A 3rd Time to Die

by George A Bernstein

  And most troubling, he saw it all, too. As if he were there. The face of Victoria was Ashley’s, only different. Younger, commanding, so vibrant.

  If it were only a concoction of his mind, fed by the vivid colors of her description, then why was he filled with such a terrible rage? Most disturbing was her memories ended with her death, while he continued witnessing their total annihilation as he stood over them, seething with anger.

  This was absurd. Or was it? Could those two people have actually existed over 300 years ago? If so, and he were wrong about past lives, then he may have been a murderer… three-hundred years ago!

  Preposterous.

  There was a way he might check it out. Maybe he would call tomorrow. Did he really want to know if it were fantasy… or truth? He wasn’t sure.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  “Woo-eee!” Ashley whooped, leaning forward, urging the gelding on. She tore around the outside of the white-fenced corral, clods of soft earth hurling from Injun’s hoofs. Craig, astride his big gray, his face splattered with mud, sped after her. Pulling her well-lathered horse to a skidding stop in front of the stable’s huge double doors, she swiveled in the saddle, her face split by an incandescent smile as Craig cantered up. He dismounted, tossing his reins to a waiting groom and hurried to help her down.

  "Your servant awaits your pleasure, m'lady." He bowed.

  Ashley chuckled, tucking a stray wisp of coppery hair behind her right ear. “And a good thing, too, with me in such a weakened condition, so soon after having a baby."

  "Weakened condition!" His eyebrows arched, a sly grin splitting his face. "You led the wildest, most reckless hunt I've ever ridden. I could barely keep up with you. I can’t believe this was your first time."

  Her slate-gray eyes, still twinkling merrily, searched his before she spoke. "Actually…” she hesitated, brow slightly knit, then hurried on. “…it seems I may be a lot more experienced than I thought."

  His grin widened. "Oh?"

  She shrugged gracefully, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

  "I'll tell you later. We having lunch?"

  "You bet. The club grill here does a tasty soup and sandwich."

  "Okay. I’ll get Injun straightened away so the hauler can take him home." She glanced around. "Where’re the locker rooms? Gotta change. That was sweaty work today."

  Craig laughed. "The way you rode, it certainly was."

  Ashley grinned. It had been fun. No longer apprehensive at The Metamorphosis, she understood she was just seeing through the eyes of Victoria Chevalier. Her French persona was bold and confident, more carefree and reckless than Ashley ever was. How could that be, if there were no such thing as past lives. She had taken two books on the subject from the library but had yet to read them. Maybe she better find time to do that.

  She really didn't know what to think, but as Victoria, she spoke French and rode horses far better than she did either as herself. Just machinations of her subconscious mind? That’s pretty hard to believe.

  A groom untacked Injun, putting the gear into the back of her SUV, and was cooling the big red horse down prior to loading him in the commercial eight-horse van. He’d be home long before she.

  Carrying her duffel bag and following Craig's directions, she headed for the ladies locker room. Craig had already disappeared, intending to take a quick shower before coming up for lunch.

  That sounded like a good idea to her.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Craig sat back from the epoxy-covered knotty pine table, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin.

  "Sure do make a juicy turkey burger."

  "Mmmm. Delicious." She sighed, stretching languorously, immensely comfortable, clad in a long, tan leather skirt and a sunflower-yellow, long-sleeve cotton shirt, loose at the throat.

  It was easy to relax around Craig. She gazed out the huge glass wall. Spread before her was the main show ring—fences and mock walls arranged in an orderly procession. A children’s class was schooling their mounts over cavellettis and low jumps. Beyond the ring were endless rolling meadows and geometrically tilled farm land with new stands of corn pushing up. To the North were the open woods of the Forest Preserve, where they had just completed the morning’s fox hunt. What a panorama! Unconsciously, she reached out, placing her hand atop his.

  "Another glass of wine?" he asked.

  She grinned, shaking her head, copper tresses swirling around her face.

  "I'm already a little buzzed. The proverbial 'social drinker.' One drink, and I'm very social." Her smile was a dazzling sunrise.

  He chuckled. "All right, then. Don't want to get you into any trouble at home." The sunrise plunged into a dour sunset, the corners of her mouth turning down.

  "No chance of that. No one home to disapprove."

  Thick, dark eyebrows arched. "Oh? Where's Keith off to?"

  "Back to Louisiana. Supervising the building of their new factory, he says. No calls. No letters. His mistress is undoubtedly down there with him. Having a gay old time, I suppose, if that's possible in rural Louisiana."

  Craig shook his head. "Boy, he's got balls, being so open about an affair. What’re you gonna do?"

  "I don’t know, damn it.” A forlorn sigh. “We haven't had much of a marriage for years. I always blamed myself. You know, the kids, the horse… things that didn't seem to involve him."

  "That's a crock of crap. Your world doesn't have to turn around his every whim. You're both entitled to some time to do your own things."

  "Yeah, my therapist has helped me see that. For the first time, I’m actually considering divorce, or at least a separation. Thing is, I don't want him coming after the trusts Papa left for the kids and myself. Be just like him, especially now.”

  "Look, if he's cheating on you, you can divorce him for cause. I doubt he'd like all that publicity."

  She smiled sadly. "But how do I prove it? It’ll be his word against mine, and Keith can be a very convincing liar. He’s been fooling me for years."

  "I can give you the name of a detective. Honest and very discreet."

  "A detective? Why on Earth would you know anything about a detective?"

  "I've had it with Toni. She's a complete lush, and she'll hop in the sack with anything that has two legs… male or female. I told you we've never had a child, but that wasn't completely true. There was a little boy, five years ago. He… he was born badly underdeveloped." Small tears bloomed in the corners of his soft brown eyes.

  "He only lived a few days. Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. I just couldn't get her to stop. She drank so heavily, it was like she were trying to kill him." He massaged the bridge of his nose, wiping away the tears.

  “Oh, Craig, I’m so sorry. I know how much you want kids. You’d be a really great dad, too.”

  "Yeah, well it might be time for me to move on, too. I… I don't think I could do it, if I hadn't met you.”

  He studied her, then smiled. “There are real women out there, after all, and I'm still young enough to find one and start a family. Twelve years of marriage to Toni has been eight years of torture. So, the P.I.’s documenting all her transgressions. It's absolutely encyclopedic."

  "Do you need that? Won't she give you a divorce, if you ask her? There can't be any value left in your marriage for her either, at this point."

  "You don't know Toni. She craves possessions. That's what I am to her. She just can't let go. Got nothing to do with money. Her family’s loaded. I'll need lots of hard proof to pry her loose, and he’s getting it for me. He can do the same for you, if you think you’ll need it."

  He was very still, watching her.

  Ashley sat quietly for a moment, her head nodding occasionally to an inner voice.

  "Yes," she said, finally, "I guess it may come to that. I don't think Keith would go quietly, either." She placed her long, elegant fingers on his hand, giving a gentle squeeze.

  "You're the first real friend I've had in years, Craig. Knowing you has made getting to this point
a lot easier."

  He took her hand in both of his. "Me, too. We've both learned there's sanity in the world, after all. You mentioned that you're seeing a therapist. That should be immensely helpful."

  "I guess. I'm coming to accept that our problems aren't entirely my fault. Keith’s responsible for his actions. But my last session was really kind of weird."

  "How so?"

  She hesitated, searching his eyes. He wouldn't laugh at her, but still she was reticent. Past lives, imagined or not, weren’t an easy topic. His face was so filled with real concern that it made her decision easy.

  "My therapist regressed me through hypnotism, trying to find the cause of a… a fear I've had."

  "I imagine that could be pretty intense."

  "I'll say." She paused, gritting her teeth. "Considering I landed in a past life."

  "A what!"

  She chuckled, the sound catching in her throat. She cast her eyes down, then away, everywhere but at him. Finally, a soft sigh, her eyes finding his, the bare trace of a smile tugging the corners of her mouth.

  "That was my reaction, but the therapist says there's really no such thing. Just a device of the subconscious to explain repressed emotions and fears. It sure seemed plenty real to me, though."

  "This is interesting. Tell me about it."

  "It was at the end of the Seventeenth Century. We were on a fox hunt, tearing through the woods, leaping all sorts of obstacles. It was glorious."

  "Ha! That would explain why you seemed so experienced on the hunt today.”

  “And the visions I've been having when jumping a course.”

  He nodded. “What else happened?"

  "Something bad. Very bad! It was terrifying to relive it. Not something I want to discuss, but he seemed to think it’s the root of this fear I've had. It's kinda personal, but hopefully, the last session fixed that. No real way for me to know, yet."

  Craig signed the check and they were enroute to the stables as she talked. Stopping near his horse’s stall, she leaned against the gate, kicking at piles of straw. Her smoky eyes filled with tears.

  "Oh, Craig! I feel so… so worthless. Marriage is supposed to be wonderful and last a life-time." Little rivulets slid down her cheeks.

  "Somehow, I still felt I must have done some terrible things to drive him into the arms of another woman."

  "Hey," he cupped her face in his hands, his eyes locked on hers. "You're the a terrific gal. Keith’s the only worthless one in your marriage. He'll be the loser in a divorce, not you. You just gotta decide what's best for you, then be strong about it. You got my support, whatever you do."

  "I'm so confused." The flood gates of doubt ruptured, her words stammering out in rush, between little gasps of breath, as she cried. "I'm not really sure about anything… the other woman… anything. The kids need… a father. They're so… so young. Divorce is so final!"

  She found herself in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder as she wept. He gently patted her back, murmuring soft, reassuring sounds in her ear. Just like comforting a skittish horse. A tiny smile bloomed, despite the salty river of tears.

  "Easy, my darling. Easy."

  He called her darling!

  "This is not the end of the World. You'll figure it out. Find the right answer." Holding her reassuringly close, he murmured encouragement. Her ear tingled at the caress of his breath, flooding her with an unfathomable emotion. The deluge of tears had gone underground. Lifting her head, they gazed at each other. She blinked the last of the moisture from her eyes, able to smile.

  "I don't know how I've gotten along without you. You're such a wonderful friend."

  "You're my best friend, too," he answered, still holding her, their faces only inches apart.

  Their eyes.

  Their lips.

  So close.

  The kiss began softly, growing with increasing passion. A glorious sunrise filling her with warmth, extinguished the darkness of her despair.

  They eased apart, eyes flared wide. She had never felt this way with Keith! Her whole body resonated, and she was lighter than air.

  "My God!" he murmured, as she drew him back into a fierce embrace, their tongues dancing sensually together. Her heart crashed against her ribs, flooding her with electric heat. Finally they drew apart, struggling for breath. He looked furtively over his shoulder.

  She was swamped with the smell of grass and trees, a gurgling brook, the passionate rasp of their breath. A ridge of goose-flesh erupted down her back. Suddenly she was on the edge of panic, frantically searching for danger in the shadows.

  Mon Dieu. Not again!

  Nothing there! No monsters, no whirring instrument of death. But, still the paralyzing fear. Dr. Feldman was wrong. She wasn’t cured. Not yet.

  Holding her at arm’s length, his voice was laced with pain… and something else.

  "Ashley, we can't. Not now."

  She blinked. "I know. I know." Dark red tresses cascaded around her face as she shook her head. This was so perfect, yet impossible. What really just happened? She sighed.

  "We have to resolve our marriages before… well, just before." And why was she still plagued by this paralytic terror?

  "You’re right." He said. "This thing… how we feel toward each other… we gotta put it aside… locked away ’til we figure out what needs to be done at home."

  "How do we feel about each other, Craig?" She clung to him, rubbery legs offering no support, filled simultaneously with passion and the remnants of panic, her heart an air-hammer against her ribs. She sensed she was at a moment she had awaited all her life.

  "I… I love you!” he stammered, eyes wide with surprise. “I guess I've loved you from the first moment I saw you. I just blinded myself to it. It's as if I've loved you forever!"

  "Yes. There’s something… a connection I've never felt with anyone before. Not Keith. Not anyone. I guess that's why it was so easy to be your friend. I… I never allowed myself to think about love, until now. How could I have been so blind?"

  She laughed ruefully as anxiety fell away, like water spinning down a drain. She was calm again. Calm, but strangely empty! There was more to be faced than just their love.

  "We have to ignore what happened here, if we can." She spoke slowly, sifting her thoughts. "Try to solve our problems at home. If either of us decides on divorce, it must be because our marriage can’t be saved. Not because we've suddenly found someone else." She searched his eyes, her heart at full gallop again at what she saw in those inky orbs. He nodded.

  "I guess.” He pushed back a russet lock of hair, planting a tender kiss on her forehead.

  “Anything else would be a permanent burr under the saddle. I may go back to my therapist, too." No way he could ever ignore the utter bliss that had happened here.

  "You've been in therapy?" she asked.

  "Yeah. For a while, years ago. Marriage to Toni isn't easy on my self-esteem. I’ve got a good man who helps me get my head straight."

  "Good. I'm going back to my guy, too. I've got more things to work out than I thought.”

  They continued to talk, holding hands, friendship tenuously reestablished over passion. He walked her to her silver Lexus as they discussed future riding plans.

  Craig had mapped out a training schedule, aimed toward entering some Grand Prix events in the next year. Their bond of horses and jumping drew them painlessly back to a comfortable sense of companionship.

  Thoughts… at least conscious ones… of love and arousal were carefully relegated to hidden chambers in their minds, places where, hopefully, they might be controlled.

  But, in their hearts they knew things were changed forever. And for once, change promised to be a happy event.

  As she drove off, the detective's card in her pocket, heading for a home empty of love and passion, except for her children, her mind lingered on the one thing she could not hide from.

  I was still swamped by The Terror. We were kissing, and I was looking for demons.

&
nbsp; Why, damn it! Why?

  She’d have to see Doctor Feldman again soon.

  That prospect made her very uneasy.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Craig was parked at his mahogany desk, the new quarterly financial report for his mail order company spread in front of him, but unread. Continued attempts at lassoing his concentration, dragging it back to the affairs of his business, were repeatedly fractured by visions tumbling through his head of that glorious week-end.

  What a hunt! What a totally unbelievable day. I’ve never seen anyone chase the hounds with such recklessly glee, as if she’d been doing it her entire life.

  She’s amazing.

  Then a blissful lunch, filled with easy camaraderie. And the story she told! A past life as a French horsewoman. That could explain so many things, if you believed in those things.

  Could there really be past lives? Was he there, too? That might account for their easy camaraderie… the feeling he’d known her forever. That seemed a bit far-fetched.

  The surprising culmination of the day though, was The Kiss.

  Kisses, actually.

  God, he’d never felt like that. Toni’s lips spoke of raw sensuality. Ashley’s filled him with such… what? Jeez, there was no word for it. Thrill, excitement, passion, happiness, blended together into something unimaginable.

  Then a sudden chill, looking over his shoulder, searching for danger in the shadows. Strangely, he sensed something similar in her, as if they both were expecting something evil to occur. Goosebumps ridged his back at the memory.

  Time to sort things out: Toni, Ashley, this sudden anxiety when he held her close. When had their friendship turned to love? No doubt that’s what it is.

  Glorious love, making his heart sing ancient psalms.

  Love igniting his very soul.

  Love for a lifetime.

  Love for eternity.