“When did it happen?” she asked, interrupting his musings.
He had no difficulty understanding which ‘it’ she referred to. “On the nineteenth of June, 1854.”
“What day of the week would that have been in 1854.” She glanced at him.
“Monday.”
“We’ll make it right, Daniel.”
“Aye, lassie, that we will.” And then what? She’d return to her time, and he’d remain in his? Nay, fate would not be so cruel, not after everything he’d suffered. He shook his head. Certainly he’d done enough penance for several lifetimes by now. He deserved a wee bit of happiness, did he not?
“Why are you shaking your head, Daniel?”
“I’m just pondering the twists and turns of fate.” He smiled at her, even though his entire being ached at the possibility he’d be forced to let her go. “It’s the capriciousness of life—and death—that occupies my mind is all.”
“I’ll be right back.” Meredith jogged up the three steps to the porch and entered the cabin. She heard the dryer going in the bathroom, but Oliver wasn’t there, or not downstairs anyway. The cabin had an empty feel to it, and he usually called down a greeting when any of them returned. She glanced toward the loft as she hurried to her room. Maybe he’d gone to Missoula.
Meredith kneeled beside the bed and reached underneath for the calligraphy kit. She took out a several sheets of vellum and the fountain pen she’d already filled with ink. After sliding the box back under the bed, she placed the supplies into her backpack and headed back outside, grabbing the keys on the way. Meredith glanced toward the gravel lot as she joined Daniel. Oliver’s car was still there. Maybe he’d gone on a hike.
This was not the time to worry about Oliver. She had a task to accomplish, and that was unnerving enough. “I have everything we need,” she said as they set out for the school.
“Are you as nervous as I am?” he asked, one side of his mouth quirking up.
“Yes.” She had that butterflies-in-the-stomach thing going on, and her breathing had turned into shallow gulps of air. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they were about to do something illicit, dangerous … thrilling.
She’d never been one to color outside the lines or to break the rules, yet here she was, about to allow a ghost to take complete control of her physical self. She glanced at Daniel, marveling at how much she was willing to trust this memory of a man she’d only known for a few weeks. Oh my God, what am I doing?
A brick wall of anxiety stopped her in her tracks. “What would Aunt Beth do?” she muttered under her breath.
“I beg your pardon? I didn’t catch that.”
“I was talking to myself.”
“Having second thoughts?” Daniel drifted back to her. “You don’t have to do this, Meredith. I would never—”
“I know, but I want to. I’m just suffering a bout of nerves,” she said, trying to smile—and failing miserably. “Of the two of us, my twin sister was always the one who took chances. She’d be the one to leap off a cliff without first knowing the depth of the water below, and I mean that metaphorically.” She snorted.
“Not me. I strove to be different from her in every way, and I did so by being thoughtful and overly cautious. I think I needed to create my own identity. She and I are physically and genetically identical,” she said as if that explained everything.
“So, if she’d been the mindful one, you would’ve thrown caution to the wind at every opportunity?” He cocked a brow her way and grinned.
“Something like that. Maybe.” A nervous laugh bubbled forth. “I don’t really know.” She started moving again, the schoolhouse now in her sights.
By the time she and her phantom crush were inside the one-room school, Meredith’s hands were icy cold, and her heart beat like hummingbird wings. She shrugged off the backpack and sat in the teacher’s chair. The she unpacked the things they’d need. Then, arranging the vellum in a neat pile before her on the surface of the desk. Finally, she set the pen next to the stack. “Do you want me to have the pen in my hand when you possess me?”
“I’ve no idea,” Daniel said, pacing back and forth in front of her. “I don’t know how I’m to go about this possessing thing at all.”
Meredith gripped the arm rests of the desk. “Me either.”
“I can tell you’re as anxious as I am.” He peered down at her, his expression more haunted than usual. “Perhaps the first thing we both need to do is to try and relax. I swear my first concern is for your safety. I won’t harm you in any way, and … shite.” He groaned. “Tell me how to proceed, for I haven’t a clue.”
“Okay. Give me a minute.” Meredith drew in a long breath and let it out slowly as she purposefully un-bunched her tensed muscles. “Since I’m allowing this, I think you just have to drift into me, or think yourself there like you do when you go from place to place. Once we’re joined, we should be able to communicate as we always do.” She shook out her hands, straightened her spine, and picked up the fountain pen. “I’m ready.”
“For what, love?” Daniel’s chuckle echoed through her mind. “You look as if you’ve just swallowed clabbered milk.”
“I do not,” she huffed, trying to ignore the thrill his endearment caused. “I’m simply preparing myself for the inevitable jolt of cold.”
“Ah, right. I’d forgotten death’s chill.” His expression held tenderness and trepidation as he rubbed his ghostly hands together. “Do you wish to close your eyes?”
“No.” She blinked up at him. “Should I?”
“I’d prefer it,” he said, looking sheepish. “I’m feeling a wee bit
