Dream Weaver (6 page)

"Well, well. How news gets around. What, exactly, did you hear, and from whom did you hear it?"

"Rachel Beam saw you when she was gathering herbs near the meadow. Said you had a strange lady on a horse. Who is she, Christian, and where is she from?"

Christian took a slow sip of tea. He and Leah had been friends since childhood, so he forgave her inquisitiveness. "You want to know the truth, Leah? I don't know where she's from. Says her name is Gwendolyn Emrys, but her speech is foreign--"

"Foreign? You mean French?"

"Nay, that's the strange thing about her. I cannot place her speech. She gave me a fanciful story about being in a restored village, whatever that means. So where is she from?" Christian lifted his hands in a futile gesture. "I don't know."

Leah raised the cup to her mouth. "She sounds truly odd."

"Aye, but more than that. I think there's something she's hiding, something suspicious, and I intend to find out." Christian set his cup down and grinned in warm companionability. "Why are we discussing strange ladies? Pray tell me, you'll attend the frolic at the Chamberlains, won't you? 'Tis only a few weeks away."

Leah's face broke into a smile. "I'm looking forward to it. Are you going?"

"But of course." Christian gave her a steady look, his words full of promise. "And I want to dance all night with the prettiest lady there."

* * *

She should have known this was a stupid idea. Ignoring Christian's admonition about snakes, Gwen sat on a large rock in a meadow that bordered the
Youghiogheny
River
. She said the syllables to herself. Yock-a-gan-y: "stream that runs a roundabout course." Covered with scratches, her feet tired and sore, she stared across the river where budding oaks and hickories clustered on the far bank. The tree-dotted hills stretched back as far as she could see, crowned by low-lying cumulus clouds. Gwen watched the twists and turns of the river as the foaming waters rushed over rocks and boulders.

Wearing the moccasins Rebecca had lent her, since her sandals were too flimsy for a walk in the woods, she'd hiked for miles back to Christian's, wasting two hours when she'd lost the trail. Finally reaching her destination, a desperate touch to the oak tree had yielded no results. Nichts, zilch, nada.

If she followed the river, would it lead her home? Suddenly aware the gushing water muted every other sound, she turned her head in all directions, afraid a wolf or bear might attack from behind.

Now, Christian and Daniel would think she'd gone to
Fort
Pitt
to glean military information for the French. A sick feeling settled in her stomach, thoughts of the English punishments for treason a constant worry. She ran trembling fingers through her hair, her stomach churning with fear. How could she prove her innocence?

She swatted at a mosquito that had been pestering her for the past fifteen minutes . . .and missed. After removing her shoes, she left the dubious comfort of the rock and hiked her dress up to splash across the river's shallow edge, heading for a boulder where she could sit and let the cool water bubble over her aching feet. She winced at the rock-strewn river bottom but found the ice-cold water refreshing, just the same. The cool breeze bathed her face and lifted her hair from her shoulders, giving her a brief respite from her troubles.

So what am I going to do now? she fretted as she splashed her feet in the water. Where else shall I look?

The sun rose higher in a brilliant blue sky, reflecting on the river in silvery flashes. Sighing with exhaustion, she decided she'd better return, although she hurt in every muscle. She wasn't looking forward to walking the remainder of the way. She was a little out of shape, she realized now, reminding herself to go running more often.

Determined to forget her soreness, she struggled to rise and splashed back across the river, her hem dripping with water.

Fears mounting, she wrung her hands. Would she ever get back home?

Chapter Four

Twisting and turning her head, Gwen glanced around the meadow at all the people who'd gathered for the church service. Hard to believe that only last week, she'd been a schoolteacher in the twenty-first century, a time when cars, dryers, and dishwashers were taken for granted.

Along with the Chamberlains and Molly,she had joined the other settlers in this large sunlit clearing, a peaceful place where everyone made themselves as comfortable as possible on sawed-off logs serving as pews. Worn patches on the grass gave evidence of constant trampling by faithful, steady churchgoers.

After one more glance at all the settlers, she turned to Molly. "Every woman here is dressed in blue," she said in surprise.

"We all wear blue on Sunday," Molly said with a why-didn't-you-know-that expression.

"How come?"

Molly shrugged. "Don't know. It's just the color for Sunday."

"Oh."

She craned her neck and saw Christian on a log several rows ahead of her, to her right. He looked drop-dead gorgeous in his white shirt and black breeches, his burnished skin glowing in the bright sunshine. Those twenty-first century men with their tight jeans had nothing on him. As if aware of her scrutiny, he looked behind him and smiled at her.

For some inexplicable reason, her heart beat a little faster.

Perched on one of the hard, backless logs, Gwen twisted her fingers in her lap. How would she ever manage if she had to live in this time for the rest of her life, a time without modern dentistry or indoor plumbing, or even a blow dryer? One way or another, she'd escape this time and place. So she'd struck out on her first attempt to return to her own time. She'd try and try again.

How could women spend their time sewing, cleaning, baking, washing clothes and all the other jobs that demand every spare minute of their time? Only yesterday, she and Rebecca had spent hours mending clothes and hemming dresses for the children, a time-consuming, monotonous job. But it was her way of repaying Rebecca and Daniel for all they'd done for her, even though she wished she could do more.

This Sunday morning, she'd dressed simply in her borrowed blue calico dress and plain leather shoes. A simple straw hat--also borrowed--topped her head; no frills or fripperies allowed on this solemn day.

Gwen tried hard to forget her worries, tried to convince herself that Christian wouldn't seriously consider her a spy. No, all she had to do was prove she'd come from the future. Would he believe her? Not a chance!

All talk ceased when the minister's voice boomed over the meadow. He doesn't even need a microphone, Gwen thought. In his black suit and pristine white shirt, he looked as she imagined an eighteenth-century preacher would look, stern and uncompromising.

"My sermon today is from the Book of Joel," he intoned, his steely glance moving from one congregant to another. Long gray hair and dark piercing eyes reminded Gwen of a painting she'd seen of Moses coming down from the mount.

 
"'Alas for the day! for the day of the Lord is at hand, and as a destruction from the Almighty shall it come.'"

Babies whimpered in their mothers' arms and young children grew restless while the Reverend Endicott preached on the penalty for sin. Here and there mothers, their bodices unlaced, breast-fed their babies, then set them on their shoulders to burp them. Men got up from the log pews to pace and ease their aching backs, talking quietly among themselves.

"'Blow ye the trumpet in
Zion
, and sound an alarm in my holy mountain..."

Her bottom numb from sitting on the hard log, Gwen changed her position. How much longer would this sermon last? She glanced at her wrist, then remembered her watch languished at a jewelry store for repair, back in her own time. Damn!

She sneaked a look at Christian and saw an expression of stoic endurance on his face. Same here, Christian!

"Papa!" Robert cried as he jumped up and down on Daniel's knees. "Let us go home, Papa."

"Shh, Robert." With Robert in his arms, Daniel got up from his seat and walked back and forth between rows, speaking quiet words to the fidgety child. Gwen rose slightly and gave Daniel a questioning look, willing to hold Robert if Daniel wanted her to, but he merely smiled and shook his head. No doubt he's used to this, she realized as she settled back down on the log. The sermon ended, and the minister closed the Bible to lead the congregation in prayer.

Thank goodness that's over, Gwen mused, a bit ashamed of her irreverence. Boy, was she hungry after that long sermon. Now they could all eat and return to Winiaken. Grabbing the picnic basket, she followed the Chamberlains to a grassy spot where they'd rest and have lunch. Everyone else got up from the logs to stretch sore muscles and chat with their neighbors.

Byrony reached for her hand, a sweet smile on her face. "Come with me, Gwen. You'll sit with us, won't you?"

She bent low to hug the little girl. "Of course! I wouldn't want to sit with anyone else." Robert traipsed on ahead, clutching his father's hand. Neighbors greeted them along the way, a questioning look on their faces when they observed Gwen.

"We have a friend staying with us." After introductions, Rebecca offered the same explanation to everyone, and it seemed to satisfy even the most curious.

Kneeling on the cold, dewy grass, Gwen helped Rebecca unpack the basket while Daniel took the children by the hand and walked them over to the stream. All around her, others unpacked baskets, giving her hesitant smiles as they caught her gaze on them.

Rebecca drew wooden bowls from the basket and set them on the ground. "Christian looks nice today, does he not?" she remarked with a watchful glance at Gwen. "Quite the proper gentleman, I should say."

"Definitely." 'Quite the proper gentleman' was not how Gwen would describe him. Sexy was more like it.

Well, guess who! Gwen looked up and saw Christian approach, making her wonder if he could read her mind. Too bad if he could, because day after day, he dominated her thoughts, more than she wanted to admit.

He crouched down beside them, flashing them both a friendly smile. "'Tisn't every day that a man has the opportunity to see two of the prettiest ladies around at the same time."

Relief flooded her. Christian didn't appear angry or suspicious with her, so maybe he'd forgotten his doubts. She could hope, anyway.

"And 'tisn't every day we get compliments from such a fine gentleman," Rebecca said while Gwen kept silent, aware she was behaving like an awkward schoolgirl. "You will ride home with us and join us for the evening meal, will you not?" Rebecca asked. "You know how we enjoy your company."

"If you're sure 'tis no trouble," he said with a cautious look in Gwen's direction. Even in the sunlight, his eyes appeared dark and unreadable. She tried to guess what was going through his mind. Was he thinking of her? In your dreams! Like a magnet, his long sexy eyelashes drew her gaze. Odd how something that might be considered an admirable feminine trait could look so sensual on a man.

"We will see you then after the service," Rebecca said to Christian, snapping Gwen out of her reverie.

"Indeed." Christian stood. "I thank you for the invitation and the kind words. It seems I am much in demand today, because the
Conways
asked me to join them, so if you will excuse me?" he said with a small bow.

"'Bye," Gwen managed to say to his retreating back.

Christian turned around and gave her a slight wave, then walked on in his easy stride. Chagrined at her gaucherie, she felt the blood rise in her cheeks, her hands trembling as she set the knives and forks on the ground.

Rebecca motioned Daniel and the children over, which gave Gwen a chance to consider her adolescent behavior. It's not as if I'm a teenager on my first date, she mused as she forked a slice of paper-thin ham and set it on her plate. Biting into the ham, she spotted Christian on the ground about twenty yards away, talking to a slender, pretty woman with hair as dark as his. He must have said something funny because she threw back her head and laughed, the sound low and musical.

A stab of jealousy twisted inside her, but she scolded herself for such a foolish reaction. Why should she care whom he spent his time with? The man meant nothing to her, and if ever she escaped this crazy time and place, she'd never see him again. She paused, fork in hand. Why should that prospect bother her? Daniel's and Rebecca's low-voiced comments and the children's chatter became background noises she scarcely noticed. Tired of speculation about Christian, she could hardly wait to finish the meal and get back to Winiaken.

With her last bite of corn pone, Gwen stood and brushed the crumbs from her dress. About to call the children's attention to a squirrel scrambling up a tree, she looked around at the other settlers, her mouth falling open in astonishment. Everyone was returning to their seats!

"I don't understand," she whispered to Rebecca in a hurried aside as they walked to the stream to rinse off their dishes. "I thought we went home now."