Across the Winds of Time

by Bess McBride

  The electrician rattled about in his vehicle, no doubt pulling out tools and other equipment.

  “Why?” Darius joined me in whisper.

  I turned to face him.

  “Because...think of what this means. If he can see you, then everyone will be able to see you—the plumber, the mailman, Cynthia and Laura, who know what you look like from your photograph, my sister...”

  “Your sister?”

  “I forgot to tell you. She’s coming to visit the week after next.”

  “Ah! A guest! I look forward to meeting her. I wonder if she is the same sister—”

  “Shhh... He’s coming inside.”

  I glided out to the living room to greet Mr. Cooney once again, refusing to turn around to see if Darius followed. I suspected I would soon find out.

  “Mr. Cooney.”

  “I prefer Bill,” he stated flatly with a nod as he looked beyond me.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see Darius jump into action. He extended his hand, and Bill adjusted his tools to one hand while he grasped Darius’s hand with the other.

  “Oh, this is my...friend, Darren Fergland, Bill.”

  “Darren,” Bill repeated curtly.

  “The pleasure is mine, Bill.”

  “Well, if y’all will excuse me, I’d better get going. I’m gonna start in the basement.” His face seemed etched in a permanent scowl, but that could have been from years of staring at tiny wires in dark spaces. He lumbered off as if his back hurt, dragging coils of wire, clanking tools on his waist belt and hoisting another bag of tools over his shoulder.

  Darius turned to me with raised brows. “Darren? Fergland? Egads, woman. I am Irish, not German!”

  “Well, I had to give you a name that no one would recognize, so there you are.” I grinned without mercy.

  A nearby clunking and clattering indicated Bill had found the basement stairs leading off from the kitchen and was descending the narrow opening.

  “I think I should just accompany him to see what he is about.” Darius turned to follow.

  “Darius,” I warned, giving him my sternest look. He paused for a moment and gave me one of his endearing lopsided smiles.

  “Molly, my dear, I need to know what changes he is making so that I can make repairs in the future, would you not agree?”

  The word “future” sounded wonderful to me. I hoped there would be a future for us.

  “Please don’t mention anything about building the house.” That would be all we would need, I thought. Gossip about the strange man in the Victorian house in the small town, although Bill really didn’t look like he talked very much at any rate.

  “A foolish notion, indeed.” Darius beamed and turned away. Within seconds, I heard him clattering down the stairs behind Bill.

  Hours later, following a dull day of emptying boxes throughout the house, interspersed with curious visits to the kitchen where I listed to the frequent loud pop of a staple gun mingled with masculine voices, I heard footsteps coming up the basement stairs. I dashed into the kitchen to study their faces.

  Bill emerged first, an unexpected toothy grin on his rounded face, followed by Darius who put a companionable arm around Bill’s shoulder as they passed me with my mouth no doubt hanging open.

  “Your man here knows quite a bit about Victorian houses, Miss Hamilton,” Bill nodded approvingly. “Good thing he was here. Saved me a lot of time, tracing the wiring.”

  Darius threw me a quick discreet wink, and they walked to the front door where Bill said his farewells, promising to the return bright and early in the morning to finish the work.

  Darius waved him off and turned to face me. He leaned against the doorsill and put up his hands in mock defense.

  “I did not tell him that I built the house.”

  “I can see that,” I murmured. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, and I shook my head. What an irresistible man he was. It seemed he had even charmed the scowl right off the taciturn electrician.

  “You goof!” I punched him playfully in the arm—if only to break the spell he had over me—before I turned in the direction of the kitchen.

  “Ouch!” He pretended to nurse his arm as he followed me. “I am sure the term...em...‘goof’ is not a compliment, but your eyes tell me it is not necessarily an insult either.”

  I gave him a sly smile but held my tongue, as I handed him a glass of lemonade and set a bowl of chips and dip on the table.

  “This is just a snack to tide you over till dinner—whatever that will be. You missed lunch.”

  Darius sat down at the table and picked up a chip.

  “What are these? Fried potatoes?”

  I joined him.

  “Yes, potato chips. You dip them in here...and eat them.” I popped one in my mouth and crunched.

  Darius tasted it, and then took a bite. Crumbs fell onto his shirt, and he tried to capture them as best he could.

  I laughed outright.

  “It’s better if you put the whole thing in your mouth at once. They’re messy.”

  “And very greasy,” he noted as he reached for a napkin on the table. The next chip went into the dip, and I could see from the glaze in his eyes he was hooked.

  “These are wonderful. Just wonderful,” he praised.

  “They are, aren’t they? And they’re not good for you, either.”

  Darius loaded another chip with an excessive amount of dip.

  “Why not?” The chip went in, and he wiped at his mustache once again.

  “Because they’re oily and salty, and none of that is good for us.” I hurried to get some dip before it disappeared.

  “You have crumbs on your mustache,” I noted, my gaze never far from him.

  “Do I?” He wiped his mouth again.

  “So, how long have you had a mustache?” I asked. “Does everyone wear mustaches...I mean, did everyone? Does...” I gave my head a quick shake and snagged another chip. “You know what I mean.”

  “No, not everyone. I have always had a mustache, ever since I was a young man. Why? Is it displeasing to you?” He stopped chewing and fingered the thick band of silky dark brown hair above his lip.

  “I’m just not used to it,” I conceded. I would have loved to see the entirety of his mouth, certain that it was as beautiful as I suspected.

  “I will shave it off immediately.” He rose from the table, strode from the room and could be heard clattering up the stairs.

  “Wait! Darius! Wait! I didn’t mean you should shave it off.” I rushed after him and pounded up the stairs. He was already facing the mirror in the bathroom, my shaving cream in his hand, the disposable razor at the ready.

  “Darius. Please wait!”

  “No, I think I will do this. Bill looked quite comfortable without a mustache or beard.” He bent down to wash his face.

  “Bill didn’t have much hair, Darius...anywhere.”

  He straightened and grabbed a towel from the rack, and shot me a grin.

  “Will you be watching then? I welcome your company, of course.”

  I sighed, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut. It seemed as if there was nothing he wouldn’t do to please me—and I needed to honor that wonderful trait of his. I had to make certain that my needs were few, to keep him from going to extreme lengths to meet them.

  “Are you sure about this?” I asked.

  Darius nodded firmly and lathered his face, pausing once to regard the shaving cream in his hand.

  “I love this can—how the cream simply squirts out without the necessity of mixing it up. Wonderful invention.”

  I took a seat on the edge of the tub. “Well, yes, I’ll watch then—if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. You can come to my aid should I slice myself with this silly pink razor.” The brightness of his grin outshone the white shaving cream on his face.

  Darius stretched his upper lip over his teeth and began to scrape the top edge of his mustache with the razor. I winced.

  “Don’t cu
t yourself,” I warned, suddenly anxious. What if shaving the mustache took all the character from his face? What if he suddenly became a stranger to me?

  Darius glanced at me in the mirror and winked, and I sighed at the gesture. No, there was no chance that he wouldn’t be as handsome—if not more so—without the mustache.

  The process took a good deal longer than I imagined, and involved repeated applications of shaving cream and rinsing. At one point, Darius mumbled for another razor as the one in his hands seemed suddenly dull. I jumped up and fished another one out of the box, suspecting the pink disposable razors were never intended to shave off a mustache as thick as his.

  At long last, Darius took one last swipe with the razor and bent down to rinse his face. I lowered my head to stare at my shoes, afraid to look at him. Would I recognize him?

  “Well, what do you think, Molly?”

  I looked up with some reluctance. Darius patted his face with the towel and lowered it to his waist. Without the mustache, he seemed suddenly vulnerable, the expressions of his mouth now fully exposed. I stared at him as my heart pulsed in my throat. His face reddened under my continued ogle, and he dropped his gaze for a moment.

  As if it were even possible, he was, in fact, more handsome without the mustache than with it. His face took on a more angular look than I’d previously observed, his cheekbones suddenly pronounced. His mouth was symmetrical, wide and generous, with full firm lips, the top just a bit smaller than the bottom lip. At the moment, they were slightly curved into a tentative smile as he waited for my opinion.

  I swallowed hard and plastered a playful grin on my face.

  “You look very handsome, Darius. Good job!” I jumped up and passed him to exit the bathroom, suddenly in a hurry to put space between us.

  He grabbed my arm. “Is that my only reward?”

  I could do nothing but tilt my head back and meet his bright blue gaze. My gaze traveled to his lips—his beautiful smile.

  He pulled me to him and bent to kiss me. His kiss was the same, yet different—warm, insistent, smelling of the aloe-enhanced shaving cream. I rose on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck to bring him closer, matching the curves of his body with my own.

  I thrilled when his arms tightened around my waist. I felt at home in his embrace—loved and secure in a safe world where nothing could harm me.

  Where nothing could harm me? What did that mean?

  I broke off the kiss and slid my hands over Darius’s now smooth cheeks. He pressed his face into my palms as a purring cat might. I traced the line of his lips with my fingertips.

  “Darius?”

  “Yes, my love.” He kept his eyes closed while I caressed his face, but he continued to hold me against him.

  “I just had the strangest sensation that I felt safe in your arms—that nothing could harm me.”

  He opened his eyes and smiled gently. I knew I would never stop craving the sight of the movement of his lips.

  “And nothing will harm you, love—not while I am here.”

  I thrilled at his words and I believed them, but I could not dismiss the strange thought.

  “It was such an eerie feeling,” I murmured. “I’ve never known danger in my life. Well, not really. Nothing more than a walk to my car at night from the grocery store. I didn’t know I was feeling unsafe.”

  Darius’s eyes darkened slightly.

  “What?” I prompted.

  “Nothing, love.” His arms tightened around me. “I am happy that you feel safe with me. I only wish I could protect you when you leave this house.” He jerked his head in the vague direction of the door.

  I knew how powerless he felt at the moment, and I tried to put the odd sensation behind me to keep from worrying him. My shoulder ached again.

  “Well, I don’t go out there”—I jerked my head in the same direction with a forced grin—“that much, since I work at home. And you’re here.”

  “That I am, my love, that I am.” He bent to kiss me again. “Now go.” He gave me a gentle shove. “I really must bathe. I have a lot of dust on me.”

  I grinned, left the bathroom and wandered down to the kitchen to find something for dinner. A pizza delivery would come in handy right about now, I thought.

  Was there a pizza place in town? I realized I didn’t even have a phone book yet. Aha! But I did have the internet...

  Fifteen minutes later, I sat down on the couch in a state of bemusement—a large pizza on the way, to be delivered by someone at the local bar/lounge, which advertised itself on the internet as making the “best homemade pizza in Harrison County.”

  Darius came downstairs with a rueful smile, with Marmaduke at his heels.

  “I really must wash these clothes out, but I am not quite sure what I would wear in the interim.”

  Relaxing on the couch and marveling at the modern world of online dining, I tilted my head and regarded him with amusement as he surveyed his clothing with mild distaste.

  “Well, I could loan you my bathrobe!” I pumped my eyebrows and smirked.

  Darius put his hands up in mock dismay. “No, thank you. I will just have to wash these things out tonight and hope they are dry by morning.”

  “I wish the washing machine and dryer were working, but they’re not hooked up yet.”

  Darius came to sit beside me, and Marmaduke sauntered over to the window and jumped on the sill to survey his domain.

  Sassy, resting on the back of the couch, immediately jumped on Darius’s lap. He ran a hand along her black and orange marbled coat.

  “Sometimes, Molly, I have no idea what you are talking about. I wonder if it would help if you spoke slower.” He shook his head with a playful grin. “What is a dryer?”

  I chuckled.

  “We wash our clothes in machines now. None of this scrub board stuff anymore.”

  Darius nodded.

  “Ah, I understand. But the wiring and plumbing are not adequate for these machines, is that correct?”

  Sassy’s purring grew loud. I fought the strongest urge to relocate the cat to the floor and jump onto Darius’s lap myself. I knew I could purr louder than Sassy. But I controlled myself...again, and focused on the subject at hand.

  “Yes, that’s it. You catch on fast, Darius.”

  “Thank you. I have always been known as a quick study.” He gave his head a mock conceited shake and pretended to preen.

  The sound of a car in the drive caught my attention, and I jumped up.

  “The pizza is here. That was fast!”

  I scanned the living room for my purse. Where had I left it?

  “Peetsah,” Darius rose to his feet. “What is that?”

  “Pizza, pizza. Food. Italian food—kind of.”

  I ran to the kitchen and found my bag on the counter. Grabbing my wallet, I headed back to the front door, and pulled it open.

  “Surprise!” my sister squealed.

  Chapter Ten

  I froze, wallet in hand, staring at the apparition.

  “I wanted to surprise you,” Sara crowed. “I knew you’d be feeling kind of lonely in this big old house by yourself. Not to mention I thought you could use some moral support with the electrician and plumber.”

  I watched in horror as Sara slipped her black soft-sided bag off her shoulder and dropped it onto the porch.

  “Can I come in? Are you all right?” Sara scanned my face.

  I shot a desperate look over my shoulder, expecting to see Darius standing in the living room behind me where I’d last seen him, and wondering what on earth I was going to tell my sister, but Darius was not in view. Sassy had disappeared as well. Marmaduke had come to stand by my feet.

  “No! Yes! I’m fine. Yes, of course, you can come in. I-I...”

  Stuttering, I pulled the door open and let Sara in. Another scan of the living room and entry to the kitchen showed no sign of Darius.

  “I’m stunned,” I muttered. A thousand thoughts ran through my mind at the moment—none of them coher
ent or productive.

  Sara laughed and pushed the loose curls escaping her ponytail back off her face.

  “You look it. I guess I did surprise you.” I saw Sara’s gaze stray to the blanket and pillow on the couch, and I babbled the first thing that came to mind.

  “I slept on the couch last night. You know... New house, strange sounds.”

  Sara dropped her bag on the floor.

  “Yeah, I know. Well, might as well leave them here. I’ll take the couch. You still don’t have a spare bed, do you?” She rubbed her hands and looked around the room.

  I shook my head in dumb silence. The complications of Sara’s surprise visit seemed insurmountable...and all of them involved Darius in some way.

  “No, you couldn’t fit a lot of furniture in your apartment, could you?”

  Another mute nod. Where was Darius going to sleep? Eat? Where was he now?

  Sara brought her attention back to me. “What’s up? You’re quiet. It’s all right that I came early, isn’t it?”

  Straining to listen for any sound from Darius to tell me where he was, I nodded.

  “Oh, sure. Sure. Yeah, that’s great.” I forced myself to focus on Sara and stepped forward to give her a belated hug. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Well, it hasn’t been that long,” Sara shrugged with a smile. “Like I said, I was worried about you all alone out here.”

  I tilted my head. Alone? When?

  “I’ve been so busy I haven’t noticed. Laura and Cynthia came by and took me ‘out on the town’ to meet the local folks, and the movers were here and the electrician and—” I pulled herself up short.

  “And?” Sara moved away toward the kitchen with the air of someone inspecting a house, and I chased after her, willing myself to show a little restraint and avoid blurting out the truth—at least the truth as I understood it.

  Darius. Where are you? Please don’t jump out and scare her...us.

  “Wow! The new appliances look great.” Sara threw me a look over her shoulder. “You said the electrician had already been here today?”

  I noted the door to the basement was closed. Had Darius gone down there? Was he in the back yard again? I froze for a moment. He hadn’t disappeared, had he?