by Bess McBride
Nathan had said when she had returned to the twenty-first century, she had returned to a time before she met him. Oh, it was all so confusing! She stared at his handsome profile. No, she had definitely never met him. He was quite unforgettable.
He opened his eyes and caught her looking at him.
“Not sleeping?” he grinned.
“I suppose it would help if I closed my eyes.” Amanda blushed. “You can turn the light off now. But don’t go yet!”
Nathan rose and pressed the light switch. A sliver of moonlight shone in the window, and Amanda was reassured to see him return. He reclaimed her hand.
“You know I feel bad about asking you to babysit me like this,” she murmured, glad he could no longer see her face, her expressions. “I’m sorry for being so helpless. I’m not the most independent gal in the world, but I don’t usually ask people to hold my hand when I go to sleep.”
“Usually?” Nathan said, a hint of laughter in his voice.
“Okay, never,” Amanda said. “Well, maybe my mom when I was little.”
“I don’t mind. Far from it. I hesitate to remind you yet again that we were engaged to be married. We have held hands many times. Your touch is very familiar to me...very.” Nathan’s voice ended on a husky note. Amanda couldn’t see his expression, but his fingers tightened around hers.
She held her breath, listening to the pounding in her heart. Afraid he might hear it in the quiet room, she spoke.
“But not when I go to sleep?” Her lips curved in a smile.
Nathan chuckled in the darkness. “Regrettably, not yet.”
Amanda’s heart skipped a beat, and her toes tingled. Sleep seemed a long way off. She would have to force the issue.
“I’m going to sleep now,” she said. She pressed her eyelids shut.
“Good night, Amanda. Sleep well.” His voice was soft, caressing. Amanda thought she could happily listen to that voice forever.
She clung to his hand in case he was thinking of leaving.
“Don’t let me disappear, Nathan,” she whispered. “In the dark. Don’t let me vanish.”
Nathan gripped her tighter. She felt his nearness as he leaned over to kiss the top of her head.
“Never,” he whispered. “Never again.”
****
Amanda opened one bleary eye and then the other. A dull white-painted plaster wall stared at her from across the room. Daylight filtered in from the window whose thick brown cotton curtains had been pulled aside.
She pushed herself upright and surveyed the room with confusion. Where was she? A dark wooden chair sat at her bedside. Nathan! A memory of arriving at the hotel the night before came back, and before that...arriving in the early twentieth century.
Nathan! Where was he? She clambered out of the bed, still in her T-shirt and leggings, and tiptoed across the floor to pull the door open and peek out. The unmistakable clanking sound of pots and pans in the distance caught her attention. Mrs. Spivey must be up and about. The door across the hall was closed.
Amanda crept across the hall and tapped quietly on the door. Perhaps too quietly as there was no answer. She tapped again, hoping to avoid drawing Mrs. Spivey’s attention. No answer. Amanda tried the knob, and it turned. She stuck her head inside.
The room was empty, the bed made, and there was no sign that Nathan had ever been in the room. Amanda, aware of a heavy sense of dread which settled in her chest, took a deep breath. Where was he? He hadn’t disappeared himself, had he? She pushed into the room and checked under the bed for shoes. She stared at the pillow. Was there an indent there? No! Fresh and flat as if Mrs. Spivey had just made the bed.
Amanda’s first reaction was to dash downstairs and ask the hotel manager if she knew where Nathan had gone, but she dreaded a strange look from the older woman, accompanied by the response that she had met no man named Nathan.
Amanda closed the door behind her and stood in the hallway, panic rising. What was she going to do? Where was Nathan? Please say that she hadn’t made him up. Oh, please say so.
She’d ridden the train over and over and over in search of she knew not what. Just some crazy notion that she would find what she was looking for on the train, some nebulous something…or someone. Had she dreamed the whole event up? Meeting Nathan? Traveling in time? Was she dreaming now, slumbering away in her roomette on the train?
Nausea rose in her throat, and she ran down the hall for the bathroom, hoping she could make it in time. She wrenched open the door, and there—a white towel wrapped around his waist—stood a Roman god. Droplets of water lingered on the curly tendrils of dark hair above broad shoulders. A well-defined muscled chest tapered down to a narrow waist. As beautiful as his body was, she could not keep her eyes from his face. His damp hair was combed back in waves to reveal a broad forehead above sparkling dark brown eyes glistening with wet lashes. The sharp line of his now clean-shaven jaw ended in an adorable cleft chin. His smile, as she had predicted, was broad and generous. At the moment, he was laughing, a razor in his hand.
“Amanda! You are awake!” Nathan’s high cheekbones bronzed as Amanda stared at him with wide eyes. His smile faded.
“Amanda? Dearest? Is something wrong?” He picked up another towel from the edge of the bathtub and draped it around his shoulders.
“Look at you,” Amanda breathed, only barely aware that she really ought to excuse herself and shut the bathroom door. He looked slightly uncomfortable at her gaping. But she was so glad to see him, to know that he hadn’t been a figment of her imagination.
“No, there is no possible way that I could have imagined you,” she sighed. She heard her words spoken aloud and drew in a sharp breath.
“Oops! Sorry.” She started to pull the door shut. “I’ll just wait in the bedroom.”
“Wait! Amanda.” Nathan held the door before she shut it. “Do you feel ill? You looked unwell when you first opened the door.”
Amanda forced herself to drop her eyes to the floor, otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to stop staring at him.
“No, no, I’m fine. Well, I was a bit nauseous when I couldn’t find you. I thought I’d made you up. But I can see that I haven’t. You’re real. All’s well!” she ended brightly. The heat on her cheeks must have been obvious for him to see.
He cupped her chin in his hand.
“Yes, I am real,” he murmured. “All is well. I am encouraged that you missed me.”
“Yes, well, like I said, I thought I’d made you up.” Amanda, forced to meet his eyes, blinked. Her heart raced.
Nathan smiled. “And you are glad to find that you did not?”
“Yes, something like that,” she murmured. “Okay, let me let you get dressed.” She turned away and pulled the door shut, wondering if she would ever get a chance to see him like that again—wet hair, glistening skin, only a towel wrapped around his waist. She sighed. If she had been engaged to him before, had she seen more of him?
Amanda’s cheeks flamed, and she hurried down the hall and darted into her room, her heart pounding so loud in her throat that she thought Nathan must hear it from the bathroom.
How close had they been, by the way? Had they been lovers? Had she run her fingers down his chest, along the length of his collarbone, across his shoulders? She dropped down onto the bed and pressed her face into her arms. She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t remember anything.
A soft knock on her door startled her, and she hopped off the bed and opened the door.
Nathan stood there, fully dressed in the clothing he had been wearing which suddenly seemed newer, fresher, less threadbare. Perhaps it was that he had bathed and shaved. Perhaps he felt cleaner, and therefore stood taller. Amanda didn’t know. She only knew that she couldn’t breathe when he looked down at her with his warm brown eyes.
“Here I am, fully dressed,” he said with a wry smile. “Are you feeling better now?”
Amanda nodded, unwilling to voice how well she felt at the moment basking under his gaze.
“You look great,” Amanda breathed. Too much. “I mean, you look fine.” She bit her lip and looked away to peek past him in the hallway. The wonderful smell of cooking food wafted toward her room. Nathan must have caught the twitch of her nose.
“I believe Mrs. Spivey is preparing breakfast,” he said. “Shall we go downstairs to eat?” He held out his arm. She hesitated, the question uppermost in her mind driving her crazy.
“Nathan, I don’t know how to ask this, but did we ever...?” Amanda’s face burned. How did one ask?
Nathan raised an inquiring brow. “Ever...?” He shook his head as if he didn’t understand.
“Ummm...did we ever...uh...you know?” She raised her eyebrows and looked at his chest, now covered with a faded white shirt and his dark jacket.
“I am not sure I know what you mean, Amanda.” Nathan did indeed look confused. Well, what could she say?
“Were we ever...? You know, you said we were engaged. Did we ever...?” She nodded toward the general area of the bed, her cheeks burning.
Nathan followed her eyes, and a look of understanding passed over his face. His face bronzed, and he dropped his eyes to the floor for a moment before raising them to meet hers.
“No, Amanda, we did not.” He cleared his throat. “We thought we had forever.” His voice was husky. “But that was not the case, was it? Over the past year, I must confess I have often wished we had not waited.”
Amanda’s breath seemed to stop for a minute at the regret in Nathan’s eyes. She put her hands to her cheeks. It must have been so easy to fall in love with him. She felt as if she were halfway there again.
“Well,” she said briskly with a bright smile. “What an awkward question! But I just had to know.” She moved past him quickly. “Let’s go eat!”
“Wait!” Nathan said, a hand on her arm.
Amanda drew in a sharp breath. Was he going to kiss her? He bent near, and she closed her eyes. Oh, yes!
“I think you must wear my coat,” Nathan said. Amanda opened her eyes to see Nathan picking up his coat from the chair next to the door. He held the coat open for her. “I don’t think Mrs. Spivey will approve of your clothing.”
Amanda bit her lip to hold back a nervous giggle. “Oh, the coat,” she murmured. She slipped her arms into the coat. “Yes, you’re probably right.”
“I think I might ask Mrs. Spivey if she has an old dress or something you could wear. If funds do not arrive today, we might not be able to purchase any clothing. My ‘brights’ as you call them can only get me so far.”
Nathan grinned, his dimples deepening in the most charming way, and Amanda’s knees melted.
“Oh, I think your ‘brights’ can get you almost anything you want, Nathan. You’ve done pretty well so far.”
Nathan’s eyes twinkled. “Perhaps,” he said. “But I do not have everything I want, as you well know by now. I do not really have you.”
Amanda’s heart pounded so fast she thought it would burst. The man was going to give her a stroke. Did he hold nothing back? And he said she wore her heart on her sleeve? His heart was there for all the world to see.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she quipped. She hurried down the hall. “See you at breakfast!”
She heard Nathan’s chuckle behind her, and given her weak knees, she hung onto the polished wooden banister of the stairs as she made her way downstairs. Nathan followed closely behind.
At the bottom of the stairs, Nathan took her hand under his arm and led the way toward the smell of food near the back of the hotel. They stopped short of the kitchen just as Mrs. Spivey bustled out, a large apron covering her dark skirt.
“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter. Breakfast will be in the dining room. Just through there.” She nodded toward a dining room just to the right of the kitchen. A long table, covered by a white linen tablecloth, grounded a large room. Gently used chairs lined the perimeter of the table. Two place settings of plain white china, silverware and glasses had been laid at one end of the table.
“I’ll bring your breakfast in. I’ve got pancakes, oatmeal and toast this morning.”
“That sounds wonderful, Mrs. Spivey,” Amanda said. She suspected she’d been a little too mealy-mouthed last night, allowing Nathan to do all the talking, and she wanted Mrs. Spivey to know that she appreciated her generosity in allowing them to stay without proof of payment, as well as feeding them twice in a twelve-hour period.
Nathan pulled out a chair for Amanda, and she slid into it, albeit not as gracefully as she would have liked, hampered as she was by the coat.
“Are you cold, Mrs. Carpenter?” Mrs. Spivey asked. “I see you still have your coat on.”
Amanda suspected Mrs. Spivey knew it was Nathan’s coat. Amanda was about to nod when Nathan intervened.
“I must confess, Mrs. Spivey, that my wife has had no proper clothing since we were accosted. She was in her sleeping garments when the assailants broke into our room and stole our clothing. I happened to be dressed at the time, having just come in from a walk. Mrs. Carpenter has had to wear my coat to cover herself. I was wondering if you happened to have an old garment that you could loan my wife until we are able to purchase a few things. You and she look to be about the same size.”
Amanda watched Nathan favor Mrs. Spivey with a brilliant smile. Amanda was much smaller than Mrs. Spivey, both in height and girth, but she suspected from Mrs. Spivey’s blush that Nathan had said the right thing.
“Oh, certainly! That won’t be a problem. How terrible for you,” she murmured. “I’ll drop some clothing off in your room while you eat, along with the lemon juice I promised you.” She smiled at Amanda. “I’ll serve breakfast now.”
She left and Amanda shook her head with a grin.
“Nathan, Nathan, Nathan,” she murmured. “You’re good!”
“Please,” Nathan said with a wince. “You make me sound so calculating.” He picked up a carafe and poured her a cup of coffee.
Amanda nodded. “I do, don’t I? I don’t mean to. I’m not sure you understand how charismatic you are.”
“Charismatic? I don’t wish to be charismatic. There is only one person I wish to appeal to.” He gave her a pointed look.
“See what I mean?” Amanda said with a chuckle. “Who says that?”
Chapter Six
“I mean who really says stuff like that?” Amanda asked.
Nathan laughed just as Mrs. Spivey brought several plates of food. She hurried away, and they tackled their meal.
“How long do you think it will be until you hear from your bank?” Amanda asked.
Nathan had been wondering the same thing. Would it take longer, given that they had probably thought him deceased? He hoped not.
“I don’t know, frankly. As you can imagine, they must have thought me dead. Well, perhaps not quite dead. The owner of the bank, my dear friend, Robert Chamberlain, is married to a time traveler, and he knew you and I were taking a journey to the future. I assume that he thinks I may have chosen to stay in the future with you, that perhaps we changed our minds, though that would hardly be likely given we were so close to the wedding. Nevertheless, he could not have said anything to any of the bank staff. Only Robert Chamberlain, Stephen Sadler, Rory O’Rourke, their wives and one or two others know about the time traveling. It is hardly something that we can readily advertise, of course. I do not know if my account is frozen or closed or whether my grandfather has control of my funds now. We shall soon see.”
“Your poor grandfather,” Amanda murmured. “He’ll be so happy to see you, won’t he?”
Nathan smiled and nodded. “If the shock of my reappearance does not send him to his grave. As I mentioned, he did not know about the time traveling, so it is likely he thought you and I must have perished in some mysterious way. I don’t know that Robert would have told him the truth�
��that we were traveling in time.”
“Well, you’re almost home. Do they have telephones or anything yet? I can’t remember when those came out?” Amanda surveyed the room as if to find one. “Maybe you could call your grandfather.”
“Yes, we do have telephones although I don’t know if Mrs. Spivey has one. However, I don’t wish to have a switchboard operator listen to any conversation I might have with either the bank or my grandfather. I think it best I wait until I reach home to talk to my grandfather. A few more days will not make a difference.”
Amanda nodded and applied herself to her food. Nathan watched her out of the corner of his eye. She had a hearty appetite, had always had one. That at least had not changed. In the light of day, she looked remarkably the same. Perhaps her hair had grown a few inches. She styled it similarly to when he had first encountered her—in a ponytail. He had adored the chestnut color, the silky feel of the curls beneath his fingers, and had he often dreamed of the day when he could bury his face in her unbound hair. A dull ache in the center of his chest caught him by surprise.
Would that ever come to pass? Could Amanda fall in love with him again and consent to marry him? Was it possible for the same woman to fall in love with the same man twice? Such questions were beyond the realm of most peoples’ experiences.
“What’s wrong?” Amanda asked.
He had been unaware she had looked up from her breakfast to catch him staring at her.
“Nothing, my dear,” he said with a shake of his head. “I was wondering at how much you have changed over the past year.”
Amanda stilled. “Have I changed? Too much?”
Nathan shrugged his shoulders. “Not physically. But certainly you are not the same woman I knew a year ago.”
Amanda dropped her eyes. A red hue stained her cheeks. “Sorry,” she murmured in such a low voice he almost missed it.
Nathan’s heart rolled over. Had he inadvertently hurt her feelings?