Catch a Dream

by Cynthia Breeding

  She caught the glint in his eye. “I can’t do much about the first two right now,” she said as she slid her hand under his tee shirt and across his tight belly, “but about the third thing—“

  He cut off the sentence, claiming her mouth with his. The only galaxy he was taking her to was his own.

  • ♥ •

  Full autumn arrived with all the fury a blue norther could muster. Brooke shivered as she took off her coat and handed it to Miguel. “Nothing like cold weather to put me in the mood for Halloween,” she said.

  “Come on in,” Elizabeth said. “I’ve got all the stuff laid out on the coffee table.” They were planning a costume party, since Halloween fell on a weekend this year. “It’s too bad we can’t celebrate at school,” Elizabeth grumbled as they picked out decorations.

  “Why can’t you?” Miguel asked as he joined them on the sofa.

  Brooke rolled her eyes. “It’s no longer politically correct. A few religious zealots think it’s devil worship. If they only knew the real meaning.” She sighed. “It really spoils it for those of us who would like to commemorate the more medieval tradition of Samhain.”

  “Remember I told you that Brooke likes anything medieval,” Elizabeth said to Miguel with a wry smile.

  He inclined his head. “I would have laughed at that once. Since I’ve traveled though time myself and actually spoken with Lancelot and the queen of ancient Britain, I believe anything’s possible.”

  “Ah, to go back to those times,” Brooke said. “Did I tell you I’m coming to the party as Gwenevere?”

  “You didn’t,” Elizabeth said, not that it surprised her.

  “Who are you going to be?” Brooke asked.

  “An Indian maid.” It had been Miguel’s idea that she order a fringed tunic and skirt in white leather, along with white moccasins. “I need to find that dream catcher my students bought me last year for Christmas. It’d make a good accessory.”

  Brooke nodded. “What about you, Miguel?”

  He grinned. “I’m going as a Spanish empresario. Appropriate, no?”

  She laughed, and he excused himself to finish some research about the twentieth century on the web. After he’d gone, Brook sighed. “You certainly are lucky, Liz, that you’ve found him. Not once, but twice.”

  “I know,” Elizabeth said and lowered her voice. “I think I’m pregnant. I haven’t told Miguel yet.”

  “Why on earth not?” Brooke asked in surprise.

  “I want to be sure. He misses Raul so much that this would be too much of a disappointment for him if I were just late.” If Brooke knew just how often they made love, she’d be even more envious.

  Brooke was quiet as they finished their planning and Elizabeth knew she was thinking that she had no steady relationship. For a moment she felt guilty. Marriage was so wonderful for her. Her thoughts were confirmed when Brooke got ready to leave.

  “Do you think I’ll ever find my knight in shining armor?” she asked softly.

  • ♥ •

  Things were hectic at school the next week or two and Elizabeth tried not to think too much about being pregnant. She had missed her second period. The home pregnancy test had been positive, and she’d scheduled an appointment with her gynecologist, but she was afraid she’d hex the possibility if she dwelled on it too much. By the time of the party, she’d know.

  Her costume arrived a day before Halloween. Elizabeth had already begun to think of an emergency substitute, so she breathed a sigh of relief.

  A hint of frost was in the air the night of the party, but it only made the stars shine like brilliant diamonds against a black velvet sky. The moon rose full and orange just after sunset.

  “A Comanchería moon,” Miguel said, looking out from their bedroom window.

  Elizabeth padded over to him in her soft moccasins. “Why is it called that? I’ve always wondered.”

  He put an arm around her, but continued to gaze out the window as he answered. “Because the Comanche only raid when the moon is full; they believe it will light the darkness for the spirits of their warriors who are killed.”

  “The shaman wanted to sacrifice me on that night,” Elizabeth said softly.

  Miguel squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t think about that.”

  “I guess people have always had superstitions about the full moon,” she said and then deliberately put some brightness into her voice. “Perhaps it will light the way for Brooke’s faeries and spirits, as well.”

  Miguel nodded and turned to her. His eyes widened.

  “What?” Elizabeth asked and smoothed the soft leather of the skirt.

  “It’s just that—” He paused, and then said softly, “I had no idea you would look so much like her.”

  “Her?” Elizabeth asked and lifted an eyebrow. “Is there something you haven’t been telling me?”

  “No.” He grinned. “Where would I find the stamina for another woman anyway? With your hair braided, you just look so much like the maid in the vision—the one I told you about when I was wounded, and whom I thought I saw again just before I arrived here. I wonder…” He let his voice trail off.

  Elizabeth turned back to the mirror. She did look like the woman she too had seen in the sweat lodge—the one Swift Hawk called Dream Catcher. She had always thought that was only an illusion. “Do you think she’s real? That she had something to do with our time travel?” Elizabeth had always felt that somehow the fetish she’d put around her wrist that night had done it, although it didn’t explain how she’d returned.

  “I don’t know,” Miguel said softly just as the doorbell rang with the first of the guests. “Let’s think about it.”

  Elizabeth nodded and opened a drawer to pull out the old dream catcher. “Look what I found. It’ll make a good conversation piece, don’t you think?” She attached it to the slender leather belt that was bound around her tunic. “Shall we go?”

  • ♥ •

  The party was a huge success. Someone came dressed as a Knight Templar, which appealed to Brooke almost as much as King Arthur would have. Miguel shook his head in amusement when Elizabeth mentioned it.

  “A little different time period, but the Templars were certainly no saintly monks.”

  “I know,” Elizabeth answered. “Remember, my mother is in southern France researching. If she even uncovered a hint of treasure—“

  “Ah, the Code again,” Miguel answered, “but forget that for now; tonight is for fun. Let’s dance.”

  And they did. Elizabeth’s moccasins were so comfortable her feet weren’t even sore after all the guests had gone. Back in their bedroom, she slipped them off as Miguel removed his clothes and sank down on the bed. He watched with interest as she removed her tunic and tugged at the skirt until it slid down.

  “Did you order your costume too small?” he asked and added quickly, “not that you’re fat, my love.”

  The humor of the situation struck her, and she tried hard not to laugh. Elizabeth crawled on top of him and leaned down for a kiss. He lingered with it, teasing her with his tongue, his hands brushing lightly over her breast.

  “I’m going to get a lot fatter, I think.”

  He paused and held her slightly away. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She was suddenly shy. “I’m…I’m going to have your baby.”

  Miguel stared at her. “You’re sure?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “The doctor called this afternoon. I know Raul can’t be replaced, but—”

  She never got to finish. Miguel crushed her to him and rolled over, pinning her beneath him.

  “A baby,” he breathed, between showering kisses on face and ears and throat. “No…Raul—I know. I hope one day…never mind.” He rested his hand gently on her stomach, slowly stroking it. “I’m going to have to be extra careful with you.”

  “We’ve got a few months until then,” Elizabeth said mischievously as she brought his hand to her breast again. “For tonight, I want you to make wild, passionate l
ove to me.”

  Miguel groaned low in his throat and slanted his lips across hers, his tongue delving into her mouth, tasting, teasing, titillating. He trailed open-mouthed, wet kisses along her neck and over her shoulders and to her breasts. He laved her nipples, his tongue circling one before suckling lightly on the other.

  Elizabeth whimpered and pressed his head closer, needing him. Miguel sucked harder, taking half of her breast in his mouth then nipping at the hard bud with lip-covered teeth. She strained toward him, tips tingly. He cupped her breasts together, kissing the cleavage, sliding his wet tongue between them and under them, nibbling at the soft sides of her breasts before consuming one of them again with his mouth. All sensation centered in her breasts, hot and heavy and swollen.

  And then, the sensation sank lower as Miguel licked and kissed and nipped his way across her torso and lower belly, leaving tiny pricks of flame on her heated skin. He lifted her legs over his shoulders and spread her wet, silken folds open with his fingers. The feeling of exposure sent wild pulsations to her center. Yet he teased her, kissing her inner thigh softly from the knee toward the juncture of her thighs where there was an aching need to be satisfied. But his lips just brushed against the soft hair there, tickling her and sending her desire to new heights, as his tongue lightly ran up her other thigh and then down and across again, tongue just grazing the swollen lips of her womanhood.

  Had the man no sense of easing her torture? She wanted him, hard and deep. Elizabeth moaned and arched her hips.

  “Something wrong, Red?”

  She opened her eyes to find him grinning at her. How could he be so rational at a time like this? He shouldn’t be. She wished she could see his erection, for that would tell the true tale, but he had his body angled so that she couldn’t.

  He flicked his thumb over her inflamed nub and she mewled, muscles constricting deep within her.

  “I want you,” she said with clenched teeth.

  “Like this?” he asked as he slowly licked the length of her, the tip of his tongue just touching her throbbing center.

  Elizabeth began panting. If he would just suck! Her climax was a millisecond away. Her legs began to tremble involuntarily. “Please…no…more…teasing…”

  Miguel reached up to gently pinch her nipples as he mashed his lips against her slick wetness, his tongue pulverizing the taut, jutting little tip that for the moment was the center of her universe. With a wild cry, Elizabeth felt her entire body clench, one gigantic spasm rolling over her and subsiding into multi mini-tremors.

  She gasped for air and then he was inside her, plunging deep, ramming himself home, savagely claiming her body with his. Elizabeth arched her hips upward, matching his fierce rhythm, taking him completely. The feral growls that emanated from him unleashed her own primitive instincts and with a frenzied scream, her body shuddered uncontrollably, just as Miguel ground into her one final time and she felt the hot release of his seed deep within.

  For moments, they lay entwined, their bodies sleek with sweat, damp hair matted, breathing in great gulps of air. Finally, Miguel nuzzled her neck.

  Elizabeth curled into his shoulder. “Maybe we’ll have twins after this.”

  “All right by me. Would you like to try for triplets?”

  She gave a fake groan. “I probably won’t be able to walk for a day as it is.” She eyed the dream catcher where she had tossed on the bedside table and picked it up. “We really should hang this for good luck.”

  Miguel gave her a quick kiss and reached over her to take it. A strange expression crossed his face and he sat up thoughtfully. “Elizabeth, what if the dream catcher is really the answer?”

  Elizabeth frowned and propped herself against the headboard. “Explain.”

  “Well, what if the dream catcher is the portal through Time? And the Indian maid in the vision—what if she is the one that made it happen?”

  “Go on.”

  “You hung this the night before you arrived in my barn,” he said. “The black one from the shaman had a curse on it to send you back to your own century. When Marie Laveau removed the curse, I remember holding it and praying on my knees. And I thought I saw the Indian maid. You thought you’d seen her, too, that first time.” He turned to her, his dark eyes glinting with excitement. What if we hold this together and call on her? Do you think she could transfer us back?” He stopped suddenly. “Or, is that not…what you want? You have many conveniences today that I couldn’t offer you, like modern hospitals and medicine when the baby arrives. But my son—he needs me, too.”

  “Birthing is a natural process, and Olga will be there to help.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him. “I’d give all this up in a minute to be back on the ranch, to be reunited with Raul. He’s very dear to me, too, you know.”

  He beamed at her and returned her kiss soundly. “Then we’d better get dressed.”

  Elizabeth nodded and climbed out of bed and dressed quickly. “I’m going to write a note to Brooke first. If this works, I want her to know I won’t be coming back.”

  Her fingers trembled as she composed the note:

  Dearest Brooke. We think we’ve found the method through which we can traverse Time. It’s in the dream catcher, which must be some sort of totem used by its namesake, the spirit the Indians call Dream Catcher. She may go by other names as well, for she is said to have come, in ancient times.”

  Anyway, if you don’t hear from me and find this letter, know that I am gone. Explain as much as you can to my mother and take whatever of my things that you want.

  I want my child to know his brother.

  I will love you always, my friend, but I know that I belong in a different time.

  Always, Elizabeth

  She folded the note and placed it in an envelope on the dresser, then quickly wrote a second note for her mother. Taking a deep breath, she turned to Miguel.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  She nodded and lay down on the bed beside him, snuggling into the crook of his arm. Together, they held the dream catcher.

  “Do you think it’ll work, Miguel?” Elizabeth clung to him. “I don’t want us separated again. I couldn’t bear that.”

  He kissed the top of her head and tucked her closer. “Shhh. Sleep now. Just hold on to the dream catcher.”

  She closed her eyes. “Okay, cowboy. Let’s go back to where the West began.”

  Softly, so she nearly missed it, he answered, “Whatever century we wake up in, know that I will always love you.”

  EPILOGUE

  Arlington, Texas

  Summer, 1876

  Elizabeth sat on the wooden, covered porch that Miguel had added to the ranch house, sipping lemonade in the late afternoon and watching their grandchildren play. Maria was six and quite bossy toward four-year-old Antonio. Elizabeth knew she should intervene and make them play nicely, but Miguel always said that as mischievous as Raul had been, he deserved to handle their discipline. Trouble was, he was usually away, supervising the long cattle drives that had sprung up with the abundance of longhorns roaming the ranges after the Civil War.

  She leaned back and let her mind drift. So much had passed since Dream Catcher had returned them to this century. Cactus Flower replaced the schoolmarm. Swift Hawk had eventually married the daughter of Feathertail, but only after being wounded in the last raid that Tate-Johnson led in 1860. Olga and Olaf were still healthy, refusing to let age stop them. When Miguel had suggested Olaf hand over the foreman job and take time to enjoy life, the old man had simply spit and said he hadn’t been born in the woods to be scared by an owl.

  This was the year gold had been discovered in the Black Hills. She’d read in an old newspaper that the mining town of Deadwood stirred up almost as much trouble as the California gold rush had done. In a way, the Dakota impact was greater than Sutter’s Mill discovery which caused the ‘49ers to settle California. This find had led to the great Indian Plains battles. She sighed, wishing they could change history. Gener
al Custer would die tomorrow at the Battle of Little Big Horn.

  The children’s mother called them into the house just as Miguel joined Elizabeth on the porch swing. She offered him her glass and he took a sip. “Were there any letters from Beth or Joaquin?” Their daughter was attending a boarding school in the East, and their son worked for Governor Coke in Austin as an apprentice lawyer.

  Joaquin had taken the old French papers with him that might hold a code for the Templar treasure, too. Elizabeth thought how ironic it would be if that mystery were solved long before her mother began researching her project.

  Miguel shook his head. “No, but there’s other news. Santa Anna died in Mexico City a few days ago.”

  “I can’t say I’m sorry,” Elizabeth answered. “He cut a lot of lives short at the Alamo. Maybe if Travis or Bowie or Crockett had lived, Texas wouldn’t have joined the Confederacy.”

  “I doubt they could have changed anyone’s minds. Tate-Johnson participated in the Secession Convention and wasn’t able to do any good.”

  “And then what did he turn around and do? Led the 14th Texas Cavalry Regiment and took you with him.”

  Miguel put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. “It’s in the past. We’ve survived Reconstruction, the railroad is here, and business is booming.” He paused. “I wonder what Bell would say if I told him that his telephone invention would wind up as cell phones.” Miguel shook his head and then grinned. “Now, if someone could just invent the microwave a bit earlier—“

  Elizabeth was not about to be side-tracked or mollified. “You were wounded in the war.”

  He leaned over to nibble her ear. “That was blockade running. Someone had to do it, and I had sources in both Spain and France.”

  “Still,” she said, “you almost lost your leg on that ship.”

  “Shhh,” he answered and nuzzled her throat. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I can think of more interesting things for us to do.”

  “In the middle of the afternoon?”