Even then, she would have needed a miracle, which could only have occurred with one of my kind on staff.
Emma would recover. So would TJ. His injuries were less severe. Victor’s compulsion withdrew much of his energy, except TJ’s heart never stopped. He didn’t actually die and come back to life the way Emma did.
TJ’s sleeping, Molly said in thought as I sat in the corner chair of the guest room. His stats are all normal, she reported from her house a few doors down from mine. It was where she took TJ after the Victor incident. It could easily be explained should anyone ask. After all, Molly and TJ were a couple, so their peers would accept it. TJ’s folks, on the other hand, may not approve of cohabitation, even if just for a night. Molly would cross that bridge if need be. For now, it gave Molly the ability to monitor TJ’s wellbeing overnight.
Good to hear, I said. How are you holding up?
I’ve been better, she answered. Sorrow and relief were in her tone.
Molly was never one to let negative things linger. She simply moved on. She was positive and alert. Someone you’d want on your team. I did my best to build her spirit, but getting over something and someone this overbearing would take time.
Time we both agreed she needed.
You love TJ, don’t you? I asked.
Her initial silence was the yes answer I expected. Without verbalizing a response, she concurred. Molly never fell in love with anyone other than Victor and doing so with a human, while she was in immortal form, wasn’t acceptable. In her mind.
Molly, it happens all the time, I said in attempt to soothe her.
Not to me.
I know. It’ll work out. Don’t sweat it. Just remember to keep our existence—our world—a secret. We both knew that disclosing what we were was the biggest infraction an immortal could make. A mistake that could cost Molly her badge, not to mention immediate termination and a new life contract. Neither of which she wanted.
I-know-I-know-I-know, she babbled, unbecoming to her. I promise not to do anything stupid.
Good.
How’s Emma? Molly asked.
Nice change of subject.
She laughed.
She’s resting, but it’s clear she remembers me.
Well, of course she does. What did you expect? Molly snapped. You’re the one that needs to be reminded that our existence cannot be disclosed. You know that, right, Benjamin?
Yes. I know. Trust me. I know.
Good. And you’ve given her the cover story about the storm… looking for firewood in the woods—
Yes. And a tree branch fell. I haven’t forgotten. It was the story our team contrived and shared with both TJ and Emma. It was loaded, rehearsed, and assumed to have minimal rebuttal after they’d awake in the morning. Hopefully, it works.
Since when have you been pessimistic?
I’m not. Just anxious.
I know. And you don’t like lying to her, either. I get it. Don’t worry. What did you tell me? Molly mimicked. Oh, yes. It’ll all work out.
Goodnight, Molly, I said with a chuckle and severed the link.
Sitting in the chair, I watched Emma sleep. Her deep breaths were comforting. Humans had unexplainable flashbacks all the time. Especially those humans that were brought back to life. In a matter of a few hours, Emma’s brain would recalibrate her disjointed thoughts into reasonable form.
As much as I wanted to wake her and catch her when it was possible she knew me, I mean, really knew who I was, I didn’t. It was best not to.
Instead, I watched her sleep.
Chapter 120
Emma's Story
The water was cool on my skin.
Not cold, just comfortable. It was dark except for the glistening ripples in the lake. The light from the moon illuminated the shoreline and pier.
A splash beside me reminded me I wasn’t alone. He surfaced in front of me. His short, buzz-cut hair dripped water, as he shook his head a few feet away. He smiled briefly before diving below.
We were close to shore, yet the water was deep. I bobbed up and down. My toes touched bottom, then sprang me up when I pushed off the lake’s floor.
The water swooshed, as he swam around. His hand grazed my waist as he came up behind me, and I realized I was naked. He took me in his arms and spun me around. I was not embarrassed or uncomfortable.
“See? I told you the water would be refreshing,” he said.
I giggled. He was right.
It was Ben.
***
I awoke with a start.
My head was heavy. I saw double closet doors in front of me and sat up quickly, swinging my feet over the edge of the bed. I had to wait for the woozy feeling to subside before trying to stand. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust. The room was dark except for the faint light that filtered in through the window and the green glow of a digital clock on the table beside me. It was minutes past three.
I registered the sound of someone clearing their throat and turned to look. The outline of Ben came into focus. He was sitting in an oversized chair with his elbows resting on his knees. He yawned, and then rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hand before noticing my stare.
“Hey… you’re awake,” he said and walked toward me. He was dressed in the same white shirt and black pants he wore to the dance, though his shirt was unbuttoned, and his sleeves were rolled up. “How do you feel?” he asked, taking a seat beside me.
“My head hurts,” I mumbled, touching my hand to my temple. Memories filtered back and forth, and I found myself unaware of what was real and what was imagined. I had some crazy dreams, I thought. “Did I… Did we… skinny dip?”
He raised an eyebrow and gave me a confused look.
“No. We didn’t skinny dip last night.” I almost heard a chuckle in his voice.
“Oh. Okay,” I said, embarrassed for saying aloud what my wild imagination concocted. I looked down and realized I wasn’t wearing the clothes from the party. I was in the tank top and plaid boxers I packed for my night at Claire’s.
“Claire helped you.” He met my eyes and continued, “Change your clothes, I mean. I swear I wasn’t in here at the time.”
Embarrassed again, I glanced around. “Is this the guest room? In your house?”
He nodded.
I felt a bit of panic. Where was Claire? And why was I in the guest room? Did I drink too much last night? Is that why I didn’t remember getting here?
No. I didn’t drink that much.
I was at the park. On the swings. Or was that a dream? Who was that old man I was talking to? I felt like I knew him. Why did he give me a matchbook and why I talking to him? Was he real?
Wait. What happened to TJ? He was slumped over, by a tree. Wasn’t he?
Ben put his arm around me, and the rambling in my head stopped. I felt a calmness, despite the weird thoughts that ran through my mind.
“Where’s Claire?” I asked, attempting to sound confident.
“She’s sleeping. In her room,” Ben answered.
“So, I, ah… I must have been pretty out of it last night. Huh?”
He nodded again and hesitated before answering. I almost wondered if he was trying to read my reaction before he spoke. “You hit your head pretty hard. You don’t remember, do you?” His tone was sincere.
I shook my head.
“You were actually out for a minute. Like, out cold.”
I definitely didn’t remember that.
“Molly called her dad. He’s a doctor,” Ben said and held my hand. “Just to make sure you were okay.”
“And TJ?” I asked. “I saw him in the woods.”
“Yeah, he’s fine. Went home with Molly.” He was silent for a moment, and then continued. “Doc Preston left you some painkillers, if you need them,” he said, pointing to a bottle on the table. “You were awake and talking to him. He said you didn’t have a concussion, or anything. So we kinda overreacted, I guess. I was worried.”
I saw a look of con
cern. His eyes never left mine.
“I feel pretty stupid.” I whispered and hung my head.
“Don’t,” he whispered back, lifting my chin.
I glanced up at him, and he chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” he said with a smile. If my cheeks weren’t already red, they would be in a second. I expected him to tease me. Instead, he leaned down and kissed me. The same sensation I felt the night before fluttered in me again.
“You should take these for your headache,” he said, handing me two tablets and a glass of water. “And get some sleep.”
Reluctantly, I agreed. I didn’t want to go back to sleep. I wanted to stay with Ben. Of course, I couldn’t tell him that.
“Did you sit in here the whole time?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Didn’t you sleep?” I rested my throbbing head on the soft, feather pillow.
“Not really.” Ben pulled the covers up and tucked me in.
I couldn’t believe he didn’t leave me. It was incredibly flattering, and I hoped my cheeks weren’t betraying me.
“You know, you can join me, here,” I said. After his eyes lit up, I knew that didn’t come out right. “I mean—”
“I knew what you meant.” He grinned and sat on top of the covers on the other side of the bed.
“Thanks for staying.”
“There’s no other place I’d rather be.”
I turned to face him. That same tingle I felt when we kissed came back when he looked at me. He put his arm around me.
My body relaxed, and I drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 121
Ben's Story
I lay atop the covers fully clothed except my dress shoes, which I had slipped off and placed by the chair in the corner. My hands rested on my stomach, fingers locked as I stared at the ceiling. I could count sheep, but that never worked.
The sound of Emma’s rhythmic breathing indicated she was asleep. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, to nuzzle beside her, to kiss her ivory neckline until she gave herself over to me.
Except, I couldn’t.
She died tonight and came back to life. She needed time for her body to heal, for her to recover from the ordeal she went through. I was perverted thinking anything different. Even commanding rank wouldn’t condone my behavior should I act upon my thoughts.
Did she really ask about skinny dipping? Could she possibly have remembered the hot summer day I talked her into baring all?
It was late enough to be dark, but early enough to get caught. The inlet was quiet and private. I told her, “No one will see.” The July weather was humid, and a dip in the lake would be refreshing. I pulled off my shirt and dropped my shorts to the pier. I heard her gasp, as I dove in.
From a short distance away, I treaded water and watched as she removed the articles of clothing hiding her perfect figure. She glanced over her shoulder and threatened me gently. “Don’t look, Benjamin. I mean it!” Her beaming smile was contagious, though I turned away to appease her.
I heard the splash behind me and after a few swooshes of water, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her.
We both lost our virginity that night, in the boathouse. It was weeks before our wedding, and I knew more than anything that I loved her.
***
I must have dozed off.
A circular motion on my chest, followed by two light taps, woke me. It was what Elizabeth used to do on lazy Saturday mornings before we had Danny. Except when I opened my eyes, it wasn’t Elizabeth in my arms, it was Emma.
It was clear to me that she remembered our lives together, as she slept in my arms. Her thoughts were filled with disjointed memories she probably wouldn’t understand. And even though she remembered bits of her life as Elizabeth, she was still Emma Bennett.
She also remembered our first life together. It was so long ago that I’d put those memories behind me. Emma clearly remembered the Victorian house where we lived and getting swept away in the current of Lake Michigan that cool fall day.
Emaline Elizabeth Rice jumped into the chilly waters on September 20, 1893.
I was due back days earlier. Except my schooner capsized in a storm and never returned. Emmie, as I called her back then, saw something floating in the water that evening and dove in the lake in hopes of reaching it. It would have been proof my ship was lost and that I perished. Emmie never reached the floating sail. She drowned instead.
Catherine, Emmie’s sister, stood vigil at our home, day and night, awaiting word on both of us. It came when Emmie’s human body washed ashore with the sail weeks later, a mile south of our home.
After rehabilitation, Emmie was reassigned a new life. With good behavior, despite her poor judgment and the breach of her contract, she was allowed some negotiations of her next life, selecting the Hudson family of Riverside.
“It’s near Westport,” she told me, back in our world. We were granted limited correspondence prior to reassignment.
I took a new contract in neighboring Lake Bell, as Benjamin Parker Holmes. There, in 1931, I met Elizabeth Emaline Hudson.
Lost in my own memories, I didn’t hear Claire in the hallway. The door creaked as she opened it and Emma jerked awake, sitting up quickly. She pulled the covers tight to her neck, as if covering indecent attire.
“Catherine Rice! You startled me,” Emma said, staring at Claire.
Claire looked to me, silent.
Chapter 122
Emma's Story
Once the words left my mouth, I couldn’t retrieve them.
I heard a voice that sounded like mine, though what was said was clearly not what I meant. “I, ah… I’m sorry,” I said and shook my head. “Claire.” I rubbed my eyes and mumbled something about weird dreams in hopes she wouldn’t think I was crazy. “I dreamt you were my sister.” And I dreamt about a boy named, Danny, I thought.
A smile replaced the shocked look on Claire’s face. I felt pretty stupid. Head injury or not.
“Well, I feel like your sister,” Claire said. “I mean, after all, you are my best friend.”
I returned her smile and hoped my slip up would soon be forgotten.
“You gave us a big scare last night,” she said, giving me a hug.
“Yeah, I heard. I’m sorry,” I said, massaging my head. “A tree branch fell, huh?”
“More like a limb,” Ben added.
I looked over at him and realized he was fully dressed atop the covers.
“Well, I just wanted to check in on you. Go back to sleep. It’s just after eight,” she said.
“Where are you going?” Ben asked Claire. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater.
“Oh, um… Drew’s picking me up in a few minutes. We’re spending the day together.” She smiled as she spoke, and I knew she was happy.
“You guys make a really cute couple,” I said.
“Do you think?” she beamed.
“Yes, I do,” I answered.
After Claire left, I realized I had been sleeping in Ben’s arms.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “How ’bout we get breakfast?”
When I turned to look at him, a wave rippled through me. It was as if I had known Ben before, not just the months since I moved to Westport, like for a really long time. Everything about him seemed familiar—his eyes, his smile, his look. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Then, maybe we can go downtown, or catch a movie this afternoon.”
I nodded, trying to hold back my smile. I felt content and happy. “Sure.”
“Good. I’ll let you get ready.”
I dressed quickly, brushed my teeth, and ran a comb through my hair before we left.
“I’m low on fuel,” Ben said when we reached the gas station in Riverside. He ran his credit card through the machine and hooked up the hose, before climbing back into the driver’s seat. He reached for his Altoids tin between us. “Want one?” he asked.
&n
bsp; I shook my head. “I’m more of a Mentos girl. Not Altoids.”
He nodded and opened the tin. “Good. ’Cuz the box is empty. I’ll have to pick some up before we leave,” he said, turning to check the pump.
“I’ll go in. Cinnamon flavor?”
“Yeah. I’ll be right there,” he answered.
An old-fashioned bell rang when I opened the wooden door. Inside, the walls were dark with a vintage look. Short, wood shelves filled the store, not like the tall, metal ones they had at Kwik Trip in Westport.
“Mornin’, Miss,” an older voice said.
I turned and noticed an elderly gentleman sitting on a stool behind the counter. “Good morning,” I replied. Small, metal signs hung on the wall behind him, advertising old-fashioned soaps and cigarettes. Very nostalgic for a small town, I thought.
“Nice day out there. Unseasonably warm,” the gray-haired man said.
“Yes. Very nice.” I smiled at him and located the aisle with candy and mints. The charm of the doorbell rang again, and I guessed it was Ben. When the older man told someone to go to the stock room, I realized I was wrong.
I found the Mentos and scanned nearby rows for Altoids, but only saw mint. I placed the Mentos on the counter and was about to ask about Ben’s favorite flavor, when the man put the Sunday paper in front of me, along with a Red Bull.
“My grandson’s getting the Altoids for Benjamin,” he said.
“Oh. How did… how did you know that’s what I was looking for?” I asked.
“Your husband comes in every Sunday. Buys a tin of cinnamon Altoids, a coffee, an energy drink, and the Westport Gazette, early morning edition. ‘Course, he’s later than usual, today.”
Husband? “We’re not…”
“Ecckkk—I know. He told me he wasn’t married. Now that I saw ya… I know. I know these things. He’s had eyes on you forever.”
I smiled in response.
The older man rang up the purchase, as a boy placed the Altoids on the counter and Ben came in. Before I could open my purse to pay, Ben dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the worn, wooden counter.
“You folks make a nice couple,” the man said, handing Ben his change. “You don’t have kids yet, do ya?”
“I, ah…” I was uncertain what to say.
“No. Not yet,” Ben answered as I was still absorbing the question. Wait. Not yet?
“Well, you’ll be good parents. I can see how much you love each other.”