Across the Winds of Time (31 page)

The wind—blowing as strongly as it did in the twenty-first century—buffeted me, and I braced myself against it. My hair flew behind me, and I smiled, letting the stiff breeze carry my worries away.

“Molly.”

I heard a voice behind me, and I swung around, thinking it was Darius.

And I saw her.

She came forward with her hands outstretched.

“Molly... You are here.”

I stared at her aghast. This was definitely a ghost. I was certain of it. My shoulder burned, and I clutched at it.

She had the same hair as I, though hers was caught up in a bun at the back of her head. Tendrils escaped at the back of her neck and blew in the wind, as did the folds of her dark gray skirt. A white shirtwaist blouse with a high-necked lace collar set off her lovely pink cheeks. She smiled with full, generous lips. Dark eyes sparkled as they regarded me.

“I don’t understand,” I murmured. I dropped my hand and allowed her to take both of mine in hers.

“I know you are confused and frightened, Molly,” she murmured. “I wish I could understand what is happening as well.” She shook her head. “But I do not. I only know that as I lay dying, I seemed”—she paused and scrunched her face as if searching for the right word—”unable to go beyond the light. As if I could not leave. I saw images—Darius...and you. Though you looked different, I knew you and I were the same. If I did not believe it was impossible, I would say that Darius willed me—and you—not to die.” She grinned. I recognized the grin as my own.

I loved looking at her. She was just so beautiful—much more attractive than I. I was certain I didn’t have that sparkle in my eyes—or if I did, it had been some time since I’d seen it.

As if she read my thoughts, she tilted her head and smiled.

“You look just like me, Molly. We are the same person...but centuries apart. He loves you...us. I am not the
other
woman. I am you.”

She ran her gaze down my legs—as did everyone in the nineteenth century, it seemed.

“And you are not bound by the demure, voluminous skirts as I was in my time!” Her eyes sparkled with delight.

I matched her chuckle. We sounded like an echo as we giggled.

She sobered up and cocked her head for a moment, as if listening to something I could not hear.

“I must go, Molly. Darius returns to the house. He is looking for you.”

My face fell, and she seemed to read my mind again.

“Molly, he loves both of us. I am you in the nineteenth century, and you are me in the twenty-first century. We do not exist separately.”

“I don’t understand,” I mumbled as I shook my head.

“I am afraid I do not understand either, my other self. But it is true. I have been waiting for you.” She looked around and raised a graceful hand. “I cannot leave this place, it seems.”

“It does. How did you die, Molly? Exactly.”

“I think you have probably heard much of it. Jack shot me...in the shoulder. He could not understand that I did not wish to marry him, and he came to my home one day. No one could have predicted that he would go to such great lengths to keep Darius and I apart.”

I clutched my shoulder again, the ache springing up once more.

Molly looked at me and put her hand on my shoulder as Darius had done. The pain eased immediately.

“I am so sorry it still hurts. Perhaps when all is resolved, the pain will disappear. You should not carry this burden for me.” She frowned and looked over my shoulder into some distant place. “I knew how volatile Jack could be. Darius wanted to take me away, but I would not leave my parents. And I waited too long.”

My throat ached from holding back tears.

“I’m so sorry, Molly. I’m so sorry that you were not able to live out your life. Darius misses you so much.”

She returned her gaze to me.

“There is no one to miss, Molly. I have never gone away. I am reborn in you.”

I shook my head without understanding.

Her eyes sparkled again, and she grinned as she grabbed my hand.

“Come! Let us fly. I used to do this often, and I know I still do it through you. I have seen you.”

She whisked me away to the edge of the hill.

“Together!” she called to me as the wind almost drowned out her voice. I watched her raise her arms, and—like my dream—she held them aloft as the wind grabbed at her hair and gray skirt. I grinned and raised my arms as well. The wind felt wonderful, invigorating, soothing, and I relished the companionship of my other self.

We let our fingertips touch as the wind blew around us and through us.

Molly dropped her hand with regret.

“You must go. Darius is at the house. He is searching for you.” She took my hands in hers and whispered in my ear. “Take care of him for me...for us. I will not send you empty handed.” She laid her warm cheek against mine...and myriad pictures flashed through my mind. Scenes of Molly and Darius laughing together, walking hand in hand, the picnic they had in this meadow, their first kiss—which was exactly like our first kiss, or what I thought had been our first kiss.

Molly had given me the gift of her memories with Darius.

She released my hands and straightened, seeming to move away although I didn’t actually see her take a step backward. She grinned, and—in an unexpected gesture—blew me a kiss. Something I myself might have done.

“Goodbye, Molly.”

“Wait!” I shrieked as I realized that her image was disappearing. “Wait! Don’t go. Darius will want to see you.”

And she was gone. I couldn’t see her any longer.

“He has you now, Molly—and you are me.” I heard her voice on the wind. And then she was gone.

I scanned the cemetery for her, but couldn’t see her anywhere. With a sigh, I turned to face the valley once more. I raised my arms, wishing I could take flight for a little while as I recaptured the memories she had shared with me.

With a sigh, I turned to walk back across the cemetery—uncertain if I would tell Darius about meeting Molly. It seemed so far fetched. Would he believe me?

I’d been staring at the ground as I walked, and I looked up. Dark smoke billowed up over the tree line ahead of me, and I smelled burning wood. Something was on fire, and it came from the direction of the house. I broke into a run and flew into the trees, slipping and falling as I scrambled down the slope. I felt the heat before I came out of the trees, and when I emerged onto the lawn of the house, I recoiled for an instant from the onslaught of the scorching blaze. The house was on fire. Flames billowed out of the kitchen window, and I screamed as I rushed forward.

“Mrs. White! Mrs. White!”

I couldn’t get very close to the house because the flames shot out of every window and enveloped the porch.

“Miss Sara! Miss Sara! Over here.”

Over the roar of the fire, I thought I heard her voice across the lawn. She stood at the end of the driveway near the road. I ran across the lawn, giving the house a wide berth because of the flying embers and falling debris. The heat was intense.

“Oh, Miss Sara! There you are!” Mrs. White grabbed me in an embrace, and I hugged her back with relief.

“Look what that James has done,” she cried. “I was half a mile down the road when I saw him galloping away from the house and dark smoke behind him. I screamed at him, but he didn’t pay any attention, and I ran back to the house.” She sobbed as she struggled to stay upright. I kept an arm around her while I turned to watch the wonderful house burn. There were no sirens. No fire trucks would come rushing to put this fire out.

“I’m so glad to see you safe,” I gasped. “I thought you were in the house.”

She turned to me with a wild-eyed stare.

“Mr. Ferguson ran into the house. He rode in on his horse as soon as I arrived. He was looking for you. He asked where you were, and I didn’t know if you had returned from your walk.”

I barely heard her last words before I wrenched myself out of her arms and ran for the house. She grabbed me by my arm and pulled me back.

“Let me go,” I screamed. “Let me go. I have to find him. I’m not in the house,” I screamed even louder, hoping Darius would be able to hear me above the thunder of crashing debris.

“Sam, George, thank goodness you’ve come,” Mrs. White kept a vice grip on my arm while I fought her. I barely noticed an older gray-haired man and a younger twenty-something man who’d arrived, panting and out of breath. “Help me with her. She’s trying to get into the house. Mr. Ferguson went into the house to look for her.”

“Darius! Darius!” I screamed over and over, almost completely immobilized as the two men took over holding me by every means possible including by my shoulders, my waist, and my arms. I couldn’t breathe. Desperation robbed me of oxygen as did the smoke from the fire.

“He hasn’t come out yet, George. I’m afraid...” Mrs. White didn’t finish. And I kept screaming, and choking and gasping.

“Take her away, George. She can’t breathe from the smoke. Take her out onto the road. There is nothing we can do. The house is gone, and I don’t see Mr. Ferguson anywhere.” Mrs. White started sobbing herself.

George and Sam pulled me backward, trying the best they could not to hurt me, but I fought against them with every ounce of my being to try to get back to the house. Darius could not be dead. He just couldn’t be dead!

They pulled me off the driveway and out into the road. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw more people running toward the house, just before the kaleidoscope began.

“Don’t,” I tried to scream. “I’m going to disappear. Don’t take me out to the road,” I shouted, though my voice sounded far away, even to me. “Take me back. Darius!”

I felt myself slipping out of George and Sam’s hands. Their faces took on similar horrified expressions. The last thing I saw was Mrs. White’s shocked face silhouetted against the backdrop of the burning house.

****

I must have fainted this time, because my first impression was of lying curled in the fetal position in an unpaved road—the road that ran in front of the house. My second impression was of the bitter smell of burning wood. My throat ached, and I coughed, wondering if the smell was in my clothes.

The fire! I scrambled to my knees and jerked my head in the direction of the house.

It stood! It still stood—and it looked exactly the same! The same faded pastel colors of turquoise and salmon pink begged the onlooker to take notice of its more festive days. The same peeling weathered and dingy white paint adorned the wraparound porch.

And Sara came running out the front door, shouting at me, although all I could hear at the moment was the pounding in my heart and the roar of a fire from over one hundred years ago.

I stood on shaky knees as I watched her trot down the driveway. Darius was gone. He was gone—dead in the fire. But the house still stood. Had there been a fire? Had Darius been real? I felt so confused, and I sank to my knees in the road, sobs shaking my body.

Darius... Darius, I moaned silently.

“Molly! Where have you been? What happened to you?” Sara reached me and tried to pull me up, but I must have been dead weight, because she gave up trying and came down on her knees beside me.

“Molly!” she cried as she pulled my hair back from my face to look at me. “What’s wrong, honey? What happened?”

I hugged myself and rocked back and forth, moaning.

“Darius,” I sobbed. “Darius.” I had no other words. Darius was dead...or he was a figment of my crazed imagination. Either way, he was not with me. He had not traveled with me, and I had no way to get back to him.

“Molly, honey, let me take you to the house. At least, let me get you off the road.”

I resisted when Sara tried to pull me up—as if by leaving the road, I left my last best chance to get back to Darius. What if I left the road, and the “window” to travel in time closed?

“I can’t leave the road. I have to stay here,” I muttered feverishly. “If he comes back, I have to be here.”

“Are you talking about Darren, Molly?”

I pushed my tangled hair back off my wet face and grabbed her arms as I stared at her.

“His name is Darius, Sara. Darius. Do you remember him? Do you remember Darius?” I whispered hoarsely.

Sara frowned. “What’s happened, Molly? Where is he? Did something happen?”

“What do you remember?” I gave her a slight shake. “What do you remember about him?”

“Molly, stop it. You’re hurting me.” She loosened my grip. I barely registered that Marmaduke paced back and forth at the entrance of the drive. “What are you talking about? What shouldn’t I remember?”

“I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I’m sorry, Sara. Everything is so mixed up right now. I feel like I’m in a nightmare.”

She rose to a standing position and managed to pull me to my feet as well.

“Well, so do I! You’ve been gone for five days. Just like that!” She wrapped one arm around my waist and held my elbow with the other while she pulled me out of the road. “I didn’t know what to do when I saw you disappear!”

“Did you see Darius disappear with me?” I could only focus on him. I let her propel me forward toward the porch. Marmaduke ran back and forth around our legs as we moved.

“Yes, I did. Both of you.”

We reached the porch and I made my way to the love seat where I dropped onto it. I didn’t think I could face going inside.

Sara sat down next to me and took my shaking hands in hers.

“What happened to you? I didn’t dare call the police. I didn’t know what to do. What would I have told them?” she asked with a lift of her shoulders.

I shook my head and gave her hands a squeeze, grateful for small favors.

“I’m so glad you didn’t. I knew you’d be upset and worried, and I tried to get back here as fast as I could, but Darius...” I bit my lip in an effort to stop the shaking in my jaw. “I can’t believe I was gone five days though. It was only overnight.”

Sara frowned and pressed her lips together. She peered into my face as if to divine an answer.

“Where is Darius, Molly? What happened to you guys?”

I swallowed hard. My throat ached so bad...maybe from holding back tears...maybe from the fire. If there
had
been a fire. I turned to look at the peeling porch railing where Marmaduke perched watching us with interest. It certainly didn’t look as if it had been burnt and repainted. The ferocious fire I remembered would have left nothing standing. Had it only been moments ago?