Enchanted by You: Timeswept Soulmates (Timeless Brides Book 3)

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Enchanted by You: Timeswept Soulmates (Timeless Brides Book 3) Page 2

by Ginny Sterling


  Laughing aloud, she yelled “Flight? Genesis is in space.”

  “Glad to hear it, now the real work begins.”

  Unbuckling herself, it was odd to float upwards freely in the small capsule. Sabine, felt almost like she was swimming as she pulled herself forward to the hatch that attached her to the rest of the orbiter. It was thrilling and invigorating to feel the sense of weightlessness.

  All at once, she began to feel nauseated again. This time, it wasn’t the pressure from lift off, but her body realized it didn’t know which way was up or down. Scrambling, she dodged forward to grab a containment bag and tossed up her visor in order to capture her vomit. Whimpering, she just let it happen as her body convulsed, trying to empty her hollow stomach. There was nothing to come upwards. Without gravity, the sour, acidic bile was everywhere in her mouth and sinuses as she clutched the bag to her face.

  This is hell, she thought. Heaven and hell.

  Gasping, she rinsed out her mouth and swished as much as possible and blew her nose repeatedly. Glancing upwards, she stared at the sunrise coming over the earth for the first time. She knew sunrise would happen approximately sixteen times a day for her up here, but the first one was breathtaking to see. It almost made up for the vomiting as she saw the glow on the horizon burst into life illuminating the window.

  This was worth it, she thought. Shades of orange broke out from the inky darkness to dance on the blue marble below her. It was humbling and majestic. Moving through the orbiter, she checked the containers that had been stored carefully to find the little, green leaves floating eerily above the dirt. Even the spindly ones that normally remained close to the ground, stood at alert. Nothing could prepare her for this at home, no matter how much she tried. Being weightless was incredible.

  Grabbing a camera, she made a peace sign and smiled at her short, brown hair that stood on end. Her face looked puffy but that was to be expected since being weightless distributed all your bodily fluids everywhere evenly. She was told to expect nausea and/or a headache the first few days until she acclimated herself. They didn’t lie. She was puffy and puke-y. I’m a big ball o’sexy right here… floatin’ up here all by my lonesome! she thought comically.

  She spent hours checking her log, observing the plants and measuring them and jotting down results. Occasionally, she would take a break and spin the pencil in the air or mold her hair into a weird looking Mohawk. When she did that, she would snap a photo of herself amidst the photos of the plants. While it was work, it was simply fun as well.

  “Sabine, this is Mission Control. Come in, please.”

  “Mission, Sabine here. Copy.”

  “Good evening. Thought we would check on you and see how you are progressing on your first flight.”

  “Mission, may I be candid?”

  “Yes. You have been so far. Just remember, this is recorded.”

  “Flight, space is simply awesome,” she said laughing.

  “Good. Your numbers look good, too. Glad you are having an ‘awesome’ time.”

  “I’m working, too, I promise.”

  “I know, the photos are humorous.”

  “You have them already?”

  “Yes, they are on an automatic download. When you take a photo, it sends it immediately. I hope you don’t mind, but we put the Mohawk one of you on the NASA website with an update.”

  “Nah, that’s kinda funny though. Someone print me a copy of the webpage please. I want to frame it when I get home as a keepsake.”

  “Will do. Try to get some sleep eventually. You have been up for eighteen hours now.”

  “Copy that, Mission. I am going to bed.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Sabine locked down the plants and sealed the containment pod they were in. She couldn’t take a chance of any dew floating away or hitting anything electrical while she was asleep. She loved the moist smell of the peat moss they were planted in. It smelled rich and earthy. She felt so far from earth right now that it had a grounding effect to her psyche. Fastening the rest of her items, she let the clipboard float and secured her dehydrated protein bar she had been snacking on. Inspecting the rest of the pod, she secured the remainder of the items at the last minute simply because she didn’t want one smacking her in the face once she was zipped into her bag.

  Pulling herself bodily into what looked like a tiny shower enclosure, she managed to put her arms through the holes of the sleeping bag. Zipping it, she fastened her head to the foam block that would serve as her pillow for the trip. Turning off the lights put her in complete darkness and with the silence, she had a momentary bout of panic. The inky darkness felt like the inside of a tomb. “Hey, Siri,” she shouted, activating her iPhone 7.

  “Yes, Hot Stuff?” Siri’s mechanical voice echoed aloud. Sabine thought it comical to have her phone call her Hot Stuff since she had no one else in her life to give her a nickname.

  “Play my classical music playlist.”

  Delicate tones echoed through the capsule breaking the silence. It felt so odd to have herself strapped down to sleep, but it was even stranger to have her arms floating in front of her. Shut your eyes, rest and relax she thought. Think of camping under the stars when you were little, how you dreamed you would be among them one day. Find that peace and sleep.

  Drifting and floating, Sabine finally nodded off. She dreamed of wide open spaces full of stars and comfort. She could hear wolves in the background of her mind and see the flowers, but knew she was safe. It seemed so real.

  Chapter Two

  “Good morning, sleepy head,” Eve announced brightly.

  “Holy cow! Who the hell are you? How’d you get in here?” Sabine screeched. Her eyes flew open and yanked the Velcro from her forehead. The sun must have risen again because the shuttle craft was illuminated by an outside light instead of being pitch black like it had been when she went to sleep. The light showed a woman floating not far from her. A beautiful, ethereal woman in a Mary Poppins-esque gown instead of the blue jumpsuit Sabine was wearing under her pressure suit. A bright red apple floated in front of her eerily as the woman pushed it, making it spin.

  “Sabine, this is Mission Control. Is there a problem?” she heard a voice crackle through the communication speaker overhead not far from her.

  “Say no,” the woman whispered with a grin. She looked way too happy to be sane.

  “Why?”

  “Sabine? Come in. Do you copy?”

  “Mission Control, I am here. Can you check my oxygen levels again?” Sabine replied warily. She stared at the woman and rubbed her eyes. As she opened them, the woman raised her hand and waved all five fingers at her as if to say hello.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “I think I am hallucinating,” she replied evenly. As the woman moved closer, Sabine gaped. The small distance between them was gone and Sabine was still zipped into the compartment, hesitating to move a muscle until she identified what was going on.

  “Nope,” Eve said with a smile and bopped her on the nose with a fingertip. “No hallucination. I’m right here with you. Just you, me and party of tree! Puns rock!” her singsong voice said absently as she pointed at the plants with a wide, maniacal grin.

  “What the hel-” Sabine scrambled, yanking the zipper down and lurching wildly out of the closed quarters to get away from the woman. She reached out and grabbed the door frame to pull her floating body quickly and easily past the intruder into the compartment she had been working in before she had gone to bed.

  “No, ma’am. First things first, no cursing while I’m around. Secondly, they are going to think you are loco in the coco. They can’t hear me. Only you can,” Eve announced, spinning her finger around her head. “I suggest you tell them it was a bad dream.”

  “Mission, I think I had a nightmare,” she said slowly, staring at her eerie face.

  “Copy that. Your vitals are elevated and oxygen is normal.”

  “Thank you.”

  Here, chat like this so they
don’t think you are nuts, Eve sent to her mentally.

  Am I? Nuts, that is? People don’t chat like this normally, you know.

  No, because I don’t do crazy. Well, this one time… No, not really. We can talk like this anytime we want. I’m here for you, Space Cadet.

  Who are you? Are you an alien?

  She appeared to be so. Her long, black hair swirled all around her in a large, dark cloud. Her blue eyes looked abnormally large and all knowing. How was she able to stick to the floor and her hair float around her? Did she smell apple pie? That was odd. The shuttle typically had a distinct metallic and slightly chemical smell that matched the fluorescent lights. But now? Now she faintly smelled apples. Tart, sweet apples. Where was that coming from? Her? The apple that was currently orbiting around the weird woman?

  Do you have magnets in your shoes? Do you have perfume on?

  That’s not important right now. What is currently, is the fact that I have been assigned to you. It’s your time for relocation, Eve announced silently with a wide grin, tapping on a wristwatch emphatically.

  Relocation? Where? How? I don’t know if you noticed or not, but we are in space. There is no place to go. How’d you get in here?

  Sure, there is! It’s all a matter of how you get there and if you want to go.

  Is there a chemical leak? Am I on drugs? You sound like I won a trip or a contest.

  In a fashion, yes. You are one lucky girl! There was a slight sound as her dress rippled as she walked across the metal flooring over to the plants that floated in their containers along the sterile wall. Her finger touched one curled leaf and Sabine watched it unfurl as if it had grown a week’s span suddenly.

  How did you get in here? How are the doors still sealed?

  I go where I want to, when I want to. Eve reached out with an ironic grin and touched another leaf only to have it wither and float away dead. Sabine gaped at the display, stunned and speechless.

  How did you do that? Where is your shuttle? Did you dock with me?

  Oh honey, I don’t swing that way.

  That’s perfectly fine with me because I didn’t mean it that way. Seriously, did you dock with my shuttle? This was the weirdest day, the strangest conversation ever! Why didn’t Mission Control alert her that the capsule had been boarded? That was freakin’ important considering oxygen was precious and she had enough for her week-long trip before reentering the atmosphere.

  Can I call you my little Space Cadet? I really love that nickname and it’s so fitting.

  No.

  Why not? Eve asked silently, giving an exaggerated pout.

  I’m not a cadet and you never explained how you got on board, she mentally argued, intending to push past the strange woman. Instead of making contact to push off of her and the wall, her hand went straight through the woman’s body. Staring at her hand that disappeared in the blackness, she jerked backwards sending her into the wall behind her.

  What the…

  Hay bale! Eve interrupted quickly. She breathed on her nails, inspected them and polished them on the lapel of her dress. Don’t say “what the H, E, double hockey sticks”. Instead, say “What the hay bale” or any other word that fits. No cursing, Cadet. Rule number one.

  What kind of rule is that? What are you? An alien?

  I’m something special, just like you.

  How am I special? I’m solid and you aren’t! My hand went right through you!

  It tickled, too.

  You are special, even if you don’t realize it. You just literally won the proverbial lottery, my dear. You are going to be relocated so you can meet your soulmate.

  I’m a little busy right now.

  You’re an independent little cadet, aren’t you?

  Don’t call me that. I have a name.

  Ah yes, Sabine Evelyn Taylor. Lovely middle name, by the way! Daughter of Mitchell and Sarah Taylor. Grew up in DeSoto, Texas and joined the military at seventeen. Exceptional statistics. Driven to succeed.

  How do you know all of that?

  Let me finish, Eve interrupted. As I was saying, driven. Competitive. Lonely. Scared. Phobias include snakes and heights. Afraid to marry the wrong guy, so you never dated. I don’t get that one though. Why are you afraid? Your parents are happy and married for a long time.

  I won’t ever find someone that treats me as good as my dad treats my mom. He says that she is his “heaven on earth” and being without her is what he would call hel -eh hem- hay bale.

  Bravo, my dearest Space Cadet! You learn so quickly! Yes, your dad is an exceptional man. But there is nothing that says you can’t have that same bond with someone else.

  You realize how odd this conversation is, right? We are in space, mentally talking about my lack of men. On a shuttle that is supposed to have only one person on it? Not to mention that my hand went right through your torso? That freaky bit was just a bonus.

  Pshaw, it sounds bad when you put it like that. Now, back to my offer. You are up for relocation and I am here to help you. Your chronological clock just stopped ticking, so we need to be quick. How do you want it? Aneurism? Sling shot into space? Frozen cadet-cicle? Poisoning? I like you, so I am gonna let you choose. The last girl called me Killer for weeks and it hurt my feelings. I didn’t think I had them. But apparently, I do.

  Killer? You are planning on killing me?

  Honey, your clock is up. Creeper-Reaper-time is happening now. Your strand in the cloth of time is snagged and broken. We need to weave you into another, stat! The puzzle piece that is Sabine Taylor is outta place. It’s time to put it in the right box. Get it?

  No! I’m stuck on the “you kill me piece” and, frankly, a little freaked out right now!

  “Sabine, this is Mission Control. You copy?” she heard crackle over the speakers as she stared dumbfounded at the woman in front of her. This was the strangest conversation she’d had in quite some time. Nauseatingly so! she thought and placed her hand over her tummy. It was churning quite indelicately as if she were going to be sick.

  “Yes, Control?”

  “Your heart rate monitor on the suit just went off again. Are you all right? I am going to recommend health evaluation immediately upon your return.”

  “Am I?” she whispered brokenly, staring at the woman with wide, fearful eyes. She could hear her heartbeat as it thumped loudly in her mind. “Am I all right?”

  “Come again? Copy?”

  Shaking her head, Eve stuck out her bottom lip and tapped her wrist. Time’s up, my little Space Cadet. What do you want to do? Cadet-cicle? I can open the hatch and it will all happen, lickety split. Although, the ticker is quicker or so I hear. Last girl was drowned and she was madder than a wet hen. Oh hey, another pun! I love those!

  “What? No! Don’t freeze me! What is wrong with you?” she shouted fearfully, floating back away from her.

  “Sabine, this is Mission Control. Do you copy?”

  Sabine opened her mouth to respond, horrified that no sound came out. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead and upper lip as she tried to take a deep breath. Oh yes, she was definitely going to be sick! The pressure in her chest was more intense than any shuttle liftoff, scaring her to death. Literally. Her chest was thumping wildly with fear. What is happening to me?

  Your time is up. Now what happens next is up to you. Want me to hold your hand or sing to you while you die? How about I sing “Major Tom” or “The Sound of Silence”, both epic songs and so very fitting.

  “What? No!” she tried to say, but nothing came out. She frantically clutched at her chest and the pressure increased. Her racing heartbeat became erratic. Staring at the dark woman’s sympathetic features, her vision began to blur. Waves of nausea washed over her as she grasped for anything, trying to get a handhold. Finding nothing, she floated alone, desperately pulling at her collar and suit trying to ease the weight she felt.

  What do you want, my little Space Cadet?

  I want you to save me… I’m not ready to die! she thought as she
felt herself slipping away into nothingness.

  Chapter Three

  “Wake up, my little Space Cadet,” Eve announced cheerfully, patting Sabine on the cheek. “It’s a brand-new day. The sun is shining and they are coming. You have a heck of a choice to make for your future. Again, I like you so I will let you choose. The aortic rupture was a nice touch. I didn’t think of that one but I guess it qualifies as ‘ticker’, doesn’t it?” she asked, cocking her head to the side like she was listening to someone.

  “What?” Sabine asked, bleary eyed. She felt like she had been beaten to a pulp and then beat up again. “Seriously, what did you say? My ears are ringing and I think I might be sick.”

  “Don’t do that. Just lay back and close your eyes for a minute until your middle ears adjust to gravity again. You shut them off on the shuttle. Now, it’s time to turn them back on.”

  “Shuttle,” she repeated, feeling wave after wave of nausea roll over her. “I was on the shuttle and you popped in.”

  “Here I am, dearie!” she announced emphatically, extending her hands excitedly.

  “Seriously, take it easy with the fake smiles and don’t be so darned chipper. I feel hung over!”

  “Meh, everyone’s reaction is different. Hung over? I haven’t heard that before. I will have to jot this down,” she said, pulling a booklet out of her gown. Staring, Sabine saw that the flat material of her skirt suddenly revealed a pocket. A large square shape began to erupt from the surface of the material as she pulled forth a very old, worn, leather journal.

  “Do that,” Sabine muttered sarcastically, rubbing her temples as she lay there in the dirt. She was pretty sure she hit her head hard at some point. “Jot that shi-”

  “Nope.” Eve cut in quickly, snapping her fingers. “Why does everyone feel the need to put a curse word or two in their vocabulary? Can you not think of a way to describe things differently? I mean, really!”

  Eve paused a moment before continuing. “So, until you can curb your need for those awful, offensive words, I will do the talking. You are no longer in 2017, my little Space Cadet. You’ve been relocated to another time period of my choosing. I am kinda partial to hot cowboys, Wrangler jeans and the old west. Actually, country music itself does the job for me. Give me George Strait, Luke Bryan or Tim McGraw and I am a happy little…” stopping, she gave a quick laugh that put Sabine on edge. “We’ll just say that I am a happy camper, okay?”

 

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