by Jenny Lykins
“Where is your mother-in-law? Can you point her out?”
Bethany looked back toward the stage.
“She’s the woman on the left, next to the mayor.”
The gray-haired lady who’d been emceeing the proceedings stood, bundled like an Eskimo, on the left side of the platform next to the mayor.
“Thanks,” Shae called, then plowed her way toward the stage. The crowd had grown quiet in anticipation of whatever was going on. Shaelyn wanted to get to the woman before the ceremony was over and she lost her in the crowd.
The air seemed to hum with silent excitement. She would get to this woman. She would convince her to show her the ring.
The mayor’s voice boomed across the PA system, breaking the tension of the crowd. Shaelyn ignored him and fought her way through the sea of people.
“Shaelyn Sumner Hawthorne?”
She froze. Had that been the mayor’s voice, hesitant and confused, blasting her name out of the speakers? Had Delores had a change of heart and had her paged?
“Is there a Shaelyn Sumner Hawthorne in the crowd?”
She looked at the stage, then pushed her way forward. The crowd parted until she ran the last few steps. She bolted onto the platform and stood, panting, in front of the gray-haired woman.
The mayor turned to her at the microphone.
“Are you Shaelyn Hawthorne?”
She slowly looked at him and nodded.
“Do you have some identification?”
She blinked and fished her driver’s license from her purse. She handed it to him and pointed at the name.
“I…I’m a newlywed. I haven’t had time to get my license changed. Why?”
The mayor looked at the license, then handed her a package.
“This is for you,” he said, his voice filled with disbelief and confusion.
She looked down at the parcel wrapped in brown paper. Her gaze fell on familiar handwriting. Handwriting that belonged to the one man in the world she would love with all her heart.
To be delivered to Shaelyn Sumner Hawthorne at the opening of this capsule, December 31, 1999.
With a choked sob she tore the twine from the package and opened the envelope within. Through a blur of tears she read the letter.
My beloved Shaelyn,
What began as a beautiful dream has turned into a hellish nightmare. I am alive, Shae, but only in body. Come back to me and resurrect my soul, the soul that died the day I returned and found you gone. Don’t make me live the rest of my life without you. Don’t make me live with only memories of that mischievous smile. Come back to me.
With all the love I can send across time,
Alec
The sobs welled up to ache in her chest. She kissed the letter penned by Alec, held it to her heart. He was alive! He believed her. He was waiting for her.
She scrambled for the wad of brown paper she’d dropped when she’d seen Alec’s letter. Within the crumpled ball she found a tiny flat box.
Her fingers fumbled as she blinked away tears and whimpered like a child. The top sprang open. Nestled on a bed of black velvet lay the ring.
A gasp came from the gray-haired woman as a laughing sob burst from Shaelyn’s lungs. She shoved the letter into her leather jacket, keeping a death grip on the box.
With shaking hands she pulled the ring from the velvet, slipped the box into her pocket, then slid the ring over the tip of her finger.
Tears cut icy rivers down her cheeks as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“’Bye, Mom and Dad. Goodbye, Bri. I love you.” That one sliver of pain in the joy of her overflowing heart dulled and then melted like ice floating on a warm sea. It would be all right. Everything would be all right. She could almost hear her parents’ voices. Don’t take any chances, Shae. Go to him.
She opened her eyes and took one more look at the twentieth century. The chimes on the clock at city hall bonged. She scanned the crowd, who all stared at her, silent, and then a roar started as the clock continued to bong.
With her heart soaring in her chest, she slid the ring over her knuckle.
The dizziness hit as the roar of the crowd grew to frenzied cheers. Fireworks erupted as a voice boomed over the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the third millennium!”
The world spun around her, staggering her, buffeting her in a blur of noise and shapes and lights. She heard gasps and screams. She planted her feet to keep from falling. She closed her eyes and fought the nausea of vertigo.
And then the world grew quiet.
Deafeningly quiet.
“Shaelyn.”
The music of his voice, hoarse, choked with emotion, curled around her heart and forever took possession.
She opened her eyes to the most beautiful sight she’d ever witnessed. The sight of her husband standing before her, cheeks ruddy with cold, eyes brimming with love, shock, wonder. Tears.
A small crowd of merry-makers ignored them, their attentions focused on a speaker standing on a low platform. Alec stood over freshly-turned soil, exactly where the time capsule had been unearthed...or in Alec’s case, buried...only moments before.
With one final sob she flew into his arms. He clasped her to him and held her fast as his mouth crushed hers in a kiss that exploded hot, twinkling stars in her blood, unleashed the love she’d stored for months, released the desperation she’d held at bay.
She whimpered in her throat, laughing, crying, as the kiss went on for an eternity, as he held her, clung to her as a dying man clings to life.
“I love you. I love you,” she chanted against his lips.
He brought his mouth down on hers again, trailed kisses across her face, kissed her eyelids, then raised his head and spoke to her soul.
“I love you more.”
EPILOGUE
Cape Helm, Maine
January 1, 1831
Alec took the ring from Griffin - the diamond and emerald ring he’d had made to match the first - then smiled at Shaelyn’s gasp of surprise. He slipped the band over her knuckle and nestled it against the one that had brought her to him. Twice.
He looked into her eyes, thanked God that He had returned this precious gift to him. When his gaze swept to where her gown draped over her rounded stomach, he swallowed past a knot of emotion that threatened to unman him. He would spend the rest of his life in this woman’s arms, giving thanks for the fates that had brought her to him.
She smiled up at him with that mischievous grin, her features blurred through the white, filmy veil of her wedding gown. Oh, yes. For the rest of his life.
“With this ring,” he repeated after the minister, “I thee wed. Forever.”
*******
Baton Rouge, Louisiana
January 6, 2000
“Louisa! Look what came in a FedEx package! From a woman named Delores Hawthorne. It’s a newspaper article from the Port Helm Herald. Listen to this.” Jack Sumner read the article aloud, tears of sorrow, joy, and relief glistening in his eyes, and a certainty in his heart that their daughter would find a way to visit again.
Last night, in a bizarre turn of events assumed to have been a publicity stunt, a package was removed from the time capsule opened in the town square, addressed to one Shaelyn Sumner Hawthorne. A young woman claiming to be that person took the package, opened it, then according to witnesses, put on a ring from that package and disappeared into thin air.
It is not known how the package was placed into the sealed capsule ahead of time, and as of this printing no one has come forward to claim all this free advertisement, but this reporter is willing to pay for a ticket just to see that stunt again.
Look for Griffin’s story in River of Dreams
And Molly’s story in the Dreams series in late 2014
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Originally from West Virginia, Jenny now lives in western Tennessee with her husband, along with the Goddess of the Universe (a cranky
old “kitten
” named Mabes), and two Samoyed “puppies” named Czar Nicholas and Alexandra, but they answer to Czar and Lexxie, Trouble and Chaos, Dumb and Dumber…you get the picture.
She visits all the locations of her novels, and quite often brings home the “ghosts” of her stories, who then continue to harass her until she writes them down.
Check her out on Facebook under Jenny Massie Lykins, or email her at [email protected]
DISCOVER OTHER TITLES BY JENNY LYKINS:
Spirit of the Ruins (An all new novel, never before in print!)
Lost Yesterday
The Ghost of Christmas Present
River of Dreams (Griffin’s story from Distant Dreams)
Echoes of Tomorrow
Waiting for Yesterday
