Lightning Only Strikes Twice

by Fletcher, Stanalei

  Yesterday, the housekeeper had tut-tutted over him for not eating enough. Yet, neither Emmaline nor his father seemed to notice his weight loss. They saw only what they expected to see. They wouldn’t believe he had traveled through time to 1891.

  Hell, he wasn’t sure if he believed it. With each passing moment, the images in his memory grew fainter. Except Annie.

  He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the events that took place while on the property site. When Harry had described the accident, Luke was stunned. Yet no logical explanation supported the truth.

  Did he dream it? Did he dream her? The way his body responded to the memory of her satiny skin sliding under him didn’t feel like a dream.

  With a ruthless twist, he turned the shower on cold and stepped inside. Unfortunately, the few minutes under the needlelike spray did nothing to derail his thoughts.

  All of it had been so real. His memory of Annie, the people he’d worked with on the schoolhouse—the things he’d learned from Paul and Doc Smyth about how a man should step up and take care of his responsibilities.

  Rinsing the last of the soap from his body, he shut off the water and toweled dry. He would never take clean water for granted again. So many things that were commonplace in his time would have been considered miracles to everyone in White Rock.

  Luke went through the motions of dressing and packing his overnight bag to return to his apartment. Actions he’d performed a thousand times without thinking. He wished he could stop thinking about them now. Clean clothes, comfortable shoes...

  That’s it! His clothes! Inside his pockets was proof he’d really gone back in time. Where were the clothes he’d been wearing when Harry found them? They weren’t in his room.

  He finished tying his shoes and hurried out of the bedroom. Taking the stairs two at time, he called to the housekeeper. “Mrs. Bernardo!”

  The plump housekeeper lumbered into the foyer, wiping her hands on her apron. “Yes, Mr. Luke?”

  He stopped on the bottom stair. “What happened to the clothes I was wearing when I came home?”

  Mrs. Bernardo frowned. “They were very dirty. I washed them.”

  Luke sighed with relief. She hadn’t thrown them away. “The stuff in my pockets,” he asked. “Where is it?”

  “There was only your wallet, Mr. Luke. I put it in your room.”

  He’d seen his wallet on the dresser. “Are you sure that was all?” He was certain he had coins in his pockets.

  “Of course, I’m sure. You know I always check before I do laundry. Mr. Maxwell forgets the pens in his pockets.”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Is that all you needed? I have a cake in the oven.”

  Luke nodded. “Thanks, Mrs. Bernardo.”

  She turned to leave, then looked back. “Will you be staying another night, Mr. Luke?”

  “No. I need to return to work.”

  “Very well,” she said. “I’ll have your breakfast in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you.” Luke slowly climbed the stairs to his room. He’d stashed his wallet in the truck while showing Annie around the property. It wasn’t until he’d left the hospital that he’d put it back in his pocket.

  Where were the coins he’d had while in White Rock?

  Then he remembered. He’d given them to the shaman. A bribe to find a way back to his own time. After the shaman had refused them, Luke snuck them into the man’s pouch when he wasn’t looking.

  Without the coins, there was no proof. Nothing. The two and a half months he’d lived in 1891 never happened.

  Now he was home. Everything was the same. Everyone was the same.

  Except him.

  ****

  Annie stepped off the bus and zipped up her jacket. The unpredictable spring weather had turned cold. If she’d had her car, she wouldn’t have had to take the bus and walk five blocks to and from her work. She shuddered at the thought of doing the same thing tomorrow and hoped her car was sitting in front of her house when she got home.

  Sunday, after she’d settled in, she’d tried to reach Luke. The only number she had was his office and every time she called, voice mail clicked on. His office was closed for the weekend and she refused to leave a message some stranger would pick up.

  The only communication she’d received from him was the bouquet delivered late Sunday evening. The flowers were stunning. She’d known instinctively they’d come from Luke. Her stomach had fluttered and hands shook as she signed for the delivery. The door had barely closed before she’d torn open the card expecting to see a love note from her future husband.

  Instead, she found a pre-printed “Get Well Soon” with Luke’s name signed in proxy. She’d seen his real signature on the property sale papers and knew immediately the one on the card wasn’t his.

  Disappointment was too weak of a word for what she’d felt. As the evening dragged on and still no phone call, ugly, insidious doubts crept in. The more she tried to reason through the possibility they’d actually gone back in time, the more unbelievable it seemed.

  By Monday morning, sitting at her desk, she felt as though she’d never left. She couldn’t bring herself to call Luke’s office. What could she say that wouldn’t make her sound crazy?

  As she approached her condo duplex, she spotted her car in the driveway. Thank goodness! She hurried over to the vehicle and tried the door.

  “It’s locked,” a voice called.

  Luke! He’d come at last.

  She spun around, her heart pounding wildly.

  He wore a tailored silk shirt and matching tie. The custom fit of his charcoal slacks emphasized his lean grace as well as his wealth.

  Her memory of the rough-and-tumble look he’d worn in White Rock faded like the early dawn sky.

  He approached from across the street.

  Her pulse drummed in time with each stride of his long legs. She attributed the slight sensation of vertigo to the fact she’d been holding her breath and not a lingering side effect of time travel. Seeing him safe, after all they’d been through, eased a tension she hadn’t realize she carried.

  Annie stepped closer to meet him.

  He held out his hand. “Here’s the key to your car, Miss Crawford.”

  Miss Crawford.

  The street suddenly shifted under her feet. For a moment, she thought she’d stumbled. She stared at Luke. The cold on her face had nothing to do with the brisk spring breeze.

  “Miss Crawford?” he repeated.

  She snapped out of her stupor.

  Miss Crawford. Not Annie.

  “Um…” She glanced at the key between his fingers. His hand was achingly familiar. She recalled how he’d caressed her body. How he’d demanded and cajoled responses from her.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled and held out her hand.

  He laid the key in the center of her palm. The brush of his finger against her skin sent a quiver through her body. Her hand closed over the key. She looked up, searching his face for some sign he remembered the way they were in White Rock.

  A raw hunger seemed to flicker in his eyes. Then he blinked and looked away, his expression an impersonal mask once again.

  A flare of hope blazed, then fizzled. Her breath shuddered. Something was horribly wrong. He didn’t behave like the man who’d promised to marry her. In fact, this cool, distant Luke wasn’t the man she recognized as the one who’d been with her in White Rock.

  She took a step back. “Thank you…Mr. Maxwell,” she said softly, hoping her anguish didn’t show. “I’m sorry you had to wait for me. You could’ve left the key with my neighbor.”

  “One of my crew drove it down from the site today. When he told me you weren’t home, I asked him to bring your key to me.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to personally make sure you got your car.”

  He backed away too, adding to the distance between them. His gaze seemed to bore inside her, searching, but not sharing his discovery.

  “You seem well. No ill effects from t
he—uh, accident?”

  She wanted to scream. It wasn’t an accident. It was a life-altering event. It was their life-altering event.

  “I’m fine.” Physically. “It was very generous of you to send your doctor to examine me.”

  He shrugged. “It’s the least I could do. After all, I was responsible for you being on the property.”

  There it was. The words she was afraid he’d say. She was only an obligation. A duty to be dealt with before he moved on.

  Long seconds ticked by. A wall of awkward silence rose between them. She wanted to crash the wall, break it to pieces, but she had nothing to offer.

  “The flowers—”

  “Did you—”

  They both spoke at once.

  “You first,” Luke offered.

  Annie laughed nervously. “Thank you for the flowers. They’re lovely.”

  “I’m glad you like them.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

  She followed the motion then guiltily jerked her gaze to his.

  Heat swept through her under his speculative appraisal. Her hands trembled as she struggled to slip the key on her key ring. Giving up, she dropped it in her purse. “I’ll take care of that later.” When she glanced up, Luke’s expression had shuttered once again.

  He took another step backward.

  Unwilling to let him leave so soon, she asked, “Would you like to come in?”

  Something indefinable sparked in his eyes, lending hope to her next words.

  “For coffee?” she added.

  He swallowed, his expression apologetic, and looked at his watch. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I have an…appointment tonight.”

  Her cheeks flashed cold. Then the heat of embarrassment rushed up her neck. Appointment was another word for date. Of course, he had a date. There was a beautiful woman waiting for him. Waiting to wear his ring.

  Luke glanced at his watch again.

  She bit down on her lower lip to keep from begging him to stay.

  “I won’t keep you, then.” She turned toward her door. “Goodnight. Thank you, again, for returning my car.”

  He stood on the curb while she unlocked her front door.

  She stepped inside the house and looked back.

  “Goodnight,” he called. He waited a moment, gazing in her direction, then abruptly turned and strode to his car.

  In her doorway, she watched until the taillights of his car disappeared around the corner. She closed the door with a quiet snick, resting her forehead against the molding—her heart tripping hollowly in her chest.

  All day long, she’d ached to see Luke, had imagined the joyous, passionate reunion.

  Instead, he’d acted as though they were barely more than strangers. Two people connected by fluke circumstances.

  What should she expect? To him, she wasn’t his lover from the past. Nor the present. As far as he knew, they’d only met for the first time this last weekend. Instead of sharing their lives, their passion, in a time long forgotten, they only shared a freak accident.

  If nothing else, Luke’s actions proved that everything she’d experienced in the last three weeks had only been a dream.

  A nightmare that would haunt her for the rest of her days.

  ****

  Luke swore as he pulled into the restaurant parking lot.

  Annie’s reactions tonight befuddled him. According to the calendar, they’d only known each other a couple of days. Then why did he know every nuance of her voice? Feel like he’d traced the curve of her face with his fingers a hundred times?

  All the logic in the world couldn’t explain these memories of her. Could he and Annie have shared an event on some intangible plane of existence, during a lightning storm? Would that make it real?

  Maybe time travel wasn’t possible. Yet, something had happened. He wasn’t ready to accept that the experience was all in his head.

  The valet stood patiently on the curb waiting for Luke to exit the car. This was the last place he wanted to be.

  Tonight was the make-up dinner with Emmaline for missing last Saturday. At least his father wasn’t expected back from Brazil, yet. Had Luke kept his original date, the old man would have joined them and quite possibly have convinced Luke that a woman as beautiful and poised as Emmaline was exactly who he needed to settle down with.

  Even if he hadn’t already decided last week to end their relationship, his experience in the grove changed him enough to question things about himself and the direction his life was headed.

  Emmaline had made it clear she was ready to take their relationship to the next level. Breaking it off was the right thing—the honest thing to do. It still wasn’t going to be easy.

  He quashed the impulse to return to Annie’s house. He’d been through a lot, and learned a lot in the process. He wasn’t about to duck his responsibilities now.

  He grabbed his jacket off the passenger seat and handed the keys to the valet. Emmaline had agreed to meet him here rather than him pick her up.

  He hadn’t known how long he’d wait for Annie to get off work. He wanted to make sure she got her car—needed to see for himself that she was well. He was responsible for her getting hurt while on his property. For now, he put off examining any other motives too closely.

  Luke stepped inside and gave his name to the hostess. “Your guest has arrived,” she said. He followed her to a secluded corner table.

  Emmaline smiled when she spotted him weaving through the tables. Luke noticed several men sneaking glances in her direction. A month ago, he’d been pompous enough to enjoy being the envy of other men by displaying the long-limbed blonde on his arm. Tonight, her eye-candy looks barely made a ripple in his ego.

  When he reached the table, she lengthened her neck and lifted her face for a kiss.

  He obliged with a peck to her cheek that barely touched her skin. Her full, pink-glossed lips turned to a pout that he ignored as he sat at the tiny table.

  The waiter appeared, holding a bottle of champagne.

  Luke glanced at the waiter with raised brows.

  “I ordered their best tonight,” Emmaline purred, seeing Luke’s surprise. “After all we’re celebrating, aren’t we?”

  “Are we?” Luke said. The evening was taking a wrong direction, already.

  “Of course, darling.” Long painted fingernails rested lightly on his arm. “You were snatched from the jaws of death. We have to celebrate life.” She squeezed his arm then smiled at the waiter. “Please.”

  The wine was poured and Luke lifted the flute to his lips intent on downing the beverage.

  “To us.” Emmaline raised her glass.

  Luke paused. Good manners wouldn’t allow him to ignore the toast. He tipped his glass to hers and then dispatched the drink in a single swallow. It wasn’t as strong as he’d like, but it would do for now. Picking up the bottle, he refilled his flute. If Emmaline objected, she wisely kept it to herself.

  “I saw your father off at the airport,” she said, unfolding her napkin with practiced care. “He was very excited about the trip.”

  This time, Luke took his time with his drink. “So excited, he didn’t stick around to make sure I was well enough to go back to work.”

  Alarm shadowed her face. “I thought you said you were fine.”

  Luke set his glass carefully on the table. “I am.”

  “I don’t think you are.” She shook her head. The muted light reflected off her pale locks. “I can tell you’ve changed. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Luke slid the menu aside. He’d never really credited Emmaline with much intuition, but tonight she’d caught on to his mood quickly. He’d hoped to have a quiet discussion after dinner, but maybe it was best to get it over with. “I think I have changed. I suppose a near-death experience can do that to a person.”

  “All the more reason to embrace life.” She inched closer to him and leaned forward, offering an unobstructed view of her ample cleavage.

  Luke’s thoughts flashed on the predatory
working girls in White Rock. Emmaline had that same hungry expression. So different from the fresh innocence Annie offered. “You’re right about that. In fact—”

  “Your father hinted it was time for you to settle down.” She interrupted. Her palm slid up his arm and rested on the juncture of his neck. Her fingertips skated over his ear into his hair.

  “I know what my father wants.” He endured her advances only for a moment before pulling back. “Unfortunately, it’s not what I want.”

  A crease marred her brow as she sat back in her seat. “What do you want, Luke?”

  “I’m not sure anymore,” he said slowly. “But I don’t think it’s fair to let you believe we can be anything more than friends.”

  She curled her fingers and drew her hands to her lap. “Oh, but darling, we’ve been more than friends for months.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his regret sincere.

  She paled, her eyes wide as she stared at him. “What are you trying to tell me?”

  He met her stare with uncompromising resolution. It was his fault their relationship had gone on too long. He’d led her on, believing it would work. Except now, he’d changed. He could no longer live with surface pretenses.

  Before this last weekend, he hadn’t really thought about how hard it was to disappoint another person. This was one instance where he must be true to himself first. “I’m suggesting we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

  Emmaline gasped. Shock colored her cheeks an unflattering crimson. She quickly shut her mouth and brought her napkin to her lips. The glittering points of her eyes belied her distress. “You’re dumping me?”

  Luke winced at the crude term, even though it was true. “If you want to put it that way, yes. I was going to tell you last week, but—”

  “Perhaps we should save this discussion for later,” she said, lowering her voice and glancing around at the other patrons who seemed to take a furtive interest after her outburst. “You’ve been through so much. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “I know exactly what I’m saying, Emmaline.” His voice was firm. “There’s nothing to discuss. We aren’t right for each other, surely you can see that.”