Lightning Only Strikes Twice (6 page)

Now, where were her shoes? She hadn’t been wearing them in the forest. The little boy, Willie, had looked for them too. Maybe she left them in her car. She hoped it wasn’t too far a walk to where she parked. As it was, the drive to Boise would take at least a couple of hours and it would be dark soon.

Which brought up another question. Why couldn’t she remember driving to White Rock for the celebration? She’d completely forgotten the first part of the day. She couldn’t recall returning to White Rock since…

Since she’d sold the property.

An ache gripped her. She’d sold her grandfather’s land.

Closing her eyes, she shoved the feeling away. It was done. Signed and delivered. She had to move on.

What was it Luke had asked?

He wanted to know the last thing she remembered. Why the odd question unless…Had her head injury caused amnesia? Was that why she couldn’t remember anything?

When had she received an invitation to the celebration? She would’ve had to schedule time from work to attend. In fact, the last thing she remembered before waking up in the forest was being with Luke in the grove, by the tree.

And then that storm…

How many days had passed?

Something must have happened to change Luke’s mind about the ghost town. Maybe some historical preservation organization had demanded a final celebration before the construction project started. The fake town must have been quickly erected, like a movie set.

What had happened to her? How could she have forgotten everything between the day Luke had shown her the development plans and now?

She staggered to the bed and sat heavily.

A soft knock sounded on the door and then it creaked open. Luke poked his head around the corner. “I thought I heard you stirring,” he said. “Mind if I come in?”

He stood silhouetted in the doorway, filling the small frame. The glow from lamplight behind him barely reached inside her room.

When she looked at him, that strange pitch in her stomach happened again. “I guess.”

He stepped inside, leaving the door open. “How are you feeling?”

His face remained in shadows until he pulled a straight-back chair closer and sat. Concern shone in his brown eyes.

“I’m not sure,” she said, hoping the flutter in her chest had nothing to do the bump on her head.

“The doctor left to grab something to eat. Should I get him?”

“No. I mean…I feel fine, physically.” She touched the lump. It was tender. “My headache is mostly gone. I’m just a bit out of sorts.”

“That’s no surprise.” He leaned toward her. “You haven’t processed what’s happened, have you?”

She shook her head. Should she share her concerns with him? She hardly knew the man. They’d barely spoken today, and at their previous meeting, she’d been contrary and impolite. “Did the doctor say I have amnesia? Did I hit my head that hard?”

“I thought the same thing happened to me.” His smile was as gentle as it was devastating.

She tried not to stare. “You’ve lost your memory before?”

“I wish. It would have explained a lot.” He rested tanned forearms on his thighs. “What do you remember before waking up in the forest?”

Annie met his intense look. “You.” She spoke before thinking. “You’re the last thing I remember.” She licked dry lips, embarrassed by her admission. “We were together in the grove, during the storm. How many days has it been since then?”

His brow wrinkled. “You don’t have amnesia. What I don’t understand is why it took you two months longer to get here.”

“Two months?” Annie asked incredulously. “I’ve forgotten two months of my life?”

Luke shook his head. “No, you don’t understand.” He settled back in the chair, his face serious. “How am I going to explain this, when I haven’t figure it out myself?”

His cryptic answers made him sound like he was the one with a bump on the head. Annie sensed his frustration, but it didn’t help her feel better.

“You don’t need to explain anything.” She stood, grateful her legs didn’t give out this time. “I appreciate everything you and the doctor have done. But if you can tell me where my car is, I’ll go home now.”

Luke shook his head with a mirthless chuckle. “If only it was that easy.”

“It is. You don’t have to take me to my car, just point the way.”

He grew serious again. “Annie, sit down. I need to explain something to you.”

She hesitated.

“Please?”

This man was difficult to resist. “Only for a minute.” She sat on the bed.

Luke’s hands clenched then opened slowly as though he’d forced them to relax. “It took me days to come to terms with this situation. I don’t know how to tell you, other than to just say it.”

He cleared his throat and leaned closer, his brown gaze dark. “Somehow, we’ve been transported into the past. You’re…No.
We’re
both in White Rock...1891.”

Chapter Four

Annie sat straight-backed on the edge of the bed in the doctor’s patient room. “Eighteen ninety-one.” She repeated his words in a monotone voice that told Luke she didn’t believe a word he’d said.

He didn’t blame her. If their positions were reversed, he wouldn’t believe him either. He hadn’t believed it when it happened. Even now, he’d awaken in his room above the doctor’s office disoriented, wondering why he wasn’t in his apartment in Boise.

“You heard me.”

“You’re telling me we’ve time-traveled. Into the past.”

“Exactly.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at her like she’d guessed the correct answer to a game show question. This might go easier than he thought.

She shook her head slowly, eyes narrowed as she stared at him like some problem she had to figure out. Then her face cleared, understanding lit up her eyes, and she smiled.

“I get it.” She let out a shy laugh.

The gentle sound wound its way inside him and settle somewhere in his chest. He sat back, shocked at her ready acceptance. “You do?”

“Of course.” She smiled again. “This is a historical reenactment, right? People get into character at these things.” She gestured at the room. “I’m impressed with how you’ve made the Founders’ Day party look so real. The doctor and those kids played their part very well.” She glanced down at her soiled clothes. “I’m sorry I missed the memo about dressing up.”

Luke groaned and buried his head in his hands. Taking a deep breath, he looked up. “No, you
aren’t
getting it.” He leaned toward her again. “This is real—not playacting. We
are
in the past. Eighteen ninety-one, to be exact.” He paused, waiting for his words to sink in. “No one’s pretending.”

The smile fled from her face and without it, the room turned gloomy.

“Okay, Mr. Maxwell.” She stood and swayed slightly. “Whatever you say.” Her face was pale, but she took a breath and lifted her chin. “I don’t feel well enough to join the celebration, so I’m going home now.”

He gave her credit for keeping her cool, but she was about as stubborn a woman as he’d ever come across. “You can’t go home.” He didn’t sugarcoat the hard truth. “Since we’re stuck here together, you might as well call me Luke.”

“We’re not stuck anywhere together,
Luke
.” Her eyes narrowed to points. “Why can’t I go home? Has something happened to my car?”

“Yes. I mean, no.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “Honestly, I don’t know where the hell your car is.”

“Was it stolen?”

“No,” he answered, running a hand through his hair. “This has nothing to do with your car.” Everything he said made things worse, but there wasn’t any other way to have this conversation.

“If my car’s fine, why can’t I go home?”

“Your home doesn’t exist.” He tried to say more, but she interrupted.

“What’s happened to my house?”

“Nothing’s happened. At least not yet. My guess is that it’s still a hundred or so years in the future.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

He swallowed a curse. If he was going to get through to her, he had to stop trying to break it to her easily. “Your home, as you know it, doesn’t exist.
You
won’t be born for another
ninety
years.”

He stood, forcing Annie to look up at him.

Her lips tightened and fear flickered in her eyes.

A wave of protectiveness rolled through him—a feeling he didn’t want to deal with right now. It was time for cold, hard facts.

Still, he reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know how it happened, but somehow we’ve both traveled back in time to White Rock. We’re trapped here.”

Her expression changed from fear to anger. She brushed off his hand. “The joke’s gone far enough. I’ll admit the bump on my head caused me to forget a few things, but I’m disappointed you and the others are taking advantage of my memory loss.”

“I’m not—” He raised his hands and stepped back. “Maybe you should see for yourself.”

“I will.” She stood and headed out the door into the main room.

The wooden floorboards creaked under his boots as he followed. He leaned against the doorjamb, watching her look around the doctor’s little house and saw it again through her eyes.

The main room had a cozy fireplace in the corner waiting for the kindling to spark and take the evening’s chill out of the air. On top of a potbelly stove sat a scorched coffeepot. Blue-and-white china crowded the sideboard next to a lantern. Every piece of furniture a part of history and absolutely genuine.

Annie stopped her inspection and turned to look at him. “I am impressed. This is all very authentic,” she said. “It must have cost a small fortune to build.”

“I didn’t build it.”

“Well, your company, then.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Which way to my car?”

He shrugged. The explanations took more out him than he realized. “I couldn’t say. I suspect it’s back in our own time. With your house.”

Annie studied him.

He could imagine her thoughts. He probably didn’t look like a crazy man, but his words were those of a raving lunatic. Under any other circumstance, he would have applauded her caution. Right now, he just wanted her to understand their situation without putting her, or him, in jeopardy of being hauled off to jail. Or worse, the asylum.

A speculative look came into her eyes. “Suppose, for one moment, I believe you. And we really
are
back in 1891. How did we get here? I don’t own a time machine. Do you?”

Ah. The million-dollar question. He wondered when she’d get around to asking. Unfortunately, he didn’t have an answer—at least not an answer that made any kind of scientific sense.

He crossed to the stove and picked up the coffeepot, needing fortification and stalling for another minute. “There was definitely no machine involved.” He took a cup from the sideboard and poured. The black liquid and rich aroma had become a staple during his stay here.

“So…what? We just closed our eyes and
poof
! Here we are.”

He returned the coffeepot to the stove and looked at her. “I’m sure it was bit more complex than
poof
.” He took a sip and continued. “When I first got here, I thought I was in some sort of lucid dream. As the days passed, and I encountered details at a level that went beyond my own recollection of history, I knew it wasn’t a dream. Now you’re here. I’ve thought of nothing else while you were asleep. I think I’ve finally come up with a theory.”

She folded her arms, waiting for him to continue. “And?”

“You’re not going to like it.” Luke took another swallow.

“I already don’t like it,” she snapped.

No kidding. He took a breath and blurted out the thought he hadn’t been able to shake. “My theory is that somehow your mind willed us back in time.”

She let out a laugh and rolled her eyes. “You’re blaming me for your delusions?”

“It’s not a delusion.” He tried to explain. “Consider this. You have an attachment to this area. You were thinking about your ancestors as we carved your initials in the tree. With minerals in the ground from the mine tailings and the lightning from the storm—” He paused. “Hell, maybe those gold medallions had something to do with it. I don’t know how the science would work. But…well, here we are.”

His hands shook as he brought the cup to his lips and took another swallow. “I’ve never said that out loud before.” He put the cup down on the sideboard. “It really does sound crazy.” Admitting it wasn’t helping his case, either.

Annie leaned toward him and sniffed. “Perhaps you’ve been celebrating Founders’ Day with more than coffee.” She patted her pockets. “Do you know what happened to my keys?”

Luke slammed his fist on the sideboard, rattling the dishes and making her jump back. “Damn it, Annie, there are no keys! There is no car. For all I know, they haven’t invented gasoline yet.”

Apprehension filled her face. “Okay, I’m leaving now.” She glanced behind her.

The door was only two feet away. She turned for it, but before she lifted the latch, Luke grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

She opened her mouth to scream, but he clamped a hand over it. Wide, fear-filled eyes stared up at him.

He swallowed, regretting the actions that caused her fear, but he couldn’t let her go. As he pulled her closer, her breasts flattened against his chest. Warmth spread through his limbs and the constant fuzziness that plagued him since his arrival vanished.

Annie must have felt the change too. She stopped struggling.

He lowered his head. His whiskers scratched her smooth cheek as he whispered in her ear. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. I just need you to believe me.” Without releasing his hand from her mouth, he tilted his head to see her face.

Indecision replaced her earlier apprehension. She nodded slowly.

He eased his hand away and she let go an earsplitting scream.

Damn the woman!

Without thought, he covered her mouth with his.