Lightning Only Strikes Twice

by Fletcher, Stanalei

  He wished he had words to ease her anxiety. Some magic to take away the confusion. This situation was something she’d have to reconcile in her own way. Unlike when he first arrived, she wasn’t alone. He wanted to make sure she understood that.

  She glanced warily at the horse and lifted her chin. “I can walk back.”

  “I know.” He smiled at her stubbornness. “This is faster. Elizabeth is waiting for you.”

  Gingerly, she approached the horse and he helped her into the saddle before settling behind her.

  He slipped his arms around her and grabbed the reins.

  Her back brushed his chest sending molten ore racing through every limb. The warmth came, not only from her body heat, but from a complete lack of nausea.

  This wasn’t the first time he’d noticed the vertigo disappear when she was near. Something significant happened each time they touched.

  The discovery made his heart pound with excitement. As he guided the horse into town, he wondered what it meant. The more he was around Annie, the more questions he had.

  He wanted to talk with her, bounce some ideas off her, but it was still too soon. She needed time to adjust—maybe not as much as he’d needed, but the last thing he wanted was to push too fast.

  As they rode through town toward the Crawford house, he waited for her questions. Only she didn’t speak.

  When was the last time he’d spent this much time with a woman who didn’t need to listen to the sound of her own voice? If he hadn’t been so concerned with her state of mind, he’d have found it refreshing.

  When they reached the house, Elizabeth rushed out the front door to meet them. She must have been watching for them. “Thank goodness.” Her face was flushed with worry.

  Luke jumped off the horse and helped Annie down.

  Uncertainty and fear filled her eyes.

  His hands tightened around her slender waist and he pulled her close for a moment. “You’ll be okay,” he whispered in her ear. “Give them a chance. I promise I’ll see you later.”

  He didn’t worry too much about leaving her. These good people were her family. She needed time alone with Elizabeth to make amends. If she tried to run away, he’d find her again.

  As he released her, a wave of vertigo washed over him, then settled into the normal wooziness he’d been feeling.

  Annie swayed a little too.

  “Don’t go anywhere without me,” he said and climbed back into the saddle. He tipped his hat to the ladies, and with a kick of his boots, trotted the horse toward his place. There was no doubt in his mind he’d be seeing more of Annie Crawford.

  ****

  Annie watched Luke ride to the end of street. A wave of panic gripped her. He was the only familiar thing in this bizarre nightmare.

  He didn’t look back as he turned the corner and was gone.

  Suddenly, Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Annie and hugged her so tightly she could barely breathe.

  The wooziness intensified, but with Elizabeth’s touch, another emotion took over and grew stronger as they embraced.

  She felt as if she’d come home. As if she finally belonged.

  Elizabeth gave Annie another squeeze and stepped back. “Goodness, dear girl. I was fretting something awful. Where on earth did you think you were going?”

  “I’m sorry for the trouble,” Annie said. “I thought I could go home.”

  “I understand. But walking alone to Boise is too dangerous.” Elizabeth draped her arm around Annie’s shoulder and guided her toward the front door. “After Paul told Luke you’d taken off, he explained to us that you’ve been distraught over your grandfather’s death. I’m so sorry. I should have been more sensitive.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Annie didn’t want Elizabeth to feel guilty over something neither of them could control. “I’m just not myself yet.”

  Elizabeth ushered Annie toward the stairs. “The best thing for melancholy is to keep busy. Go on and get changed. I still need to put breakfast on the table before we go to church.”

  The sound advice was something Annie needed to hear. Stay busy. Don’t think too much. Thinking about her situation made her feel ill. Thinking about Luke muddled her even more.

  Back in her bedroom, she found a pitcher full of water next to a large bowl on the dresser. Elizabeth must have brought it up for Annie to wash and saw she was gone.

  Guilt rolled through her. These people had been nothing but kind to her and she’d made them worry.

  She’d had her reason for running away—a reason she could only share with Luke Maxwell. That’s exactly what she planned to do when she got the chance. For now, she’d take his suggestion and try to go along with everything. The path of least resistance.

  She stripped out of her blouse and pants and tucked them into the bottom drawer. She might need those clothes later.

  After pouring water into the bowl, she searched though the dresser until she found a washcloth and towel. In another drawer, she also found a brush and some tortoiseshell combs.

  A few minutes later, she’d washed and dried. The chemise and cotton underwear went on easy enough, but she struggled to get into the dress Luke bought her.

  The snug waistline and bodice were more formfitting than she was comfortable wearing. Fortunately, the wide flowing skirt offered plenty of room to move. Unable to fasten the last two buttons around her neck, she left them undone. She sat on the chair and put on the black stockings again. Then the boots. She tightened the laces in hope they would fit better. If these were her only shoes, she didn’t want didn’t want to ruin her feet.

  Finally dressed, she walked to the dresser, picked up the brush, and dragged it though her hair. She worked the uneven bristles carefully and didn’t tangle her hair too much. Taking one of the tortoiseshell combs, she pinned her hair up, letting the ends cascade down her back.

  As she turned away from the mirror, she caught a glimpse of herself.

  The woman who stared back belonged in a faded photograph.

  Annie clutched the edge of the dresser as vertigo took hold. The room spun. She thought she would faint. Several deep breaths lessened the sensation, but it didn’t completely ease. She wondered if she’d live the rest of her life fighting the lightheadedness. There must be a way to make it stop.

  Without looking in the mirror again, Annie straightened and headed down the narrow staircase to find Elizabeth.

  The kitchen was warm with the aroma of baking bread and frying bacon. Her stomach rumbled in response. She hadn’t eaten all her dinner last night. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually finished a complete meal.

  During the time she’d handled her grandfather’s funeral, work had backlogged, making it difficult to stop for meals. At night, she forced herself to grab a quick bite before going to bed. She’d even hesitated using a free weekend to meet with Luke to preview his plans for the property.

  Was that really just yesterday? It seemed a lifetime ago.

  A co-worker had cajoled Annie into going to the property, promising the fresh mountain air would work wonders.

  The mountain air had done something to her all right. If what she was experiencing wasn’t real, she was having one major hallucination.

  “Oh, look at you!” Elizabeth said as she caught sight of Annie. “Turn around, let me see.”

  Awkwardly, Annie did as Elizabeth asked, hoping she didn’t trip on the hem of her dress or fall over because of her dizziness.

  “I was right. That cornflower blue is so pretty on you. It goes well with your hair, too. I knew Luke had good taste.” Elizabeth freed a lock of Annie’s hair from the collar. “Let me button these for you.”

  Annie lifted her chin for Elizabeth to get at the buttons. “I suspect he paid someone to pick it out,” she muttered. The man was on the state’s most eligible bachelors list and probably had a personal assistant for just about everything.

  Annie noticed Elizabeth blush and realized her comment was rude. Embarrassm
ent heated her own face. “I’m sorry. That was ungrateful of me.”

  Elizabeth recovered with a smile and straightened Annie’s collar. “Well, you’re probably right. I’m sure he had some help from the shopkeeper. Luke is a man. What do men know about women’s clothing? I wouldn’t dare let Paul shop for me.”

  “I’ll be sure to thank Mr. Maxwell when I see him again,” she said, remembering he promised they’d talk.

  She glanced around the kitchen, looking for a change of subject. She didn’t want to think about Luke right now. If she did, she might start babbling about time travel. Turning to Elizabeth, she asked, “What can I do to help?”

  “You can cook the eggs.” Elizabeth handed her an apron. “Here. You don’t want to spoil your new dress.” She crossed to the table, picked up the egg basket, and handed it to Anne. “Don’t forget to wipe them off first. The skillet’s over there.” Elizabeth pointed to a shelf next to the potbelly stove.

  “Uh, sure,” Annie replied. She was glad for something to help her focus. If fixing breakfast in an old-fashioned kitchen couldn’t keep her attention from wandering, then she didn’t know what would.

  Annie put the basket on the table and tied the apron over her dress. She found a towel and wiped off the eggs. Next, she put the heavy cast iron skillet on the stove. It didn’t take long to heat. Picking up an egg, she broke it into the pan.

  “Wait!” Elizabeth hurried to the stove. She wrapped a towel around the handle of the bacon pan and poured some of the drippings into Annie’s skillet. “There. Now they won’t stick.”

  “Oh, right,” Annie mumbled. The eggs might not stick to the fry pan, but the cholesterol-filled breakfast would stick—right to her arteries.

  She held a large metal spoon over the eggs, fascinated at how the whites bubbled over the hot bacon grease.

  It wasn’t as if she’d never cooked before. As soon as she was tall enough to work the stove, Annie had learned to cook. Her grandfather insisted she make their meals. However, non-stick frying pans and microwaves were more her speed.

  “Make sure they’re done,” Elizabeth said. “Paul likes his cooked through the middle.”

  “No problem,” Annie replied. “I hope I don’t burn them.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “It’s not like you’re making a fancy cake. They’re just eggs.”

  Annie grimaced. “Right. Just eggs.” With no way to control the heat, she stood like a sentry over the eggs and watched them as though her life depended on their perfect outcome. She didn’t want to start a fire in the kitchen. That would definitely be a poor thank-you to her hosts for putting her up for the night.

  A few minutes later, Annie lifted the skillet off the stove. She scooted the last egg onto the plate with the bacon, pleased they weren’t too overcooked.

  Elizabeth added some freshly sliced bread to a basket and placed it in the middle of the table.

  Paul entered the kitchen carrying a bucket of warm milk from the morning’s chores. He poured some of the milk into a pitcher before putting the pail beside the icebox in the corner. When he was finished, he walked over and held Elizabeth’s chair for her.

  The tender look in his eyes when he touched Elizabeth’s cheek before taking his own seat made Annie’s heart melt. The love shared between the two was unmistakable.

  Annie didn’t know the details of her ancestors’ history, but now she didn’t have to imagine how much Paul Crawford loved his wife, she saw it for herself.

  A twinge of envy crept in. She’d never experienced that type of tenderness during her brief engagement and realized now how important it was to a relationship.

  She flashed on Luke, and how he’d tried to ease her into this unreal situation. He may have self-serving reasons for her cooperation, but he hadn’t strong-armed her. For that, she was grateful.

  Paul said grace, then passed the bread to Elizabeth.

  Annie couldn’t remember when she’d enjoyed a meal as much as she did this one. When her grandfather’s health had declined, he’d started taking his meals either on a tray in his recliner or in bed.

  Sitting at the table with people who appreciated the bounty of their labor was as enriching as it was unique. Paul and Elizabeth’s companionship far outweighed any damage the food would do to her health. She wondered if every meal at the Crawford household was like this.

  After breakfast, Annie helped Elizabeth clear the table. With the last of the dishes washed, Annie sat down with a hot cup of coffee.

  Elizabeth wiped the sideboards and checked the fire in the stove. “Services will start soon,” she said. “I hope you’ll join us.”

  Annie looked at the pretty blonde’s flushed face. “You mentioned Luke Maxwell would be at the church?”

  “Yes.”

  Annie hadn’t yet figured out how she felt about her situation, but Luke was a familiar face. “I think I will join you.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Wonderful! I’ll tell Paul.”

  ****

  The walk to the church took a pleasant five minutes. The sun had climbed higher and the morning dew had evaporated.

  As Annie, Paul, and Elizabeth strode through the town, several people greeted them. Some were dressed for services, while others seemed content to sit on the porches and watch the more devout stroll by.

  Annie marveled at how authentic the town was. She could almost believe she’d been transported into the past. Yet, as the thought of accepting her circumstance washed over her, logic reared its head.

  The notion of time travel was so ridiculous she didn’t think praying for deliverance would do any good. The only thing that made sense was to find Luke and demand an explanation.

  Speak of the devil. There he stood, waiting outside the church doorway as though he’d expected her. He’d changed his shirt and his trousers looked clean. He’d even shaved since she’d seen him earlier this morning.

  He reached out and shook Paul’s hand. “I hope you’ll allow me to share your pew this morning.”

  Paul Crawford chuckled. “As if you don’t every Sunday.” He slapped Luke on the back. “I suspect what you’re really asking is if you have my permission to sit next to Miss Annie.”

  Luke actually looked self-conscious at Paul’s comment. “I’m afraid you got me there, Paul.”

  Annie stared in amazement.

  Elizabeth’s laugh tinkled on the breeze. She nudged Annie, but didn’t say anything.

  Paul took Elizabeth’s arm and helped her up the steps. The two disappeared inside the church leaving Annie and Luke alone.

  “Were you okay after I left?” he asked.

  “How in the world has this happened?” Annie whispered, ignoring his question and going straight to the issue at hand. “It can’t be real. Everyone must be pretending. Right?”

  “No one’s pretending. It’s all real.” His gaze swept her from hem to collar. “Some part of you must’ve accepted. You’re wearing the dress I gave you. That color is a perfect match for your eyes.”

  The compliment heated her face. She didn’t know how to respond. “I…thank you for the dress,” she said lamely.

  Another couple walked up the steps to the church entrance, followed by a family. It took Annie a moment to recognize the Beacher children.

  “See, Ma?” Susie Beacher said to a woman holding a baby. “She’s here. Just like we told you.”

  The woman smiled at Annie. “Hello. My name’s Mavis Beacher. You’ve already met my oldest children.” Shifting a baby in her arms, she held out her hand.

  Annie shook it and then nodded to the child. “Who’s this?”

  “This here’s Matthew,” Mavis said. “He’s our little caboose.”

  Annie touched the baby’s soft cheek and smiled. “Hello, Matthew. My name’s Annie Crawford.”

  “Oh?” Mavis said. “Any relation to Paul and Elizabeth?”

  Annie almost blurted out that they were her great-great grandparents. “We share the same last name, but I don’t believe there’s a close rel
ation. The Crawfords generously offered me a room for the night.” That wasn’t too much of a lie. If Paul and Elizabeth were indeed her great-great-grandparents, she was at least three generations removed. That didn’t make them too closely related, did it?

  “Well, welcome to White Rock.” She hefted the baby to her shoulder and reached an encompassing arm toward her other kids. “Come along, children, we don’t want to be late.”

  After the family filed into the church, Luke said, “Nice recovery.” He offered his arm. “It’s time we joined the others. Would you sit with me for Sunday services, Miss Crawford?”

  She hesitated. The smile on his face seemed sincere, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to accept his guileless intentions. “I truly do want answers, but I don’t think I’m going find them in there.”

  “On the contrary,” Luke said. “The house of the Lord is the perfect place to find answers.”

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Not lost it, Annie. Found it.” Luke took her hand and tucked it inside his elbow. “Now that you’re here, I think I know what might have happened. In my eyes, that’s the miracle I’ve been praying for.”

  ****

  Sandwiched between Elizabeth and Luke on the wooden pew, Annie was uncomfortably aware of the Luke’s shoulder pressed against hers and his hard thigh inches from her leg. In a way, she was trapped. Even the pastor, who stood at the pulpit, seemed intent to keep her in her place.

  Every time she was tempted to lean over and whisper to Luke, the pastor pinned her with a soul-searing glare that prohibited any interruption of his fire and brimstone sermon. Coupled with Elizabeth’s sidelong glances, Annie decided church wasn’t the best place to discuss her situation.

  It certainly wasn’t the place to fantasize about the man next to her. She’d do well to keep in mind that he was at the root of her predicament. However, as she sat beside him, it was hard to ignore the rush of warmth and calm that followed each tantalizing contact.

  The sermon ended and her hope for a private conversation dwindled. Moments later, she stood outside the church with Elizabeth, Paul, and Luke, shaking hands with complete strangers who greeted her with so much warmth and familiarity it was as if she’d known them all her life.