Time Twist

by Jeanie R. Davis

  His breath tickled her ear when he whispered, “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

  Ari didn’t trust her voice not to wobble, so she nodded.

  He continued massaging his hands up and down her quivering arms. The horse made no movement. Ari kept her head down and concentrated on breathing.

  “Arianna?” Christopher gently took hold of her chin and tilted her face toward his. “I am really sorry. Would you like to finish the ride—at a slower pace, of course? Or…” He looked around and saw what she had been seeing for the last hour: nothing but open space.

  She shifted her body to talk to him more comfortably, then looked into his concern-filled eyes. “I’m sure I’m not the first person to almost fall off a horse.” Her voice felt strained but became stronger with each word. “Other than walking—which would take hours—I don’t see another way back.”

  His hand still held her chin. His thumb caressed her as it traveled up her jawline to her lips. This time the shivers that ran down her spine weren’t from fear. She felt as if his eyes bored a hole into hers, searching. Yes, the answer was yes. He should kiss her. She knew it wasn’t the right answer, but it was what she wanted all the same.

  His breath hitched, and his hand dropped to his side, as if he’d come to his senses. “I’m glad you’re all right. Let’s get you home.”

  It’s best this way, she repeated it in her head. But disappointment filled her heart.

  Christopher guided Maida Vale back to the stable. Dismounting first, then lifting Ari down, he took the saddle off and brushed the horse for a few minutes. Ari couldn’t help observing the tenderness in his eyes as he spoke in low tones to his mare.

  “I can see why you love to ride so much. I feel the same way when I run—free from all my troubles for a while.”

  He turned his attention from the horse to Arianna. “I’m afraid, my dear, you may not love it so much tomorrow.” He motioned to her backside.

  She could already feel an ache in her muscles beginning. “So, this is what they mean by ‘saddle sore’?”

  His lips quirked into a grin—a heavenly sight. “It goes away after you’ve been riding a few times. Do you still want to force lunch down me, or are you too uncomfortable to sit?”

  “Oh no, you’re not getting out of lunch that easily—we had a deal.”

  They chose a restaurant neither of them had been to. Abby’s seemed too raw just now.

  Still leery about upsetting him with her questions, Arianna let him steer the conversation. She was happy to see some color tint his face, and his eyes appeared bluer. Riding did seem to suit him.

  He didn’t say much, and she watched as he pushed food around on his plate. Something was haunting him. She needed to know.

  “If you don’t eat, you won’t have the strength to catch the bad guys,” she teased.

  He glanced up, startled, as if he hadn’t noticed he’d been in another world.

  “Look, Christopher,” her voice gentle, “your problems won’t be solved through starvation. Please eat for me. I can’t bear to watch you go through this”—she waved her hand—“whatever it is.” Her tone had risen in volume and tears stung her eyes. She had his full attention now.

  “Arianna.” He pulled her hand into his. She let it relax as her fingers unfolded. “I am truly sorry. If it is causing you pain to be with me, I shall not continue to bother you. It is just this—I did feel better after being with you, holding you—as if you somehow lessened my burden—when last we met. I suppose I just wished for something of the same balm today. It was selfish of me. Forgive me.”

  The tears flowed freely now as she listened to the man she cared for so much suffer from whatever demons haunted him.

  He hailed the server and asked for the check as Ari attempted to regain her composure. “And a box for his food,” she managed to rasp out to the waiter. The attendant nodded and walked away.

  “You can’t keep shutting me out. I care too much—”

  “That is why I must. Because I care too much, as well.” His hand tightened around hers. “I have never met a kinder person than you, Arianna. Please believe me when I say you deserve someone much better than I.”

  “But what if it’s you I want?” she whispered back.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Christopher’s heart broke in half at Ari’s admission. Making her angry had been painful; making her miserable, sheer torture.

  Once he had delivered Ari to her apartment, he drove to the police station. He hadn’t been called in; he just didn’t wish to be home—alone. Busying himself until past dark, he worked through piles of paperwork. Finally, his desk offered no more diversions, so he headed to his empty apartment and aimed for his bed.

  I just keep mucking up things. He could neither help, nor stop hurting the ones he loved the most. Locating a nearly guttered taper—finding solace in the precious few articles that still existed from his childhood—he lit the candle and breathed in the waxy, fragrant remains of a lost world.

  Shadows danced on the ceiling as he lay in his bed. His crowded bed—congested with worry, fear, sorrow and hopelessness—no room for sleep.

  He didn’t desire sleep, anyway. He wanted only to remember the pink of Arianna’s cheeks, so soft and flawless. The feel of her silky hair, woven into a braid that had pestered him when they rode. Her full lips he’d nearly kissed. The memories were tender. Her eyes—

  He stopped himself there, wishing to remember everything but her eyes. They’d been too honest. He did not want to relive the hurt he had caused her—again.

  I’m finished being a greedy fool—taking from Ari without giving back. That’s it. I’m going to tell her everything—the whole truth. She’d likely not believe him. And if she did, she’d know he was the son of a thief and murderer. She would want nothing to do with him. …Or perhaps he’d underestimated her and by telling her, they could conceivably share a future together. The possibility he’d been denying all along spread warmth to his heart.

  Their relationship had suffered enough. It would either live or die with the truth.

  He picked up his cell phone. The knots in his shoulders began to unravel. The truth, already setting him free, gave him resolve to make the call.

  His text notification light blinked at him. Clicking it, he realized he’d missed a text from Ari. Christopher, I made it clear where I wanted our relationship to go today. I realize you don’t share my feelings. I’m done. I won’t pursue more than a friendship with you. Maybe it’s too soon for even that. Ari.

  His fingers moved quickly to punch in her number. He had no idea how long ago she’d sent the text, but he wouldn’t let her believe she’d let him down. The phone rang, and then her voicemail answered. He dialed again with the same results.

  His mood darkened once again.

  He snuffed out the candle.

  ****

  Christopher awoke Sunday morning to his phone ringing. He’d left it next to his bed just in case. Snatching it up, he was ready to tell Ari everything. Whether she believed him or not, she was going to hear it.

  “Flemming, we need you at the station. Some things went down during the night. It may require a trip to Colorado Springs.”

  He ended the call from the police sergeant and his thoughts made a U-turn. He’d have to give Ari his implausible, yet true, life story another time.

  Letting out a breath of disappointment, he readied himself for work.

  Chapter Forty

  “I refuse to cry one more tear for that man.” Ari threw her soggy pillow onto the floor. She swung her legs over the side of her bed in an attempt to rise on Sunday morning. “Ouch!” She glowered as she remembered Christopher’s prediction. He’d likely be happy she was sore.

  After a sleepless night crying over a man she’d as good as handed her heart, only to have him reject it, she deserved a warm bath. Christopher hadn’t even returned her text yesterday. After waiting an hour for something—a reply, an apology or at least confirmation he’d rece
ived it—she’d turned her phone off and put it in a drawer. When she’d turned it back on in the morning, the blank screen, though not surprising since she’d left it off, filled her with emptiness.

  She hobbled to the bathtub and turned on the faucet, closed her eyes and let the warm water soothe her bruised muscles and broken heart.

  So what if Christopher was everything she had ever wanted in a man. Kind and generous—she could never forget the number of times he’d come to her aid—and exceptionally handsome. She closed her eyes and pictured his face, his delicious dimple creasing when he’d smile. Great with kids—she recalled the Frisbee incident at the picnic—and most of all, he was a gentleman. He’d never pushed her to do anything she hadn’t been ready for—but he’d pushed her away. She slapped the water, splashing white foam against the wall. He’d never have the chance to do it again. She was done. “Christopher Flemming, you are officially out of my life. You may have been the man I’d hoped to spend the rest of my days with, but it’s obvious you don’t feel the same. I came here to do a job.” She blinked back a stubborn tear. “And that’s that.”

  ****

  Monday morning shined bright and cheery—a complete contradiction to her mood—but still, Monday meant work and work meant a diversion from the slump she’d been experiencing.

  At least she had plenty to do. She checked her watch, counting the minutes until the next truck was due to arrive. Deliveries were a daily event now. Everything had been ordered; it was a matter of awaiting their arrival, then seeing the pieces properly placed. Her heart hurt. Thankfully there was no one there to ask her about her foul mood. She didn’t want to talk—just work.

  As the week dragged on, Ari anxiously anticipated Friday—which still seemed an eternity away. She would have Sarah’s journal to read; that was something to look forward to—unless Mr. Somers came alone.

  Friday eventually made its way into Arianna’s week. She brightened when all the Somers arrived with loads of personal items to put in their bedrooms. Sarah caught her eye and nearly smiled until Mr. Somers entered behind her. Her head immediately dropped, and Ari turned a page in her notebook, as if she hadn’t noticed Sarah at all. She wanted so badly to hug her and converse with her like normal friends. She sighed. There was nothing normal about the Somers.

  Now that their new furniture was in place, they could fill the closets and drawers. Ari noticed that Sarah spent an unusually long time alone in her bedroom. Of course, Sarah could be one of those slow, meticulous types who took more care than most in putting away her belongings. Arianna hoped that wasn’t the case. She itched to find out if Sarah had written in her journal, fascinated by any glimpse into this mysterious family.

  Mr. Somers seemed tired—or cross. Ari dreaded the conversation sure to happen before the family’s departure. Every week he found something to grouse about—legitimate or not. Ninety-nine point nine percent not. She swore he got pleasure from other people’s unhappiness. No sooner had she thought it than Mr. Somers entered the room wearing the scowl she’d come to realize was permanent.

  “Miss Miller? Are you ready to review this week’s progress?”

  She was never ready to speak to him, but she saw no escape. Ironic—that was probably how Sarah felt. “Yes, Mr. Somers. I’m ready.” She took a seat at the table across from the man who intimidated her, frightened her, threatened her, but unfortunately, also presently employed her.

  His black eyes roved over the carefully prepared pages she’d set before him. Grunts and occasional twitches gave Ari no indication of what he thought. “Everything seems to be in order.” He stood abruptly and barked at his family to stop their tarrying and head to the car.

  Mr. Somers—the king of criticism—just said everything seemed to be in order, or maybe she was hallucinating. He always found something to complain about. She realized her mouth had fallen open, and promptly closed it. Maybe it was his birthday, or something. Whatever it was, she’d take it.

  Peering through the blinds until the Somers’ car disappeared, she bolted the door so there would be no surprise visitors, then headed up the grand staircase to Sarah’s room. She retrieved the journal and thumbed through the pages until spying the one she sought.

  Dear Journal,

  Ari’s heartbeat accelerated with nervous excitement as she began to read.

  A, I am so sorry to read about the car accident and that you now find yourself without a family. I cannot comprehend the loss you must feel. Cars frighten me; they move so fast. My father drives them, but I do not. He drove a red car at one time, but for some reason traded it for the black one he drives now.

  A cold chill prickled Ari’s skin. No. No way. Too much of a coincidence.

  Rubbing her temples and releasing a few cleansing breaths, she read on.

  I know I make complaints about my family’s situation, but at least I still have them. Please accept my most heartfelt condolences. While my loss is not so dear as yours, I do so miss my homeland, as well as my own time.

  Sarah had written a lot more, then scribbled it out. Arianna could make out a few of the smeared letters, but not enough. She turned on the lamp that sat on the nightstand, then pulled off its shade. When she held the page close to the light, she could read Sarah’s words.

  I feel completely displaced here. In England, before my father slipped from his standing in society, I had a very happy family, too. Sadly, my father’s bad decisions destroyed his once-fine character. He was not always a bad person. Now, however, I fear I will never be able to forgive the things he has done, and the pain he continually inflicts upon our family. Perhaps time will repair these feelings. I hope that has happened for you. Has time healed your wounds? Sometimes that is all we have on our side. Please know that I value our friendship. Yours, S.

  Ari’s heart raced. Unable to organize the thoughts that jumped and rattled in her head, she put the journal down and wandered the halls of the empty house once more, just to make certain she was alone.

  Phrases such as “before my father slipped from his standing in society” confused her. Surely modern-day England’s social and political systems had evolved from the way her books depicted London two hundred years ago. She shivered. Perhaps not. And she wondered what Sarah meant about Mr. Somers’ standing. “Please let Sarah be exaggerating,” she whispered.

  Then there was the line about Sarah missing her own time. There was so much she was not understanding about this mysterious family. So many secrets had been swept under the rug.

  Arianna didn’t know the most appropriate way to respond to Sarah, but she’d do her best. She had to be very careful not to mention anything about her father. Sarah clearly had second thoughts after she’d written it. Once again Ari had read something she shouldn’t have. She just felt so desperate to help.

  Dear Journal,

  S, thank you for your condolences. Time has helped in the healing process, and one day I am confident I will not miss my family as sorely as I do now. It does get better each day. I can understand missing your homeland, but what did you mean when you said you miss your own time? That puzzles me. I don’t mean to pry; it’s just that the more I learn about your family, the less I feel I know. Your secrets are safe with me, if you feel inclined to share them. On a happier note, next week on August 6th, it’s my birthday. My friends are all in Denver, so I won’t be doing anything special for it. How did you celebrate birthdays back in England? I treasure our friendship as well.

  Sincerely, A.

  Arianna did treasure her budding friendship with Sarah, especially after all she had been through with Christopher. Sarah was perhaps her only friend in Pueblo.

  As she stood to leave, her eye caught something new placed on Sarah’s dresser. Wow, she thought, this mirror, comb and brush set are positively vintage. Ari knew a fair amount about antiques, having spent two semesters studying them in school. Gently fondling the brush, she wondered how something so obviously nineteenth century could look new. They definitely couldn’t be found
in stores today. And the set had been so well preserved. She snapped some pictures to send Maggie. She won’t appreciate them as I do, but I’ve got to show someone.

  After putting the articles back where they belonged, she began her routine tour of the house. Ari loved looking around and observing the improvements of the day, adjusting anything that was not precisely in its place, as well as soaking in the beauty of the house. A perfectionist, she always left everything in order. Tonight was more rewarding than most, as the Somers had brought with them several interesting items. Arianna went from room to room searching for more antiques, and she wasn’t disappointed. There weren’t many, but some of the things she spotted—antique candelabras, picture frames and even some furniture pieces—absolutely fascinated her. They were in mint condition. She needed to find the antique store where the Somers shopped. It had to be in Denver, unless they’d brought them from England, a more likely scenario.

  There were candles—lots of them, as if they still used them for light. The Somers seemed to be even more intrigued by the nineteenth century than she was. She held up a taper, puzzled. Flipping the light switch on and off, she chuckled, wondering if she should let them in on a little secret.

  One of her favorite rooms to walk through each evening was Joshua’s. He reminded her of her brother, Seth. She hadn’t been given specific instructions as to how Josh would like his room furnished, so she’d taken some liberties and decorated it the way Seth would have liked, adding a basketball-hoop hamper and shadow boxes filled with helmets, nets, and balls of every kind. Horizontal, broad-striped bedding gave it just the right touch. It appeared much more modern than the other rooms, but Arianna felt certain Joshua would like a sports-themed space, as opposed to a floral Victorian room. Judging by the expression on his face when he’d seen it with all its furnishings today, she’d made the right call.