Once Upon a Remembrance

  Half-hysterically, she again thanked Leif for persuading her to take street fighting classes as a means of self defense.

  As she cleared the doorway, Isabeau ran into a hard bulk and stopped.

  "I'm happy to see you too, sweetheart," a husky voice murmured as familiar arms enclosed and steadied her.

  "Hawk!" She felt him stiffen as he looked past her.

  "What the hell --" The pleasure in his initial greeting changed to violence as he set her aside and lunged after the figure trying to exit through the bathroom window.

  Isabeau quickly retrieved a clean towel.

  Grabbing the intruder by the back of his shirt, Hawk yanked him back into the room. The man fell, landing heavily on his side, his boots sliding on the ceramic flooring as he tried to bolt. Hawk grabbed the man's arm and twisted it up behind his back.

  "Let go, you're breaking my arm!" the intruder cried out.

  "Who the hell sent you here?"

  "Don't know."

  Hawk pulled the man's arm up tighter and the man yelped, coming up on his toes. "Who?" Hawk asked again.

  "Somebody hired me to nab her, that's all I know. I was supposed to drop her in the river. Here, look in my pocket." He tried to indicate his right front pants pocket. "The note and money's in there. I was to get the other half of it when the job was done."

  Hawk looked at Isabeau. She had moved to the sitting room couch and huddled on it, her eyes wide. He pulled the man into the other room.

  "What's your name?"

  "Lonnie Becker."

  "Well, Lonnie, I hope you're prepared to spend the night in a cold, damp cell."

  "Now, wait a minute, here. I came clean with you, and no harm's been done --"

  "Maybe sitting in a New York holding cell will refresh your memory as to who hired you and why."

  "All I know was I'm supposed to get rid of her."

  Isabeau closed her bedroom door. Her whole body was ice. The shivering wouldn't stop. Ignoring the scuffling in the hallway she huddled into the towel.

  She twisted around when she heard a footstep behind her. It was Hawk. Gently, he pulled the towel closer, up under her chin, then grabbed a blanket from the bed and covered her with that also.

  Her eyes clung to him, unable to control her chattering teeth.

  He lifted her and carried her to the settee and settled the blanket around her. Kneeling down before the hearth he started a fire. Moving back to her, Hawk lifted a glass to her mouth.

  Isabeau gulped the liquid, then gasped, feeling it tear a fiery path all the way to her stomach.

  She pushed his hand away and sat up. "No more," she whispered.

  "Malry's out there and I handed the guy over to him. I've told him to keep an eye out for any other intruders, but I think this man was alone."

  Isabeau relaxed, closing her eyes. At least some of the shivering had quieted. Hawk put more wood on the fire, pulling the blanket closer about her shoulders. He lifted her feet and put them across his legs, carefully tucking the soft blanket around her cold feet. He was taking care of her. She swallowed past the lump tightening her throat. She wanted nothing more than to be with him.

  When he pulled her close, Isabeau closed her eyes, knowing no matter what, this is where she wanted to be.

  "Are you okay?"

  She nodded.

  "I let myself in with the key. Do you know how he came in?"

  "I guess the bathroom window. I thought I'd take a bath and get cleaned up." She closed her eyes again and snuggled up to him, feeling incredibly drowsy all of a sudden. "When I got out of the bath, he was suddenly there." She moved into a more upright position. "He put his arm around my neck. I-I couldn't breathe." She heard the shakiness of her voice and cleared her throat.

  "Did he hurt you?"

  Isabeau shook her head, a semblance of a grin lighting her face. "I kneed him in the groin."

  He grimaced. "Remind me never to get in a fight with you."

  Isabeau heard the outer door in the next room open. Hawk got up and walked into the other room. She was aware of a short conversation, but she couldn't make out the words.

  Hawk reentered the room. Isabeau could tell by the look on his face he was not happy with what he had learned.

  "The man insists an anonymous person left him the note and money, promising more if he'd get rid of Hawk Morgan's woman." Grimly, he stared at the fire. "Why the hell would they target you now?"

  Isabeau stood up. "Maybe because they know I've been able to prevent you from being hurt on two different occasions," she said in a low voice, her entire body shaking. "I'm an extra pair of eyes."

  "The only ones who would know that would be family or servants."

  Hawk put his hand on her arm. "I'm calling the doctor back and have him check you out."

  She shook her head. "No, I'm fine."

  "Maybe it was the same person who grabbed you last night," Hawk said. "They know you're here with me."

  She laughed shakily. "It wasn't the same person."

  "What the devil! The sooner we leave this place, the better I'll like it."

  Isabeau nodded in agreement. It had been one hell of a week, all around. "Let me get dressed, then I'll tell you what happened."

  She went into her room and looked through the clothes Hawk had purchased for her. She put on a simple black dress trimmed around the neck and sleeves with ivory lace. She was actually getting used to playing dress up. The dress fit her perfectly, its dropped waist complimenting her slimness.

  Hawk was seated at the desk when she reentered the suite, writing in his journal. From across the room, Isabeau could see the discarded gold band as it lay on the wooden surface of the desk, brightly gleaming as the light caught it. 

  She moved over to him and picked up the band to run her fingers experimentally over the green stone.

  "It's an emerald."

  She looked at him in surprise, smoothing the stone against her palm. "It doesn't really look like one."

  "It's rough cut."

  "Where did you get it?" Curiously, Isabeau held it up to the light.

  Hawk stood up, his eyes running appreciatively over her. "Hawk won it in a wager."

  With a frown, she placed the band back on the desk. "Why did you say it like that?"

  "We have much to talk about, but you first."

  She drew a fortifying breath. "While I was waiting for you on board, I read part of your journal." She turned away, loathe to see his disappointment. "I know I shouldn't have, but I did. There's no excuse. I don't blame you if you're angry," she finished shortly, looking at him over her shoulder. "I'd be angry if the situation was reversed."

  "There are things in there no one should ever read," he said, his face expressionless.

  Isabeau bent her head. "To tell you the truth, I felt ill. Having read the first page, I wanted to stop, but I didn't. I was afraid and curious at the same time. What you've been through," she whispered brokenly.

  Hawk tipped her chin back with his finger. "Before you go any further, we have to discuss my past and my amnesia."

  "You have to let me get this out. I came here to tell you everything. Last night," she swallowed hard, "after we made love and you argued with Malry, I went for a walk to clear my head."

  Hawk leaned against the desk, arms crossed in front of him.

  "I took a walk down the boulevard. I walked further than I realized. I was getting ready to come back, but I was waylaid." She clasped and unclasped her hands.

  "Waylaid?" His manner was less than encouraging.

  "Well, yes -- I was preoccupied, and then I stopped to watch a little show in the park. There was quite a crowd, it seemed safe, then suddenly some men grabbed me."

  Hawk idly rolled a pen on the desk surface.

  "They grabbed you?" he repeated quietly.

  "They dragged me into an alley."

  He clenched the pen in his hand. "And then?"

  "They covered my head with a sack, trussed me up like a Thanksgiving
turkey, and put me in a rowboat. They rowed to a bigger ship in the harbor and made me climb up the side. At which point -- " she lowered her voice, "-- at which point, I decided enough was enough and evaded them and swam for shore."

  She dropped into a chair.

  "How did you get away if you had just climbed up the side of the ship?"

  "I was only halfway up the ladder. I dove into the water."

  Hawk took a moment to swallow hard, knuckles white on the wood of the desk.

  "Do you know the name of the ship?"

  "No."

  "How many men?"

  "Two."

  "Did you see their faces?"

  "One was Connors."

  "Malry!"

  She jumped at his sudden bellow.

  The outer door of the suite opened, and Malry ushered two men before him. They moved into the room with a shuffling gait.

  Isabeau drew a startled breath and stepped back hurriedly. Hawk's hand cupped her shoulder in reassurance.

  Connors, looking quite rough and wearing a black eye, was shackled hand and foot with another man, hence the awkward entrance. A uniformed guard stood on either side of them just inside the threshold of the door. Other than a betraying narrowing of mean eyes, Connors showed no reaction to her presence.

  "Are these the men?" Hawk inquired mildly, still in that strangely detached voice.

  "Him," she pointed to Connors. "The other one, I'm not sure."

  Hawk approached the two men. "Well, gentlemen, since you were working together this morning, I assume it was you scouring the streets last night in search of prey."

  "I told him Cap'n wouldna want a woman on board," the taller of the men mumbled, hunching his shoulders away from Connors.

  "Shut up!" Connors hissed.

  "I'm afraid you men will be out of circulation for some time," Hawk murmured mildly, motioning for them to be taken out.

  They left and the door closed.

  "So you knew all along," Isabeau stated quietly, collapsing into a chair, peeved that he had let her ramble through her attempt at an explanation. "I wonder how Connors got the black eye," she muttered, disgruntled. "I would've liked to do that myself."

  "If you like, I'll have him brought back and you can blacken the other eye," Hawk offered obligingly.

  Eyes wide, Isabeau spun to face him, suddenly realizing the tight rein he held on his temper, a control which seemed to dissipate as he proceeded to drive a clenched fist into the wood of the closed door. Isabeau winced for him as she stared at his bleeding knuckles.

  She had an idea how Connors had received a black eye.

  "Hawk?" Hesitantly, she approached him. "How did you find out those men were responsible?"

  He dropped all pretense of calm, letting her see the anger seething within. "Malry has several …connections. When inquiries were made on the street, this is what trash turned up. Needless to say, I was astounded to meet up again with Connors. The captain of the ship will also be questioned, although they haven't discovered his whereabouts yet. If he is involved, he'll also be arrested.

  "Isabeau, you have no idea the luck of your escape. Dammit! No one will ever know how many young boys alone have been impressed…they may be out to sea for years!"

  Tentatively, Isabeau whispered, "Is--is that what happened to you?"

  His head swiveled around, dark eyes rooting her to the spot with a piercing glitter. "You're talking about what you read in the journal," he stated.

  "It's true, isn't it? You recorded everything in your journal. That's when you began to keep a journal, when you were imprisoned at sea?"

  "Hawk kept an account of his struggle to survive," he allowed, frowning.

  Tentatively, Isabeau said, "I get the idea it's not something you want to talk about. That's the second time you've referred to it as if it were someone other than yourself. I know it's got to be a painful, terrible memory, but to pretend it's another person --"

  "It is," he said.

  Isabeau shook her head, a tight ache in her chest. "Please, Hawk, don't deny it. I read how you were beaten when you tried to escape. Was the captain who impressed you ever caught and brought to trial?"

  "He had his day of justice." Hawk's brows were drawn together in a formidable line.

  "Then why deny it?"

  "You're misunderstanding me, Isabeau, and I'm not explaining very well. I'm not denying anything. Everything you read in the beginning of that journal happened to Hawk Morgan. It is all true."

  Isabeau felt her heart pick up a weird pace, fast, then slow. Her throat felt dry and her scalp began to tingle. She felt strangely lightheaded. "What are you saying?"

  "I'm not Hawk Morgan."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Isabeau gaped at him, shocked. "Not Hawk -- b-but, who are you?"

  "My name is Pierce. Pierce Morgan. Just as you named me when we first met."

  Isabeau shook her head. "No, no -- you can't be Pierce. He's back where I belong in the future, or ahead in the future --" she shook her head in confusion. "He invited us to his home."

  She rubbed her forehead. "This just can't be happening. Maybe I need to see a shrink. Maybe when I get back to the present -- oh, my God," she cried, "what is happening?" She paced the floor, trying to clear her thoughts.

  He reached forward and gripped her hands in his own.

  "This -- this is so incredible, even more incredible then when I realized I was in a different time. Now it turns out we're both from the future. Why did any of this happen?" Sudden light dawned. "Oh, my God, your aunt, that is -- Hawk's aunt, she did this. She said there were two of us."

  "I’m not sure how it all happened. Some of my memory has returned, but that attack three months ago was on Hawk, and somehow I took his place. My life here began that day. I was told I was Hawk Morgan. Since I have extensive records about my ancestor and Hawk's Den, I knew a lot of the family history. What I was being told was familiar to me, even though things felt off kilter. I just didn't know why I felt off-balance."

  "Who said you were Hawk Morgan?"

  "Malry, Belva, Maize. Even the servants addressed me as Hawk. They showed me pictures -- we look very much alike."

  "You own Hawk's Den in the present."

  "Yes," he admitted. "I do own Hawk's Den. After all the evidence everyone presented, there was no thought to question it when they called me Hawk. I thought I was him."

  "So -- where is the real Hawk Morgan?" A sudden thought struck her and she rushed on without giving him time to answer. "Could he be in the future -- or dead?"

  "I don't know," Pierce said slowly.

  "I kept getting confused if you were Hawk or Pierce, even though I'd never met Pierce." She blew out a breath, frowning. "All this explains why the handwriting in the journal is so dissimilar. I remember noticing the earlier entries seemed different from the later entries as if the writing itself had changed."

  "Two men from two very different periods of history."

  Nervously, she pressed her palms together. "This is so -- so hard to take in." An icy fist gripped her. "What if we get stuck here out of time? Or even worse, we get separated?"

  "No," he said fiercely, "not that."

  Pierce turned toward the window, the sun highlighting the shadowing of beard on his lean cheeks. His hair fell in a dark wing across his forehead, touching one brow. Isabeau stared at him, caring so much about him, not sure how they could get back -- wondering if they could get back to where they belonged.

  "How long have you had your memory back?"

  "Since you've been here, I've had more and more memory flashes. Then everything came together last night. I was so worried about you, it all came flooding in on this torrent. Whereas for the last three months there was nothing, suddenly I knew who I was. As far as anyone else knows, I am Hawk Morgan."

  Isabeau nodded slowly. "For now until he can be found. If whoever is behind this can't find him, they can't kill him." She looked at him sharply. "But they're trying to kill you instead."
br />   "No one's going to be killed. Whoever's behind the attempts has to be the biggest idiot in this century. He's bungled more attempts that I can count."

  "Well, at least that's in our favor. We've got to figure this out before he gets lucky." Isabeau frowned a minute, then said slowly, "What about Malry, do you think he knows anything?"

  "I've wondered that myself, but since I woke up here in 1894, he's stuck to me like glue. He's helped me tremendously."

  "You don't think he's in on this?"

  "No, but I am wondering if he knows where the real Hawk Morgan might be. He loves Hawk like a son. He'd go to any extreme to save him."

  "Even convincing you that you're Hawk, to buy some time? Maybe we should have a talk with him."

  "I intend to."

  "One thing that has me confused is the time sequence. You say you've been here over three months. I've been here myself a little over a month. Yet when Leif and I arrived at Hawk's Den, Mrs. Cummins indicated you were expected home later that night or early the next morning."

  Pierce frowned.

  "What is it?" she asked uneasily.

  "I should tell you this now. In my present time, as far as I know, I don't know you or your friend Leif."

  "But --" Isabeau sat down again, dropping her head to her hands, trying to think. She rubbed her eyes. "Pierce, you invited us there to photograph your beautiful house. You had spent several years renovating it." She looked up at him. "Is any of this sounding familiar?"

  "My plans for Hawk's Den include a complete renovation, however I had not implemented any of the plans yet."

  "Wait." She held up her hand. "Wait. What date are we talking about in your time?"

  "2007."

  "Oh, my God. No wonder --" She looked up at him, fighting the urge to really let fear take hold. "This gets too frightening. Your present time is 2007. One month ago I was in 2012. No wonder you don't know who I am. In your time, I'm still a teenager."

  "At this point I'm not surprised by anything," he muttered.

  "You realize we could already have changed history," she added, "just by virtue of being here." Isabeau met his eyes. "There's something else you should know."

  "Tell me," he said grimly.

  "Hawk Morgan's death was noted in the Bible I saw when I arrived there." The back of her throat ached and she swallowed. "I've been afraid to tell you."