10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set

by P. L. Parker, Beth Trissel, L. L. Muir, Skhye Moncrief, Sky Purington, Nancy Lee Badger, Caroline Clemmons, Bess McBride, Donna Michaels

  Either way, she’d met her match. Come morning, she’d think Brendan was one of Hell’s demons for sure if he didn’t get some answers from her.

  ***

  The next morning when Deirdre left the guestroom, she heard Blossom humming in the kitchen. The table was set for four with cheerful yellow napkins and glasses of orange liquid. Blossom looked up from setting the table and put down the dishes.

  She rushed to hug Deirdre. “Dear, we were so worried about you. Sit right here and brunch will be ready in a few minutes. We’ve been holding it until you woke up.” Blossom laughed. “It’s almost late enough to be lunch.” She handed Deirdre a glass. “Have some orange juice while we wait.”

  “Thank you.” Deirdre sipped the drink. “This is very good.” She wondered what she could say. Blossom and Dave probably hadn’t believed her and she was certain Brendan wouldn’t when he found out. She wasn’t so sure she believed it herself, and she dreaded explaining to him.

  “You must feel confused. I hope you don’t mind, but Dave and I told Brendan all that’s happened to you.”

  Deirdre sighed with relief. Brendan knew her story and wasn’t casting her out of the house. Yet. At least, he and Blossom and the doctor knew most of it, but she hadn’t mentioned the visions and didn’t intend to. When others knew about them, that knowledge always created problems.

  Thank heavens she hadn’t told Brendan how she’d known about his friend. She hadn’t meant to reveal the description of her vision, for she didn’t understand what it meant. But Brendan’s sadness had touched her heart and the words had slipped out. Mayhap she could avoid furnishing more information.

  “Is it only you and your son who live in this great house?

  Blossom smiled. “It’s only me, though Brendan has a room here for the rare occasions he stays over. He has a house near his work. You remember I told you about Radford Crossing where he’s a policeman?”

  Brendan and the kind doctor—he’d insisted she call him Dave—came in. Brendan leaned against the doorframe and watched.

  Dave sat beside her. “How’s the patient this morning? Did you sleep well?”

  She nodded. “I didn’t think I could, but whatever you gave me worked magic.” Magic? Dave must think her daft, for he’d explained away all the things she’d thought were due to enchantment. This morning she’d wanted to bury her head back on the pillow, but cowering wasn’t her way. “Sure and it’s that sorry I am I wailed like a baby last night.”

  Dave smiled at her. “It was upsetting news. Anyone would have cried in your place.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t usually cry, for it helps nothing, does it?” But when had anyone else traveled through time as she had? Apparently had. At first, she had thought first there must be some sensible explanation but Dave had talked with her until she believed him.

  Blossom refilled Deirdre’s glass then set a pot of tea on the table. Brendan poured himself coffee, and filled Dave’s cup. Everyone took a seat. Deirdre recognized jam, cinnamon buns, eggs and ham, but didn’t know what the other things were.

  After they’d all been served, Blossom patted Deirdre’s hand. “I know you understand many herbs, dear, and that’s wonderful. Tell me about the rest of your life before you arrived here.”

  Deirdre looked at Brendan. He watched her, looking as if he’d already made up his mind not to believe a word she said. Such a handsome man, but his disposition didn’t match his good looks.

  Blossom frowned at him. “Son, don’t scowl so. You’ll curdle the milk.”

  Deirdre couldn’t keep from smiling. Didn’t it sound like something Ma would say? “I-I lived in a little place called Ballymish, i-in Ireland. Only a few dozen families live there. Mostly rocks are all that grow. Ma and me treated people’s ailments and kept a wee garden of vegetables and the most common of the herbs we used.”

  She took a cautious bite of a pale green chunk. It tasted sweet and fresh as morning dew. She licked her lips and reached for another bite.

  Brendan’s mouth parted and he stared at her. Then he swallowed hard and shook his head. “How”—he stopped to clear his throat—“did you learn to use herbs?”

  “From Gran, and she learned from her ma, and so on for as far back as we know.” She took another helping of the green food. “This is very good. What is it?”

  “It’s honeydew melon.” Brendan pointed with his fork. “The orange is cantaloupe and the red is watermelon.” Then, he put down his fork, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair. “What happened to the men in your family?”

  “Gran’s husband died in the great ’98 Rebellion, just a few months before Ma was born, but he’d worked at the marble quarry before the fighting started. Da’s parents took sick and died afore he met Ma. Me da worked on the marble as well, but he was killed when I was but ten.”

  Blossom laid her hand on Deirdre’s. “You poor dear. Brendan’s father died when he was ten, so you have something in common.”

  “Mom?” He looked back at Deirdre. “Go on with your story. How was your father killed?”

  “Um, this watermelon is wonderful, but it tastes nothing like water, does it?” Deirdre swallowed another bite and laid her fork aside. “Eogan planned it. He was mad because Da had been raised up, um, given a higher position, at the quarry. Eogan thought it should have gone to him because he’d worked there longer than Da.”

  It made her angry to think of it, and she almost snorted in disgust. “Eogan was a lout and a great slacker. He carried a grudge because, thank the saints, Ma had chosen to marry Da instead of him. He never forgave either of them, though he married his Mauvereen soon after.”

  “You think your father was murdered?” Dave looked shocked, but shoveled another bite of eggs into his mouth.

  “No one could prove it, but we knew all the same that Eogan caused the accident. It was his son, Eogan the younger, turned the village against me. He was just as evil as his da, mayhap moreso, and led the mob that chased me. He threw the rock that landed in the boat. He almost caught me afore I jumped.” Deirdre tried a bit of the pale orange thing, she couldn’t remember the name, and it was as good as the green and red.

  “What about your mother? You said she’s been dead only a week.” Blossom looked embarrassed. “Or so it seems to you. Did someone kill her?”

  Deirdre forgot the new foods and fought to deal with what had happened. “Ma had left me to care for those in the village who needed help. She stayed with the Joyce family because they had a terrible influenza. The stars were wrong and Ma caught it. The others recovered. Ma didn’t.”

  Dave paused between bites. “People used to think that the influenza spread by the confluence of the stars. Deirdre, now we know it’s caused by viral germs.” He shook his head. “Never mind, you don’t need to know all that now.”

  Tears burned Deirdre’s eyes and closed her throat. She swallowed against the sobs that threatened. Her dear mother, so kind to everyone, and now Deirdre couldn’t even see after Ma’s grave.

  But if she’d stayed, she would surely be lying next to Ma now. And there’d be no one caring a whit about either burial site, and probably not even a stone to mark hers. She brushed a traitorous tear from her cheek.

  “Hadn’t you other relatives who could have helped you?” Brendan leaned forward and handed her a fine snowy handkerchief, looking intent on hearing her answer.

  She dabbed at her cheek, embarrassed she’d been caught weepy. “Da’s two cousins live in Galway City, but I’ve not seen them since I was a wee thing. That’s where I was headed when the villagers chased me.”

  Memory of her fear and race for her life sent prickles along her skin. No matter how she fared in this place, she was glad to be away from the mob who’d threatened her. She couldn’t suppress the shudder the memory produced.

  “Enough of this.” Blossom laid down her fork. “It’s too lovely a day for sadness. What shall we do for fun?”

  Dave smiled at Blossom. Deirdre liked the look of
the two of them together. Clearly, anything Blossom wanted was Dave’s goal.

  Dave said, “I’m still on call, but I have my pager. The new movie at the mall sounds good.”

  “Let me show Deirdre a few more things, then we can go into town for a movie and dinner.”

  “I’ll read the paper while I wait.” Dave headed for the living room.

  Blossom picked up some plates and carried them to the sink. “Come, dear, and I’ll show you how some of the appliances work.”

  Blossom turned on the water and scraped leftover food from the plates into a hole in the middle of three sinks.

  Deirdre peeked into the hole, wondering if the waste dropped to a bucket below. “Why are you poking all the scraps in there?”

  “This is a disposal.” Blossom flipped a switch and a grinding noise sounded as if it were chewing bones. She switched it off. “Never put your hand in it while the switch is on, or you’ll cut your fingers. It grinds up the food so it flows away in sewage pipes.”

  Throwing food into a pipe perplexed Deirdre. “You don’t have pigs?”

  Blossom laughed. “No, and I’m thankful for that.” Blossom rinsed plates and slid them into the dishwasher.

  “But they’re not clean yet.” Deirdre frowned.

  “They will be, dear.” Blossom explained how the dishwasher worked.

  Brendan rolled his eyes. He didn’t believe Deirdre was as uninformed as she pretended. But he’d give her credit for being a good actress. He hadn’t caught her slipping out of character for a minute. Yet.

  He planned to run her for priors first chance he had. Might as well give immigration a call while he was at it.

  His mom smiled at their guest. “So, you thought my son was a demon?”

  “Only because he talked about me landing at Hell’s gate, and what with him being so handsome and perfect looking.” Deirdre looked horrified as she stared at him then turned back to Blossom. “I-I only meant—“

  “I know what you meant, dear. He is handsome, even if he sometimes acts like a bear with a sore paw.” Blossom turned off the water.

  Deirdre blushed. “I wish I’d never told you the ridiculous tale about Purgatory and the demon and the angel? It makes me sound daft.”

  “Never mind, you know where you are now.” Blossom patted Deirdre’s hand. “It’s no wonder you were confused. Anyone would have been.” His mother turned to him and raised her eyebrows, as if waiting for him to say something to smooth their guest’s discomfort.

  Dutifully, he offered a smile. “Demon, huh? I’ve been called a lot of names, Deirdre, but before you, no one ever literally believed the things they said about me.”

  She met his gaze with a tilt of her head. “Mayhap only as far as you know.”

  “You have a point.” He laughed. “So, do you still think I’m a devil?”

  She shook her head. “I never said you were a devil, just an evil spirit. I’d have to think on it a bit.” She tilted her head as if she needed to consider the matter. “I’m not saying you’re not a demon of a sort, just not the kind associated with the afterlife."

  His mother laughed again and started the dishwasher.

  In spite of his mother standing nearby, he stepped toward Deirdre. “You think I might be dangerous?”

  “Aye, to every woman who falls for your charms, as if you didn’t know.” She stepped back into the counter.

  “Do demons have charms?” He took another step.

  She held her ground. “Hmph, as if I’d know. But I think you do, when you’ve a mind to. Sure and I’ll bet there’s many a lass who can testify to that.”

  Blossom hugged Deirdre’s shoulders. “Not so many lasses as you’d think, especially not in a long time.”

  He crossed his arms and leaned against the refrigerator. “I hardly think my private life is up for discussion.”

  Cathbad strolled through to the utility room at the end of the kitchen and climbed into his litter box. When they heard scratching, Deirdre appeared embarrassed.

  “After all your kindness, me cat has misused your home.”

  Before she could rush to get Cathbad, Brendan put a hand on her arm. “It’s all right. Mom put his litter box in there.”

  Blossom took her hand. “You have a lot of catching up to do. I’d better give you a tour of the house and explain how things work before Dave and I leave.”

  He followed along as his mom took her through the house. Deirdre kept up the façade of ignorance through all Blossom’s explanations. It angered him that this beautiful conniver was duping his too-trusting mom.

  Occasionally, doubt nagged at him. Who could make up anything like what she claimed had happened? On the other hand, who could believe it? He thought of Larry, and Brendan’s anger resurfaced.

  Their tour ended in the living room that overlooked the water. Dave folded the paper and stood as they came in.

  Blossom said, “I’ll leave Brendan to explain the television to you.”

  Deirdre rubbed at her temples. “Me head hurts from thinking on all the new machines and ways of doing things. It appears every part of living is different here than in Ballymish.”

  After Dave and his mom had left for the movies, Brendan gestured toward the sofa. “Have a seat and let’s talk for a while.”

  Deirdre chose the seat farthest from him, a chair by the window overlooking the lake. She stared at the lake and wished for a vision of her future. Nothing came. She clenched her hands. What good did the gift of sight do her if she couldn’t foretell her own future?

  But she’d vowed not to dwell on selfish thoughts. Sure and God had given her the sight for His purpose. It wasn’t hers to say when or why.

  She’d seen the vision of Brendan reaching for her and hadn’t that turned out all right? Prince bumped against her hand and she scratched his head. She’d known the dog’s name and that he was friendly.

  Hadn’t she comforted Brendan about his friend’s death? Even though she couldn’t trust this man, she was a healer and had to ease his pain when she could. Brendan had been sick with sorrow, and she’d quieted that for a time.

  Cathbad leaped into her lap and hissed at Prince.

  “You’ll have to share, Cathbad. Be nice.” She rubbed Prince’s ears. “And don’t be eating me cat.”

  “Deirdre?” Brendan sat on the end of the sofa near her. He looked sad again, and she sensed fear along with his anger. “Tell me how you knew about Larry—and none of your smoke about Mom or me telling you. I want the truth.”

  Chapter Six

  Deirdre stopped petting the animals to answer Brendan’s question. No, it was a command. “I can’t explain how I knew. Please don’t keep asking me.”

  She didn’t think Brendan would believe her if she explained. Or, if he did, he’d likely think she was a witch, and that wasn’t true. She couldn’t take a chance on what he’d do if he knew about her visions. There was no telling what they did to people suspected of witchcraft in this place.

  He appeared to search her face. “Are you in trouble with the men who shot him and me?”

  How could he think that? She leaned forward. “I don’t know who shot either of you, only that him dying wasn’t your fault.” She looked at her hands, hoping for a way to satisfy him on this. “You were so sad when you thought about him. I only wanted to reassure you that you weren’t to blame.”

  “But how did you know that? Hell, how did you even know what I was thinking?” He scooted to the edge of the sofa. The sorrow was back in his eyes as he pleaded with her. “I won’t arrest you, but you have to tell me what you know and how you came to learn it.”

  She wished she could explain and make everything right for him. Seeing him locked in pain hurt her. “You were a good friend to him. That’s all I know. If there were more, I’d tell you.”

  He grimaced and looked ready to explode.

  She held up a hand. “Truly, that’s all I can say. You must believe me.”

  “How can I? There has to be more. You m
ean that’s all you’re willing to say?” Brendan snarled and reached for a black thing on the table. “I’ll tell you this, you aren’t leaving here until I know how you found out about Larry and who put you up to this.” He punched a button and the large box against the wall lighted up.

  She’d decided to remain quiet and still until his anger passed, but when small people moved inside the box, she gasped. “Merciful heavens, are those leprechauns?”

  “Cut the crap, will you? You must know it’s a television, a TV.” The harshness of his voice wounded her. “You’re probably laughing up your sleeve at mom and me.”

  “Brendan, I know it’s hard to accept what’s happened to me. Don’t you think I’m as puzzled as you are?”

  “Like hell.”

  “Look at me eyes. Can you not see I’m telling you the truth?”

  He looked at her intently without answering then rose. Hands in his pockets, he paced the floor, then exhaled. “All right, all right. I swear I don’t know what to think anymore. For now I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. But if you know anything else—and I mean even the slightest thing—about Larry’s death, you’d better tell me.”

  “I promise to tell you whatever I learn.” That was all she could give. If another vision came, she’d share it with him to ease his pain. He wasn’t the demon he sometimes seemed, but a man hurting from the loss of his friend. Aye, as she ached from the loss of Ma.

  He rose and stomped to the desk, opened the drawer, and then returned to the sofa. “Move beside me.”

  His tone irritated her so that she started to refuse, but she pushed down her anger and sat beside him.

  “Assuming you don’t know, this is a pen.” He marked across a piece of paper on the table. “It’s called a ballpoint and it already has the ink inside.”

  Passing it to her, he also moved several fresh sheets of paper toward her. “Write your name and the names of your parents and grandparents for me, will you? Also, the name of your town? Oh, and put down your date of birth.”

  Deirdre rolled the pen in her fingers then tested it on the paper. Amazing. It wrote easily and didn’t scratch or leave blobs of ink stains. When she’d finished, she pushed the pen and paper toward him. “This is as far back as I know.”