Chapter 10

“Follow me,” the man commanded.

Sanity was obviously in short supply as Sam let him lead her into the darkness. She stared at his unyielding back, the lantern swinging from one hand, her keys and book clutched tightly in his other. Relief flooded in when they arrived at the stable yard, a place she recognized from Amelia’s birthday party.

The yard was quiet now, void of busy workers, carriages, or animals. Yet the smells of hay and horses permeated the air, and she could hear nickers from within the stable. Light poured from wide barn doors casting strange shadows on the straw-covered ground.

Robert was alone there, pumping water into a bucket from a well just outside the building. He paused, his eyes widening, when they approached. Sam was about to rush forward, but his dark scowl held her back.

He lowered the bucket and stood steel-rod straight. “Where did you find her?” he demanded of the man.

“On the front porch, sir. She had a key this time.” The man held up Sam’s keys as if he had a dead rat by the tail. “She also had this book. Perhaps it will shed light on her intentions.” He passed her things to Robert.

“I’m right here you know,” Sam announced. “I can speak for myself.”

Robert’s gaze raked over her. Slow and thorough, she could feel him lingering on her jean-clad legs. He broke the stare to examine her things, fingering the key to his house repeatedly. A surprised snort came from him when he turned his attention to her book. Sam’s cheeks grew hot. The cover was provocative. A scantily clad woman lay sprawled beneath a lusty cowboy.

His jaw worked into a harsh line. “You may go, Godfrey.”

“But sir, shouldn’t we send for the authorities?”

“Still here,” Sam reminded them, and they both glared at her.

“I can manage,” he told his man.

Godfrey hesitated but then left them alone.

Sam’s chin hiked up in defiance, yet she waited in silence.

Robert’s stare returned to her. “Is this a joke to you, sneaking into a man’s home?”

“I wasn’t sneaking.”

“What then? What were you doing? Why have you returned?”

She looked away, knowing she couldn’t explain.

“I saw you disappear,” he accused. “We turned the entire house upside down, but you’d vanished.”

“Yes,” she acknowledged, her voice dipping low.

Robert paced. “I’ve considered every possible explanation, magic and mirrors, some sort of trickery, even a brain fever on my part, but nothing fits. And what of a motive? I did not want to believe—as others do—that you came into my home for malicious purposes. It didn’t seem your nature.” He moved dangerously close, dangling the keys before her face. “And yet here you are, the mysterious Samantha Merrill, returned with the key to my home.”

“I’m no thief if that’s what you’re insinuating,” she challenged him. “Go ahead call the police. Call the Marines. Call the President for all I care. Maybe someone can explain what’s going on, because I sure as hell can’t.”

She turned her back on him, trembling with emotion. It was a losing battle not to cry in front of him, though the idea of it made her sick. She’d been here before, waiting for a man to unleash his anger. Her voice wobbled despite her best effort to keep it steady. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. I can’t do this anymore.”

He came close behind her. “What can’t you do?”

“You won’t understand.”

He released a long, heavy breath. “For all my reasoning, something about you troubles me. The look in your eyes, the shock and fear I saw there that night. You didn’t know you would disappear, did you?”

Sam spun around, clinging to the glimmer of hope his words offered. Shaking her head, she swore, “I didn’t know. I didn’t even know how I got there. Your sister…she found me and dragged me to you. Then those awful Kingstons were there. I tried to get away, tried to find my way back, but I couldn’t. And then…I just…did.”

Robert’s expression eased into one of pity. “I should send for the doctor—”

“No, please, I don’t want a doctor.”

“Then what do you want? Why have you come back? Tell me,” he commanded.

“All right,” she cried. Her lips quivered. “I was outside—in my own time—but I got locked out of the house. My house. Well, not mine, but…” She rambled, spitting out words faster than she could think. “I don’t own it, but I live here. I was trying to get in when your servant appeared and brought me to you.” She gulped back tears only to choke. “Strange things are happening, and it’s all connected to this house!”

Robert looked unnerved. “Control yourself, Miss Merrill. Tears will gain you no advantage with me. I will get to the bottom of this. What do you mean ‘your time’?”

“What year is it?” Sam demanded.

He took a step back. “You don’t know the year?”

“I do, but it’s not my year. Look at me. Do I look like I’m from your time?” She held her arms out, accentuating her modern clothing. “How many women do you know who dress like me?”

Robert wagged his finger at her. “Do not take me for a fool, madam.”

“I live in this house, your house, in the future. There, I’ve said it,” she declared. “Somehow—by some freak of nature or whatever—I am back in time. Your time. And all I can do is stand here blubbering and trying to explain to you.”

“You can explain to the authorities.” He dropped her things, making a grab for her.

It was all too much for Sam. She turned to run, but he caught her by the wrist.

“Let me go.” She struggled. “You don’t understand.”

“Then stop carrying on and help me understand.” He dragged her to his chest. Arms like steel bands locked around her. “Damn it, woman. Stop fighting, and let me help you.”

They were both breathing hard when she stilled in his arms. Their gazes locked as a world of confusion and frustration passed between them. Sam gasped when, without warning, he ground his mouth to hers.

There was no gentle brushing of lips or tender words, no time to consider the consequences. Robert’s kiss was intense, filled with all the angst they were both feeling. He forced her lips apart for the intrusion of his tongue.

All barriers shattered when she returned his kiss, meeting him stroke for stroke. Their tongues swirled in a fevered dance. Robert growled his approval, grasping her tighter. Rough hands bit into her arms, but Sam suddenly didn’t care. Coarse whiskers scraped her chin.

She found the nape of his neck and pulled him closer. Sweat-dampened tendrils of unruly hair curled around her fingers. The rugged scent of him filled her, strong virile man mingling with the great outdoors.

At her sounds of growing pleasure, Robert relaxed his hold. He slanted his mouth fully over hers. His kisses became gentler, more artful. Tasting, nibbling, his lips caressed hers sending a thrill of desire surging through her. Her arms roamed over his broad back. She had dreamed of him like this, night after night, alone in her bed. Longed for him ever since their first meeting. It was a fantasy, for sure, and yet here they were clinging to one another as if their lives depended on it.

Sam moaned against his mouth, and he paused.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, his expression troubled.

“Don’t be. You’re as much a part of this as me. You just don’t know it yet.”

“Then tell me. I want to believe you.” His embrace turned protective.

She pulled away, needing space to think. With several unsteady steps, the world turned blistering white and it happened again.

****

Robert shielded his eyes against a flash of blinding light. It faded after several seconds, and he stared in disbelief at the empty place before him. His mind fought to deny what his eyes showed him. It was impossible, and yet she was gone. Again.

He spun, searching the vacant yard. Everything was just the same as before. Alarms clamored in his head. Had Godfrey even come with her? The implications punched him in the gut. Dear Lord, what if I’m mad? Mad as my father?

Yet the exquisite feel of Samantha’s mouth still lingered, his body thrumming with desire for her. It was unimaginable, and yet somehow he knew it to be true. Time travel. She had warned him, tried to explain. “…somehow it’s all connected to this house!” His mind stumbled over stories of his beloved home—his father’s poisonous words, his sibling’s fears of ghosts and monsters, talk among the servants. Were they all connected? Was Samantha caught up in it somehow?

His gaze snapped to the ground. Her things… Grabbing the book, he raced to the lamplight. It was unlike any volume he had ever seen, not bound in leather but rather some heavy paper. The cover was colorful, shiny, and smooth. He fanned through the odd feeling pages, stopping on the first couple. His eyes scanned the tiny print. The date! More than a century into the future!

“Robert?”

He whirled around to find Samantha staggering toward him like she might collapse. He had her in his arms in an instant, and she hung there like a rag doll, her lovely eyes shining with fresh tears.

“I tried to tell you—”

“I know.” He stopped her with an impassioned kiss. Raising an unsteady hand to her cheek he said, “From the moment I met you, Samantha Merrill, I knew there was something special about you. Granted, I had no idea just how special.”

Her lips quivered. “You believe me?”

A burst of surprised laughter came from him. “Yes, by God. But please, no more tears. I’m finding yours particularly disturbing.”

“Good to know.” She gave a hesitant smile before standing on her own.

Robert rubbed a hand over his face feeling undone. “People swear the house is haunted. My own family talks of specters and disembodied voices.”

“It’s the same in my time.” Excitement boosted her voice. “But it’s not ghosts. I think it’s a doorway linking our two worlds. You are seeing us. We are catching glimpses of you.”

“A doorway?” he breathed in amazement. “Where?”

“I think it must be the entire property. I was outside tonight, and we’re here now, so it’s not only the house. And it’s not just me either. Others have experienced strange things, too. The other day someone was attacked.”

Robert made a connection. “Charles swore he and Amelia drove away an evil spirit with a toy sword.” He lowered his head in shame. “I was quite stern with them, thinking it was just another one of their games.”

Samantha came to his side. “You couldn’t know. No one could.”

He squeezed her hands. “How does it feel when you pass through this doorway? Perhaps if we retrace your steps…”

“Most times there’s a bright light—like tonight—but not always. Sometimes I’m dizzy or I feel sick. Other times it just happens, and I end up here. With you.”

“Surely, you go to other places, to other people?”

“No.” Samantha shook her head with confidence. “Only to you. At least, so far.”

The fortuneteller’s words came rushing back to Robert. “Someone is coming to this house. To you.” He gave a short laugh. “And to think, I labeled the woman a charlatan.”

Maybe they were both crazy, but even with her face flushed and her eyes red from crying, Samantha Merrill was the most beautiful, exciting woman he’d ever met. A potent mix of longing and determination surged within him. He wanted her, and by God, he would stop at nothing to keep her.

“Will you disappear again, vanish forever?” he blurted out.

“I don’t know.” She hugged her arms around herself. “Someone has already disappeared and never come back. Vicky…Victoria. Have you seen her?”

“There’s been no one.”

“Oh, what am I gonna do?” Samantha moaned, falling apart. “What if I can’t get back?”

Robert paced as scenarios played out in his mind. She was a woman, alone and defenseless in a strange place. A plethora of dangers could befall her. Samantha needed him. More importantly, he conceded, he needed her. There was no way he wanted to lose her, not after what they’d shared. The memory of her body pressed against him, her soft mouth on his…

“I suppose it’s possible you could be stuck here,” he hedged. “However, until we know, I offer you my home and protection. Unless you wish to leave. Or you disappear. But maybe you won’t,” he added with a hopeful smile. “Does that sound reasonable?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Apparently not.”

“Why do you suddenly look so pleased? I might never get home.”

“An intriguing possibility.” He gave in to the wide smile.

Coming closer, he lifted her chin to examine her face. Her eyes told him she could cry again at any moment. His heart squeezed as the need to protect her grew. “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured.

“You’re not?”

Lovely hazel eyes seemed to see right through him. The truth was he was terrified. She made him feel reckless, impulsive, as free as a young man with the entire world at his feet. Something he most certainly was not. He had more responsibilities than he could fathom, and yet he was excited to see where she would lead him next. “I’ll see us through this,” he vowed despite it all.

He couldn’t stop himself from caressing the softness of her cheek. She smiled a bit, seeming reassured by his touch. Leaning into his hand, she closed her eyes. Until a loud whinny caused her to fly into his arms.