Time Was
Nora Roberts
Contents
Also by Nora Roberts
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Special Excerpt from Calculated in Death
About the Author
Nora Roberts
Hot Ice
Sacred Sins
Brazen Virtue
Sweet Revenge
Public Secrets
Genuine Lies
Carnal Innocence
Divine Evil
Honest Illusions
Private Scandals
Hidden Riches
True Betrayals
Montana Sky
Sanctuary
Homeport
The Reef
River’s End
Carolina Moon
The Villa
Midnight Bayou
Three Fates
Birthright
Northern Lights
Blue Smoke
Angels Fall
High Noon
Tribute
Black Hills
The Search
Chasing Fire
The Witness
Series
Irish Born Trilogy
Born in Fire
Born in Ice
Born in Shame
Dream Trilogy
Daring to Dream
Holding the Dream
Finding the Dream
Chesapeake Bay Saga
Sea Swept
Rising Tides
Inner Harbor
Chesapeake Blue
Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy
Jewels of the Sun
Tears of the Moon
Heart of the Sea
Three Sisters Island Trilogy
Dance Upon the Air
Heaven and Earth
Face the Fire
Key Trilogy
Key of Light
Key of Knowledge
Key of Valor
In the Garden Trilogy
Blue Dahlia
Black Rose
Red Lily
Circle Trilogy
Morrigan’s Cross
Dance of the Gods
Valley of Silence
Sign of Seven Trilogy
Blood Brothers
The Hollow
The Pagan Stone
Bride Quartet
Vision in White
Bed of Roses
Savor the Moment
Happy Ever After
The Inn BoonsBoro Trilogy
The Next Always
The Last Boyfriend
eBooks
The O’Hurleys
The Last Honest Woman
Dance to the Piper
Skin Deep
Without a Trace
The Donovan Legacy
Captivated
Entranced
Charmed
Enchanted
Cordina’s Royal Family
Affaire Royale
Command Performance
The Playboy Prince
Cordina’s Crown Jewel
The MacGregors
Playing the Odds
Tempting Fate
All the Possibilities
One Man’s Art
For Now, Forever
The MacGregor Brides
The Winning Hand
The MacGregor Grooms
The Perfect Neighbor
Rebellion & In from the Cold
Night Tales
Night Shift
Night Shadow
Nightshade
Night Smoke
Night Shield
The Calhouns
Courting Catherine
A Man for Amanda
For the Love of Lilah
Suzanna’s Surrender
Megan’s Mate
Irish Legacy Trilogy
Irish Thoroughbred
Irish Rose
Irish Rebel
Best Laid Plans
Loving Jack
Lawless
Summer Love
Boundary Lines
Dual Image
First Impressions
The Law Is a Lady
Local Hero
This Magic Moment
The Name of the Game
Partners
Temptation
The Welcoming
Opposites Attract
Time Was
Times Change
Gabriel’s Angel
Holiday Wishes
The Heart’s Victory
The Right Path
Rules of the Game
Nora Roberts & J. D. Robb
Remember When
J. D. Robb
Naked in Death
Glory in Death
Immortal in Death
Rapture in Death
Ceremony in Death
Vengeance in Death
Holiday in Death
Conspiracy in Death
Loyalty in Death
Witness in Death
Judgment in Death
Betrayal in Death
Seduction in Death
Reunion in Death
Purity in Death
Portrait in Death
Imitation in Death
Divided in Death
Visions in Death
Survivor in Death
Origin in Death
Memory in Death
Born in Death
Innocent in Death
Creation in Death
Strangers in Death
Salvation in Death
Promises in Death
Kindred in Death
Fantasy in Death
Indulgence in Death
Treachery in Death
New York to Dallas
Celebrity in Death
Anthologies
From the Heart
A Little Magic
A Little Fate
Moon Shadows
(with Jill Gregory, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Marianne Willman)
The Once Upon Series
(with Jill Gregory, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Marianne Willman)
Once Upon a Castle
Once Upon a Rose
Once Upon a Star
Once Upon a Kiss
Once Upon a Dream
Once Upon a Midnight
Silent Night
(with Susan Plunkett, Dee Holmes, and Claire Cross)
Out of This World
(with Laurell K. Hamilton, Susan Krinard, and Maggie Shayne)
Bump in the Night
(with Mary Blayney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay McComas)
Dead of Night
(with Mary Blayney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay M
cComas)
Three in Death
Suite 606
(with Mary Blayney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay McComas)
In Death
The Lost
(with Patricia Gaffney, Mary Blayney, and Ruth Ryan Langan)
The Other Side
(with Mary Blayney, Patricia Gaffney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay McComas)
The Unquiet
(with Mary Blayney, Patricia Gaffney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay McComas)
Also available . . .
The Official Nora Roberts Companion
(edited by Denise Little and Laura Hayden)
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have control over and does not have any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
TIME WAS
An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Harlequin Books edition / September 2001
InterMix eBook edition / December 2012
Copyright © 1989 by Nora Roberts.
Excerpt from Calculated in Death copyright © 2013 by Nora Roberts.
Cover clock image © javarman/shutterstock.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
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a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ISBN: 978-1-101-56930-6
INTERMIX
InterMix Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
INTERMIX and the “IM” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
For Joan and Tom
Just for fun
Chapter 1
He was going down. The instrument panel was a maze of wildly flashing numbers and lights, and the cockpit was spinning like a merry-go-round gone mad. He didn’t need the scream of warning bells to tell him he was in trouble. He didn’t need the insistent red blip on his computer screen to tell him the trouble was big. He’d known that the moment he’d seen the void.
Swearing, clamping down on his panic, he struggled with the controls, using one hand to shove the lever forward for full power. The vehicle bucked and shuddered, fighting the gravitational pull. The G’s hit him like a wall. All around him metal screamed against metal.
“Hold together, baby,” he managed to say as his lips stretched back over his teeth. The floor near his feet ripped open in a jagged line three inches long. “Hold together, you son of a—”
He jammed hard due east, swearing again when it seemed that no matter how cleverly he maneuvered he and his ship would be sucked into the hole.
The cockpit lights went out, leaving only the whirl of kaleidoscopic colors from the instrument panel. His ship went into a spiral, tumbling end over end like a stone fired from a slingshot. Now the light was white, hot and brilliant. Instinctively he threw up an arm to shield his eyes. The sudden crushing pressure on his chest left him helpless to do more than gasp for breath.
Briefly, before he lost consciousness, he remembered that his mother had wanted him to be a lawyer. But he’d just had to fly.
When he came to he was no longer spiraling—he was in a screaming free-fall. A glance at his instruments showed him only that they were damaged, the numbers racing backward. A new force had him plastered back against his seat, but he could see the curve of the earth.
Knowing he could pass out again at any moment, he lunged forward to knock the throttle back and turn the ship over to the computer. It would, he knew, scan for an unpopulated area, and if God was in His heaven the crash control in the old bucket would still be functional.
Maybe, just maybe, he’d live to see another sunrise. And how bad could practicing law be?
He watched the world rush toward him, blue and green and beautiful. The hell with it, he thought. Flying a desk would never be like this.
***
Libby stood on the porch of the cabin and watched the night sky boil. The wicked slices of lightning and the blowing curtain of rain were the best show in town. Even though she was standing under the overhang, her hair and her face were wet. Behind her, the lights in the cabin glowed a warm, cozy yellow. The next boom of thunder made her grateful she’d set out candles and kerosene lamps.
But the light and warmth didn’t lure her back. Tonight she preferred the chill and the crashing power that was barreling through the mountains.
If the storm kept up much longer, it would be weeks before the north pass through the mountains was negotiable. It didn’t matter, she thought as another spear of lightning split the sky. She had weeks. In fact, she thought with a grin, hugging herself against the brisk wind, she had all the time in the world.
The best decision she’d ever made had been to pack up and dig in at her family’s hideaway cabin. She’d always had an affection for mountains. The Klamaths of southwestern Oregon had everything she wanted. A spectacular view, high, rugged peaks, pure air and solitude. If it took six months to write her dissertation on the effects of modernizing influences on the Kolbari Islanders, then so be it. She’d spent five years studying cultural anthropology, three of them in extensive field work. She hadn’t let up on herself since her eighteenth birthday, and she certainly hadn’t given herself any time alone, away from family, studies and other scientists. The dissertation was important to her—too important, she could sometimes admit. Coming here to work alone, giving herself a little time for self-study, was an excellent compromise.
She’d been born in the squat two-story cabin behind her, and she’d spent the first five years of her life here in these mountains, living as free and unfettered as a deer.
It made her smile to remember how she and her younger sister had run barefoot, how they had believed the world began and ended with them and their counterculture parents.
She could still picture her mother weaving mats and rugs and her father digging happily in his garden. At night there had been music and long, fascinating stories. The four of them had been happily s
elf-sufficient, seeing other people only on their monthly trips to Brookings for supplies.
They might have continued just that way, but the sixties had become the seventies. An art dealer had discovered one of Libby’s mother’s wall hangings. Almost simultaneously her father had found that a certain mixture of his homegrown herbs brewed into a soothing and delicious tea. Before Libby’s eighth birthday her mother had become a respected artist and her father a successful young entrepreneur. The cabin had become a vacation hideaway when the family had moved into the Portland mainstream.
Perhaps it was Libby’s own culture shock that had steered her toward anthropology. Her fascination with it, with society’s structures and the effects of outside influences, had often dominated her life. Sometimes she nearly forgot the times she was living in with her avid quest for answers. Whenever that happened she came back here or took a few days to visit her family. That was all it took to ground her in the present.
Starting tomorrow, she decided, if the storm was over, she would turn her computer on and get to work. But only for four hours a day. For the past eighteen months she had too often worked triple that.
Everything in its time—that was what her mother had always said. Well, this time she was going to get back a little of the freedom she’d experienced during the first five years of her life.
Peaceful. Libby let the wind rush through her hair and listened to the hammering of rain on rock and earth. Despite the storm and the rocketing thunder, she felt serene. In all her life she had never known a more peaceful spot.
She saw the light race across the sky, and for a moment she was fooled into thinking it might be ball lightning, or perhaps a meteor. But when the sky lit up she caught a vague outline and a quick flash of metal. She stepped forward, into the rain, instinctively narrowing her eyes. As the object rushed closer, she raised her hand to her throat.
A plane? Even as she watched, it seemed to skim the tops of the firs just to the west of the cabin. The crash echoed through the woods, leaving her frozen to the spot. Then she was running back into the cabin for her slicker and her first-aid kit.
Moments later, with the thunder rolling overhead, she clambered into her Land Rover. She’d noted the spot where she’d seen the plane go down, and she could only hope her sense of direction was as keen as it had always been.
It took her almost thirty minutes of fighting both the blinding storm and the rain-rutted roads and logging trails. She gritted her teeth as the Land Rover plunged through a swollen stream. She knew all too well the dangers of flash floods in the mountains. Still, she kept her speed just above the point of safety, negotiating the twists and turns as much from instinct as from memory. As it happened, she almost ran over him.
