He smiled at me and nodded. “We will pray.”
“But not right now,” I said as I stood on tiptoe and kissed my husband. “For now, I have something else in mind.”
He grinned and lifted me into his arms, which had become my favorite place in the world.
30
GRACE
Before I opened my eyes the morning after Hope’s wedding, I lay for a moment, allowing the warmth of the sunshine to bathe my face. The melancholy I’d felt for the past eight days filled my soul even before I was fully awake. A constant reminder of everything I’d lost.
But I didn’t want to ruin Hope’s happiness. She deserved so much better from me.
I started to get out of bed, but a strange pain shot through my back, and I moaned.
Why did my back hurt?
I tried to open my eyes, but they were heavier than usual, and it was hard to focus. I blinked several times, but I couldn’t seem to wake up.
“Grace?”
I froze, my heart pounding a strange rhythm at the sound of that voice.
“Mon amour, can you hear me?”
“Luc?” I said his name, but my throat was dry, and my mouth felt like cotton. I forced my eyes to open, and they slowly cleared.
Luc rose from a chair near my bed and took my hand in his. “Grace!” He knelt beside me and lifted my hand to his lips, tears in his eyes. “Thank God you’ve come back to us.”
My gaze traveled around the large room, confusion clouding my mind. The tall ceiling was white and rounded, and large bright windows were positioned between each bed.
I was in a hospital.
In 1912.
“Your mother just left for a moment,” he said as he held my hand between his, using his shoulder to wipe a tear from his cheek. “She will be so relieved.”
“What happened?” I whispered, my voice not wanting to work.
“Your aeroplane malfunctioned on Long Beach nine days ago. You’ve been unconscious ever since.”
“Unconscious?” Realization dawned, and I stared at him, breathing hard. I hadn’t died. My physical body had been unable to wake up here, so my conscious mind stayed in 1692 until I was well enough to wake up again. “What day is it?”
“October 10th.”
Which meant tomorrow would be the 11th when I woke up in 1692. I still had time to make my final decision.
“The doctors didn’t know if you would ever wake up again.” Luc blinked away his tears. His smile was brilliant as he said, “But your parents and I have not stopped praying for or believing in a miracle.”
Tears of relief and love dripped down the side of my face into my hair. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you. I have been living in 1692 for the past eight days, believing I died here and that I would never see you again.”
“I’m here, mon amour.” He gently wiped away my tears, love in his voice. “I will always be here.”
“Grace!” Mama’s voice traveled across the distance of the large hospital ward. There were at least a dozen other beds and many female patients, but the beds were spaced far enough apart that I felt some semblance of privacy.
“Mama.” I cried happy tears as she rushed up to my bed and gently kissed my cheek.
“Thank God you’re awake.”
