Across the Winds of Time (16 page)

“Rubber shoes. Surely, they had tennis even in your day.”

“Well, certainly they do. But I have not heard of these rubber shoes.”

I allowed myself a short laugh. Relief made me giddy.

“Well, let’s go into Council Bluffs tomorrow morning and get you something to wear. Did you have something to eat while I was gone?”

Darius’s blue eyes widened. “Council Bluffs? That’s quite the journey. Will we be staying the night?” He checked his pocket watch. I wondered how the watch could still work after all these years.

“It will take several hours to get to Missouri Valley, supposing that we can get a conveyance,” Darius continued as he studied his watch, “and then another hour and a half to the city from there which will, of course, depend on your modern train schedule.”

I laughed to myself as I put things away in the refrigerator. Before I turned around, I pressed my lips together to compose my face.

“I’ve got a car, Darius. You’d be surprised how fast we can get to Council Bluffs from here. I’d say not more than an hour one way.”

“An hour?” He shook his head slowly and regarded me with amazement. “That seems difficult to believe. Very well, then. Tomorrow it is!”

“First thing,” I promised. “The electrician is coming in the afternoon, and we’ll have to figure out where to stash you while he’s here.”

“By stash, I suppose you mean hide.” Darius grinned. “I could always wander up to the cemetery once again,” he teased. “I feel very comfortable up there.”

I huffed and turned a shoulder to him.

“Very funny,” I muttered.

Darius laughed and changed the subject.

“I examined the house while you were gone, and I have decided on a course of action for the necessary repairs. Shall we review my proposals?”

For the next few hours, Darius walked me around the house, inside and out, showing me what he thought needed to be done. I trusted his judgment implicitly. Though he’d built the house over a hundred years ago, it seemed likely that the fundamentals of carpentry hadn’t really changed.

I looked forward to the sight of him with a tool belt strapped around his waist, hammer in hand with a hardhat perched atop his chestnut waves. Something like a calendar pinup. The macho image, though, soon evolved into another vision of Darius tangled up in the cord of a power saw. I couldn’t repress a grin, and I refused to answer Darius’s questions regarding the source of my amusement.

Darkness descended, and I made my way into the kitchen to eye the microwave and contemplate whether it could hold up under the strains of heating dinner. I ogled the new electric stove and wished the hours would roll by so the electrician could do what he needed to do and get it hooked up—along with my washer and dryer in the alcove off the kitchen.

Darius could be heard knocking on walls on the second floor, presumably looking for studs. I had rounded up some paper and pencil for him to start writing notes and listing supplies.

My cell phone rang and I ran into the living room to retrieve it from the depths of my purse.

“So, how’s it going?” Sara asked when I answered. I plopped down onto the sofa, forcing Sassy to open one eye from her roost on the top of the couch. Though Sara couldn’t see me, I know I blushed foolishly.

“Good!” I said in an unnaturally high voice. I tried to tone it down. “I went out with Laura and Cynthia today and met some of the local folks, got some groceries, hired a guy to renovate the house, and—”

“What!”

I was hoping to breeze through that portion, but Sara was quick—or maybe she was used to listening for anything out of the ordinary when it came to me.

“I hired a guy. I haven’t seen him yet or anything, so I don’t know if he’s going to work out...” I rapidly ran out of lies.

“Good gravy, you’re moving fast. Well, just make sure he’s licensed and bonded.” I swore she must have been related to Hardware Bob in another life.

“Yes, Mother. Speaking of which, how is she? How’s the cruise going? Have you heard?”

“Not a peep. They’re too ‘frugal’ to call from somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, you know.”

Sara laughed, and I smiled at the true words. I heard Darius’s continued tapping, and I covered the phone with my hand.

“At any rate, I’m sure they’re having a good time,” Sara said.

“Well, maybe Mom. Somehow, I don’t see this as Dad’s cup of tea.”

“So, how was your first night in the house?” Sara asked.

I thought of my eventful first night and opted for at least one truth. I hated lying to my sister.

“Well, the orange cat, Marmaduke, certainly made a commotion last night. I guess he’s out sowing his wild oats while he can because I’m having him neutered next week.”

“Poor kitty,” Sara murmured. “Still,” she sighed, “if he wants to be an indoor cat, it’s the best thing for him...and you.”

“Well, I can’t be responsible for little orange kitties over running the neighborhood,” I said dryly.

I heard Darius’s footsteps on the stairs, and I covered the phone again. He appeared on the stairs, streaks of dust on his white shirt and a smudge on his face. I held my finger to my lips. He stilled at the bottom of the steps and tilted his head with curiosity.

“So, what are you doing?” I asked Sara, hoping Darius wouldn’t speak. I was out of luck.

“I am just getting ready to wash up,” he said, and I jumped to my feet and pointed to the phone while making exaggerated faces and shushing gestures in what must have seemed like a bizarre mime performance.

“Did you say something? Wait, let me turn my music down,” Sara said.

“I asked you what you were doing,” I repeated with relief that she hadn’t heard Darius’s voice. He, in turn, shook his head in confusion but finally seemed to understand that I wanted him to be silent. He approached me tentatively, and I took a step backwards, trying to remember what I had asked Sara.

“Oh, I’m just reading a book. Brad is out of town at an engineering conference, so I’m having a single girl’s night out with a romance novel.” She laughed.

I froze as I could back up no further with the couch behind me, and Darius continued to approach. He came to stand beside me and bent his head near the phone. It occurred to me that I was having my own girl’s night out with a romance novel—only mine was standing right next to me

“Molly? Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here,” I said as I smiled up at Darius who looked at me and back to the phone again. “What did you say you were reading?”

“Well, it’s a time travel romance. Do you ever read those?”

“Once, a long time ago,” I mumbled, distracted by the feel of Darius’s breath near my cheek. “I can’t remember the author, but I loved the story.”

Darius raised his head, startled and voiced a silent apology, having realized he was listening in on someone’s conversation. He turned to leave, but I caught his arm. Not only did I enjoy watching him see and experience new things—like the phone—I thought it was a fine excuse to keep him close.

“So, what’s this one about?” I asked as I inhaled Darius’s scent.

“Oh, this gal travels back in time to the Victorian era. Something about boarding a train which has some magic power to transport her in time. Then she meets a handsome man and falls in love.”

I grinned, reluctantly letting go of Darius’s arm as he bent his head near me again.

“And then what? Does she stay with him or go back to her time?” I murmured.

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far,” Sara said.

“I wish we could travel through time. Wouldn’t that be great?” I heard myself sigh. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Darius turn a curious look on me.

“I don’t know. Why? Don’t tell me you think you have to travel in time to meet Mr. Right?” Sara chuckled. “Are you looking for a Victorian man? Is that what you’ve been holding out for all these years?”

I blushed, and decided Darius had heard enough. I moved away from him, and he understood. He nodded and retreated to the stairs.

“No, I don’t think so. Maybe,” I said, barely paying attention to the conversation as I watched Darius climb the stairs. As if he knew my gaze followed him, he glanced over his shoulder and threw me a brash grin before he disappeared from sight. I sighed. And said the first thing on my mind.

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

“What?” Sara asked as if she thought she’d misunderstood.

I sank down on the sofa once again.

“Do you believe in ghosts? You know, people that come back from the dead.” I shivered. I wasn’t explaining it well. “Not like white and pale and spooky, but people who...well, like your book...travel through time. Maybe for love?”

Sara coughed. “Well, let me put it this way. I’d be more inclined to believe in time travel than I would in ghosts. Does all this ruminating come from living so close to a cemetery?
You
picked the house, sis.”

I forced a chuckle, albeit a high-pitched one.

“I love that cemetery.”

Sara grunted in response. “Well, listen, I’m going to get back to my time travel to see what happens. I’ll keep you posted on the outcome. You’re welcome to your ghosts.”

“I have to admit,” I chuckled again. “I’d rather meet a man who traveled in time myself. Even if I do live near a cemetery.” I said goodbye and hung up.

I heard the moaning and groaning of the pipes upstairs, though it sounded more like the sink than the bathtub. At least, I hoped so. I was going to try to make dinner soon.

I pulled my knees up under me on the couch and rested my chin on them. The conversation with my sister had given me food for thought.

Time travel, I repeated silently. If only time travel were possible. Then Darius would be...alive, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t be a...a ghost.

I felt a corner of my mouth lift. If ghosts were possible, then why wasn’t time travel? Who said Darius had to be a ghost? That he was out of the ordinary, there was no doubt. That something supernatural was at play also seemed a certainty. But there really was no evidence that he was a ghost. Was there?

My heart thumped against my chest.

Wait, now, Molly. Don’t start imagining things. Either way, it’s all too bizarre. Why couldn’t you just fall for some nice lawyer or doctor who was born in this century?

I shook my head and jumped up to head for the kitchen, muttering silently.

Time...Time...Time was all I had. Time would tell. Time heals all wounds. All it takes is time. Time in a bottle.

A peek into the still near-empty refrigerator settled the menu for dinner as soup and salad. I hoped Darius liked tomato soup. I would have to do some major grocery shopping in Council Bluffs. The local store simply didn’t have the room to stock a large variety of food.

I heated up the soup, standing guard over the microwave and begging it to hold out for a few more minutes. It managed to do so, and I threw a salad together and set it on the table along with some sliced bread from the store. I loved French bread but had a daunting feeling that my favorite foods would not necessarily be available in this small town. I couldn’t imagine special ordering through Sally.

“Darius,” I called. “Dinner is ready.”

As if he’d been waiting for me to call, Darius clattered down the stairs and appeared at the kitchen door, smelling of soap. His hair was neatly combed and his coat, slacks and shoes were clean and free of dust. I studied him thoughtfully, Sara’s words playing in my mind. His clothing looked brand new, though he’d been living in the same things for the last few weeks. Surely, a ghost’s clothing would have a musty smell at the very least? Wouldn’t the garments look old, cobwebby, tattered? I lowered my head with a wry smile, cursing Sara for putting even more confusing ideas into my head.

“What was that contraption you spoke into, may I ask?” Darius asked as he pulled a chair out for me. I blushed—feeling quite the lady of the manor—and took a seat with a murmur of thanks.

“It’s called a phone. It used to be called a telephone, but now we just call it a cell phone.”

“Ah! I heard rumors of such an invention, but have not seen one. And you talk to people who are not here with it? How exactly does that occur?”

I grinned when I saw Darius searching for a napkin. No doubt, he was looking for something in linen. I pushed one of the squares of paper towels that I’d brought to the table for just that purpose.

“Here! Your serviette,” I chuckled.

He glanced up at me, raised one eyebrow and laid the paper towel across his lap with aplomb as if it were made of the finest Brussels linen edged with lace.

“Yes, of course,” he murmured.

“I don’t know how the phone works, exactly. Cell phone towers communicate with satellites in space which send signals all over the world to other cell phone towers?”

“I beg your pardon?” Darius, who’d been in the act of picking up his spoon, paused to stare at me with a knit between his brows. “I am quite certain, Molly, that every single word you used was English and yet...I have no earthly idea what you just said.”

I shook my head and gave him a rueful smile.

“I wish I could explain how things work to you, Darius, but the truth is—I don’t know how everything works. I hope you don’t think I’m...” I shrugged, feeling wholly inadequate. “Well, I mean, how does one educate someone who wasn’t born in the last hundred years? But then again, who plans to meet someone from another century?”

Darius’s hand covered mine as it rested on the table.

“Molly. I know how intelligent you are. That is one of the things I loved about you—one of the things I love about you. Only tell me what you can. It is enough.” His smile grew broad and the twinkle appeared in his eye. “And did I hear you finally admit that I was not born in your millennium?”

I delighted in the feel of his hand over mine—the warmth, the strength, the sense of safety I felt when he touched me.

“I’m pretty sure I said century—not millennium,” I smirked, completely bowled over by his touch.

“I stand corrected,” Darius said with a solemn face, although the corners of his lips twitched. He squeezed my hand before releasing it to pick up his spoon.