Bo shook his head. “No, Thor has to do this alone. Besides, your destiny lies on a different path.”
“Say what?”
“Ask him later!” Thor started to jog toward the cabin and the truck that was parked in front of it. “Let’s go!”
Cal’s Bronco covered the rough terrain from the Magnusen cabin to the old Brown spread at top speed. The beauty of the autumn day blurred in their haste to reach the former Underground Railroad depot. Thor’s heart raced as the familiar landscape of the old Brown homestead came into view.
“This is it,” he murmured almost to himself. Willow was there, waiting for him.
With minimal words and mostly gestures, he instructed Cal where to go. In his mind’s eye, he made out the two-story house with its white-rimmed chimney and the nearby barn where Brown housed his rousing Gospel Train meetings. Right upstairs, Willow hid in the tiny chamber where countless runaways had found sanctuary. His heart lurched. He had to get to her before she turned herself in. The truck slowed, and without waiting for Cal to shift the gear into park, Thor bounded from the passenger side and landed with both feet on the ground.
“Shit!” Cal grumbled. The truck came to a halt with a loud screech. The engine died, and two doors opened and slammed shut. “Wait a minute!”
“I don’t have time to wait!” Thor shouted over his shoulder. “You said time’s parallel. That means I have to get back there now!”
“One second won’t hurt.”
Thor whipped around. The three inches that made Thor shorter than his older brother barely registered as the two men stood nose to nose. The wild beat of anger thumped loudly in Thor’s chest. He was better equipped to handle this trip back in time. Why in hell was Cal meddling now? Willow needed him!
“That’s enough,” Bo said, stepping between his sons. He pressed his hands against their chests. “Step back and stop this. You’re acting worse now than you ever did when you were kids. Thor, there was a time when you listened to your brother, and Cal, a little compassion never hurt.”
“I’m compassionate,” he mumbled, his expression sullen. “I don’t get why the knucklehead won’t listen.”
“Maybe because he’s in a
hurry
.” Bo gave Thor his full attention. “You know enough about the time period to know you can’t go in there half-cocked. You gotta have a plan, son.”
“I know, Pop. My plan is to get back there and talk some sense into her!”
“And after that?” Cal asked. “Preventing her from turning herself in could jeopardize the family line. We don’t descend from Anders and Eva’s first child. Their son is our great-grandfather. If Anders dies, the second kid won’t be born. That means all of us will cease to exist: Pop, Aunt Greta, me, and you, little brother. I know you want to save your girlfriend, but you must think about Anders. He
cannot
die!”
The erratic beating of Thor’s heart slowed to normal. Cal’s warning made sense, and the anger he felt toward his brother faded. In the back of his mind, he knew he couldn’t let Anders or Brown take the rap for what happened, but thoughts of stopping Willow took precedence.
This last minute wake-up call reminded him of the enormity of his task. The game that ended his career came to mind in a flash. The lineman sacked him because his eyes had been on the soaring football instead of on the opponent’s defensive players. He paid for that mistake by losing his ability to throw, and that error only affected Thor. If he didn’t pay close attention on his return trip to eighteen-sixty, his entire family would suffer the consequences.
He exhaled a shallow breath. Maybe he wasn’t cut out to handle this after all. He looked from his brother to his father and back to Cal again. “Maybe I’m not the one who should go back. You’re the history professor. You’ll know what to do.”
Cal’s hazel eyes widened. He glanced at their father. Bo shook his head, and said, “It’s not for Cal. You can do it, Thor. A little self-confidence never hurt a man either.”
“Yeah, little brother, you helped free Big Nat from that planter. Rescuing Anders and Brown should be a piece of cake.”
Thor rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“I know I’m right,” Cal quipped. “You can do it. If you can’t think of something off the bat, use one of the playbooks. God knows you got at least a thousand football plays memorized. Quarterbacks are the thinkers on the team. Don’t be such a knucklehead. Use your brain.”
Cal pulled Thor into a hug and patted his back as he released him. “You can do it, Thor. Now go out there and play ball!”
Thor’s lips curved into a half smile. Their encouragement went a long way. He didn’t make it to the pro level by being a half-ass quarterback. He could do it all. Paying attention would be the key. His mouth parted into a full-blown smile. He saluted his family, pulled the watch from his jeans, and ran into the woods toward the space that once held the Brown home.
* * *
The plate of fried chicken, biscuits, and apple pie sat cold on the table. Willow paced the floor, waiting for time to pass. She glanced at the food. The distance into town was long. Food provided strength. Her stomach rumbled from lack of sustenance, but the thought of taking a bite made her throat constrict. Her skirts swooshed across the floor as she turned her back to the food. She could not eat now. The food would have to wait.
Willow paced the floor for several more turns along the length of the wall. The lack of windows made the time of day uncertain. She wished now she had asked Olivia just so she could have a point of reference. So far, no one had ventured to the Brown home while Olivia was away. Maybe Willow could slip out to see if it was dark enough for her to leave. She pondered the possibility of visiting the creek where she and Thor first met. If he found and read her letters, he might attempt to return to her. The thought of one glimpse of him lessened the weight of sorrow in her heart.
The compartment slid opened easily enough as she pulled on the inside latch. Gathering her skirts in one hand, she stepped through the doorway and entered the Browns’ bedroom. Speckles of dust filtered the air where the waning beams of sunlight streamed through the curtains. She edged closer to the window and adjusted the spectacles on the bridge of her nose. The beauty of the woods was a welcomed sight. Remaining hidden away in a windowless room created a whole new appreciation of nature’s splendor.
Everything was still and quiet. Even the birds ended their songs as if they too were grateful for the peacefulness of the woods.
Willow inhaled a deep breath and wrapped her arms around her waist. This was the last time she would be able to take a moment to look through a window and watch as golden leaves fell to the ground.
Sadness brought tears to her eyes, but determination forced her to blink them away. Her decision was made. This was the only way to repay the debt owed to the man who raised her. Cold despair settled in the darkest depths of her soul. Overburdened with guilt, Willow turned to retrieve the uneaten food from the secret room.
Something heavy landed on the porch. Her nerve endings stood on end. Instinct told her to run to the hidden room, but her feet refused to obey. Holding her breath, she moved closer to the bedroom door and listened. She hoped it was a squirrel or another small animal in search of refuge or food.
The front door creaked on its hinges, and Willow’s hope that it was a small animal was dashed. The movements of the intruder were slow and measured. Had it been Olivia, she would have moved quickly and with purpose. Whoever was out there was hesitant about trespassing. Still too afraid to move, Willow whispered the Lord’s Prayer under her breath.
“Dammit!”
The muttered curse traveled down the hallway, and Willow was sure she knew that voice. Should she dare hope? It couldn’t be him; not possibly.
The floorboards protested loudly underneath the weight as the heavy footsteps plodded closer to the Browns’ bedroom. Willow looked around for a weapon. A letter opener lay on the table beside the bed. She scurried across the room and grabbed it. Just then, the door opened.
Time stood still as Thor Magnusen filled the doorway. She barely noticed his attire, albeit similar to what he wore when they discovered each other in the woods that first time. What registered to her first was that he was real and not a figment of her imagination. He was there, returning her unwavering gaze and in the next moment, crushing her to his hard chest. The letter opener fell to the floor. Her arms flew around his broad shoulders, and she held on for dear life.
“Blessed be. I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I made it in time,” he mumbled against her brow. His hold tightened. His arms held her close to him as one of his hands roamed her back and the other wound inside her thick mass of hair. “Dear God, Willow, it feels so good just to hold you again.”
The hand in her hair tilted her head just as his mouth slanted over hers. His tongue bathed her lips with sweeping strokes until her lips parted. With unrestrained passion, he plunged inside her mouth. Willow’s knees weakened. Her fingers dug into his solid flesh in an unconscious move to regain her balance.
Pleasure shot through her everywhere their bodies touched. The hand that roamed across her back slipped down to her backside. His fingers flexed and squeezed her, pressing her against his aroused flesh. A low moan rumbled from him and into her mouth. The troubles that plagued her left the forefront of her mind. Wanton flames of desire consumed her.
He dropped to the bed and pulled her into his lap in one swift movement. His fingers fed the roaring fire of passion as they trailed her cheek, neck, and breast. Clothing presented no barrier. His thumb circled her nipple, the peak hardening upon contact. The thin fabric of her dress slid across her heated flesh in sensuously slow motion. His mouth nuzzled her neck and moved lower. Her lower belly contracted as he unbuttoned her top and suckled her. Pleasure shot through her. The touch and scent of him restored her senses. She feared never seeing him again. Holding him close was sheer joy.
“Blessed be!”
* * *
Thor couldn’t resist Willow’s cry of pleasure. He drew her deeper inside his mouth, his tongue swirling around her pebble hard nipple. Her fingers threaded his hair and held him to her. The grip was so tight he could barely breathe, and yet it was worth it. Tasting her again was worth everything, but there was one thing he couldn’t risk. He planted another wet kiss onto her swollen flesh before lifting his head. Her glasses were foggy and he removed them. He set the spectacles on the bedside table. With only the slightest bit of hesitation, he buttoned her blouse. All the while, his eyes remained locked on her ebony eyes, glassy with desire. Her breathing slowly returned to normal, but the desire in her eyes only dimmed slightly.
God, how I want you.
“That was quite a welcome back,” he said, his voice a husky murmur that he hardly recognized.
“Where were you?” Their fingers laced together after he finished buttoning her top. “Did you go back to your time?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure how or why it happened, but the watch took me away from you. I’m sorry I left you alone.”
“I never thought you left intentionally.” She frowned. “And it brought you back?”
“Yes.” He pulled the timekeeper from the pocket of his shirt. “When I woke up in 1985, I couldn’t remember how I got there. All I could think about was getting back to you. I didn’t know how special the timepiece is.”
“It’s very special. I don’t understand its magic, but I’m glad you had it. Grady would have killed you.”
“I hated that the watch took me away from you like that,” he argued. “So suddenly. I was worried sick that he hurt you, and then my Pop found your letters—”
“You found them!” Her features lit up with excitement. She clutched his shoulders. “We hoped you would. Oh, my God! This is amazing!”
“Yeah, it is. Eva must have hid them in the wall. Pop found them and gave them to me. Thank you for thinking of me.”
“I can’t help but think of you.” She reached for her spectacles and rose from his lap. As she slid the glasses on, she added, “I’m glad you’re alive and well. Now you have to go back to your pa and your brother. You can’t stay here. It isn’t safe.”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“Thor, you don’t understand. This is all my fault.”
“Your last letter is here in my pocket. I know you’re planning to turn yourself in, and I understand why! Many people will die before slavery ends, but dammit, you won’t be in that number! I won’t let you!”
“Mr. Anders and Reverend Brown will hang for stealing Big Nat off Davis’s plantation. The owner of the plantation from where the children ran away has joined in with Davis, and he wants the same punishment. I cannot let them hang for what I did.” Shame washed over her face as she turned away. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Maybe those awful men won’t release Mr. Anders and Reverend Brown if I turn myself in, but I cannot live with their deaths on my conscience without trying to do something to stop it.”
“So, you’re willing to risk it all? Of all the hotheaded, impulsive, and downright dumbest things I’ve ever heard of!” He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. Guilt evidently had her bound tight. If only he could shake some sense into that beautiful head of hers. “Are you listening to yourself? You’re all set to die for nothing.”