Lightning Only Strikes Twice (4 page)

“Miss Annie?” the doctor prompted. He touched her forehead with a dry, cool and very real hand. “Let’s get you back to my office.”

She shook her head. “I’d rather go home. If you could help me to my car—”

Four pairs of eyes fixed on her with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“Why do you have a mining car?” Willie asked.

“What? It’s not a mining car. It’s just a car.”

The doctor frowned. “You had best get some rest before you try to return home.”

“No. Really. I’ll be okay.” Frustrated by the spectacle she’d made of herself, she tried to stand. “I need to work first thing in the morning.” She grabbed the first excuse she could think of to extract herself from the situation.

The doctor paused in the middle of closing his bag. Willie and other two children stared at her with identical open-mouth expressions.

“What’s wrong?” Annie asked.

“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” Willie said reverently. “Ain’t nobody working tomorrow. Even the mine’s closed.”

The older boy nudged Willie. “Well, maybe she has a mule to pull out of the mire. The Bible says that’s okay.”

“Oh.” Willie looked at her in awe. “Do you have a mule and a car?”

Embarrassment warmed her face. Did these people really not work on Sundays? “No. No mule. I must have forgotten about tomorrow.”

“Head bumps mix up the brain,” the little girl said. “I heard Ma say so once.” She tugged the doctor’s sleeve. “You said she had a bump, huh, Doc?”

“So I did.” The doctor studied Annie for a moment, and then closed his bag. “Children, help Miss Annie stand and we’ll take her to my office for a closer examination.”

“I’m sure that’s not necessary…”

Annie’s protest went unheeded as the children gathered around her. The boys tugged on her hands while the girl and Dr. Smyth each took a side and lifted.

Annie swayed as she stood. Pine needles and twigs bit into the flesh on the bottom of her bare feet. Once steadied, she paused and took several breaths until the dizziness passed.

“Thank you,” she said. “I think I can walk on my own.”

“Where are your boots?” Willie asked, looking down at her toes.

“I don’t know.” Annie wished she had answers for all their questions—and hers. Every time she searched her mind for an explanation, it was like looking into a bottomless abyss for a marble.

Willie searched the area around the tree where she’d fallen. “Don’t see ’em here. Maybe you left them in your mining car.”

“It’s just a car.” She couldn’t see herself wandering into the forest without shoes, yet they obviously weren’t on her feet so Willie’s explanation made as much sense as any other.

“We’ll worry about that later,” the doctor said. “Come along now.”

Too weak and lightheaded to protest, Annie gratefully accepted their help. Had it not been for these kids, she might have been stranded in the forest for hours with no idea what had happened.

As they walked toward the clearing, Annie spied the slope of a large building’s roof beyond the forest grove. An overwhelming sense of déjà vu passed over her. She stopped.

“What’s wrong now?” Willie asked.

“Something’s changed,” Annie whispered to herself. “I came here when I was a little girl, but it looks different.”

“You played here? Like us?” Willie asked.

Yes!
She had played and picnicked here with her grandfather. Yet something about the forest was wrong. Another bout of vertigo rolled through her. She stumbled and would have fallen had the kids and doctor not been supporting her.

“No more questions,” the doctor said. “Help me get her to the office where she can lie down.” He tightened his hold and the oldest boy draped Annie’s arm over his shoulder for support.

The trip to the doctor’s office was a blur. Annie had no idea how long it took when they finally half-carried her through a doorway and into a room where they laid her on a bed.

“Susie, wipe the dirt off her feet,” the doctor ordered. “Then you and your brothers run along. I’m sure your ma’s wondering where you’ve all got to.”

“Yes, sir.”

Small hands brushed the bottoms of Annie’s feet before a quilt was draped over her legs.

The doctor slid his hand under her neck and brought a cup to her lips. “Here. Drink this.”

The sip of sweet liquid burned her throat and she coughed. “What is that?”

“Laudanum. It’ll help you rest.”

“Doctors don’t use laudanum, do they?” With what had happened so far today, she wasn’t certain of anything.

“I’m quite confident they do,” the doctor said. “Close your eyes now. I’ll go see if I can find your family.”

“Grandpa’s dead,” Annie said. A lump rose in her throat.

“Surely there’s someone,” Dr. Smyth said. “What’s your family’s name?”

“Crawford.” The name slipped easily through her subconscious now that she didn’t have to think about it. She rolled to her side and closed her eyes. She was so tired.

Beyond her room, she heard the tinny strains from a brass band playing “Skip To My Lou”
as she drifted to blessed oblivion.

****

Luke Maxwell had been hovering on the outskirts of the Founders’ Day celebration, watching the pie-eating contest when he glimpsed the Beacher kids and Dr. Smyth helping a woman out of the aspen grove behind the mill.

For a moment, he wondered if Miss Henrietta had been sipping too much of Old Thatcher’s moonshine again. Then he noticed the soft curve of the woman’s face and realized she was much too young to be Henrietta Hooper.

He left the celebration and strode down the wooden walkway toward the doctor’s office to check it out. This diversion was different. Different was exciting.

Up to now, the Founders’ Day celebration had been the most excitement he’d had since his appearance in White Rock two months ago. Not counting his actual arrival, of course—which was still a mystery to him.

There wasn’t any logical, scientific explanation for his presence in White Rock, Idaho, in 1891.

He stepped off the boardwalk and onto the dirt street, kicking up a bit of dust. He’d had to get used to the dust that hung over the main street—it was either dust or mud. No asphalt or concrete in this century.

He paused at the doctor’s front door and knocked.

“Come in, Luke,” the voice called from inside the office.

“How’d you know it was me?” Luke asked as he stuck his head in.

“You’re the only one who knocks,” Dr. Smyth replied. “When are you going to learn you don’t need to? You just live upstairs.”

Luke understood the doctor’s rebuke, but he didn’t think he’d ever learn. In his time, unlocked doors were reckless, not welcoming.

“Old habit.” He ducked his head to avoid bumping it on the doorframe and stepped inside.

“So you’ve said before.” The doctor poured a cup of coffee and raised the pot in Luke’s direction.

“Please,” Luke said. “Coffee smells great. I need something a bit stronger than the lemonade they’re serving at the picnic.”

Dr. Smyth took down another cup from the shelf. “I’ll venture to guess you’re here to see my new patient.”

Luke paused before sitting down.

The doctor chuckled. “Don’t act so surprised. You know more about what’s going on in this town than the mayor.” The doctor put the coffee in front of Luke. “He’s been in White Rock a lot longer than you have.”

Luke settled into a chair and slid the cup closer. “I notice things. That’s all.”

The coffee’s aroma reminded him of that first day, almost two months ago, when he took his first sip of the doctor’s brew.

“You don’t seem to notice the pretty girls chasing after you,” the doctor countered.

Luke paused as he lifted the cup to his lips. “I choose not to. There’s a difference.”

Dr. Smyth sat in the other chair at the table. “Didn’t take you long to notice this one, though. Did it?”

Luke shifted uncomfortably. “I saw you and the Beacher kids carry her out of the grove. What happened?”

“Funny you’re the one asking that question,” Dr. Smyth said. “Kevin Beacher said they found her underneath that young pine. Like you. If I remember correctly. An interesting coincidence, don’t you think?”

For a while now, Luke wondered if the doctor suspected something unnatural about how he’d arrived in White Rock. As much as he tried to blend in, he always felt like an outsider. Even the doctor, who’d first befriended him, couldn’t quite make him feel like he belonged. “I suppose a lot of people like the cool shade in that grove.”

“Lots of people don’t wake up babbling nonsense.”

“Is that so?” He tilted his head in curiosity. “What kind of nonsense?”

The doctor shrugged. “Things like working on Sunday and trying to find a car.”

Luke jerked as if he’d been poleaxed. He tried to control his emotions, but was afraid something showed on his face. “How strange.” His voice came out with rasp.

“I thought so too. Sort of had a familiar ring to it.” Shrewd blue eyes pinned Luke to his chair.

After taking another swallow of coffee, Luke asked his next question cautiously. Even as he did, he was certain he knew the answer. “Did she tell you her name?”

“Says her name’s Annie Crawford.”

Hearing her name sucked the wind from his lungs. He choked on the coffee. “Annie—Annie Crawford?” Shock and confusion, quickly followed by elation, assaulted him. He tried to cover his reaction, but the doctor’s raised eyebrows indicated it was too late for that.

“Are you okay?”

Luke nodded and cleared his throat. “Her name…like Paul Crawford?”

“The same,” Dr. Smyth replied. “Do you know her?”

How did he answer that question? Yes, he knew her, or at least knew the twenty-first century Annie Crawford. “I…don’t think so,” he lied, hoping the doctor didn’t notice his hesitation.

“Hmmm. Well…” The doctor gave him a skeptical look. “She got hurt while out in the forest.”

“Hurt?” Luke’s hand tightened over the fragile porcelain cup and he quickly let go before it broke. “How badly?” When he’d awoken in the grove, he’d suffered from the mother of all headaches for a couple of days, but he hadn’t been injured.

“She has a bump on her head.” Doc took a sip of his coffee. “I don’t think it’s too bad. Only time will tell.”

“Thank God.” Luke cleared his throat. “I mean, I’m glad she’s not seriously injured.”

“Me too.” The doctor ran a hand through his thinning hair. “What I can’t figure is why she wandered off alone. She’s dressed in trousers too. Like the Chinese women on the far end of town. But she’s not Chinese.”

Oh, no. Here come the questions.
“Maybe she came for the celebration and got lost.”

The doctor couldn’t handle the real explanation. As a man of science, he kept his feet firmly planted in the physical world. Regardless, there’d been times when Luke noticed Doc looking oddly at him. Like now.

“Maybe,” the doctor said. “In any case, she’ll need a place to stay until she’s better. I’d discourage traveling, at least for a day or two. In fact, I thought I’d talk to Paul Crawford. Since they have the same name, they might be related. Maybe he knows her.”

“That’s reasonable,” Luke mumbled.
But not likely
.

The doctor gazed speculative at Luke. “I’d rather not leave her alone while I hunt him down. Perhaps you could sit with her while I’m gone?”

“Okay. Sure.” Luke hoped he didn’t sound too anxious.

“Excellent.” The doctor smacked his palms against his thighs. “That settles it.” He stood and headed for the door. “She might be thirsty if she wakes. Think you can manage a drink of water?”

“Of course,” Luke replied.

“Be back shortly, then.” The doctor closed the door, leaving Luke alone.

A sense of euphoria raced through him. For the first time in two months, the constant vertigo that plagued him subsided.

He’d learned to live with it, some days, barely noticing the dizzying effects. Suddenly, it was gone. Had it disappeared because Annie was here? Or did it mean something else?

Setting that question aside for the moment, he wondered how Annie would handle the surprises that awaited her when she awoke. How would she deal with being thrown back in time? Would she be like him, deny it—drive herself crazy—until finally accepting it wasn’t a dream? Or would she embrace the idea of living with her ancestors for the rest of her life?

What of Paul Crawford? Would he treat Annie as a stranger or a long-lost relative?

Since his arrival, Luke had grown to like and respect the man who ran the mill. He’d never expected to witness a reunion between Paul and his great-great-granddaughter.

Chapter Three

The fine hairs on the back of Annie’s neck pricked, waking her. She wasn’t alone.

Someone scraped a chair across the floor. She rolled over on the bed and saw a man.

His brown eyes seemed anxious—and familiar. She tried to remember, but couldn’t.

An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. Not as sick as when the kids found her, but not quite normal either. Things felt out of place, lending to the urgency that she needed to leave. She looked around the small room for an exit.

“Would you like some water?”

The gentle question drew her gaze back to the man. He hadn’t moved closer, but she felt trapped under his intense stare.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Regardless of her apprehension, she heard kindness in his tone. Surely if he’d wanted to harm her, he could have done so while she’d slept.

He stood and picked up a cup from a bedside table. “It’s only water.”

She tried to moisten her lips, but her tongue stuck in her dry mouth. She nodded.

He crossed to the bed, slid a large hand under her head and held the cup for her.

The water tasted fresh, almost sweet, but before she could fully quench her thirst, he pulled it away.

“Not too much at once,” he said softly.

“More. Please?” The words scratched her throat.

He lifted the cup and she grasped it in both hands. When he tried to pull it away, water dribbled down her chin.