Edge of Time (Langston Brothers Series) (27 page)

As Genie had predicted, only a handful of Charleston citizens were killed or wounded, mostly nearest the docks, and it appeared the city would go on more or less as before.

Trudging home from the hospital late that afternoon with Craig, Marissa was relieved to see their townhouse had been well out of the way of the catastrophe. Marissa elected not
to mention staying away longer
for the scattered shelling supposedly to take place over the next couple of days.

Craig had been pensively silent since the early hours of the morning and each time he came from the operating room, something in his face sowed a growing sense of unease in her mind. When she reached for his hand he sidestepped swiftly and
clasped his
hands
behind h
is
back
. As they entered the house he didn’t bother holding the door for her.

“Craig, is something wrong?”

“Hodges!” He bellowed for his servant, ignoring her completely. When no one answered, he turned to his study mumbling, “Just as well.” Collapsing wearily into the overstuffed chair behind his desk, he wiped the flat of his palm over his face. Finally, when he met her gaze, the flicker of whatever it was
—
doubt? suspicion?
—
she’d seen in his
e
yes several times during the day had now turned into a dangerous blue fire. It frightened her.

He fixed her with a steel edged glare.
“You knew that was coming, didn’t you.”

She froze, her face blank, as she sat abruptly on the edge of a wing backed chair, staring at him. “What?”

*
             
*
             
*

This is awful
. Craig
stared at his wife as the rumors and accusations clicked into place like all the little gears of a Chinese torture box. A box manufactured for the sole purpose of bending and twisting, contorting, into a weapon to tear his life apart.

“
Carolyn wasn’t suffering from the blues.” He made an effort to keep his voice steady. “You just needed an excuse to get out of our house in case some of the
Yankee shells hit us. You knew,” h
e accused, slumping forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his
head in
his hands. He looked up again. “It’s all true, isn’t it? All the rumors and tales I’ve denied on your behalf. You are a Yankee spy! I’ve been so blind.” He groaned. “God, Marissa, how could you do this to me? I love
d you, trusted you
.”

“No!” she cried. “No, Craig. It’s not like that!”

“Then what is it like? So help me Marissa, if I find out that you helped those blue-bellied
bastards
murder innocent civilians
—
” His words choked off and he was unable to continue for a long moment.
“The only way you could have known to leave the house last night is if you had inside information, and the only way you could have inside information is if you’re… one of them.”

“No, Craig! No!
” Tears filled her eyes, spilling
over her pale cheeks, and it would have been so easy to believe her, except...he couldn’t. “I’m not one of them, I am
not
a Yankee informant. I swear it!”

“Then tell me you didn’t know, Marissa.”

He rose, came to her, and knelt before her, taking
her hands in his hard grip. She
wince
d, and he knew he was hurting her but refused to ease his grasp until he had answers. Her eyes were so tortured… so pained… he looked away, sickened by the inevitable truth.
“Tell me you didn’t know the shelling was coming.”

“Craig, I
—I…
”
She began to cry, her hands cold and clammy, but she did not assure him she hadn’t known.

The fury and dread smoldering in his gut grew to full on anger.
It shouldn’t be so hard, just three little words
I didn’t know. I. Did. Not. Know.
“Christ, Marissa, you can’t even lie to me about it? Bloody hell, I am such a fool.” He dropped her hands in disgust.

“Craig,
”
s
he
croaked.
“I am not a spy. You must believe me. It’s not what you think
—
”

“Bull!” Craig
leapt to his feet,
wrenching himself away from her. He raked
an angry hand through his hair. “So, did you sleep with half of Charleston
as well
? What were you doing in the woods
that day
, Marissa, passing off information? Did you help murder the transport detail?”

Gasping in horror she ran to him and grabbed his forearms. “No! Pleas
e just listen to me for a moment
.”

Throwing her violently off, he shook with
red hot
rage, a fury that became a palpable, living, breathing thing within him. It was bitter and vile as he recognized how she’d blinded him, fooled him, used him. “We both know you weren’t a virgin when I took you to bed the first time. I was willing to accept that there had been someone else. You had been engaged, after all, but I never even asked myself how many other men may have come before me. How many, Marissa? How much of what I’ve heard is true? Tell me!”

“Non
–none of it,” she stammered, quaking beneath his outraged glare. “It’s not what you think. I don’t sympathize with the Union, not necessarily. But, you see I
—
I know things.”

“And you know these things
how
?”

“It’s complicated. I can’t really
tell
you how I know them, but
—
”

“What are you saying, that you’re a witch, a see
ress with visions of the future or some such nonsense
?” His eyes rolled in rejection of the notion. “Oh, Marissa that is just
so
much more believable than your being a Yankee spy.”

“No, I’m not some sort of clairvoyant. I don’t have ESP, I
—
”

“You don’t have what?”

“Never mind, forget I said that. It’s not important. What is important is that now I have to tell you the truth about myself. I should have done it long ago, only I didn’t see how you could possibly believe me. Even now I have only a slim hope that you will, that your love for me, mine for you, will get us through this.”

She beseeched him with her huge dark eyes and a blow full in the chest could not have more powerfully laid him low.
Please God,
he thought,
make this believable. I want to believe her. I love her.

“I’m... I’m from the future,” she said, and squeezed her eyes shut as if to hide from the look of disbelief
s
he knew must be on his face.

“The... future.” Seconds ticked by before he added. “I see.”

Marissa opened her eyes and gazed at him. “No,” she said. “I don’t think you do. I kn
ew it was hopeless to
think you might take me on trust, take my word for something so far beyond the realms of possibility that even I had a hard time accepting it when it... happened. When I was torn fro
m the year two thousand and twelve
.”

Craig stood stock still, staring at her for several moments, and then… he
exploded
.

“
What
did you say?”

“I--I’m
from the year two thousand and twelve
.”

His handsome face twisted in fury as he grasped her upper arms in a cruel vise. “Is this your excuse,
your
explanation
for these accusations? Christ!” He half lifted her off the floor. “I realize I’ve been blind to the truth, Marissa, but I’m a bit more intelligent than to believe you’re from the future. And you could at least have had the decency
not
to marry me!” The rage, now far beyond red hot, pulsated through him, darkened his vision, and he was hard put not to wrap her throat in his hands and strangle her.

“Tell me, Marissa, did you give up the life of a common whore
after we exchanged
vows or do you cuckold me every night I work late? Do you trade favors for information?”

“You’re hurting me,” she gasped, and he shoved her away as though burned.

He’d be damned before hanging for murdering his wife no matter how she deserved it.

“Craig,” she cried desperately. “No, please listen. It’s true! I can prove it!”

“Prove what? Who the hell are you, Marissa?
What
are you?”

“Craig.” Bravely, she forced herself to meet his condemning gaze. “I know how this sounds, but I was bo
rn in 1986, July 8, 1986
in Chicago, Illinois.”

He turned on a heel to leave the room.

She grabbed his arm, refusing to release it even as he pulled away.” When I was three, my family moved to Michigan, and then down here. I’ve lived in Charleston since I was twelve.”

“Get off me,” he growled.

“No, Craig,” she sobbed, frantic. “All those things I know about medicine? It’s because I am a nurse! I went to school
—
university
—
for
four years to become
one, you know, like Florence Nightingale and
—
” She placed a hand over her eyes. “Oh, no. She was from England, but surely you’ve heard of her?” She gazed at his incredulous face. “In the Crimean War? Or how about Clara Bar
ton. She is a nurse for Union troops.
”

“Ah, yes. A
Union
Army nurse. Is that where you learned about medicine? With Clara Barton in the Union Army.”

“
No. I swear it,” Marissa insisted. “When I came here—I’m
not even sure how it happened
—
but I was on my way home from the hospital and I stopped to help some people whose car had broken down on the highway. I called an ambulance for them.
It
left without a problem, but when I tried to leave
my
car
broke
down as if it’s entire electrical system was shot, and my cell phone didn’t work, ei
ther, and there were no lights o
n
in
houses anywhere so I figured there was a huge power outage. I saw some light in Genie’s house, though I didn’t know it was hers, and went there hoping to find a working phone so I could call Triple A, and the next thing I knew I was running into
you
in Genie’s field
and it was 1863 instead of 2012
!”