Faithfully Yours (The Forever Time Travel Romance Series, Book 1) (10 page)

Chapter 10

Trista's instructions had been clear. 
Stay away from Aidan.
  These words rolled through Faith's mind as she moved down the hillside.  It didn't matter how many different ways she considered the meaning, she knew she would never be able to do as she had been told.  She pulled a leaf from a bush.  The branch snapped back, returning to its original position.  Hopefully, the same fate would not be true for her.  There had to be another way to remain with Aidan. 

Sunlight peeked in and out of the bushy trees and shrubs, spotting the path in an array of soft lines and shapes.  Not watching her footing closely enough, the dirt shifted under her weight, breaking her stride.  Faith's arms flailed the air, and her world skittered off center as she tumbled to the ground.  She landed hard on her hip, and her elbow dug into the compacted soil.  Dirt and debris slid beneath her.  Rolling and twisting, she tried to protect her face from the lashing vines and brambles on her way to the bottom of the slope.  Her punishment seemed to be unending.  Digging her heels into the dirt, she grabbed for bushes and twigs to slow her descent.  A protruding rock stabbed her calf in one final assault and jolted her to a stop. 

Faith lay completely still and gasped short, deep breaths.  Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she hoped blood didn't spill onto the ground around her.  Waiting for her heart rate to slow, she finally opened her eyes.  Clouds floated above her without a single care.  She should have paid closer attention to the path instead of concentrating on her conversation with Trista.  Now, she merely hoped to see Aidan one last time.

Certain that she would live long enough to achieve her goal, she held her hand to her head and pushed herself to a seated position.  A warm stickiness trickled down her calf, and her stomach rolled.  She was only halfway down the hill.  How could she have fallen far enough to inflict so much pain on herself?  Not only did she have to scale the rest of the slope, she had to walk back across the meadow to return home.  She leaned forward, rested her arms on her knees, and considered what to do next.  Brambles and dirt covered her skirt.  She flicked her wrist, dusting debris off of her clothes. 

There was no need to sit on the ground any longer.  She pulled her skirt up and checked her legs.  A few random scratches surrounded a short gash.  It had bled freely at first, but now slowed.  She stood and flexed her arms and leg.  Other than a bruised bottom and the scratch on her calf, she seemed to be whole. 

At least her time travel wasn't triggered by being clumsy or absentminded.  She limped toward the bottom of the hill, working the last of the ache from her hip. 
Time travel.
  Trista hadn't been surprised by the idea.  She actually seemed knowledgeable.  Faith glanced over her shoulder.  Was the old woman of the ridge a traveler also?  That would explain why her appearance had remained unchanged throughout the years. 

Faith stepped the last few feet of the incline and onto level ground.  She walked back toward the meadow, stretching her sore leg forward as far as possible.  She shifted her weight, increasing the pressure on the limb as she paced.  With any luck, she wouldn't limp by the time she returned home.  Although...if Trista was correct, a few bruises and gashes would serve her well.  She could easily see herself falling in love with Aidan, and she hated the thought of distancing herself from him.  The fall would give her time to devise a way to stay with him.

According to Trista, extreme passion would hurtle her back in time forty years to Hank.  She couldn't think of a worse paradox.  In order to remain with Aidan, she would have to keep herself from him.  The image of his chiseled face and broad shoulders entered her thoughts.  Sensual urges coursed through her body, and she blushed at her lustful response.  How could she possibly keep herself from the man who had taken such care of her after she fell from her horse?  The type of restraint she would need was not going to be an easy feat.

****

The brown shingled roof peaked between the branches ahead of Faith.  Her eyes instinctively roamed the property, looking for Aidan.  Somewhere on the acreage, he worked hard to provide a meaningful life for the two of them.  No doubt he would be sweaty and dirty from his labor.  She could imagine him shirtless and glistening in the sunlight, his muscles taut and defined as he wrestled with an immovable obstruction.  She lifted her hair from the back of her neck and fanned her sweat drenched skin. 

When she had left him this morning, he had gone to the barn to repair tack.  She was certain he would go to the fields afterward to make sure the crops were thriving.  Although Trista had told her it wasn't time for her to know more about time traveling, Faith's awareness of Aidan was becoming stronger. 

Movement near the barn caught her attention. The object of her earlier fantasy led his horse from the corral.  She raked her teeth over her bottom lip.  Even from this distance, Aidan's bare torso glistened over at her, reminding her of when she had fallen.  He had been so gentle and caring when he helped her to her feet.  His touch contrasted sharply with the harsh way Hank had tried to end her life.  Faith closed her eyes and encouraged the ghostly smell of salt and body musk to fill her nose.  It took little imagination for her to feel his body heat next to her. 

He shouted a command to his horse, and she looked across the field at him.  Riding bareback, he raced the animal for several yards away from the property line, pulled the beast to an abrupt stop, and then reined him to the left for several yards and then back to the right.  The animal obeyed without hesitation.  Faith smiled with pride. 

Aidan seemed to have a natural instinct with everything he touched.  His ability with the livestock was no different.  The way he put the animal through a series of paces, he appeared to test the quality of his leather skill.  Horse and rider moved comfortably, both seemingly in tune to each other's body language.  Aidan's repairs must have been more than adequate for his upcoming trip to Charlotte.  Faith couldn't imagine anything not bending to his command, including her.  Passion would take him from her.  She would have to find a way to remain here in this time. 

The sun sat in the sky at treetop level.  She had spent more time with Trista than she planned.  Faith lifted her hands and inspected her palms as though expecting something to be there.  Mushrooms.  She had told Aidan that she would search for them.  With nothing to show for a morning of foraging, she would have to improvise with garden vegetables.  There was still enough time left in the day to make a hearty soup.

The garden was laid out to the right side of the house.  Faith walked between the lined rows filled with vegetables, ripe for harvest.  Her lips spread wide as she followed a curved path.  One of the rows bowed in the center before realigning with the potatoes and radishes. 

She bent down and filled her skirt with a variety of beans, carrots, and potatoes.  This was a good base for a soup, but she wanted to add something more.  A half row of kale wavered in the breeze, seeming to wave her over.  She reached her hand to pull free a leaf from its stalk, but stopped as a shadow enveloped the ground around her.  Aidan lowered two ears of corn in front of her face, the cobs looking like yellow fangs. 

She reached up and took the vegetable.  "Would you like corn in your soup?" she asked, adding the ears to her bounty.  She turned and lifted her hand to her brow, shading her eyes.  Sunlight ringed Aidan's head like a crown. 

"I would," he answered.  He bent down in front of her and looked through her selection.  "No mushrooms?" he asked.

Faith looked down at the ground, unable to look him in the eye with even a slight untruth.  "No," she said, not wanting to commit herself to a full fledge lie.  "But our meal will still be delicious."

"You could serve burned bacon and eggs and I wouldn't mind.  You are here with me, and that's all I care about."

Faith pulled back as his words repeated in her thoughts.  Hank had not been so receptive of the same meal.  She stared over at Aidan, considering the man in front of her.  He plucked a tomato from the vine and dusted it on his thigh.  Taking a big bite, juice dribbled from the corner of his mouth to his chin.  He wiped the back of his hand against the seedy stream and then held the fruit over to her. 

Faith gazed up at him and bit off a piece of the meaty flesh.  Nothing had tasted more delicious than this tender morsel.  She touched his wrist to keep him from pulling his hand away and sank her teeth deeper into the offering. 

He smiled down at her.  Lines formed at the side of his eyes, enhancing warm playfulness.  He actually meant what he said.  Chewing on her appetizer, she reached her hand to his cheek.  He had shaved this morning before going out, but soft bristles sprouted on his cheek. 

"I feel the same way about you," she said.  At least that much had been the truth.

The light in his eyes sparkled to a dangerous glint and he pulled her to her feet.  He gathered her into his arms, and she released the bottom of her skirt.  Assorted vegetables fell to the ground around them.  She breathed in, confirming her earlier assumption.  He smelled of salt and musk.  These were two odors that she hoped would be with her when she died. 

Her arms slid behind his back, and she offered no apologies for her possessive hold.  His warmth drew her cheek to his chest as though the heat fused them together.  She sighed, and her breath fluttered his short, brown hairs.  Beating under her ear was a rhythm that held her fascination in a way that no composer could ever orchestrate. 

She turned her face to him and pressed up on her toes.  If she didn't taste the fullness of his mouth soon, she would wither away.  Trista's warning echoed in her distant memory, and Faith wrenched away from it.  She had kissed Aidan several times without disappearing.  Surely another kiss would not send her into a temporary hell.  The lack of his touch, on the other hand, would be torture beyond anything imaginable. 

From the eagerness in which he met her lips, he felt the same way as she did.  She opened her mouth and held him tighter.  His tongue brushed against hers and a tingle swept over her.  Faith gasped and pulled away.  She wiped her finger along the outside of her mouth, and stared up at him.  Never had such a sensation shaken her.

"I'm sorry," he said.  He covered his mouth with his hand.  "I pulled a sprig of mint on my way from the cornfield.  I wasn't aware of your aversion to it."

His breath was the least of her concerns.  Her body had trembled when they kissed.  The shudder must be the start of her leaving this time and Aidan.  Faith bent down and scrambled to collect the strewn vegetables, her fingers still tingling.  "I should get these on the fire," she said.

Aidan reached for her, and she pulled away.  "We can eat them raw," he suggested.

Faith flinched and kept her attention on the ground.  It would be hard to refute his valid point.

Aidan stepped closer and reached for her arm.  Faith was certain she teetered close to the edge of her resolve.  "How thoughtless of me," Aidan said, his voice soft and filled with concern.  "Your fall.  You must still be in pain."

Faith shook her head.  Her hand trembled as she touched her forehead.  "I don't know what I was thinking.  I shouldn't have..."  She brushed past him and headed toward the front of the house. 

"There has to be a way," Faith mumbled in desperation as she entered the cabin.  Tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

Chapter 11

Late into the night, Faith slipped from inside the cabin and onto the front step, quietly pulling the door closed behind her.  There was no need to wake Aidan with her agitation.  He had done nothing to jeopardize his sleep.  Their dinner had been eaten in silence, after she refused to answer his questions about her bewildering state.  She still didn't know how to explain her behavior in the garden.  He had stormed into the bedroom, reluctantly giving her time alone.  From the main room, she could hear him walk the floor in strong, even strides.  The restless noise had quieted an hour ago.

Barefoot, Faith walked toward the large oak tree that shaded the south side of the property.  With the tree's roots so close to the surface of the ground, it was an unusable plot of dirt, good for nothing other than shade.  It was doubtful she would find any answers to her dilemma on top of the uneven soil. 

Aidan was literally the man of her dreams and somehow, she had actually manifested herself into his life.  Still unsure if she believed Trista's explanation of how this had happened, she knew she would do whatever was necessary to stay with Aidan, and more importantly, stay with a man who loved her. 

The tingling feeling she had experienced in the garden had more than startled her.  The numbing sensation seemed to physically pull her away from Aidan.  She wondered what would have happened if she had allowed herself to continue in the bedroom what she had started in the vegetable patch. 

There was no denying the attraction she and Aidan shared with each other.  She slapped her shoulder, hoping to kill a determined mosquito.  In all actuality, she had stopped kissing Aidan earlier today because she feared Trista was right, and she would be transported back to Hank.