Dream Weaver (3 page)

He must think clearly. "Can I trust you to wait here whilst I fetch my horse and--"

"No! If you'd rather, just give me a blanket, and I can sleep on the floor." She nodded toward the open door. "Or I can go outside, as long as I'm next to your cabin. But please, don't make me leave your place."

"But you can't--"

"Please!"

Aware she was fast losing control, he fought for composure. "Very well, I don't want to argue anymore. You may use my bed, and I'll sleep on the floor." He pointed his finger at her. "But tomorrow, we leave for the Chamberlains."

A slow smile spread across her face. "Thanks a lot, Dr. Norgard, but I can sleep on the floor. You don't have to--"

"Miss Emrys, pray don't try my patience."

* * *

Unable to see a thing in the black loft, Gwen shivered from the frosty night air, trying to convince herself she'd be back in her own neighborhood tomorrow. Night sounds reverberated through the forest. Crickets chirped and frogs croaked. A wolf howled in the distance, sending a chill along her spine.

No way would she put her fate in Christian Norgard's hands, even if he was a doctor. She'd relied on herself long enough, and she could do it now, too.

After all that had happened within the last few years, this was too much. She still hadn't recovered from her parents' murder a couple of years before. Then her sister Melissa's husband had died of cancer. Only a few months ago, her boyfriend, Matt, had ditched her for another woman. Now this!

A little serenity in her life--was that asking too much? For someone who'd always enjoyed excitement and a good time, now she wanted nothing but peace and quiet, no complications. But she was afraid she wouldn't get her wish.

Besides, other people depended on her. She'd always considered herself a responsible person, able to handle her own problems and willing to help others.

Take her teaching job, for instance. Although those kids could be hellraisers at times, she enjoyed her position at the local high school, teaching American history. She had to get back to those kids, back to her job!

As sponsor for the History Club, she got a big kick out of mingling with young people, and she liked to think those students needed her. Gwen thought of Elaine, a shy, friendless girl whose mother was an alcoholic. Poor kid, who always took her troubles to her--Gwen--because no one else cared. And what about Joey, whose two older brothers were honor roll students? That was a tough act for Joey to follow, this teenager who barely made passing grades.

Most important, she had to return to her widowed younger sister, Melissa, and Melissa's three-year old, Zachary. Her closest relatives, she missed them already. She missed holding Zachary on her lap, reading him stories. She remembered his sweet smile and quick laugh, his talkativeness when he got excited. How could she bear being away from him?

This is all some crazy quirk in time, she fretted as she pulled the woolen blanket up to her chin. She turned onto her side and closed her eyes, willing sleep to come, although one question after another kept her awake.

Could this really be 1762? she wondered, desperate to deny the fix she was in. The whole idea was too weird to even think about, and this trip just one more thing to prevent her from getting her life back on an even keel.

But if it was 1762, what then?

Chapter Two

The following morning, Gwen rode behind Christian, absorbing the warmth of his skin, her arms wrapped around his waist, her breasts cushioned against his back. His masculine scent, a blend of pine soap and the outdoors, mingled with the fresh, woodsy aromas of the forest, an intriguing combination.

The awkward position on the bay did little for her peace of mind. Still confused about where and when she was, she shifted her hips, attempting to distance herself from the hard, muscular body she clasped. She watched the horse's head as it plodded along, its long mane flowing in the breeze. She felt the ripple of its muscles as it strained up a hill.

It had taken the longest time for her eyes to adjust to the thick green gloom of the woods, where a tangle of vines stretched across the treetops and blocked the sunlight. Now accustomed to the dark, she could see more clearly. But where were the stores, the office buildings, the modern roads?

If only she could see a way out of her predicament, her jumbled thoughts persisted. She had to get back to her friends, her job, her life! She'd slept restlessly all night, convinced that when she awoke this morning, she'd be back in her own neighborhood again. But no, it hadn't worked out that way.

Her position on the horse made conversation difficult, but she didn't see how she could sit like a dummy for the rest of their journey. So, after riding in silence for long minutes with her rioting thoughts for companionship, Gwen searched for something to say.

"Your family, Dr. Norgard?" Gwen regretted the question immediately. Since he lived alone, it was obvious his family was--

"Dead, Miss Emrys," Christian said after a brief pause. "Smallpox...years ago, my parents, two brothers, and a sister."

"I'm so sorry!" What an inadequate response. Such a tragedy as he'd suffered was beyond comprehension.

"And yet you were spared," she said after another uncomfortable silence.

"Aye. It happened while I stayed with a family in
Carlisle
, learning carpentry. I was away from home when they died!" he said in a choking voice. "By the time I received word and made my way back home, they were buried, the house burned to the ground."

"Oh, no!"

"No one else could live there." He paused, pushing a low-hanging branch out of the way. "That's when I decided to become a doctor and save others from smallpox. After selling the land--all of it cultivated, mind you--I finished my apprenticeship and journeyed to
Philadelphia
to study medicine."

"You went to medical school in
Philadelphia
?"

"Nay, Miss Emrys, there are no medical schools there, but I studied medicine under Dr. John Bond at the hospital in
Philadelphia
."

"Hard to believe you're a doctor." She bit her lower lip. "What I mean is--"

"I assure you I am a doctor. That's why I want to help you.”

"I don't want your help. I don't need anyone's help, Mr., uh, Dr. Norgard. I'll be all right once I find my home again."

"Look, Miss Emrys, it's obvious you have a problem. So I'm merely offering my professional assistance."

"I already told you I can take care of myself. Just because I'm lost..."

He threw a glance behind him. "Righto!"

"Listen, I've learned not to depend on other people, not even a doctor. This 'problem', as you call it, is bound to straighten itself out soon."

"So how do you propose to find your way back to your home, if indeed, you are lost?"

"I'll find a way, or try, at any rate."

"Miss Emrys, 'tis apparent this discussion will avail us naught. And 'tis not necessary for you to address me as Dr. Norgard. I'd much prefer you call me Christian," he suggested in an easy manner.

"Yeah, sure. And you can call me Gwen."

A long period of silence stretched between them as the mare plodded up a steep hill, causing Gwen to slip back from the saddle, forcing her to clutch Christian more tightly. As he pushed another branch out of the way, she observed his hands, the fingers dexterous yet strong, as if he could perform the most delicate surgery or plant a fence post.

Determined to put Christian from her mind, Gwen concentrated on the dark forest, where deep green moss decorated the tops of flat rocks, and blue phlox flourished among the understory. Springtime smells drifted her way, borne on a light, cool breeze.

"Smallpox," Christian mused aloud, reverting to their earlier discussion. "I was inoculated while I was in
Philadelphia
. Now I'd like to do the same for everyone within miles, but 'tis not so easy. Distance is a problem, and there is much antagonism against inoculation."

"How come?"

"'Tis the way people are...superstitious."

"Geez!"

"What did you say?"

"Just an expression."

"Umm."

Gwen shifted her position again, the only sound the clop, clop of the horse's hooves along the rocky dirt trail. A bird's warble as it flitted from tree to tree broke the forest silence. A garter snake rustled out from the bracken and slithered across their path.

"My parents are dead, also," she said when the path leveled again. "I have only one sister, but we were a happy family. My parents owned an antique store and after...after they died, I bought a house with my share of the inheritance."

"Inheritance?"

"Well, they had...investments," she improvised. No point in trying to explain stocks and mutual funds. "Anyway, that's where I live . . . uh, lived.”

"Where is your house?" he asked as the horse followed the twists and turns of the narrow, rockstrewn path. "How far from here? You gave me the impression you were lost..."

A sick feeling came over her. Too late to back out now. “Don’t you remember? I told
 
you I live near here, but the house has disappeared." She waited for him to say something, but his silence told her enough.

After a long moment, he released a heavy sigh. "Houses don't disappear. Miss Emrys, why don't you admit you've lost direction and--"

"Damn right I've lost direction!" Aware of her rising voice, Gwen made herself speak calmly. "I'm going to explore the countryside tomorrow, first chance I get. Maybe some way I'll be able to find my way back to my home, my neighborhood. I don't know how, but I intend to find my house if it's the last thing I do."

Another period of uneasy silence ensued. When they came to a meadow, Christian pulled on the reins. He eased his leg over the horse's back and dismounted, booted feet thudding onto the hard ground. "Let us rest here for a few minutes," he said as he reached for her. "Rest the horse, too. As a matter of fact, I'll walk much of the rest of the way, so he doesn't have to carry such a load."

She ached all over from riding, in her lower spine, hips and thighs, bones and muscles she didn't know she had, but she concealed her discomfort.

Christian's strong hands grasped her around the waist, her body brushing his as he set her on the ground. With his hands still warm against her hips, he looked down at her for an intense moment. She met his gaze as she tried to act casual, to present an image of independent feminism, but his nearness had the most tantalizing effect on her. Her breath caught in her throat, and she scolded herself for letting him rile her like this. What in the world was the matter with her? She'd met him only yesterday, and after today, she hoped to be out of his life forever.

Wary of where her sensual thoughts might lead, Gwen glanced around the grassy field. It was so peaceful and still, with the sunlight streaming down, garbing the meadow with a brilliant glow. Thousands of violets sprinkled the clearing, their purple heads dancing in the cool breeze. A rushing stream dodged rocks and boulders. Gwen's gaze lit on the stream, her mouth dry with thirst.

Countless seconds later, Christian released her and let his arms fall to his side, then motioned toward the stream. "I'll wager you're thirsty, Miss Emrys...Gwen."

"You got it!" Gwen walked with him to the stream, the grass moist and springy beneath her sandals.

Side by side, they knelt on the grass to scoop up handful after handful of the cool, rushing water. How good the water tasted, she thought as it dripped through her fingers and ran down her chin. The hard, rocky ground cut into her knees, but she dismissed the minor discomfort, happy to have a rest period, wanting to forget her worries and enjoy this peaceful interlude. Her back and bottom ached from riding for so long. She wished they could stay here for the remainder of the day, just lie down and rest for hours.

After she drank her fill, Christian reached to help her rise, his hand enclosing hers much longer than necessary. His gaze held hers for a long moment, as though he could see into her soul, discern all her secrets, solve all her problems.

He released her hand. "You mentioned something about exploring the woods tomorrow. Best keep an eye out for snakes, not to mention bears and wolves, if you leave early in the morning. There are many rattlesnakes and copperheads around here, so don't sit on any rocks or lift them up." He ran his fingers through his dark hair. "Look, why don't you let me accompany you. I--"

"No need for that."

"--I hope to stay at the Chamberlains overnight, but I intend to depart for my place early on the morrow. So we can both start out in the morning as soon as it's light and look for your house."

"I can manage on my own," she said with a steady look.

"I doubt not you can, but mayhap I know the woods better than you."