"Just t'ink about it. Dat's all I'm saying."
"I don't want to think about it." Despite her best efforts, her voice sounded weak and unsure, a throwback to the frightened, lonely child she'd once been.
"Yes, you do. Dat's why you are here. Your heart remembers. . . . Somewhere inside you, your heart remembers."
Lainie sighed tiredly, fighting the allure of the old woman's words. It was just a theory, a wish and a prayer by a woman who believed in both to a woman
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who believed in neither. It didn't matter that once, years ago?a lifetime?Lainie had believed intensely in white knights and soul mates and everlasting love, that she'd spent night upon night waiting to be rescued by someone who loved her, someone who cared. She'd come a long way since then. She wasn't the little girl at the barred window anymore, waiting for someone to change her life. Now she was a woman full grown who made her own way.
"I don't remember Killian, Viloula. I don't know him and I don't love him and we aren't soul mates, and even if we are, I don't care."
There was a long pause before Viloula answered, and in the silence, Lainie felt a tightening in her spine, a growing sense of apprehension. Don't say any more, she thought desperately. Don't make me want to believe again....
"Kelly," Viloula said at last. "She is your daughter, right? De only person you have ever loved?"
Lainie frowned, confused by the sudden change in topic, but she breathed a sigh of relief nonetheless. Anything was better than talking about soul mates. "Yeah."
Viloula gave her a sharp, knowing look. "De name is very close to Killian."
The implication was so powerful, so unexpected, that for a second, Lainie couldn't breathe. She sat perfectly still, her mouth parted on a quiet gasp. "Oh, my God ..."
Viloula nodded slowly, her expression earnest. "De heart remembers what de mind cannot."
Lainie sputtered. "E-Even if that were true, you can't love someone again just because you loved him in another life. We're different people, with different experiences; it can't?"
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"God can make anyt'ing happen."
"But it doesn't make sense."
Viloula gave her a sad nod. "I doan t'ink it is supposed to."
Lainie started to sink more deeply into her chair. Again she wanted to give up, to disappear. The realization angered her, reminded her that she couldn't afford the luxury of depression. She pushed back in the chair and pitched to her feet. "That's enough. I just want to know one thing: Can you get me out of this time, Viloula? Can you tell me where to go or what to try?"
Viloula's face creased with worry. "Killian is de answer."
"What do you mean?"
"If Killian is de reason you're here, den you have some problem to solve with him or some lesson to learn."
"Uh-huh."
"De lesson is de doorway. You cannot escape from dis time; you can only leave." She nodded and whispered, "Destiny."
"Then I'm leaving tomorrow. I've got a child to think about. Enough sermonizing about lost loves and misaligned karma. Tomorrow?unless you come up with a better idea?I'm heading for Fortune Flats alone."
"Killian won't let you go."
Lainie didn't flinch. "Then I'll kill him."
Viloula started to say something else, but Lainie wasn't listening. She turned and reached for the door.
"Wait."
She glanced behind her. Viloula stood against the wall, her hands clasped at her waist. "I did not say I could not help. I jus said dat Killian is de answer. Dere is much I can do to help you. Dere's de cards, de palms ... of'er t'ings to help me understand your destiny."
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Lainie's breath caught. She hadn't really expected to be helped in this journey; she'd expected to do it as she did everything. Alone.
She moved quickly back to the table and sat down, more than half afraid that Viloula would suddenly change her mind, laugh, and say it was all a joke. That there really was no way home.
Viloula reached for a small wooden box from beside her bed and drew it to her chest. Pale light spilled through the window and wreathed her. The dark folds of her skin looked velvet-soft in the glow, her eyes glittered with secrets.
Lainie paused. "Should I be afraid of what we're going to do here?"
"Afraid?" Viloula frowned, apparently thinking. Then, finally, she nodded. "Yes," she said quietly. "I t'ink dere is much to fear."
Viloula shuffled the cards slowly, her gnarled fingers working in a jerky, disjointed fashion. The sandpapery whirring of the falling cards was the only noise in the quiet cabin.
Lainie sat stiffly at the table, knees and ankles pressed firmly together. She stared at the multicolored fan of the cards and felt another stirring of fear.
She tried to make light of her uncertainty, but her voice cracked and gave her away. "Y-You're sure those tarot cards aren't the devil's work, now? I've got enough problems without facing an exorcism."
Unsmiling, Viloula laid out seven cards in the fanlike shape of a human hand. "Dis card . . ." She pointed to the card at the heel of the hand. "Dis is what knowledge you have from de past. Touch it wit' de heel of your hand and turn it over."
Lainie did as she was told.
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"Lovers," Viloula said softly, and smiled. "Now, turn over de ring finger. It is de karmic lesson you must learn."
Lainie touched the card with her ring finger and turned it over.
Viloula frowned. "De tower. It mean great destruction ... a battle wit' de dark side of yourself. You must make a great change. Hmmm ..."
"Lovely."
"Now, de little finger."
Lainie felt an unexpected twinge of nerves. Irritated by it, she touched the card with her pinky and flipped it over. A chill passed through her at the sight of the card. Death.
Viloula hissed quietly.
Lainie lurched back from the table and smacked the cards away. They piled together; a few fluttered to the floor. "I don't want to do this anymore. I want to read books." She gestured to the hundreds of books stacked along the wall.
Viloula looked up at her. "I learned somet'ing from dat."
"Yeah? What?"
She gave Lainie a knowing look. "Dere is a great darkness inside of you. You must face it to learn your lesson."
"Unfortunately I'll die in the process. Thanks a bunch."
"Sit down, Alaina." When she complied, Viloula went on. "Dat card can mean many t'ings beside death?change, loss, good-bye."
Lainie forced a smile, though she didn't feel like it. "Well, that's a relief. So where do we go from here?"
Viloula seemed to hesitate. Her gaze darted to a small
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glass jar in the windowsill. "Dere are other t'ings we can try. Runes, palm reading .. ."
"Well, let's get started. Kelly will be home soon."
Viloula pulled her gaze away from the little bottle and frowned at Lainie. "What makes you t'ink time passes in the same way here as it does in the future?"
Lainie felt a cold rush of fear. She'd never thought otherwise, never allowed herself to think that maybe Kelly was already home, maybe all this was already over. "Oh, God, Vi ... I just assumed ..."
"When did you leave?"
"I left on August twelfth."
Viloula glanced at the yellowed calendar nailed to the wall behind her stove. "It is de fourteenth of August now."
Lainie let out her breath in a relieved sigh. "Thank God."
"You've got time on your side."
Lainie laughed. It was a harsh, bitter sound. "Hardly."
Silence fell between them, thick and strained for a minute, then Lainie forced a smile. "Come on, Vi," she said softly, "let's get to work. My soul mate could decide to shoot me any minute."
Killian sat back in his chair, trying to concentrate on the cards in his hand. He saw them in a blur of red; Queen, ten, seven, four, and three of hearts.
"You in or out, Kill?" Hambone Davis asked in a thick, alcohol-slurred voice.
It was the best hand Killian had all evening and he couldn't care enough to answer. All he could think about was the woman, Lainie, and the way she'd made him feel.
"Killian? For Chrissakes?"
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"I'm in," he said softly, slapping a couple of gold pieces down on the table. "Call."
Arizona Ted coughed and reached for the whiskey bottle, taking a long, dribbling swallow. With a loud burp, he wiped his sleeve across his mouth. "I fold."
Hambone flicked his coins onto the pile. "Pair o' Jakes, ten high."
Killian tossed his cards on the table, barely noticing that he'd won until Hambone started sputtering and Arizona chuckled.
"You shore got somethin' on your mind today, Kill. I ain't seen you so distracted at cards since that time you was shot."
"He wasn't distracted then, Zona. He was just plain pissed. I was scared shitless every time I beat him."
Arizona laughed, reaching for the bottle again. "You mean scared shitless that one hand you won."
"Was it only one?" Hambone grabbed his own bottle and took a gulping drink. "Felt like more." He grinned. "Course, like I said, I was scared shitless."
Both men seemed to think that was hilarious. They burst out laughing; their booming voices filled the small, dank cabin and let loose the sharp stench of whiskey.
Drunks, Killian thought with a sigh. They thought anything was funny. He was just about to rake in his winnings when the door behind him smacked open.
"Well, if it ain't our supreme leader and his lap-dogs," came Putty's drawling, Texas-fed voice from the darkness.
Hambone's face spurted color. He surged to his feet. "Who you callin' a lapdog, you rotten-toothed son of a bitch?"
Purty grinned and strode into the small cabin, spurs
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jangling on the hardwood floor. "Down, boy. We got the split money."
Every trace of animosity vanished from Hambone's face, replaced by a sudden feral greed. Slowly he sank back into his chair. "How much?"
"I ain't counted it all, but we reckon about eleven thousand altogether."
Arizona let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Hell, that's a lot o' money. We ain't split that kinda pot since the pay-load robbery. That was .. . what? Ten thousand . . ." He frowned, thinking.
"Yes, Zona, this is more," Purty drawled.
Mose pushed through the door behind Purty, blocking the pale light of twilight. "Skeeter back yet?"
Killian nodded absently and retrieved his winnings, stuffing the coins and bills in his duster pocket. Then, slowly, he rose.
"Where is she, boss?" Mose said from the darkness behind him.
Killian turned around. Even in the darkness, he could see the hard edge in Mose's gaze, see the angry tilt to his chin. Killian knew immediately what had happened. Mose had wanted to kill Lainie from the beginning, and he'd had three days to twist that instinct into an obsession.
"Who's that, Mose?" he said casually.
Mose frowned. "You know who I'm talkin' about, boss."
After that, no one said anything. Thick, strained silence filled the room. Purty and Mose exchanged frowning looks.
"You talkin' about that spitfire of a woman he brung into camp?" Arizona said, eager to know something that Purty didn't, for once.
Purty nodded, spat. "That'd be the one, Zona." He turned to Killian. "You find out who she is?"
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Killian shrugged. The story she'd given him wouldn't wash with Mose. Not by a long shot. "Not really."
"Then I will." Mose said.
Killian noticed immediately the change in Mose's tone of voice. It was belligerent, questioning. And for the first time in ages, Mose hadn't called Killian "boss." It was a backdoor challenge to Killian's authority.
He walked toward Mose, taking slow, easy steps. He moved in close, so close that the other man frowned and backed up. Then Killian straightened, used every inch of his tall frame to tower over Mose. His shadow slid across Mose's fleshy face. "Will you, now?"
Anger slitted Mose's eyes, but he gritted his teeth and stayed silent. The only evidence of his fury was the dull red creeping up his rough-shaven throat.
"Jee-sus Christ, boss," Purty whistled into the silence. "You'd think he was talkin' about your ladylove. We just want to know who the hell the whore is and how she knows so damn much."
"He's ballin' her," Arizona said matter-of-factly.
"Oh." Purty's leathery face split into a yellow-toothed grin. "She didn't happen to mention how she knew our names, did she? You know, in between a few 'Oh Gods' and 'Harder, harder.' "
The men laughed.
Killian stepped back from Mose, saying nothing. It was vaguely irritating to hear the boys talking about her that way, and the realization that he cared angered him.
The laughter died away. "Seriously, boss," Purty persisted. "She say how she knew our names?"
"Nope."
Mose didn't crack a smile. "We're gonna ask her a few questions, boss."
They had every right, Killian knew. As their leader, he should know the answers, but since he didn't, he
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sure as hell couldn't stand in their way. The boys deserved to know if she was a threat.
"Yeah, sure," he said evenly. "Question her. But any decision about what to do with her is mine."
Purty looked faintly surprised. A frown pulled at his wrinkled brow and bunched the mustache beneath his hooked nose. "Of course it is, boss."
Killian wished he could take back the revealing sentence. Instead, he straightened and strode to the door. "Let's get this over with."
Chapter Fourteen
f
Viloula let out a weary sigh and eased the spectacles from her nose, setting them down on the open book in front of her.
Lainie thumped her book shut and rubbed her bloodshot eyes. Her head felt full, spiked by a dull throbbing at the base of her neck. With two fingertips, she massaged her temples. Panic was a heartbeat away; she kept it in check by sheer force of will. But it was there, increasing with every second that passed, tearing at her self-control. The more desperate and frightened she became, the angrier she felt.
"I fought dere'd be more . . . guidance," Viloula said, cradling her wrinkled face in her hand.
Lainie gave a short, sharp laugh. "That would be asking too much of religious texts, surely."
Viloula frowned, looked up. "Dat's twice you have been blasphemous."
"Blasphemous?" Lainie shot the word back. "You're joking, right?"
"Of course not. It is God dat rules our universe, shapes our lives. Certainly you believe in Him?"
"No."
Viloula studied her. "Oh, I t'ink you do ... even t'enough you wish you didn't."
"Fascinating as this theological discussion is, I'd like 167
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to get back to the business at hand. Did you find out anything that would help me get home?"
Viloula shrugged, reaching for her now lukewarm cup of tea. "More of de same."
Lainie shoved a hand through her messy hair. "I've read religious and pseudoreligious dogma from voodoo to Catholic to Muslim?even a bunch of half-baked cults I'd never heard about. None of them even mention the possibility of my situation. Only the Eastern religions seem to have any answers. And they're all the same, spouting the same ridiculous platitudes about karma, rebirth, second chances, and life lessons."
"At leas' we know dat you and Killian are lovers from de past and dere will be a great change."
Lainie rested her elbow on the chair's arm and rubbed her eyes again. "Oh, yes. At least we know that. This is some grand, cosmic classroom in which I'm to learn the lesson that God?a man?believes I need to learn."
"I'm not sure God is male or female. I t'ink?"
"Yeah, I care. The point is, we've found all we're going to find here."
In a jerking, angry motion, Lainie downed the dregs of her tea and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She was on her own, as usual.
r /> Viloula made a soft, clucking sound with her tongue. "You are not alone, Alaina."
Alaina paled and stared at Vi for a second, then she slammed her tin cup down. "Don't read my mind, Vi. It's irritating."
"We will get you home, child."
Lainie laughed derisively. "Yeah? How? You got a crib sheet there that outlines my failed lesson in this life?"
"In trut', I have one last idea. I fought?"
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"Get out here, girl!" A man's voice rang through the camp.
Viloula glanced at the closed door, frowning. "Dat's Mose's voice."
Lainie skidded back and got to her feet so fast, the wobbly chair crashed to the floor beside her. "Mose?"
Vi looked at her sharply. "You know him?"
"He wanted to kill me ... to save time in the long run."
"Dat is Mose, all right."
A thundering knock rattled the thin door. The little cabin shuddered and groaned at the onslaught. Dust showered down from the rough-hewn rafters.
Viloula got to her feet and moved protectively beside Lainie.
The door swung open and Mose strode inside, then backed against the corner. Hat drawn low on his forehead, he stared at Lainie through narrowed, suspicious eyes, his small, mean mouth obscured by a huge handlebar mustache.
Purty sauntered in behind his friend, arms hanging relaxed at his sides. A good-natured grin curved his lips and sparkled in his rheumy eyes. "Evenin', Miss Viloula." He turned to Lainie, his grin broadening. "Miss."
Killian brought up the rear, moving silently in beside Purty. Lainie instantly noticed the hardness in his gaze and the way his right hand hovered at his gun belt. He kept the wall at his back. He was looking for trouble, that much was obvious. The question was, would he stop it or start it?
Mose cleared his throat. "We want some answers, lady."
Lainie drew herself upright and stared hard at Mose,
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not giving an inch, masking her fear behind a cocky, defiant stance.
Purty hooked a thumb through the waistband of his jeans and moved forward. "The gal's gotta answer a few questions."
"Like, how'd you know our names?" Mose boomed out.
Viloula shot a worried glance at Lainie.
Lainie smiled and gave her a meaningful look. I'm a writer, her look said. Trust me.
Viloula nodded slowly, as if she understood. "Go .. . go ahead, Alaina... . Tell him the trut'."
"No, tell us a goddamn lie," Mose snapped, surging forward. Purty stopped him with a quick hand movement.
Inspiration struck. Lainie grinned. "You want the truth, do you? All right then, the truth is ... I'm Viloula's granddaughter."