Nine

 

 

Four days she had spent in his company, watching him, listening to him, falling in love with him. Only four days. What kind of person fell in love in four days? She'd heard of love at first sight, but didn't think she believed in it. And then her mind ran an image of her in the desert watching him leave that incredible spiraling light, walking up to her and folding his arms around her. Didn't a person have to get to know someone really well, before knowing he was the one?

Sipping her wine, Casey snuggled into bed and pondered this great matter in her life. She had left the courtyard, returned to her room, stripped off her clothes, and asked Juana for wine. When the woman had came back with a tray holding a decanter of ruby red wine, she'd thanked her and asked her to leave it. Changing into her nightgown, she had assured Juana she wasn't sick, but wanted to remain alone.

She had some heavy thinking to do.

First, she accepted that somehow, by some crazy method, she had time-traveled. She couldn't deny it any longer. It had happened. What she couldn't seem to accept and what she would love to deny was that she was falling in love. Could she stop it? Could she somehow turn off this valve once it was opened? And did she want to?

What was the point of falling in love with a man who could time-travel out of her life at any moment? Talk about lack of commitment! Could her heart stand it? Could her head stand it that this same man seemed to find someone or something so interesting he stayed away for half the night? What was the point?

The point was… her heart was pounding out a primal rhythm to her, telling her Luke might just be the one. Somehow, she had never felt like this in any relationship. How could she? For one thing, none of the other men was a time traveler, and none was so honest, so wise, so charming, so handsome, that she seemed to melt as soon as she saw him. It was pathetic. She was pathetic!

Luke said to trust herself.

Right. When her heart and her head were telling her to go for it, her fears were whispering that she was a fool even to try. What had he said this afternoon about fear? Not to add weight to it? That it was a very heavy frequency? Way too heavy to be carrying around when time-traveling. That was what he'd said!

Here she was, before the sun even set, in bed, exhausted, and she couldn't blame it on dancing. Her mind was whirling with confusion. What did she want? What had she always known she wanted out of life?

To be a mother…

She almost laughed out loud, but caught her bottom lip between her teeth to prevent it. She could just see herself walking up to Luke before their next dance lesson…

Excuse me, but I'm like falling hard for you, and I know it's insane, but I've always wanted to be a mother and I'm not getting any younger and I've tried this dating game and you're the first male I've met who seems like the perfect match. Would you mind donating some sperm and fathering my child?

This time she couldn't hold back a guffaw. It was madness!

It also made perfect sense.

She poured more wine and then settled back against the pillows to really think this through. Okay, he would be perfect, not just because he really did seem perfect but because he would be time-traveling, or something, and he… Why, it would be like going to a sperm bank without all the red tape and the cold clinical atmosphere!

He had more integrity than any human being she had ever met. He was intelligent, virile, in great physical health; he had dedicated his life to love, for crying out loud! There was also a hint of something around him, something that said if challenged, he would be a formidable opponent, and yet he was the gentlest man she had ever met. She really was falling in love with the man, so there had to be a bond established. He was perfect for her… and she wanted him.

Did it really matter whether he wanted her for a lifetime? What had he said today about worrying right out of the present? She had spent her entire life worrying whether she'd done the right thing, worrying over the consequences of every action as though some dark force was going to confront her in the future and slam her behind the knees, making her fall on her face. She couldn't do it anymore. She was right here, right now, there was no past, and she hadn't a clue about the future, so she might as well collect some of those presents Luke had talked about today in the garden.

Now, how exactly did one approach a man and ask him to donate genes?

She fell asleep picturing Luke in the back of that wagon, playing with Elena. He loved children and they seemed to love him. He would say yes; he had to. It might take some effort on her part, to go beyond herself, her old self, and do what Rosa said… discover who she really was now, but she could do this if it meant finally fulfilling her only true desire. To be the mother she wanted to be, she was first going to have to become the woman she was always meant to become.

To hell with worry, was her last thought.

It was exciting!

She had no idea how exciting her life was about to become. In retrospect, she was quite unprepared for the very next evening… She sat across the dinner table from a dark-haired, single man who seemed to be flirting with her, and he wasn't Luke. Earlier in the day, nursing a sick headache, she'd heard a commotion in the hallway and was later informed that Don Miguel Cortez had arrived all the way from Spain for Rosalinda's quinceñera. Juana had hinted Don Miguel might even be a suitor for the hand of young Rosalinda.

Casey had expected Don Miguel to be young, in his twenties, yet the man with the slicked-back hair was at least as old as she, and Casey could see that Rosa wasn't too thrilled with this first prospect. The girl was polite, even coquettish at times, yet underneath her actions it was clear there was no deeper interest. Casey was secretly glad since Rosa deserved her one true love, as she liked to remind anyone who would listen. Maybe the man sensed he wasn't making headway with the teenager and had turned his attention to her now. He was looking directly at her and saying something and… Shit, now she was expected to respond. Everyone, even Luke, was looking at her with expectation.

She smiled down the length of the table and whispered, "I must apologize. I was daydreaming." Might as well be truthful, rather than get herself into more trouble.

Everyone grinned at her honesty, and Doña Isabela announced, "Señorita O'Reilly has been indisposed today." She turned to Casey and smiled. "We are happy merely by your presence tonight. Thank you for gracing our table when you are not fully recovered."

Wow… what a nice save, Casey thought, and smiled with gratitude. "Gracias, Doña Isabela. I am much better now."

"Que bueno. Con tu permiso," the woman said, nodding and turning her attention back to Don Miguel. "Then, with Señorita O'Reilly's permission, I will answer your question. She comes to us from her family. She has been away on a sabbatical for many years and is spending this time with us now until she can be reunited with them. We are honored to have her with us, especially as it appears she will be here for Rosalinda's quinceñera."

"Ah," the man said, nodding his head as if the entire thing made any kind of sense.

Casey glanced down the table to Luke. He was calmly cutting his meat, without a shred of concern.

Don Miguel cleared his throat and spoke again. His voice was heavy with a Spanish accent, and Casey could tell he wanted to be sure of his words. "I understand, Señorita O'Reilly. I find that travel within this country is most taxing. But tell me, this sabbatical that Doña Isabela speaks of… That would be spiritual in nature, yes?"

He sipped his wine and smiled into her eyes. Casey wasn't sure what to say.

"Couldn't everything be spiritual in nature, Don Miguel… from a certain viewpoint?" Luke interjected, as he intensely examined a roasted red pepper with the tip of his fork. "Even purchasing horses from the Indians for your farm in Mexico. Wouldn't you agree, señor?"

"I would say that is business, Señor d'Séraphin. There is nothing of a spiritual nature involved with such matters."

Luke shrugged and smiled. "I suppose you could be right. Pardon my interruption, mi amigo. In what part of Mexico is your farm located? Don Felipe tells me it is most beautiful."

"The western part, señor. It has been in my family for generations, even surviving the French occupation, and yet this is the first opportunity I have had to visit. I am most anxious to bring it back to a proper state."

The man kept talking about his farm, and Casey could only stare at her plate of food. Luke had smoothly turned the conversation around and had saved her from telling a lie. Again she felt her heart expand toward the man. She was like a moth being drawn to the light. Could she trust herself to survive this if she went through with her plan? Didn't most moths die? She'd already been hit by lightning and had survived. Why not go for the whole shooting match? What the hell did she have to lose at this point?

And she had everything to gain.

She focused her attention and was so proud of Luke as he held his own with this slightly pompous guest, while still remaining charming. He was quite a man and she was more than ever determined to ask him. If he said no… he said no. That was it. She could accept it. She might be embarrassed, but she wouldn't die of it since, once they returned, she'd never have to see him again. That thought made her stomach muscles clench with regret. She had to stop thinking about this stuff and pay attention.

Rosalinda was going to sing for them after dinner, and Casey was really looking forward to hearing the talented girl. She realized as she glanced down to Rosa that she was going to miss her when she left. In such a short time she felt like she had made a friend.

Her attention didn't seem to be required as the talk of Mexico seemed to hold the conversation. She was glad she had an excuse not to converse as Don Felipe spoke of his extensive importing business. Even though the discussion was pleasant, she wanted to be alone with her thoughts now more than ever. With each day, she was becoming more and more sure that she had been sent back in time for a reason. What was it Luke had said? She was on this adventure for a purpose? Stuff like this just didn't happen all the time, and since it had, then maybe she should begin to wonder how it might all fit together in her life.

Here she meets this fantastic man, back in time, and has the perfect opportunity to get pregnant without anyone ever finding out who the father is or where she met him. What could be more perfect?

In the back of her mind was the nagging thought that perfect would be him loving her, but she pushed it back even further. He didn't have to love her exclusively forever and ever, and with a time traveler, that could be a mighty long time! He already respected her. She'd gotten that far. Suddenly Casey realized this was the first time she had truly been the pursuer and not the pursued. It was an odd feeling. She had dangled out her line a few times with some of the best bait she knew how to conjure and had had a few serious bites, but this… this was going after the catch of all time.

What if she lost? Fear crept up her back, making her shiver.

"Are you chilled, señorita?" Doña Isabela asked, calling over a servant with her raised fingers.

"I'm fine," Casey answered, even though she wasn't. What if she lost out on this opportunity? It might never come again in her lifetime.

Doña Isabela whispered something to a servant and turned back to her guests. "Perhaps, damas y caballeros, with everyone's permission, we will have a dessert after our concert?"

Everyone agreed and the men pulled back the chairs for the ladies. Couples seemed to pair up, Don Felipe and his wife, Rosalinda and Don Miguel, and Luke held out his arm to her. Her smile was hard to keep under control as she accepted the invitation to walk with him into la sala, the large living room with the piano. There was more than enough room for all to sit down, and Casey was about to sit the farthest away when a servant handed her a beautifully embroidered shawl that looked lovely with her borrowed pink gown.

"Gracias," she whispered to the man, who nodded and walked away.

"May I help?" Luke asked, taking the shawl from her and holding it out.

She turned her back and he gently draped the material across her shoulders. Pulling the edges closer, she smiled her thanks. "That's the fourth time you've saved me in as many days. Thank you, Luke."

"The shawl was Doña Isabela's idea, not—"

"You know what I mean," she whispered, as she watched the others move about the room. She noticed Manuel discreetly slip in through a side doorway then sit on a stool by the end of the piano. "I mean, Don Miguel almost had me with that spiritual question."

"Ah, that… You're welcome, but I'm not keeping score." He paused and looked at her with a grin, adding, "Are you?"

"What? Of course not." She shrugged, answering in a voice she hoped wouldn't give her away. "I was just thanking you and making polite conversation until the conceit began."

"Are you warm enough?" Don Felipe asked in passing.

Gliding into the room on her husband's arm, Doña Isabela added, "I can have a fire lit."

She held up her hand to them. "Please, everyone… I'm fine. Enjoy yourselves now. You are wonderful hosts and I thank you for your hospitality." She couldn't seem to say it enough. She really was so grateful to be in their home and accepted as a family friend, and all on the good word of this man at her side.

Don Felipe looked pleased and Doña Isabela affectionately patted her arm as she and her husband passed.

"They're a happy couple, aren't they?" she whispered to Luke.

"Yes, they are. I enjoy their company."

"So do I. They're great examples of a good union." She threw the line out there to see if there was any interest.

"I agree, and their children reflect it."

Oh, that was big interest, maybe even a bite!

"I think I would like to talk to you about that the next time we are… How did you put it? Mentoring?"

"The subject of children?" He sounded surprised.

"The topic of a happy union producing happy children."

"Hmm…" He grinned. "That's sounds like it would be a most interesting topic, señorita. I warn you, it might get pretty philosophical."

She cleared her throat and grinned. "Get? Excuse me, but every discussion I have with you turns into a philosophical discussion."

"And that bothers you?" he asked as Rosalinda walked toward them.

"No—"

She had no time to answer further as the teenager grabbed her hand and whispered, "Ay, Casey, Don Miguel… he is much too old and I know he isn't my true love, but tonight my mother insists that I sing this song. Don Miguel will think I am singing to him and I will never be rid of the man. You must help me!"

Casey, who had thought the whole thing funny until the last sentence, pulled her shawl more snugly around her and said, "What do you mean? How can I help you?"

"If you could sing in Spanish, I would ask you to perform a duet and—"

"Yeah, well… I can't," Casey interrupted to stop that crazy thought.

"I know," Rosa declared with a hiss, and lowered her voice. Leaning in, she whispered, "You must catch Don Miguel's eyes and… and distract him."

"What? I can't distract him!" Casey declared, and was acutely aware of Luke's body beginning to move with suppressed laughter. She glared up at him. This was not funny. This kid meant it!

"But you must, señorita!" Rosa pleaded. "My true love is coming to my quinceñera, I know this… and I also know it is not Don Miguel Cortez! Por favor, Casey. You must help me."

"Rosa mía."

They heard Rosa's mother call her, and Casey quickly whispered, "Oh, I'll try, but I'm not promising anything!"

"Gracias!" Rosa whispered, and turned to her mother, standing at the piano.

Watching as Doña Isabela sat down in front of the large instrument and began adjusting her gown, Casey whispered to Luke, "Can you believe that little imp?"

His voice still sounded amused. "Yes, I can believe her. She is determined. You have to admire that."

"Yes, determined to get me in trouble with her!" Even though her voice was low, she couldn't stifle the frustration. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

"Distract the very proper gentleman from Castile, Spain. He has shown some interest, in case you hadn't noticed."

She glanced up at his expression. There was none, save amusement.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"It has the potential to be quite a performance, I think. Perhaps I should take my seat now to throughly enjoy it."

"Oh no… you're not leaving my side now," she declared. "I'm going to need you here so Don Miguel doesn't think I'm interested in him. Think you can pull off an interested party there, Mr. Time Traveler?" It was an ambiguous question, and she awaited his answer.

He looked into her eyes and she swore there was interest. He didn't say anything for so long that she finally asked, "You just said you were going to sit down. You did intend to stay, didn't you? I mean, I know you have someplace to go, since you always leave after dinner and—"

"I'm staying," Luke murmured. "Now, sit down and I shall stand here, behind your chair, and lean against the wall."

"You won't leave?"

"Trust me." He smiled, looking directly into her eyes, then added, "I won't leave you."

"Okay," she said, walking around the chair. She smiled at the others and realized they were waiting for her to take her seat. I trust you, she mouthed to Luke, right before she turned and sat down.

Trust… It was becoming a pretty big issue in her life lately.