branded on her heart.
Seven
On previous occasions when Mica had visited Logan, no
one knew she was gone because it had only been for a few
hours at night. However, this morning when Mrs. Harris had
casually asked her whereabouts over the past several days, Mica
realized that Sea Crest and Indigo Bay ran on exactly the same
timetable. To avoid having to explain her disappearances, she
had mentioned vaguely that she was working on a case and not
to worry if she was gone days at a time.
Now, she sped towards Charleston, knowing she had to
put some distance between herself and Sea Crest because the
temptation to stay near Logan had been so strong it had made
her physically ill. She stopped at a convenience store for
antacids, but they did little to dispel her anxiety. Just as the
gloomy rain battering the windows did little to improve her
mood. It was ridiculous to feel that way, especially after getting
so angry when she first read his note.
Because of the time in which Logan lived, she could
understand his overbearing attitude toward marrying her, even
if he had told her instead of asking. What made her so upset
was that, for a very brief time, she had actually thought about
doing it.
As soon as she got in her apartment, she called Katie and
asked her to come for lunch. She hoped a visit with her friend
would get Logan off her mind.
“Katie, you’ve known me all your life, right?” Mica turned
to her friend, who now sat in an overstuffed chair, legs curled
under her.
“Yeah, why?”
“Have you ever known me to do anything not sensible?
Have I ever strayed from the straight and narrow plan for my
life?” Mica couldn’t quell the foreboding that something terribly
wrong might occur because she had traversed time and ventured
into the past.
From the misgivings she had, she wondered if she had
somehow upset history. Perhaps her longing for adventure had
disrupted time waves, or ripples, or whatever science fiction
writers called them.
Katie looked up from the magazine on her lap. “What is
this, a cross examination?” She gasped. “Oh, Mica, have you
been picked up for speeding and need a character witness?”
Mica had to smile at her friend’s theatrics, but it was true.
She had never broken a law or done anything irresponsible.
“Come on, help me out here, will you?”
Katie scrunched up her face in thought. “Well, what about
that time we smoked cigarettes out in the pool house after your
parents went to bed?”
“Katie, be serious! We were fourteen.”
“I’m thinking...I’m thinking.”
Mica went on as though Katie hadn’t spoken. “I mean, I
always did what I was told. I had good grades and studied
hard. Why would this happen to me?” She looked at her friend.
“I’m a lawyer, for God’s sake. I believe in fact, not nonsense.
Proof, not some long-dead apparitions or a machine that signals
when ghosts appear.”
She had explained just a little about the strange people in
residence at Sea Crest, but she had not mentioned Logan. Yet
somehow, she sensed his life was connected to Professor Bigley
and the Barkers as much as Indigo Bay was connected with
Sea Crest.
Katie moved to the window, taking her hand. “Who are
you trying to convince—me or yourself? Like you said, the
man’s a quack. Did you do a background check on him?”
Mica realized Katie thought she was upset because of the
Professor. She decided not to alter that belief, because Katie
would never comprehend the enormity of what Mica had
done—even if she believed it, which was doubtful.
“I asked around town, since he said he has been there
several years before. He is what he says—a professor on
sabbatical from Columbia, investigating paranormal
phenomena.”
“And he thinks there are ghosts at Sea Crest?”
“Apparently. Look, I might go back. Come with me and
see for yourself.” Perhaps if Katie went with her, she wouldn’t
be tempted to cross that invisible line into Logan’s world.
Logan’s image flashed in her mind, and her stomach
plummeted. His kisses had fired her passion, and when they
had made love—Mica silently moaned, her feminine core
heating in remembrance of the exquisite torture he had put her
through. She tried to focus on her friend’s voice.
“I don’t know if I can get away. Matthew might not like
it.”
“Katie, show some independence! You slave away for Matt
and the kids every day. You deserve some time to yourself.”
Katie truly believed in her calling as a mother and wife, and
chair of the Country Club Charity. She never did anything
without Matt’s permission. Mica liked Matt, and Katie was a
dear, but sometimes...
“I’ll ask Matt.” Katie spun around and headed for the door.
“Gotta run—school PTA is this afternoon. You will come for
dinner tomorrow, won’t you?”
“Do you promise not to serve up another Mr. Right?”
“Honestly, Mica, just because Richard didn’t work out,
don’t give up on men. We’ll find you one yet.” She waved and
dashed out the door before Mica could tell her she had probably
found the right man, but from the wrong century.
Thomas Logan Rutledge—she must have been out of her
mind to stay with him. Now, what could she do about the
untenable situation she had created? Several easy solutions
came to mind—seal the door at Sea Crest, never go up there
again in this lifetime, or sell the place.
Since Logan had no idea where she actually lived or the
peculiarities regarding her arrival at Indigo Bay, she would
never have to answer his questions. But Mica realized it
wouldn’t be that easy. The fact was, she didn’t know if she
could let him go.
She grabbed a basket of dirty clothes and headed for the
laundry room as she thought about the man whose life she had
interrupted and who now wanted her to become a permanent
part of it. Scared would be an understatement for the sensations
gnawing at her middle and muddling her brain. She was terrified
by the fact that she was even contemplating going back in
time again, and her mind refused to dwell on the idea of actually
staying back there.
If Logan were a twenty-first century man living across town
from her, she still would have hesitated before marrying him.
She wasn’t sure she could give up her newfound independence
for a man again, even for a man like Logan, who epitomized
all the best qualities she could dream for in a life partner.
His gentleness towards her, his sense of fairness and justice
towards his freed slaves, and his humor and love of life were
ideals Mica held close to her heart. That didn’t even take into
account the way her heart catapulted whenever he was near, or
the s
ensuous heights they had traveled that last night together.
He symbolized everything she wanted and couldn’t have, all
due to a breach in time.
“Damn it all, anyway.” She let the lid to the washer bang
down, the sound satisfying to her frustrated frame of mind.
Her cell phone rang and she grabbed it off the counter.
“Hello.” She didn’t care if she sounded bitchy. That was
exactly how she felt at the moment.
“Michaela, dear, you are home. I tried to call you at Sea
Crest, but a nice woman named Anna said she hadn’t seen you
in days. When did you get back?”
“Hello, Mother. I’m not staying. I just came down to do a
few things.” Mica knew she should have packed everything
and come back to the city and to work, but she had time left—
time to figure out what she wanted to do.
“Well, as long as you’re in town, be here for dinner at
seven. You know how your father detests late meals.”
“Mother, I really don’t think I can make it.”
“Michaela, I refuse to let my only daughter ruin her life.”
“If you invited Richard to dinner, you won’t see me step
foot inside the door.” Mica couldn’t understand why her mother
wouldn’t let it go.
“Now, dear, I don’t see why...” Mica heard a sigh on the
other end of the line. “Please, come for dinner. I’ve found some
old letters of your Aunt Theo’s.”
Mica couldn’t resist, even knowing her mother would no
doubt manage to bring Richard into the conversation at some
point. “I’ll be there.”
***
Dinner proved more pleasant than she expected, most likely
because Richard hadn’t been invited. Since her mother refused
to allow her father to discuss business at the table, Mica visited
with him in the study after the meal. Trials had been scheduled
and were being handled efficiently by junior executives, though
her father reiterated his desire for her to return early.
“Thirty days, Dad. That’s what you gave me, and that’s
what I need.” The whole idea of taking time off had been to
come to terms with her life and make the necessary adjustments
to being a divorcée and career woman. So why did she now
have doubts as to whether she really wanted that life any more?
She seemed no closer to a resolution than when she had started
her vacation.
Even though her sensible, responsible side nagged her to
return to work tomorrow, deep inside her woman’s heart she
wasn’t ready to let go of Logan. She gave her father a kiss on
the forehead and left him to his work.
“In here, Michaela.” Her mother’s voice reached her from
the parlor, and Mica shook off her own misgivings about
delving into her aunt’s past.
“As I told you the last time you popped in, most of our
family’s historical documents have been given to the Society.
When we sorted through things, Aunt Theo must have set aside
these personal letters.” Her mother handed Mica a small bundle
of letters, the yellowed envelopes addressed in a flowing script.
“I tried to read them, but they don’t make much sense.”
Mica carefully removed the ribbon tying the bundle
together, lifting the first to examine the words. As she glanced
down at the stack, she noted the envelopes were addressed to
Theodora Josephine Ashley, but there were no street addresses
or stamps on any of them. “Who are they from?”
“Someone named Maggie. She must have been a friend.”
Mica’s gaze snapped to her mother then back to the first
letter that she now held in shaking hands. Maggie—Margaret.
Could there be a connection?
The first letter made reference to Theo’s ride in an airplane.
It seemed Maggie found that incredible, since she had been
frightened to death when George (her husband?) raced his
trotters with her in the curricle.
Those words didn’t seem at all odd to Mica considering
her aunt’s age and the fact that many older families in the area
still maintained a stable, even if they also had automobiles and
traveled in jets.
Mica read through more letters, but none mentioned
anything she could connect with Sea Crest and Indigo Bay.
She also noted none of them contained the year in which they
were written. The writer began with the month and day, giving
no indication when, in her aunt’s eighty-nine years of life, these
letters were written.
She silently read on. Thomas continues to study very hard,
but, oh dear, how that boy misses his father. He doesn’t return
home as often now that Elizabeth has remarried, for he doesn’t
deal well with his stepfather, Charles.
The parchment fluttered from Mica’s nerveless hands onto
her lap. Her vision blurred until the script ran together, and she
couldn’t see any of the words except the first—Thomas. Could
it be?
Had her aunt somehow discovered Sea Crest’s secret and
gone back in time to make the acquaintance of Logan’s aunt?
How did they manage a correspondence through time? Why
had her aunt never told her anything about this? And how could
she jump to such incredible conclusions based on the
appearance of a name that had, no doubt, been very popular
throughout history?
little attention to Mica. She placed a hand to her chest in hopes
of stilling the heart palpitations that thundered clear up to her
ears. She swallowed several times and blinked her eyes against
the pictures her mind conjured up.
Instead of blocking out the images, Logan’s face came to
view, his dark hair gleaming and a frown bringing his brows
together. She could almost hear him say something like—Leave
things be, Michaela Marie. Don’t question fate. Just enjoy
each day to the fullest.
“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to figure out which
century—”
“What did you say, dear?” Mica’s mother looked up from
her sewing.
“What? Oh, nothing. Just something I read.” Mica hadn’t
realized she had spoken aloud. She took a breath and willed
her hands to quit shaking as she pulled the last letter from the
envelope. The writing was the same, but the message proved
incriminating.
Dearest Theo,
Poor Thomas. I fear there will be nothing left of his legacy,
for Neil and his father are bent on destroying Indigo Bay. If
only my poor brother-in-law were still alive. While I love dear
Elizabeth, she just is not strong enough...
The script faded to nothing, water stains blurring the rest
of the message, but it had been enough to make Mica’s hand
tremble once again. She very gently folded the letter and
returned it to its envelope, half afraid it would disintegrate
before her eyes.
So there was a connection between her aunt and Indigo
Bay. Did she dare return to Logan and tell him that his aunt
had
written to her aunt, and the letters indicated Neil spelled
trouble? What if he questioned her about her aunt? How could
she ever begin to explain that the two ladies had somehow
carried on a correspondence even though far more than one
hundred years separated their lives?
Mica hung her head, rubbing her forehead with her fingers.
Logan’s aunt could have written the letters, but in actuality,
they didn’t prove a thing. They didn’t point to any facts that
weren’t already clear. The only supposition Mica could make
was that her aunt might have known about the door at Sea
Crest and had tried to tell her about Logan, whom her aunt had
called Thomas, so that she could help him in some way.
At the moment, she couldn’t begin to imagine how she
could be of help in an era where women were not acknowledged
as having the ability to do much of anything. The most she
could accomplish by going back would be to warn Logan of
Neil’s plans to destroy Indigo Bay. And that wasn’t even very
clear since everything alluded to in Maggie’s letters had already
happened in Logan’s life.
By returning, she would open herself, and Logan, to more
hurt. It had been hard enough to leave when she had. Given the
circumstances and progression of their relationship, she could
only imagine it would be twice as hard the next time.
Was it fair to Logan to return when she knew she couldn’t
stay? Oh, God, she thought her life had been complicated
before. The whole idea of going to Sea Crest had been to resolve
her conflicts, not create more.
“Michaela, dear, it’s getting late. You’ll stay in your old
room, won’t you?” Her mother’s question gave Mica something
else to focus on.
“I really should return to the apartment. I left clothes in
the washer. Besides, I’ll probably return to Indigo—Sea Crest—
early tomorrow.” She let out a sigh. “Mother, was there anything
else, any other correspondence?” Mica didn’t know what she
wanted to find, but her mind refused to relinquish its quest.
“What are you looking for, dear? Didn’t those letters
contain any useful information about whatever it is you’re trying
to learn?”
“No.” Mica refused to disclose even the slightest tidbit of
the strange coincidences. Her mother would have her committed