Across the Winds of Time

by Bess McBride

  “And what is this?” he asked in an amused tone. I turned to see him study my apartment-sized, round, glass-topped breakfast table—completely out of place in this homey Victorian kitchen with the faded remnants of an ivy-patterned wallpaper on the walls. I seriously doubted that Darius had put the wallpaper up.

  “That is certainly an interesting piece.” He moved over to touch the surface. The sight of his tanned, sturdy fingers running gently along the smooth glass made my knees wobble.

  “It’s the furniture from my other house. It doesn’t seem to fit in here, I know.”

  Darius turned to me with a smile that brought a charming crinkle to the corner of his eyes.

  “I apologize for frightening you upstairs. I knocked on the front door, but there was no answer. The door was not locked, and I entered as you can see,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. “I planned to wait in the living room for you, but your yellow-eyed spotted kitten stalked me mercilessly. And the orange cat ran inside the house when I entered. Surrounded by felines of unknown temperament, I found myself retreating up the stairs, and suddenly there you were!”

  His cheeks bronzed only slightly less than mine burned. He rubbed an unsteady hand over his jaw and contemplated the top of the table once again.

  “I can’t believe you’re real,” I whispered as I tightened my robe. I rushed on in a louder voice, hoping he hadn’t heard. “Can I offer you something to drink? Some hot chocolate?”

  Darius inclined his head. “Yes, please, that sounds wonderful.” He turned to survey the new white electric range and stove that had been delivered that afternoon. “This certainly doesn’t look anything like the wood stove I put in the house.” He touched the surface, again with long, masculine fingers that seemed to gently explore the texture of the smooth enameled surface.

  I turned away from ogling his hands to grab some bottled water from the refrigerator, following which I ransacked one of the cardboard kitchen boxes for two mugs and two packets of instant chocolate. I filled them with water and put them into the microwave. So far, the little apartment-size microwave had coaxed the old wiring to give it just enough juice to make hot water. I hoped it would hold up for two more cups before it fried the entire electric circuitry of the house.

  Darius turned to watch me. “And what is that?”

  “A microwave,” I murmured self-consciously. “I don’t know how it works either, but it heats things up fast.”

  “You do not use wood?”

  I shook my head.

  “No, no wood. I don’t.” I jabbed a thumb toward my chest. “Maybe some other people do. I don’t know what they do out here in the country.”

  Darius eyed me and chuckled. “And I have no idea what they do in the city...or even in this century for that matter.” He crossed the room to take a seat at the breakfast table, perching carefully on the orange-cushioned, black pseudo-wrought iron chairs that went with it.

  The microwave beeped, and I poured the packets of instant chocolate mix into the cups. It wasn’t my favorite sort of hot chocolate, but it sufficed in a pinch. I stirred the contents and brought the mugs over to the table where I took a seat opposite Darius. I lowered my gaze, wishing we were at opposite ends of a massive wooden dining room table so I could admire him from a distance. Just not so close.

  “You purchased my house,” he murmured in a voice of wonder, almost under his breath.

  Startled, I looked up to find him watching me steadily—a warm expression on his face.

  I squirmed under his gaze, and I took a quick sip of chocolate before responding.

  “I did. It’s a beautiful house. You did a wonderful job.” I looked around the kitchen...anything to avoid his disturbingly intimate gaze.

  “It took over a year to build. I built it for you, you know. For us.” He exhaled as he spoke, almost like a sigh, and I thought I might faint from the rush of bittersweet emotion his words elicited. I dropped my gaze again and struggled for control of my modern day sensibilities—fighting the sensation of being swept away in a romance that could have no happy ending.

  “Perhaps for someone who looked like me, Darius. It couldn’t have been me.” I took another practical sip of hot chocolate. “I don’t see how that could be possible.” But I desperately wanted it to be.

  Darius reached for my hand and covered it with his.

  “It is possible, Molly, and I think you are not as much of a skeptic as you think. I see it in the way you try to hide your eyes from me. You are frightened, and you do not understand what has happened. Nor do I. But I know that you loved me and you were going to marry me.”

  I clenched my fist under his, fighting the irresistible warmth of his touch. I pulled away gently and stuffed my hand into my deep robe pocket.

  “How could I be alive then and now? Are you suggesting reincarnation? And what about you? Are you alive? I thought you were just a dream.”

  Darius shook his head with a bemused smile.

  “I do not know, Molly. But you are as I remember you. Your sweet voice, the sparkle in your eye, the soft brown of your hair.”

  I thrilled to his words.

  “I cannot attest to whether I am alive or not,” he repeated as he grinned and ran a hand down the front of his dark gray vest. “I feel alive. I feel pain and hunger and thirst.”

  Hunger and thirst? I jerked my head in his direction and stared at him.

  “What? Where have you been for the past two weeks? Since I last saw you at the cemetery? Where have you been staying?”

  “Here,” he said.

  “Here?” I sat forward. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve been in the house this whole time?”

  “Well, yes, I am afraid so. I needed shelter.” He smiled apologetically.

  I gulped. “Do you mean you can’t go back to...to wherever you came from?”

  “It appears not. I am still here.” Darius shrugged his shoulders and regarded me with a half smile.

  “But...but how have you been eating?” I stammered. “Do you even need to eat?”

  “Apparently, I do,” Darius murmured. “I have been very hungry lately.”

  “How did you get food?” My eyes widened and my stomach rolled over. “You have been getting food, haven’t you, Darius? Please tell me I didn’t walk off on you and let you starve.” I covered my mouth with my hands and leaned on the table. “I didn’t know,” I mumbled against my palms while I stared at him, horrified.

  Darius chuckled, and his blue eyes twinkled.

  “Do not fret, Molly. I am in good health. I have eaten from the surrounding crops and roots from the garden.” He blushed. “I will admit to sniffing some of the orange cat’s food that was left out for him, but the smell was quite distasteful.”

  “The cat’s food?” I dropped my hands to my lap and began to giggle helplessly. “Oh, Darius! Surely not the cat’s food!”

  “Yes, well, I was not certain what the ingredients were, so I opted to let it be. I do not know how the cat eats that nonsense, but he seems to enjoy it.”

  I stopped my guilty laughter and studied Darius’s face. On closer examination, he did look a bit leaner around the face than when I’d seen him last.

  “I’m so sorry, Darius,” I murmured. “Drink your hot chocolate, and I’ll see if there’s anything to eat.”

  Either he was homeless or one of us was a lunatic. I hoped it wasn’t me—and I sincerely hoped it wasn’t him.

  Darius picked up his cup and took a sip. I was halfway to my feet to find something for him to eat when he began to sputter and cough.

  “Good gravy! What is this? Did you say it was hot chocolate?” He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and peered into his cup.

  “Yes. Instant hot chocolate.” I sat down again and eyed him narrowly.

  “Well, it is positively dreadful. Instant, you say? What does that mean?”

  “Instant. Ready made. Just pour it into a cup of hot water.” My foot began to tap. Sara would have told him that was a
bad sign. Beggars really shouldn’t be choosy, I fumed.

  “But where is the milk?”

  “I don’t have any. I just moved in. I haven’t been to the store. I don’t have an icebox.” I arched an eyebrow as I glared at him. “You’re only supposed to mix this with water, not milk.”

  “Oh, dear. I think I had better show you how to make a proper cup of hot chocolate...with milk and chocolate.”

  “I told you.” I frowned. “I don’t have milk—or chocolate.”

  He sat back in his seat and nodded, an irritating half smile on his face.

  “When you get them, of course.”

  “What if I don’t want to get them?” I dug in my heels...figuratively—hardly willing to reveal at this point that I wasn’t overly fond of instant hot chocolate either.

  From the gleam in his eye, Darius seemed to be aware of my irritation, but he was not intimidated.

  “Well, if you want a proper hot chocolate, you will get them.”

  “Why don’t you get them?” Hah! I had him now—the arrogant man!

  “I do not know that I can get down to the market.”

  “Oh, really? And why is that?”

  “Well, because I might very well be a ghost for all we know. I am unsure of what will happen if I try to go to the store.”

  I pointed triumphantly. “That’s right. You probably are a ghost! So, you probably shouldn’t be telling me how to make hot chocolate, should you?”

  Darius smirked. There were no other words to describe his expression.

  “But why would I not tell you if you are making it wrong?”

  “Because...Because...” I paused and gulped down a sip of my lukewarm, suddenly awful-tasting hot chocolate. “Because you’re a guest in my house, that’s why!”

  Darius grinned and inclined his head. “You are right, of course. I am a guest in your house, and I have been rude.”

  I gave a satisfied nod.

  “Except...”

  I shot him a glare. Would the man not give in?

  “It is also my house.”

  I sputtered and dropped my cup with a clatter on the glass top.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” I wagged my finger. “This is my house. I bought it. It’s mine.”

  Darius tipped his head.

  “It is our house, then. As it was always meant to be.”

  I bit my lip. He wasn’t exactly wrong about that. It really was his house. I don’t think he sold it willingly.

  “Well...” I pursed my lips and refused to say more.

  “Molly?” He leaned forward to peer into my face.

  “What?” I leaned back in my chair, crossed my arms and watched him through narrowed eyes.

  “I am not your father. You do not need to glare at me so crossly. Is it our house?”

  I tapped my slippered feet.

  “What would that involve...exactly?”

  Chapter Six

  Darius flashed white teeth and tilted his head in my direction in the most charming way.

  “I am not sure. I could stay as long as I wanted?”

  I gasped. Stay here? With me? Be careful what you wish for, I thought. Perversely, I pressed my lips together and shook my head in mute silence.

  “Hmmm... I see your point. That might prove to be inconvenient for you.” Darius crossed his arms and tapped a finger against his lips in mock thought. “I can stay as long as you want?”

  I gave him a dubious look.

  Darius chuckled. “That is better. We are making progress. You did not shake your head this time. What if I promise to help you restore the house? Can I stay? Surely, you do not want me wandering about that cemetery at all hours of the night, do you?” His feigned look of injury was irresistible.

  I burst into laughter, unable to hold back the image of handsome Darius with his golden chestnut waves haunting the cemetery at night.

  “I can just see it now,” I choked out between peals of giggles. “The ladies of the town will line up to come see you and bring you cookies.”

  Darius joined my laughter. “And why would they do that?”

  “Because you are so handsome,” I gasped as I recovered my breath. “Who could resist you?”

  A bright red flush bested the tan on Darius’s face, and he dropped his gaze. He picked up his mug and took a sip of his hot chocolate.

  “Stuff and nonsense.” He put a hand over his mouth to cough, and my heart melted at his embarrassment. I changed the subject.

  “So, what do you mean you’ll help me rebuild the house?”

  “Well, if you can provide the materials, I will...em...freshen it up, strengthen its weak spots, shore it up for another hundred years.”

  “Can you do that?” The image of this nineteenth-century man entangled in the cords of modern power tools and electrical wiring alarmed me.

  “Of course, I can. I am a builder. I built the house, did I not? It is still standing, is it not? Though in sad repair, I must say.” He gazed around the shabby ivy wall-papered kitchen.

  “The current owners said they didn’t have money to put into repairs. They haven’t lived here since they left home to marry. Their parents lived here until they passed away—probably about 20 or 30 years ago, but I understand they did no modernization.”

  “Well, that is it then! The house just needs to be taken care of, and I will see to it.”

  “Can you handle modern building supplies, electrical wiring, plumbing? I’m having some people come in a few days to upgrade the wiring and plumbing, but you would still have to deal with those upgrades.”

  Darius waved a dismissive hand. “It should not be a problem.”

  I gave him a skeptical look.

  “Well, I don’t doubt that you can refurbish the house you built, but I wonder if you won’t have some difficulties.”

  “I am up to the task,” he said in a self-assured tone.

  “And where do you plan to sleep? Umm, that is...do you sleep?” I bit my lip and dropped a nonchalant gaze to my now empty cup.

  “Yes, I do seem to need sleep. I have been sleeping in a corner of the living room. Not very comfortable on the floor, I might add. I should have used softer pine flooring instead of the hard oak, but little did I know I would require it for a bed.” The twinkle in his eyes matched his lop-sided grin.

  I sobered up and swallowed a lump in my throat. How could I have left him so...alone? How could I have abandoned him without resources?

  “You can take the couch for now. I don’t have an extra mattress or I’d let you have the spare bedroom upstairs.”

  A thought struck me. Cynthia and Laura were coming to pick me up in the morning.

  “Can other people see you?” I asked hastily.

  Darius chewed on his lower lip for a moment and shrugged.

  “I do not know. I thought it best to wait in the shed out back when the men came in the large conveyance to deliver your furnishings. This is a new experience for me.”

  “Well, the previous owners of the house—who are actually relatives of yours, by the way—are coming to pick me up in the morning. Just in case, I think you should... uh... not be seen, however you can manage that.”

  “Ah!” he nodded. “Certainly! I will hide in a closet if need be. And who might my relatives be?”

  “Cynthia and Laura. Let’s see. I think they are your—great-great-grand nieces. Something like that.”

  “Really! How fortunate. I still have family,” he beamed. “I would love to meet them.”

  “No!” I barked. “Absolutely not! It’s bad enough that one of us is crazy. I’d really rather not have them think that both of us are.”

  “Crazy...” He fingered his mustache thoughtfully. “I do not believe that I am crazy,” he stated with a thumb pointed toward his chest.

  “Well, I’m not either, so there!”

  “Exactly!”

  “Fine!” I grabbed the mugs and jumped up to put them in the sink. “The only food I have to eat right now is some fruit and
oat bars that I brought along on the trip. I haven’t been to the store yet. Do you want one?”

  “Certainly. I’ll admit to being famished.”

  I grabbed several out of a box on the counter and handed them to him. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything else. Will that be enough?”

  “Yes, this looks...delicious.” Darius bent his head to study the package. He pulled it apart successfully and tasted the bar. I watched with apprehension. Would he like it? Had we been in the big city, I could have run to an all-night grocery store, but I seriously doubted Lilium had any such thing. At any rate, had I been in a big city, I probably would not have met Darius.

  He smiled broadly and bit it into it. I relaxed. He seemed to like it. At least, he wouldn’t starve for tonight. I had no idea what the future would hold.

  “This is excellent,” he pronounced with another bite.

  Aware of a desperate need to separate myself from him at the moment to sort out my racing thoughts yet hating to be away from him for even a moment, I surprised myself by announcing I was going to bed.

  “So, I’ll leave out an extra pillow and blanket for you.” I bit my lip. “Do you need those? Do you get cold?” I wrapped my arms around myself and fought off a shiver of my own. “I don’t know...”

  Darius rose. “A blanket and pillow would be lovely, thank you, Molly. Right now, I am feeling all of the urges I knew when I lived. Thirst, cold, hunger...” He tilted his head with a brazen smile and directed a pointed look at me. I caught my breath and turned away.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with Sassy wandering around. She’s a night owl, and I don’t usually let her in my bedroom.”

  Darius chuckled. “She and I will do fine. And the orange cat?”

  “Oh, yes, Marmaduke. At least, that’s what I call him. I don’t know how he’ll settle in the house at night. He might want to go outside where he’s used to living. For a while anyway. He’s going to be fixed next week.”

  “Fixed?”

  “Neutered?”

  “Good gravy! Why would you do that to him? He seems such a fine fellow.”

  “Because he doesn’t need to be getting all the female cats in the neighborhood pregnant.”