Edge of Time (Langston Brothers Series) (31 page)

Edge of Time
230

Fourteen

The next morning Craig stood in the doorway, heart aching as he watched Marissa dress. He did not know what to believe, but he would be devastated if at the end of the day he found that she was not fully in charge of her faculties, or just as awful that all the rumors about her were true. Testily he asked, “If you’re from the future, then tell me when the war ends.”

“April, 1865 in Appomattox Courthouse, Virginia.” Her answer came without hesitation. “The Union wins. General Ulysses S. Grant is the commander of the Union Forces at that time and General Robert E. Lee surrenders to him.”

Craig’s jaw visibly dropped. “Lee? Surrender? You’re making that up.”

“Could I possibly make up anything that detailed?”

He opened his mouth to reply and then rapidly closed it. Could she be telling the truth? The progressive ideas about medicine she so often spoke of and the countless times he’d caught her and Genie in the middle of a bizarre conversation
—
Craig still wasn’
t sure what a lead zeppelin was
or what it had to do with a stairway to heaven
—
he
would have to ask her about that someday. And her babbling about a nurse named... What had it been? Nightingale? The name was vaguely familiar, and he was sure he’d heard of a war somewhere in a place called Crimea, but it was only a vague notion.

The tension was thick enough to slice with a knife as they drove in the early hours of morning to collect a very sleepy and thoroughly confused Genie Harris from her daughter’s house.

In further silence the trio drove to the farmhouse, all casting somewhat apprehensive glances toward the woods. Craig’s mood had remained dourly foul and Marissa desperately hoped he would believe them when provided proof of the time travel. The sun was had just peeked over the horizon when they reached the farmhouse and Craig lifted the women from the wagon.

“Where
is this proof you spoke of,
” he demanded before striding into the house without a backward glance.

Genie turned to Marissa. “You told him?”

Marissa shrugged as they follo
wed Craig into the house.
“I had to! It was tell him the truth or let him believe that I’m a Yankee spy.”

“Oh!” Genie’s hand flew to her mouth
. “I can assure you, Craig,
Marissa is not a spy.” Leading the way into the parlor Genie opened the small door located behind the book case and pulled the box containing their futuristic belongings from the safety of its hiding place. Quickly she handed the box to Craig and allowed him to feast his gaze upon the proof of Marissa’s words.

To say he was shocked would have been a gross understatement. Holding Marissa’s driver’s license in one hand and her cell phone in the other, he collapsed back onto the sofa, shaking his head in disbelief. “It can’t be. It is impossible,
impossible
,” he murmured over and over again. After a moment Marissa handed him another picture.

The photograph was amazing, like nothing he had ever seen before.

It was a picture of her and all in color. She wore trousers and a long sleeved shirt
with the words USC Class of 2008
emblazoned on the front. Craig knew of no way for the women to fabricate such evidence but it was still several moments before h
e was able to speak
. Looking at Marissa and Genie he asked warily, “So this is how you knew about the bombing?” Both women nodded. “You’d better start explaining.”

Over bitter cups of Confederate “coffee” the women explained everything they knew until Craig’s head was fairly spinning. Relief that his wife was number one, not crazy and number two, not a spy or a whore was intense but it didn’t make coming to grips with the situation any easier. “Why don’t you use your knowledge to save people’s lives? If you had told me
—
someone
—
we might have saved those poor people down along the shore where the bombardment hit.”

Marissa sat beside him. “Who would have believe
d
me? Certainly not you.”

“She’s right,” Genie nodded in agreement. “My own husband wouldn’t listen to what I knew. He said that whatever I knew about the past was still his future and he was going to make his own way. Besides, anyone crazy enough to believe us wouldn’t be in a position to make much difference and we would probably just wind up in the madhouse anyway.
In any case, we cannot change the future--nor
should
we
. Wha
tever happens, we are part of it. We must
live our lives as though we don’t know anything.”

Craig nodded thoughtfully, grasping his wife’s hand and squeezing it in evidence of his profound relief. “You’re probably right. I don’t necessarily believe the future will be exactly as you say, and there is still a great deal you two don’t know.” Changing the subject sl
ightly Craig turned to his wife.
“In the meantime what are we going to do about the rumor that you are a Yankee spy? This is going to get ugly, fast.”

Marissa swallowed h
ard and looked bravely into his face, eyes shining with life despite her fear.
“Surely if I’m innocent
people
will listen. You are an officer in the Confederate Army after all.”

“This is wartime, Marissa. People don’t think clearly when their homeland is being invaded. When I was with the Army of Northern Virginia I saw people’s homes burned, their crops destroyed, livestock stolen or killed. Innocent people
—
” abruptly he stopped with an inadvertent shudder, shaking his head. Craig turned to wrap a reassuring arm around her shoulders. “I’ll protect you, love, but you have to be careful. Go nowhere unattended and do nothing that could be construed suspiciously.”

After depositing Marissa and Genie at Carolyn’s house with firm instructions not to leave until he returned, he went home to don his uniform and made his way to the hospital. The immense sense of relief he’d experienced upon learning that his wife had not been unfaithful or treasonous was fading and now he was left to wonder, who was Marissa?

S
he did not come his time… W
hat did she think of him? Did she laugh at him and his clumsy attempts to heal people? How was her life different before he’d met her? Discovering the true identity of his wife left Craig with an odd mixture of relief and insecurity
. He was
totally perplexed. Her proof had convinced him, but what to do about his other problems?

He felt as though he’d aged ten years in the space of a week. He felt trapped. The desire to escape grew ever stronger. Hangover be damned, that night he was going to have a drink. Or two. Or maybe even three.
Definitely three…
three would ward off more bad luck.

Edge of Time
230

Fifteen

The n
ext morning Marissa found Craig collapsed over the top of his desk.
Again
. And the man positively reeked of booze. “Where were you last night?”

“Oh, Marissa,” he groaned. “
What do you want? My head…
It feels like it’s going to explode.”

Marissa propped her hands on her hips, anger bubbling in her veins.
I’m married to a drunk!
Well, this was the last straw. “Is that all you have to say to me?”

Craig didn’t respond, merely slumped back in his chair, letting his head roll back on his shoulders.

Mar
issa narrowed her gaze. “Goodbye, Craig.” She
stormed
from the room,
head
held high even as the thin thread holding her together threatened to unravel. She’d vowed never to be wrecked by another man, but
…
it
had
happened, and she would die before letting Craig know it. Her breath came in short gasps and her vision swirled through a blur of tears
.
She stopped in the hall to
press her back against the wall, drew in a ragged breath and held it.

She needed her
mother. Desperately.
She
needed the sort of comfort and understanding that only a mother
could
offer.

“Where are you going?” Craig’s voice sounded with more clarity than she would have expected.
His heavy footfalls sounded as he strode through the study and into the hall.

“Out.” She dashed
past him
, tripping over the length of her skirt in the process.

Even hung over, Craig had stellar reflexes and he looped an agile arm about her waist without missing a beat. “What do you mean, out?” He set her feet on the floor, but continued holding her close to the heat of his rock hard chest. “We need to talk about this. About everything. You can’t just leave.”

“Talk about what?” She jerked away from him, swallowing the burning acid welling in her throat. “That you slept with another woman?
That
I am from a place and time which makes it quite impossible for us to be compatible?
I
t’s obvious you’d rather drown your sorrows in bourbon than talk?”

“
Whiskey
, actually,” he said, sullen.

Her anger flared. “Whatever. It’s becoming increasingly obvious we have absolutely nothing to talk about because you can’t stay sober l
ong enough to make any sense—
or to listen to any.”

She moved toward the door as he tried to take her arm again. “Marissa I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that and I shouldn’t have gone out last night, but after everything that happened yesterday...” His voice trailed off. “And I swear to you again that I haven’t
slept with any other woman
since the day I met you.
Especially not Kirsten.
I swear it on my mother’s grave.”
Devastation lined his handsome face.
“Please, Marissa, don’t go.”

She shook her head and bit the tears back. “Just leave me alone, Craig. In case you didn’t realize I am a woman of the twenty-first century, and women of the twenty-first century do not roll over for lying, cheating, drunkard husbands. Even if they are pregnant.
”
She moved
toward the door.
“
I’m going back to Genie
’s.
”

He stumbled backward, tripping over the bottom step and landing heavily on the stairs. The color drained from his face. “Pregnant?”

“Yes.
” She whirled.
“
Does that make you proud? Fathering two children
with
two different w
omen in the space of a couple
months?”

Silence.

Part of her
wished
to
take back her
cruel words and ugly tone
. She truly did believe Kirsten was expecting a chi
ld, but on the other hand, she could not reconcile that it was
Craig’s.
Was that naivety? Or a sign that he was telling the truth?

“Craig?”
she whispered.

He blinked, but nothing more.

Her heart lodged in her throat, and it suddenly became quite impossible to breathe. His pale stone visage swished in a blurry haze as tea
rs rushed to her eyes. Choking on despair and loneliness she spun
and flew from the house.

*     *     *

For an entire hour, Craig stared dumbfounded at a ding in the wall just to the left of his study door, and at the shattered crystal decanter below it. Pregnant. He’d known hadn’t he? Deep in the back of his mind he’d recognized the signs, but denial was a powerful thing. Through years of conditioning, ‘pregnant’ had become something of a dirty word. He’d lost his mother in childbirth, he’d lost his sister-in-
law to childbirth—worse, he’d been unable to save
her or his nephew. He’d seen countless other disasters due to
pregnancy
. To lose Marissa that way, see her in such pain…

Marissa
. The vision of a beautiful baby with dark hair and dark eyes floated through his mind. “Marissa,” he called, rising from the steps and stumbling toward the door. “Marissa!”

*     *     *

Sitting on the fluffy green sofa at Carolyn’s house, Marissa was convinced she’d been drained of half her bodily fluids through her eyes. The vision of sheer petrified horror on Craig’s face was impossible to banish from her mind and she couldn’t help but wonder, what was wrong with
her
? Didn’t he think her worthy of having his child? She’d been glad to find the house empty. She needed this time alone.

The front door exploded inward.

“Marissa!
” Craig
’s shout jarred her upright.
“Marissa?”

A moment later her husband rounded
the corner. Haggard and out of breath, he’d obviously sprinted half-way across town.
“I’m so sorry,” he gasped
, falling instantly to his
knees before her, reaching for her.

“Don’t touch me.
”
She yanked away from his touch
, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her skits.
“You’re not even happy about
my
baby,” she
sobbed
, turning her face away from him. “Why don’t you just go away and make more beautiful
raven-haired babies with beautiful raven-haired
Kirsten?”

“
Marissa, my love,” he murmured, i
gnoring her demand
not to
touch her,
and gathering
her into his arms.
T
ired and miserable,
she lacked the energy to fight and let his strong arms support her, resting her cheek against his shoulder.
“I
want
to be happy about our baby. I’m trying to be.”

“
Trying
to be happy?” She lifted her head and stared at him from ravaged eyes.
She and had never felt more alone than she did in this moment.
“Trying?
Why is it so difficult for you?
”

“Because
I’m scared to death,” he
stated
, raw honesty glistening in his eyes
.

“Scared?”

“Terrified.”

Marissa shook her head. “Craig, I don’t understand.”

“Marissa
, I love you
.
It’s not being the father of your child that scares me—it’s the thought of losing you.”

Her eyes widened
, heart softening a fraction
. “Lo
sing me?
”

“
Yes
.
” His gaze dropped to her belly.
“If anything happened to you or our baby…” He shook his head, releasing a long slow breath. “I would go mad. My brother, Davy, lost his wife in childbirth, his son too.
I was there. I
t wrecked him.
”

Tentatively Marissa ran a palm down his shoulder. “How awful. I’m so sorry.”

He met her gaze. “No. I’m sorry. My reaction to your news was reprehensible.”

She shrugged. “Well, I might have told you with a bit more tact.”

“It was a bit of a shock,” he said, “and with everything else going on…” He shook his head. “Marissa, forgive me.” He clasped her hands in his, imploring her with his eyes. “I
be
have
d as
a
total ass.”

“Yes, you
did
.”

“I’ve been drinking too much.”

“Yes, you have.”

“All right,
I deserve that.” The flicker of a smile lit
his mouth. “Let me make it up to you. Please, come home?”

Pursing her lips she shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

Devastation reflected in his gaze. “After the way I’ve behaved that’s probably fair. What if I take a day’s leave? Will you spend the day with me tomorrow?”

Sighing heavily she glared at him through a veil of
glittering tear
s
. “What for?”

“So we can be together. Talk.”

She hesitated,
warring within herself. Finally she
nodded briefly. “All right, if you can get the day off I’ll spend it with you.”