And he kissed me.
I’d never felt a kiss like this. It was pure. It was sexy. It was honest. It was fierce. It was consuming. And I knew; this was it. There would never be another guy for me. I had traveled 300 plus years back in time and fallen completely in love with one soul. Samuel.
He finally stopped kissing me. “What are you doing?” I asked, almost breathless.
He smiled, and held out his hand to me. “We have to get back. Before they discover that we are missing.”
“Are you sure?” A kiss like that certainly needed to continue for a couple of hours, at the least.
“We are destiny’s lovers. If there is not time for us,” he said as he took my hand, “then there will never be time for anyone.”
Chapter 23
Several days passed. I did not see Samuel again. Nothing had changed, but everything had changed.
For the first time in my life, I was in love. Not a crush, not unreciprocated affections—like Brett. I was completely in love. But my brain could not process both bliss as well as confusion.
The elephant in the room was the fact I came from the future. He lived in 1675. I was training to be a Messenger. He was meant to be a Healer. And then there was the time travel dilemma. Was there a way for us to be together?
I decided to ignore all the messy stuff, and just stick with bliss. It had been a long time since I felt bliss.
I hummed my favorite Pink song as I helped Elizabeth with the household chores and felt Samuel’s necklace pressed under my dress. I swept the floors. The necklace lay against the skin of my neck and throat. The sensation was crazy. It was silky, but coarse. Smooth, but rough. It was intoxicating.
I brought in wood and stacked the logs into the pile next to the fireplace. The feathers tickled a little. I folded laundry and replayed in my head what Samuel’s face looked like as the sun rose over the Atlantic. When he gave me the necklace. When he kissed me.
Elizabeth watched me from her chair close to the fireplace. “Something put a glow on your face,” she said.
Oh yes. I smiled back at her.
The school kids sat close to her on small, wooden benches and clutched their odd hornbooks, practicing their letters on them.
When a loud, jolting knock slammed our front door, the kids jumped. Elizabeth’s hand flew to her stomach and her face froze into a mask of terror.
“What?” I whispered.
“This is how they tell families their loved ones have been killed in the war,” she whispered, sunk into her chair, and closed her eyes.
“Whoever it is I’ll handle this,” I said.
The kids were jumpy. Unspoken questions practically tripping off their tongues. “You have all been so smart today, children, that you get to take recess for a half hour.”
They didn’t budge, just stared at me, confused. I realized the word “recess” hadn’t been coined yet. “Leave your books here.” I pointed to their benches. “Go outside and run around. It’s good for the blood.”
“Yay!” A couple of kids popped off the benches, while the slower ones followed on their heels. Another harsh knock practically shook the house. The kids stopped in their tracks, and a few cowered.
Elizabeth started rocking. “No, Jebediah. Walk this earth with me. Be alive, I pray.” She hunched forward, and clutched her huge belly.
I waved my hands in the air in front of the kids and whispered, “Hey!” I stuck out my tongue, crossed my eyes, and pulled on my ears. “Now who’s scarier? Me or the person knocking?”
Two of them bent over, giggling.
“I’m going to open this door, and you run right past the person who’s standing at the front door. But don’t stray from Mistress Elizabeth’s yard. Got it?”
“Got it,” Mary Smythe said.
“I’m appointing you General, Mary. It’s your job to make sure everyone who leaves this school house, comes back in.” I saluted her.
Her eyes grew huge and she saluted me back.
A boy next to her pouted, “Since when do girls get to be Generals?”
“Since right now, smarty-pants.” I opened the door and saw Reverend Wilkins leaning in for another knock. “Run, kids!” They ducked around him, and tore outside. The Reverend frowned and looked about as thrilled as someone who just got pelted with worms. “Good day Reverend Wilkins,” I said. “Won’t you come in?”
He pushed past me into the room. The cold, damp air from the gloomy fall day poured past him into our small home. He didn’t even look at me, just stomped toward Elizabeth hunched over in the chair next to the fire. “Mistress Elizabeth Ballard.”
She nodded and wiped a few tears away, but couldn’t meet his eyes. I checked the kids playing in the dirt and yellow grass in front of the house. They seemed fine. I shut the door, walked to Elizabeth, and placed my hand on her shoulder. “Yes, Reverend?” I asked.
Again, he ignored me. “Mistress Elizabeth Ballard, wife of General Jebediah Ballard. We have a terrible situation.”
Could this guy get more awful? Elizabeth reached her hand up to mine; it was trembling and cold. I leaned toward her, and whispered, “Be strong, Lizzie.”
She nodded and looked up at him. “What is the situation, Reverend?” she asked. “Can it be resolved?”
“The situation rests squarely with your cousin, Abigail.” He glared at me. “I am not sure we can solve it.”
Elizabeth inhaled. “Jebediah is alive?”
“I believe so.”
Thank God, I thought. And then I felt furious. How dare he frighten Elizabeth? He knew she’d be scared out of her mind that Jebediah had been killed.
He paced around me like I was some wild animal he was trying to capture; definitely not a puzzle piece he tried to figure out.
Elizabeth sat up straight. “Abigail heals from her wounds and helps me with the household chores. She keeps the children obedient.” She pushed herself to standing. “What could possibly be wrong with her?”
The Reverend leaned his skinny face with his greasy hair into mine. He smelled rancid, like something left too long in the fridge, and I tried not to recoil. He latched onto the neckline of my dress, bunched it in his grimy fist, and ripped it. I cried out.
“Just as I was told,” he said breathing heavily. He grabbed my necklace, yanked it from my neck, and squeezed it in his hand.
Elizabeth practically fainted. “What are you doing, Reverend?”
“That’s mine!” I yelled. “You give it back!”
“Who are you really, Abigail?” He leaned into my face, his yellow teeth bared. “Because no God-fearing, colonial girl wears dirty, heathen jewelry.”
I glared at him, which was like looking into the eyes of a rat up close. “A friend gave me this necklace,” I said. “You have no right to take it. I ask you kindly to return my gift now.”
“Ever since the attack you have turned into a tormented devil girl. Tell me truthfully. Are you one of Philip’s spies?”
“Oh, please,” I said. “Give my necklace back, or I’ll take it back.”
“Abigail!” Elizabeth exclaimed.
The Reverend dangled the most, beautiful piece of jewelry high in the air in front of me. I reached for it, but he ripped it apart. I watched, shocked, as crushed shells, pieces of Nathan’s mane and broken feathers fell to the floor. My heart cracked into a million pieces as he destroyed the gift that Samuel had made, just for me.
“Oh no.” Elizabeth crouched awkwardly, and gathered pieces of my necklace that lay scattered on the ground. “Apologize to the Reverend, Abigail.”
“What!”
He smiled. “I counsel you to get control of your cousin. If something of this nature happens again, I will make sure she is punished as well.” He sneered at me and strode toward the door.
I lunged at him, and grabbed his sleeve. “You pretend to be smart and God-fearing. But I know who you really are. At the end of the day, you’re simply a bully.”
Reverend Wilkins smiled at me with his tiny,
yellow teeth. I pulled back, and really looked at him. Same teeth, same eyes, same bullying tactics, just three hundred plus years in time. But it was definitely he: Stanley Preston.
“Stocks and whipping would not be pleasant. But, you will soon discover that for yourself.” He pushed past me and left.
“What did he mean?” I asked.
Elizabeth cradled her stomach and would not meet my eye. “As long as Jebediah is gone and we are at war, the Reverend Wilkins has the authority—”
I grabbed my coat from the rack, and flung open the front door. The kids ran back inside, their faces flushed from the cold.
“Be careful and prudent,” Elizabeth hollered after me. “The Reverend has a reasonable point. I am sorry.”
“I can’t believe you’d take his side,” I said. “I hate it here! You people are awful. I hope I never see you, ever again!”
“You do not mean that!” Elizabeth said.
I slammed the door behind me.
Chapter 24
I raced through the garrison and passed the church. I wondered if the Reverend was holed up there. I contemplated storming inside, and grabbing what was left of my necklace. Who had told him about it? Why? I had to find Samuel; I had to talk with him.
There was a small, tight crowd of people huddled together around the stocks and the hanging platform. I spotted Mistress Powter on the outskirts. She and her friends chatted to each other cheerfully, and pointed to the crowd’s center. She beckoned to me, friendly. “Join us, Abigail. Hurry! You have almost missed it.”
“Missed what?” I detoured from my path and with open arms they gathered and included me in their company.
“The punishment.” Mistress Powter pushed me forward to the front of their group, and I saw who was being punished.
Samuel was shirtless. His hands were tied high to the whipping pole, while a colonist cracked a whip across his bare back that was already raw in areas and welting in others.
“No!” I cried out.
“Yes,” Mistress Powter replied. “The Reverend Wilkins declared Samuel is guilty of lewd and unseemly behavior. Punishment is thirty lashes. And, to think you almost missed it.” She craned her neck to catch a better glimpse.
Samuel caught my eye. “Go,” he mouthed.
I teared up, and shook my head. “No!”
“Go.” Another blow tore into his back, and he grimaced.
Reverend Wilkins spotted me and smiled. “So glad you could join us. Abigail.”
I pushed my way back through the small crowd, and ran toward Angeni’s hut, wiping tears away with every step. I no longer cared if what I was living and feeling was a dream, a past-life, or real. It was time to go home.
I would learn from Angeni. I would get dizzy, climb tall things, and venture onto cliffs. I had to go back to my life in Chicago in the future. There was no way I would allow Samuel to ever be hurt again, because of me.
I leaned my head against her hut’s coverings, listened, but heard nothing. “Angeni?” I whispered. There was no reply. I was bursting, and had to talk with somebody who would understand. Who would get it?
Tobias.
I walked the short distance to the garrison’s walls. Saw long, black hair resting on the tall, muscular, and clothed back of a guy seated next to a flaming fire pit.
Tobias swiveled and faced me. Almost if he knew I was coming. He skinned what appeared to be freshly killed rabbits with his knife.
“Do you know what they are doing?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Can’t you stop them?” I begged.
“No.”
“Why aren’t you there for him? He’s your best friend.”
“He did not want me there,” Tobias replied. “He did not want Angeni, or you there, either. He made me swear not to tell you in advance.”
“Why would they hurt him?”
“Because they can.” Tobias frowned. “Anyone can hurt anybody, and get away with it. Especially if they have cunning, skill, or power.”
He was right.
“But how do I fight that?” I asked. “I can’t live here knowing they are hurting Samuel, because of me.”
Tobias skewered the rabbits’ bodies with skinny, metal rods. “They have the power right now. Samuel and my kind do not. But power shifts with the winds. Ebbs and flows like the ocean waters. Today’s friend becomes tomorrow’s enemy. And history is written by the victors.”
He slapped the rabbit carcasses on the rudimentary grill over the fire. “Sometimes I think history needs to be re-written. What do you think?” he glared at me.
“I think this garrison isn’t my home,” I said. “I have to leave, before people I care about get hurt, or even worse—are punished because of me.”
“You never paid me back for the information I shared,” he said, and stirred a pot that rested on the grill.
Really? That mattered now? “Fine. Ask me anything.”
“What is your real name?” He pulled something from his pocket and sprinkled it into the pot.
I hesitated, but it was time. “Madeline Abigail Blackford.”
“What are you doing living in Abigail Endicott’s body and life?”
Great question. “I don’t know.”
“Where are you from?” he asked, took the pot off the stove and poured water from a flask into it.
“Chicago, Illinois.”
“What year?”
“Over three hundred years in the future.”
His face twitched.
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
“No,” he said. “I think you might be a Messenger.”
“What if I’m a Messenger who wants to go back to my time, and my people? Angeni says I can go back if I learn the Sa-Ta-Na-Ma chant, and confront my fears.”
He shook his head. “You don’t need to learn that old chant. There are other ways to travel.”
“You know? Show me.”
“You are not serious about leaving,” he said. “You are just being whimsical, and leading everyone on a selfish chase.”
“I want to go home.”
“I think you want to stay here a bit longer. You are making friends, learning lessons. Even conquering hearts.”
“I can’t let Samuel get hurt again. Please, please help me.”
“It tastes a little bitter,” he said, and held out a metallic cup filled with brown liquid. “Drink it down quickly.”
I looked at it. I really didn’t like ingesting things when I wasn’t sure about their contents. “What is it?”
He pulled the cup away, but I grabbed it back and gulped it down. Fine. Tobias was Samuel’s friend. He only wanted what was best for him. Everything would be just fine.
It was worse than bitter. It tasted vile. It was all I could do not to spit it out. “How do you know about traveling? Did Angeni teach you?”
“No.” He took the cup back from me and pulled the rabbit skewers from the fire. “My father knows about traveling,” he said. “Sometimes when he hunts, he runs into a traveler.”
“What’d ya mean?” I felt a little woozy and swayed. I sat down next to him.
“My father says traveling is filled with danger. Every time you travel becomes increasingly treacherous, as you meet more enemies the more trips you take.” He stood up.
Well hopefully, I’d travel right back to my, wait, where was I going? “Where’s Samuel? I need to say goodbye to Samuel before I leave.” I tried to push myself to standing, but my legs felt like Jello and I sat back down.
“Recovering from being punished. Because of you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Too late for sorry,” he said. “You just stay here, relax, and enjoy your trip. If we’re lucky, you’ll be back with your real family in no time.”
I was so dizzy. The fire seemed to be growing bigger. Just like the fire that consumed the cabin the first day I woke up here. That’s when the skinned, crispy rabbits leapt off their skewers and hopped away.
Some
jumped across the earth. Others disappeared into softball-sized holes in the ground that suddenly opened up around me with little gasps, like when you opened an airtight jar for the first time. My throat felt parched, and my stomach started cramping. “Don’t go,” I said.
He leaned into my face: all three, blurry versions of him. “You said you wanted to go back to your real life. I am helping you do that,” Tobias said. “Go on now, Madeline. Be brave. Real Messengers are usually brave.”
“But what ’bout Samuel?”
“I’ll tell Samuel you said goodbye.”
Chapter 25
I was alone in front of a fire with its flames licking at my feet, when a huge, loud blast of scorching air exploded in front of my eyes, sucked me inside and thrust me into its deepest interior: freezing darkness. I twirled around like a rag doll in this vacuum that was penetrated by pinpricks of multi-colored lights and images that popped up all around me.
Green from the pine needles in the forest where we hunted for herbs. Pink like the Atlantic sunrise. Purple like the shells in my necklace. Hazel like Samuel’s eyes. Red like the welts on his back when he was whipped.
I heard snippets of conversations and saw people’s faces. Bam. Mama. She threw me a kiss. “Life goes fast, Madeline. Right now we need to be just like life.” Poof—she dissolved in pinpricks of light-like fireworks.
Bam. Samuel. “I love you, Madeline,” he said as he gave me the necklace. It broke into pieces that morphed into fishhooks, snagged parts of his beautiful face, and pulled it apart in different directions.
Bam. Tobias flew around me. “Give me something in return.” His face puffed out and morphed into a rattlesnake’s head. A rattlesnake that appeared ready to strike.
I screamed.
“Just like you promised,” Snake Tobias said, his tongue flitting in and out of his mouth while his body coiled. His snakehead and neck undulated, and then lunged like lightning toward me.
I threw myself backward, landed on my butt, and backpedaled as fast as I could away from him. I had no idea where I was. There was a dilapidated, rickety, wooden gate not too far ahead of me. I flipped over onto my stomach and crawled toward it as the snake—fangs bared—slithered toward me.
The Messenger: Mortal Beloved Time Travel Romance, #1 Page 13
