Capturing Caroline (14 page)

Weeks passed.
Sometimes she could convince herself that everything had been a
dream. But, of course, she knew it had really happened. The clothes
she’d been wearing still hung in her closet and the deep ache in
her heart wouldn’t go away.

Also, she was
pregnant. That was definite proof that Torrent had been more than a
dream.

She’d taken a
pregnancy test soon after she’d come back. Torrent might be gone,
but at least she would have a piece of him forever.

And at least
she knew her sisters were okay…more than okay. They were
magnificently happy. That knowledge sustained her.

One unusually
warm spring day, she stepped out of her office building for lunch.
Her co-workers had asked her to go with them to a nearby
restaurant, but she’d declined. Sometimes when they asked, she said
yes just to be polite, but the company of others didn’t suit her
much these days. She was still grieving. Honestly, she wasn’t sure
she’d ever stop grieving.

She turned left
and headed toward her favorite coffee shop. Adjusting her bag over
her shoulder a bit better, she glanced up and caught sight of a
figure sitting on a bench a ways down the street. She did a double
take, hope rising in her chest for a moment. The man sitting there
looked so much like Torrent.

Shaking her
head, she concentrated on the sidewalk. It happened at least three
times a week. She’d catch sight of a man who reminded her of
Torrent in some way—how he walked, his body language or the ring of
his laugh. It was cruel, thinking all of a sudden he was there…only
to have him not be.

This man wasn’t
Torrent, but she sneaked a peek at him anyway as she passed. He
nodded at her from the bench, one hand casually thrown over the
back. Nope, definitely not Torrent. She wished she could force her
heart to stop watching for him. Torrent was dead. She’d seen his
body, felt for his pulse. She’d spent the entire night curled
beside him. Torrent was as dead as anyone could be.

He was gone and
she was alone.

Swallowing a
sudden lump of emotion clogged in her throat, she continued down
the street.

Maybe she
needed an evening of running through the woods as a wolf. That
always seemed to banish the grief a little. Honestly, though, her
life would never be the same. Not without him. She was certain
she’d always be sad. How could you ever be happy again when you
lost part of your soul? The only thing that gave her even a flicker
of contentment was running as a dire wolf. She supposed it made her
feel closer to him.

It had
surprised her that she was still able to shift even though she was
in this reality. That particular transformation was permanent, it
seemed. She guessed it made her some kind of werewolf. In any case,
it was something she now cherished. She’d found a heavily wooded
area about forty minutes from the city and went there occasionally
to stretch her legs and clear her mind. Running as a dire wolf made
her feel closer to the man she’d lost.

She wondered if
the child in her womb would also be a dire wolf.

She reached the
coffee shop and entered. The barista behind the counter smiled and
waved.

They knew her
well here. “A medium mocha cream,” she told the cashier.

After paying,
she moved to the area where she’d collect her drink. People bustled
around her, but she stared at the menu over the counter, lost in
her own thoughts.

“Medium mocha
cream,” said the barista and handed her the coffee with a
smile.

She turned and
found a seat by the front window. Sipping her coffee, she watched
people walk down the street. It was lunchtime and most pedestrians
were headed into restaurants, but she couldn’t imagine eating. She
wasn’t hungry. She was
never
hungry. Eating was only a way
to ensure she had a healthy pregnancy.

A man caught
the corner of her eye as he walked toward the entrance of the
coffee house. Another man who reminded her of Torrent. The second
in a half an hour.

“Don’t look,”
she whispered to herself and purposefully gazed down the opposite
end of the street.

The bell over
the door tinkled as the man walked in. A moment later and someone
had sat down beside her. She didn’t even have to look to know it
was that same guy. He even possessed the same scent—spicy and
out-of-doors. She inhaled and closed her eyes. If she could find
that scent bottled…. Tears stung her eyes.

Oh, she needed
to get out of here before she completely broke down. She’d go
somewhere quiet for the rest of her lunch hour, get hold of
herself, and then bury herself in work for the rest of the day.

She pushed her
chair back and stood, careful to keep her gaze off the man beside
her.

Chucking her
almost full cup of coffee into the trash, she made a beeline for
the door before she dissolved into tears.

“Caroline.”

She stopped
dead in her tracks. The man’s voice sounded like Torrent’s. How did
he know her name? She squeezed her eyes shut. Damn it, she was
having a psychotic break.

“Caroline?” the
man said again. This time it sounded as though he’d moved
closer.

She squeezed
her eyes tighter and hunched up her shoulders. Only moments and
someone would notice her. They’d call the police. She’d be put away
in an asylum….

Maybe that
wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe she could have Torrent after all. An
imaginary Torrent would be better than no Torrent.

A large hand
cupped her shoulder, a hand that felt so much like his. “Caroline.
It’s me. It’s really me. Please, baby.”

She turned and
opened her eyes. There, standing before her, was her Torrent. He
was dressed in a suit. “How can this be?” she whispered hoarsely.
Her knees were weak and she felt like she might pass out. “This is
impossible.”

“Not
impossible. I’m right here, baby.”

She shook her
head. “You died.”

“Apparently my
life was destined to end in my world, but it can continue
here.”

“But…I saw your
body.
You were dead.
” She realized people were staring and
she lowered her voice to a whisper. “You had no pulse. Your
body—”

He shook his
head. “I don’t know what happened exactly. All I know is I woke up
here, in your world.” He paused. “Took me awhile to find you.”

She stared,
bereft of words. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t
understand either. Does it matter? I’m here.” He pulled her into
his arms and lowered his mouth to hers.

His lips were
real, warm and perfect. Tears streamed from her eyes as she threw
her arms around him and held him close, appreciating every inch of
his body, every breath she felt him take.

She broke the
kiss and stared up into his eyes. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it.
You and me, Caroline,” Torrent whispered. “We can be together now.
We can have kids. We can make a life without the threat of the
prophecy hanging over us.”

“It’s like
everything I dreamed of is coming true.”

“For me, as
well.”

She gripped his
arms, remembering her incredible news. “Torrent, I’m pregnant!” she
whispered.

Joy transformed
his face and for the first time she saw that the haunted, troubled
look that always seemed to cloud his blue-gray eyes had
disappeared.

Torrent dropped
to one knee and produced a ring box. “Will you marry me, Caroline?”
He grinned. “Again?”

“Of course!”
She launched herself into his arms.

All around them
the patrons of the shop laughed happily and clapped.

Holding on to
him with a strong grip, she closed her eyes as tears of happiness
rushed down her cheeks. Somehow they’d been given a second chance.
She wouldn’t wonder, wouldn’t ask questions. She would take this as
an impossible gift.

They would be
happy for the rest of their lives.

The man had a body made for battle, all strong bones, long
lines, and powerful muscle. His axe swung over his head and came
down with a
thwack
on a huge chunk of wood. Every movement showed the powerful
flex of his back and upper arms. Birds twittered in nearby trees
but she barely heard them. The scenery was far too distracting. He
paused for a moment to push his dusky blond hair away from his
face, perspiration glistening on his skin.

She wondered
what it would be like to be with a man like that, to have the
freedom to touch him as much she liked, to have those arms around
her, his bare skin brushing against her body, that magnificent
chest pressed against her breasts…

Kaitlyn had
never dreamed watching someone chop wood could be so compelling.
She could stay here all—

“Kaitlyn
Isabella Gannet.”

Kaitlyn jerked
her head up to stare into her sister’s eyes. Immediately the sounds
of the coffee shop filled her consciousness like air into a vacuum.
Voices murmuring. Cups clinking. Espresso machine whirring. She
grimaced. “Ugh. Don’t do that. You sounded like Susan.”

And just like
that, she was in a thronged downtown Chicago coffee shop, the scent
of espresso replacing the fresh smell of forest. She was back and
he was gone. How depressing.

Paige’s lips parted in a mischievous smile “I know.
Gotcha.
Where were you
just then? I’ve been saying your name for the last two minutes. I
feel like I’m having coffee by myself.”

So she’d pulled the old
sound-like-Susan
. Kaitlyn shuddered.
Even the memory of their stepmother could give her the
shivers.

She shrugged
and shot a smile at Paige. “Just distracted, I guess.
Daydreaming.”

“About
what?”

“Uh.” She
ducked her head and took a sip of coffee. Nearly cold. “Work.”

It was a lie. It was a
lame
lie. Daydreaming about work?

Guilt filled
her for fibbing, but no way was she going to tell Paige the truth.
Her sister would take her to the emergency room right away and,
while Kaitlyn wasn’t sure she actually shouldn’t go to the
emergency room, she didn’t want that. The doctors might admit her
to the psych ward and make her two fantasy men go away.

She knew she
was probably going insane. The problem was that insane was a nice
place to be. Nice enough Kaitlyn was considering relocating
forever.

“Daydreaming
about work, huh? Wow.” Paige tipped her cup back, draining her café
mocha. “Your daydreams are boring, sis. You need a vacation. Some
sand, a piña colada. We could take off for the Bahamas for a few
days or something. You could start writing that book you’re always
talking about.”

Her sister had
been nagging her to take a vacation for a while now. After her
divorce, Kaitlyn had thrown herself into her career headfirst. “Are
you kidding? I have three projects due within the next month.” She
glanced at her watch and jerked with surprise. “Speaking of, I need
to get back.” Scooping up her paper to-go cup, she made for the
door.

“Caroline
invited us for dinner on Sunday,” Paige called after her.

Kaitlyn waved a
hand at her, clutching her tote under one arm as she opened the
door. “I’m in…as long as Susan isn’t there.” She shot one last
smile at her sister and burst into the bright sunlight, hurrying
across the square to the office building where she worked.

Paige’s office
was just a couple blocks over. When Kaitlyn could grab the time,
they went for lunch or coffee at noon. Caroline, their other
sister, worked clear on the other side of town, but they saw her
often. They were close, the three sisters. Only a year apart, they
were all very different in personality, but surviving their
childhood had made them best of friends.

She wished she
could tell her sisters about the strange forays from reality she’d
been taking lately.

She’d called it
a daydream, but that was far too mild. It was a little more like
being sucked, mind, body, and soul into a dream for a few minutes.
Every time it happened, it was too short. They were a little like
blackouts, except with sound and pictures. Lovely, wonderful moving
pictures of two incredible men…

Shivering at
the memory of the wood chopping daydream in the coffee house, she
pushed open the door of her building.

Entering the
elevator, she found herself shoulder to shoulder with Evan, who
worked in accounting at the software development company she worked
at.

“It’s a hot one
out there today, huh?” said Evan, smiling.

Oh, great,
small talk. She forced a
smile. “Yes, yes, it is.”

Silence. The
elevator music soothed them with soft jazz. Wow, it took a long
time to get to the sixty fifth floor.

Evan cleared
his throat and turned toward her a little. “I was wondering if you
were busy tonight, Kaitlyn. There’s a—”

Oh, no.

“I can’t.” She blurted, and then froze, realizing how rude
she’d sounded. Evan was a nice guy, good looking too. He wasn’t
married, or obnoxious, and it really
was
time she got back to dating.
Yet… “I’m sorry. It’s not you. You’re an awesome guy. I’m just
really into my work right now.”

Evan took a
step back from her. He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“No problem. It was just, you know, an idea. An…elevator pitch.” He
laughed, but it sounded a little trembling. Nervous.

The car dinged,
stopped, and let on another passenger. She and Evan moved to the
back and Kaitlyn touched his arm. “Like I said, it’s not you, but I
appreciate it.”

“No problem.”
But he wouldn’t look at her.

Great.
She felt like a total asshole
now. Her sisters would kick her butt if they knew she’d just turned
down a date with a suitable guy, too.