maybe she could love him even more. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”
“It’s because I tell you the truth, and when we get home—and we will get home—I’m going to make good on my words.”
“And how exactly are you going to do that?” Honestly, she didn’t know how he could improve on anything he’d just said.
His smile glowed in the firelight as he pulled her even closer. “I’m going to take you home to meet my mum, and then I’m going to marry you.”
Chapter Sixteen
Aquene’s faith in Molly had not been displaced. She was everything her visions had promised and more. But those visions had not shown her how beautiful Molly was, both in body and spirit, and how her simple touch could make Aquene’s heart race.
She should not be shocked, for her lessons had taught her that all was revealed in its own way and in its own time. She had learned of the coming of their savior, and here she was. Her lessons had also taught her that, though much was revealed to her, not everything was to be shown. She had to discover some things without aid. That was the very thing happening as they sat beneath the shelter listening to the sounds of the storm-filled night, and the lesson was all the sweeter for it.
Molly’s words had trailed off, and warmth had swirled around them as though they were sitting out in a summer night rather than in a harsh storm. She had felt Molly’s magic in her soul, and the peace that came with it was unlike anything Aquene had experienced before. This the visions definitely had not showed her. The surprise was exciting, the discovery thrilling.
Even more amazing was her absolute belief in Molly’s prayer. It would protect them. She could feel it, and it filled her with peace. The touch of Molly’s hand against hers made it even more so. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the rock. It was hard, though not uncomfortable. She had slept on far worse and without the comfort of the hand she still held. The night could go on forever, if it felt like this. Yes, she was certain this was exactly how Alumpum felt about her warrior. No wonder she was always trying to find a life mate for Aquene.
“We will be safe here,” she said.
Molly squeezed her hand gently. “I feel it too. Hannah’s magic is much like that of my heritage. I read it in her words and felt its power as I used it just now. She might not have written it for you and me, but darned if it didn’t work for us just the same. It would have been nice to meet her. I have a feeling I would have liked her.”
“She was a good woman. She was my friend.” It was true. She missed Hannah.
“I’m glad the spell worked.”
Aquene knew that it did. “He will not touch us this night.”
“I agree. We’re in good shape for a while. Aquene? Who is this man you keep talking about? Is it the same one Hannah writes of in her grimoire? Who is he?”
Aquene had to pause and consider Molly’s question. While she did not know his face, she had felt his presence for some time. The blackness that surrounded her each time she thought of him scared her. Whether it was same man who had come for Hannah was unknown to her.
“I do not know the answer to your question. It is possible, but I am not certain if it is likely. She ran from someone who came from far beyond the sunset. The one I fear is close. They might be the same man. They might not.”
“Could be the same creep. Maybe he simply followed her out here, and you picked him up on your radar.”
“Radar?”
Molly laughed lightly, and Aquene liked the sound. It was like the bells she had heard in the house of worship she had attended with the newcomers. “Once again, something from my time. It means that someone has become known to you.”
“Ah.” This she understood. A man was out there, one who carried darkness in his heart, and she had been feeling his presence for some time now. He was, as she said, known to her.
“I’m kind of leaning toward it being the same guy.”
“Why is it you believe he is the one?” Aquene did not carry the same conviction in her soul, even as she could hear it in Molly’s words.
“I don’t know. Have you ever felt something to be true and yet not had anything to base your belief on? You just know it deep down to be a truth?”
Aquene did not have to think long to be able to answer either of Molly’s questions. What had come to her as they sat beneath their shelter, side by side, was that she had two new truths in her life on this night. Molly was the one the visions foretold to be the savior of her people. And she loved the woman whose shoulder touched her and whose hand she held in hers.
She did not hesitate as she answered Molly. “Yes.”
* * *
Matthew jumped to his feet and made a complete circle. His heart was pounding and his pulse racing. She was close. Oh, by God, she was close. He smiled and tipped his head to the sky.
Raindrops hit his face, and above him the sky was dark, the stars hidden by the clouds that brought the storm. It did not matter, and the blackness did not dampen his delight. How many signs did he need to prove to not just himself but everyone around him that he walked a divine path? Except he was alone at the moment, with no one nearby to share the proof of his glory. It was a shame. Everyone should know and appreciate the righteousness of his quest, to bow to him in respect.
“But you know, do you not, my God,” he said to the dark sky. “You blessed me with greatness, and I have taken it to even higher glories.”
Earlier he had believed the night was for resting. Now he changed his mind. This sign told him the hunt was on, night or day. He moved back to beneath the overhang of rocks, where he’d spread out his bedroll. The driest place he could find when he stopped for the night, it was still a bit damp as rain dripped from the lip of the rocks to soak into his blanket, but he rolled it up anyway and tied it to his saddle. When the sun came back out, he would dry it properly.
After mounting his horse, he adjusted his hat and stared out where all blended together into impenetrable gloom. The draw he felt told him to head west. In the black of the night, it was difficult to gauge direction. He was not worried. Just as God had given him this sign, so too would his heavenly father show him the way to go. He urged his horse forward, happy to be on the hunt.
They had only gone a short distance when his horse reared up and then stepped backward. A snake perhaps? He peered down and saw nothing so he urged him forward. He would not move. No matter what he tried, it refused to continue in the direction he pushed him. He dismou
nted, took the reins in his hand, and walked forward. Still nothing. The horse neighed, shook his massive head, and backed up, dragging Matthew, still holding the reins, with him.
“You stupid animal,” he bit out. “We must go this way.” His horse acted as though Matthew was asking him to step into a giant fire. He stared ahead, trying to determine what was spooking the usually compliant animal, but could see nothing. He could hear nothing.
His continued efforts to get the horse to move failed. He was stuck for the night, for he could not do this on foot. He was too far out into the wilds of this land and too far away from any settlement to walk. He must have this horse for transport.
When he tried one last time to get him to venture into the darkness, the horse once more refused to budge. His anger rose and he wished for a whip. If the animal would not move willingly, he would go at the end of a whip. Unfortunately, he did not carry one with him.
Then a chilling thought flashed through his mind, and as it did, the truth of it flooded his body. It wasn’t the horse’s fault. No, the horse was innocent, his resistance to move forward beyond his control.
“You,” he snapped to the sky. “You demon witch.” She had done this. She had bewitched his horse. “Enjoy your fleeting power this night. It will be your final one.” His blood ran cold, his determination to put an end to the witch’s black magic stronger than ever.
He snatched the bedroll back off his saddle and returned to his shelter beneath the rock overhang. She had stopped him this night, but it would be the last time she would ever cast an evil spell. On the morrow, she would die at his hand.
Chapter Seventeen
Aquene’s answer didn’t surprise Molly. She’d known the truth of her words the moment they’d passed her lips. Something was happening here that went far beyond the very real time-traveling event that had brought three people from the twenty-first century to this wilderness landscape along the Columbia River. How amazing that it looked so familiar to her in many ways yet foreign at the same time. She was accustomed to the sight of the massive river as it flowed strong and beautiful between Washington and Oregon. But the river she had followed many times was bordered on each shore by highways, railroad tracks, small towns, dams, and even a concrete replica of Stonehenge. She particularly liked the replica, and every time she drove to Portland she smiled when she reached the familiar sight that was commissioned in the early twentieth century by wealthy businessman Sam Hill.
None of the familiar sights existed in this time and place. As far as she could see stretched wilderness, unspoiled nature, and riverbanks free of rail lines. If they were to travel west, the hillside where the replica had stood for nearly a hundred years would be bare. This massive expanse of unspoiled nature humbled her. The only thing that hinted at the impending encroachment of settlers was the primitive—very primitive—road she could see, if she looked closely, near what would one day be the Oregon side of the river. To see a faint trail instead of a highway she had so many times traveled on at sixty-five miles an hour in her car was an experience sure to stay with her the rest of her life.
It gave her a whole new perspective on what the native peoples of America had been through. Once she’d been in Fort Smith, Arkansas, standing along a portion of the Trail of Tears. Her heart ached as she’d thought about what had happened on that beautiful stretch of nature. But that was nothing compared to what she felt as she sat next to a woman she knew would soon lose everything she held dear. It wasn’t right. Not now, and not in Molly’s time. The helplessness that consumed her was nearly crippling.
“What makes you sad?”
Aquene’s voice came through the darkness, a whisper on the night air. That she could sense Molly’s distress amazed her. Then again, this was a woman who not only wasn’t surprised to see three time travelers, but who also claimed to be expecting them. The fact that she could sense Molly’s deep-felt emotion really shouldn’t be much of a shock. In a sense, Aquene was a psychic who had the ability to see the future, though she suspected Aquene would argue she was not psychic but a vessel chosen by the Great Spirit. She could be right.
At the same time, Molly hesitated to reveal any of her thoughts. How could she explain that not just an individual, but entire native cultures across the land, would be pushed to near extinction? She couldn’t, so instead, she opted for the easy and the vague. “Changes are coming to your life and that of your people.”
“Yes.”
Aquene’s quick and simple answer surprised her. “I don’t think you understand. It’s going to be terrible. Wars. Death. Loss.”
She could feel Aquene’s nod. “I understand. It is why you are here.”
Oh, fuck, no, she wanted to say. For some reason Aquene mistakenly believed she was Christ incarnate. That was so far from the truth it was ridiculous. She was a damned baker, and bakers didn’t save the world. “I can’t stop any of it.” That was the cold truth. It didn’t matter what any of them did while they were here. It didn’t matter that she came from a family filled with magic. Even with all the theories floating around about the dangers of time travel changing the course of history, Molly understood another simple truth: the waves of people coming would not be stopped. Wars. Death. Loss.
Aquene pulled Molly’s hand to her chest. “Do not worry. You will be shown the way when it is time. You have power in your spirit, and it is exactly what my people need. It will all be as it should.”
She made it sound so simple, and it was anything but. “I’m not very powerful, and I’m certain you’re mistaken about my coming to save the world.”
“The Great Spirit does not make mistakes. You are the chosen one, and you will bring salvation. Of this, I am certain.”
She wanted to argue more with her and try to make Aquene see the reality. She couldn’t. For some unexplained reason, she wanted to be the person Aquene believed she was. But how? Aquene had no way of understanding the massive subjugation of not just her people, but all the native cultures in this land, and Molly could do nothing to stop it. Nobody could. So it was impossible to wrap her head around how she was to save her people.
Then again, her family had always told her that one day she’d understand her place in the universe and that her strengths would show themselves. Time travel was an impossibility, wasn’t it? Yet here she was. Here they all were. So, maybe, just maybe, this was that day.
* * *
“What?” The single word came out more like a squeak, but Winnie didn’t care if she sounded like an injured mouse. She was still trying to grasp what Angus had just declared as if it were the most ordinary comment in the world.
His laughter was full and rich. Pulling her close he kissed her. “I said, I’m going to marry you.”
“Why?” Okay, now that did sound stupid, but this was pretty surreal. Here they were in a rustic cabin in the middle of nowhere in the middle of a time that didn’t belong to them, and he was talking about taking her to Ireland to meet his mother. Talking about getting married. Sure, she’d been dreaming about it and hoped someday down the road it might actually happen. She simply hadn’t seen any of it coming down quite like this.
He tilted his head and studied her face in the firelight. “It’s pretty obvious to me.”
“Humor me.”
“All right, humor you, I shall. I want to marry you first and foremost because I love you. My granny always told me that one day I’d meet a woman who would make me want to drop my mates so I could be with her, whose smile I would think about when we weren’t together, and who could cook a meal that warmed me for days. She was right, you know. I did meet that woman.”
Winnie wanted to believe him. God, how she wanted to believe him, but self-doubt had been her companion for so long that she had trouble shaking it now even in this heart-stopping, beautiful moment. “That doesn’t sound like me.”
This time his laughter filled the room. “Of course it does. Trust me. Now shut up, kiss me, and tell me you’ll marry me.”
Warm
th flowed through her, and Winnie brought her hand up to cup Angus’s cheek. “You know what, you’re right. I don’t know why I’m fighting this. I love you. I think I’ve loved you from the first time I saw you. Of course I’ll marry you, and I can’t wait to meet your mother.”
Angus kissed her. It wasn’t a passion-filled kiss but gentle and sweet and full of promise. “Mum is going to love you.”
“You think she will?” Insecurity was her fallback.
“Yes, I do, especially if you make her dinner. Once she finds out what a wicked chef you are, she’ll convince you to stay in Ireland and move in with her.”
Winnie thought about that possibility. “I could probably learn some new things across the pond.” She’d done all her training in the U.S., and it would be exciting to expand her skills in Europe. Moving in with his mother might not be so bad. “Your mother and I could cook together.”
Angus grimaced. “Not to bad-mouth my mum, but trust me, you don’t want to follow her lead. If there’s any cooking to be done, I suggest you do it.”
She laughed and hugged him. “It’s a deal. Oh, Angus, I do love you.”
His expression turned serious. “And I you. Now, let’s try to get some sleep. As soon as it gets light, we’ve got to find Molly, and then we’ll all figure out how to get home. Somewhere in this place,” his gaze traveled around the darkened room, “is the key to finding our way back. I know it, and we’re going to find it.”
She followed his gaze and saw nothing different from when they first arrived. Well, nothing different save the mess the angry man had made when he tipped over the furniture. “God, I hope you’re right.”
Chapter Eighteen
If only Aquene could do more to assure Molly that all was as it should be. True, they were in danger. It was Aquene’s way of life. The waters that helped give them life could also take it away quickly. The rocks that provided shelter could also hide dangerous creatures that struck without warning. Strangers could prove to be deadly as often as they could come in friendship.
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