I smack him playfully, bracing against the trickle of disappointment that he hasn’t shared anything. I give in to the swell of his good humor and ride the wave toward the shallows. His mind is like a bird, flitting here and there, and it isn’t his fault, any more than losing my memories is mine. Only, it would be nice if he didn’t flit pastallthe deeper things in life. “At least I’m safe tonight. She wouldn’t dream of looking for me in such a place.” I give an exaggerated sigh and AJ chuckles.
I fall asleep to the sound of waves and long, low breezes that swell like the voice of a man—a tall, dark-haired man with thoughtful eyes and gentle presence. Wrapped in satiny warmth, I glide along the beach among rows of trees. No—they’re people, and they’re staring at me. I take a long, slow inhale of sea air and feel soft fabric at my arms. The tulle veil brushing my cheek on the breeze.
Oh, I’m getting married. How lovely.
My forever…you are my forever…
But that cannot be. It isn’t AJ at the end and I’m not in St. Peter’s Church. The dress is all wrong, with billowy material that hugs no curves, and not a shred of lace. But I’m compelled down the beach toward the man in brown tweed who waits for me with a glow that rivals the sun. I’m drawn down that path. Toward this man, the same one who gave me the necklace. The one who asked me not to leave.
Name. What’s his name?
I open my mouth as I near him, but I cannot speak. I can hardly breathe, in fact, and the world is tipping side to side. I scramble to grab something, but there’s only wet sea air and blowing sand.
I study his face.Who are you?The world goes out of focus and back in. An odd tingling sensation, then I wake in unfamiliar dimness.
Chapter 13
Alumpybed,moistair.Achiness in every muscle, and the sun warming a doorway just beyond.
Not a doorway, an opening to a cave. Yesterday’s traveling suit is flapping in the breeze on a rock. I sit up and blink. This can’t be. What I’ve seen…it can’t be real.
But the panic doesn’t subside. I’m shaking. Panting. And I cannot stop seeing that face.
I scramble for a glimpse of my still-sleeping husband, to assure myself he’s still here. We still belong to one another and we’re together. His arms are bent back behind his head, his face peaceful.
Kneeling quietly on the other side of the cavern, praying I don’t wake the man, I soak a rag in a puddle and scrub away the dream. I shake sand out of my fawn-colored skirt and dress in the shadows of an adjoining section of the cave. The ensemble is quite plain, which suits me nicely. I crave anonymity on my errand.
My head aches with tiredness, but I pin a hat onto my hastily twisted-up hair and exit into the orange sunrise and glance intoa still pool of water. My tired mind senses a presence behind me, but there’s no one in the reflection. No brown-suited stranger with a gentle gaze, waiting for me to join him and exchange vows.
He’s not here. Likely not even real. I’d remember marrying someone.
But I canseehim. So clearly, like an image burned into the backs of my eyes. The outline of his head, the softness of his liquid-brown gaze.
AJ is still snoring with delightful gusto, so I tug the coat spread over him up to his chest, tucking it securely before slipping out.
On the rim of the lowest hill are a grocer and a post office, the latter of which I enter. It’s nearing eight, and the town is beginning to stir. I paste a smile over the jittery nerves that might just consume me.
What foolishness. In a few moments, my head will clear and I’ll see this for what it truly is. I haven’t married anyone but AJ. My husband, if one existed, would have come searching for me. Given me a wedding band, a token—something. What a lark, these dreams of mine.
But then…there was the necklace. I finger it beneath my gown.
My teeth chatter, though I’m not cold. A young clerk smiles up at me as I push through the door. “Good day, m’lady. What can I do for ’ee?”
“Good day.” I smile. “I need to send a wire, please.”
“That’ll be sixpence. Ten words or less, miss.”
“Oh.” I blinked. “Of course.” I’ve never paid for a wire before. Which suddenly reminds me—Icannotpay for a wire. I run my hands down my skirt. “I…haven’t money just now. Ihadsome, of course. I’m not due for the workhouse. Only…”
She stiffens, her welcome shuttering. “Sorry, but I can’t be sending the wire without the charge, ’tis how it be.”
“Please. It’s important.” The nerves I thought would pass have only gotten harder to ignore. “Please.” My voice is barely a whisper. Then my gaze lands upon a blessed brown box screwed to the back wall. “You have a telephone—here?”
Her lips make a straight line. “We ain’t so far behind the times. We’ve come a long way, we ’ave. Get a fair few holiday folk, we do. Like yerself.” She shifts her weight. “Need the coinandthe exchange to place a call, though.”
“Exchange. Yes.” I slip Mr. Gould’s card from the reticule dangling from my arm. Rather worthless, I thought. “I have a calling card. With money on it.”
She lifts her eyebrows. “Number?”
