Part 14
Shenandoah Valley Northern Virginia 1915 Local
Mac stared at Avis. The young woman had jumped to the most improbable... and logical, conclusion about the necklaces and her presence without batting an eye. What to tell her? That the Universe had a perverse sense of humor and she was the pragmatic lab rat in an esoteric maze? Mac felt like a complete amateur when it came to something as ridiculous as time travel. Her only points of reference were Star Trek movies and they always made it seem vitally important not to tell anyone if you were from future. She had trusted Josiah with the truth but he had had to argue her into accepting it. That had been when she was still positive this was all some giant delusion. Did that mean the future was already screwed? Or could it be that history progressed the way it did because key people did know she was from 2003?
"Does your head hurt?"
Avis' voice brought her back to the present and she realized she was rubbing her temples. Mac sighed, "A little, paradoxes seem to do that to me." She raised an eyebrow at Avis, "How did you come to that conclusion? Most people would have dismissed it out of hand and looked for another, more believable, theory."
Avis shrugged and Mac was surprised to see her begin to blush, "You'll probably think I'm crazy."
Mac snorted, "Try me." Avis gave her a startled look. 'Wrong Century,' Mac resisted rolling her eyes. "Tell me."
"My mother called it the family curse, my grandmother said it was a gift," Avis gave Mac a cautious look. "I see things. Sometimes it's things that are going to happen and sometimes it's things that have happened somewhere else. A good deal of what I see around you, I don't understand at all."
Mac took a quick breath and then let it out slowly. Avis thought she had psychic powers? ...Well, why the hell not? If someone had insisted that traveling through time was possible 53 days ago, she'd have laughed and decided that their floorboards were slightly warped. She certainly wasn't laughing now, so why not someone with psychic abilities? Besides, the fact that Avis was, in all likelihood, Annabel's ancestor had to be more than just a coincidence.
Avis stared at Mac intently and then closed her eyes, "You wear a uniform. It's... green with splotches?"
Mac froze for a moment and then cleared her throat, "Yes."
Suddenly Avis shot to her feet, "There are explosions, and people running. They're frightened and there's a little girl..." She turned wide eyes to Mac, "Who are you??"
Taking a deep breath, Mac decided to take the plunge. At this point, what did she have to lose? Josiah had forced her to realize that she needed help to handle this dilemma, "My name is Sarah MacKenzie and I'm a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Marine Corps. I'm an attorney and I serve as the Chief of Staff at the headquarters for the Navy's Judge Advocate General. What you just saw, happened to me at an embassy in the Far East over a year ago." Mac kept her voice calm although she was feeling more than a little rattled. In the back of her mind, she made a note to apologize to Sturgis - whenever she saw him again - for what she had put him through on that murder case. Having someone do this sort of thing was too damn eerie.
"You're a military officer and a lawyer? Women can do that?" Avis was looking flabbergasted. "How? When?"
"Yes, I am and yes, we can," Mac leaned back against the pillows and gestured towards the chair, "I think you should sit, this is a long story." She waited for Avis to get comfortable and then started, "Fifty-three days ago, I drove to the town of Palos, here in the Shenandoah, to interview a witness... "
The last vestiges of dusk disappeared as Mac continued with her story. As full dark settled on the room, Avis got up and lit the oil lamp, still listening intently. Roger crept in and settled himself on the foot of the bed.
"... and when I woke up, I was in Deacon's wagon and now, here I am," Mac finally concluded. Having to tell everything that had happened had, at least, helped organize it in her own mind. Maybe there was a solution in there somewhere. She'd done her best to separate the emotions from the facts. The sense of loss she felt about Harm was bad enough. What was surprising was how much she missed Josiah. Worry was taking up a large part of her feelings about the Colonel as well. She could only pray that he wouldn't do anything foolish.
Avis sat silently for several long seconds and then shook her head, "That's a remarkable story. These things you talk about so casually... cars, phones, elec...?"
"Electricity," Mac supplied and Avis nodded thoughtfully.
"It seems like magic. Man has learned how to fly?" She tapped her chin as Mac affirmed that fact, "We must seem like savages to you."
Mac looked at her in surprise and shook her head, "Not at all, would you think of your great-grandparents as savages? We've just learned how to do some things faster, I don't necessarily think it's always better. Life in the 21st century is pretty hectic. Sometimes it's so overwhelming, you can't even breathe. People are losing their patience - everything has to happen right away or they lose interest or worse, lose their tempers. They want instant gratification."
Avis smiled, "I believe I know some people who are like that in this century. They don't want to take the time to work to get something, they'd rather take it from someone else."
"I guess it's true then, that people don't change," Mac smiled as well, "Those types are still around in my century."
"And isn't that a pity?" Avis grinned and then stifled a yawn. "This has been truly fascinating, Sarah, but now it's time to sleep." She stood up and hauled the chair back to the corner, "We'll discuss this again in the morning and see about presenting you to the community." She blew out the light and started out of the room. At the doorway, she turned and smiled, "You're safe here, Sarah, sleep well."
Mac sank deeper into the bed, it had been ages since she'd slept in one of these, too. She was willing to believe Avis that it was safe here, at least for now. Roger grumbled a bit and rearranged himself so that he was draped over a foot. Mac closed her eyes; tomorrow, she'd broach the subject of Sheridan.
Shenandoah Valley Northern Virginia 0605 Local
Mac awoke to the smell of bacon frying. Throwing off the covers, she swung her legs out of bed and sat up, pleased to find that she was less sore than yesterday. She turned to the nightstand, pouring water into the basin and splashing some on her face. After patting herself dry, she slipped into the robe that had been draped across the foot of the bed and padded towards the kitchen.
Avis looked up as she entered the kitchen, "Good morning! Breakfast is almost ready. There's eggs, bacon, grits and biscuits with gravy. I'm afraid coffee has become a precious commodity. There's a substitute concoction made with chicory but I really can't abide it. I do have tea, or buttermilk if you prefer."
Mac smiled, "Tea will be fine. Is there anything I can do?"
"Not at the moment," Avis smiled as she started putting platters of food on the table. She sat down herself after bustling about for another minute or so. Mac had waited for Avis to sit and then bowed her head as the young woman said grace.
Finishing, Avis looked up, "Help yourself, there's plenty." The two women ate in a comfortable silence. When the tea kettle began to whistle, Avis got up and returned with cups, saucers and a cannister of tea. Then she brought over the kettle and poured the steaming water into each cup. Finally, she placed a mason jar of honey on the table. "Sugar's a mite scarce, too," she said apologetically, "But I've found that I actually prefer the honey."
"I prefer it, too," Mac assured her. They sipped their tea quietly. Mac was idly tracing the wood pattern on the table, deep in thought. She glanced up to find Avis watching her and smiled slightly, "Are you still seeing things around me that you don't understand?"
Avis smiled in return, "I don't always see things, but... I think you know that already." She tilted her head to the side, "It took me a little while to figure it out but you have the gift as well." She sat and waited expectantly.
Mac stared at her and then looked down at the table and sighed, "I suppose you could say that but it's pretty sporadic. It's only happened three times and I've definitely been in some situations where it would have been pretty handy to have had it start working. How in the world do you control it?"
Avis shook her head, "You don't, you just try to understand it when it comes. Judging by my mother and grandmother, how often it happens, depends on how strongly you have it... and how hard you fight against it. My mother hated it. She refused to acknowledge any visions, so it's hard to know exactly how strong her gift was. My grandmother, on the other hand, embraced it. She was amazing." She leaned back a little, absently swirling what was left of her tea, "All the women in my family have had it to some degree or other. It's common knowledge in these parts that the Payne women are... well... polite folk say 'different'."
Mac eyed her, "And the not so polite?"
Avis gave her a small grin, "You do have an interesting way of phrasing things, don't you?" She shook her head, "The 'not so polite' say witch."
"They don't really believe that, do they?" Mac looked at her in concern. Hadn't the fear of witchcraft gone out with the Salem witch trials?
Avis shrugged, "There's always some that find it easier to blame me for their own clumsiness or misfortunes." She wiggled her fingers at Mac and assumed a sinister expression, "Beware! I have the 'Evil Eye!" She smiled, "It's usually just talk. Fortunately, folks like Avril, Deacon and even Corinna are too sensible to believe any of it."
A tiny, little alarm went off in Mac's head. She looked at Avis carefully, " 'It's usually just talk'? Who didn't stop at 'just talk'?"
"I'm going to have to remember to be more careful in what I say. You hear things most people miss." Avis sat back, shaking her head, "It's not important, Deacon and Avril caught him before he could do anything and they ran him out of the area. That was about two years ago, just before Avril went to join John Gordon's staff. I haven't had any trouble since then." She stood up and began gathering dishes. Mac stood up as well to help. Avis smiled at her, "That's truly not necessary, but if you insist, I won't argue. After we've cleaned up, I'll get started on altering a dress for you. Can you sew?"
Mac shook her head ruefully, "I'm afraid not. It's not that necessary a skill in my time."
Avis waved a hand, "It's not that important. It won't take that long to alter one of my dresses and then we can see about introducing you around. Unless I miss my guess, the ladies of the neighborhood will be happy to contribute to your wardrobe after they hear your story."
"I wouldn't want to take advantage of them," Mac said uncomfortably.
"You won't be," Avis asserted, "The women who will contribute are the ones who have dresses to spare. We won't be changing the facts, merely the circumstances. Just don't mention Col. Rabb and the Yankees." She grinned suddenly, "Or the future. Someone will want to know about the latest fashions."
Shenandoah Valley Northern Virginia 1620 Local
Mac twisted her hands together. She couldn't believe how nervous she was about this. Given a choice between facing Corinna and her cadre of friends or a terrorist Al-Qaeda cell, she'd be hard put to decide. Avis glanced over at her and smiled, "It won't be that bad, Sarah. These women are going to find you terribly interesting and exotic. If they ask something you don't know about, just answer in Russian."
Mac nodded wordlessly, taking a deep breath. She would have preferred meeting these women one or two at a time but Avis had vetoed that idea. Better to get as many of the leading ladies together as possible and only go through this once. Gossip would accomplish the rest, they'd probably never have to repeat the story again. To that end, she had enlisted Deacon's help. He'd come over again as he had said he would and Avis had filled him in on her plan to introduce Mac to the neighborhood. She had to give the young woman credit, Avis had carefully omitted the parts about the future and still presented a plausible story. As far as Deacon was concerned, they were trying to hide a Yankee woman in their midst until they could get her safely home. He'd found the whole idea amusing and was more than willing to do his part.
He had headed into town around noon with the story of his 'rescue' of the Russian woman the night before. True to form, Corinna had been ready to head out to Avis' home to take over the care of the stranger almost immediately. Deacon managed to dissuade her, suggesting that the poor, foreign woman had had enough happen to her and Miss Avis was the only person she knew. Gradually, he led Corinna to the conclusion that it would be less overwhelming if a small but select group visited. The formidable Mrs. Simpson had sent back word with Deacon that she and the ladies of her church group would call later in the afternoon to offer sympathy and support.
Mac jumped when Roger leapt up from his nap by the hearth and disappeared down the hallway with a yowl. What the hell was wrong with that cat? She turned back to see Avis up and peering out the kitchen window. "They're here," she announced. "Come along, we'll meet them in the parlor. I'll get the door and bring the ladies to you."
Nodding, Mac got up and followed Avis to the parlor. Still too nervous to sit, she moved to the fireplace and examined the knick-knacks on the mantle. The approaching sound of voices and footsteps made her turn, smoothing her dress with hands that suddenly didn't want to keep still. Firmly, she clasped them at her waist, straightened her shoulders and waited. She was a Marine officer, goddammit, she could do this.
Avis smiled warmly at the ladies as they made their way up the walk. The last twenty-four hours or so had left her feeling like she'd been caught in a whirlwind and she was still unable to escape its grip. The jolt she had felt when she first laid eyes on Sarah MacKenzie had nearly knocked her off her feet. The woman was at the vortex of a dizzying and disturbing array of images. Avis had found herself focusing on the steady and unflappable Deacon in order to create a buffer.
It hadn't been hard to maintain a calm facade. She was a Southern woman after all, and her mother had trained her well in the social niceties. That facade had cracked slightly when she actually shook hands with Sarah. The trauma the other woman had been through had rolled off of her in waves. Avis had been somewhat prepared for that, she would have had to been blind not to see that Miss MacKenzie had been injured. There was also the sense of a formidable strength and will, but it was the ominous feeling of imminent danger that had rocked her. That, and a strong feeling of displacement.
It had created a slight breach of etiquette, Avis had suddenly been overwhelmed with the need to get Sarah out of sight, she'd practically ordered them into the house. There, she'd fled the room, leaving Deacon to settle Miss MacKenzie. Going to the springhouse to retrieve the lemonade, butter, cheese and platter of biscuits that she'd made that morning had given her a chance to regroup, as well as a plausible excuse for abandoning her guests. Finding Roger purring on Sarah's lap had given her her first reassurance that Miss MacKenzie wasn't the threat. A harbinger, perhaps, but not the threat. Roger, with the discernment peculiar to cats, had no problem distinguishing friend from foe. He absolutely refused to be in the same room with Corinna.
The mundane task of eating had further settled her nerves, enough to ask Deacon why he'd brought Sarah to her. Seeing her necklace on Miss MacKenzie had been a shock. Hearing that Annabel Simpson had given her a 'family heirloom' was discomfiting to say the least. The feeling of displacement had grown stronger. Annabel had been her grandmother's name. She'd been so focused on why Sarah had the necklace that she'd missed the early warnings. Roger had been her first inkling that trouble was almost upon them. It hadn't taken second sight to realize that having Corinna meet Sarah right then would have been an unmitigated disaster.
After Deacon and Corinna left, the sight of Miss MacKenzie making her way painfully down the steps had left Avis berating herself for her thoughtlessness. She'd thrown herself into making amends. In the course of the next few hours, they had casually chatted. Avis found that she enjoyed the older woman's company. Sarah had a keen intellect and a disconcerting habit of slicing through the flotsam to focus on a particular point. One point had been Avis' reaction to the necklace. Avis was willing to wager that the look on Sarah's face when she saw Avis' necklace had mirrored her own. Laying the necklaces side by side had finally illuminated the displaced feeling. It wasn't so much where Sarah was from, but when.
However wildly improbable that seemed to be, it felt right. Ironically, Sarah had challenged her on her conclusion - not because it was wrong, she noticed - but because she'd decided on it so quickly. Realizing that vacillation was a waste of time, Avis gathered her resolve and told Sarah about her abilities. The dark-haired woman had listened to her quietly and had remained silent, although her expression was thoughtful rather than incredulous. Avis had taken a chance and focused a little more intently on Sarah. The impression that had crashed into her mind had scared the bejeebers out of her. It also, apparently, crystalized Sarah's decision to talk. The tale that followed had been amazing.
It wasn't until the next morning that Avis realized that Sarah MacKenzie also possessed the gift. It went a long way to explaining why one of her descendants would hand over the necklace to someone who was essentially a stranger. That thought warmed her, she hadn't considered it before, but here was proof that Avril survived the war and that they had had children.
She and Sarah had discussed everything again while she modified a dress to fit. She'd made the older woman go over every detail of her meeting with Annabel, Sarah had an amazing memory. Avis was sure they could get her back to her own time. She had a theory but it would take time for all the elements to come together. Meanwhile, the feeling of growing danger lurked just below the surface. The storm was going to break soon and Avis couldn't help feeling that Sarah MacKenzie was one of its targets.
Shenandoah Valley Northern Virginia 1915 Local
Mac stared at Avis. The young woman had jumped to the most improbable... and logical, conclusion about the necklaces and her presence without batting an eye. What to tell her? That the Universe had a perverse sense of humor and she was the pragmatic lab rat in an esoteric maze? Mac felt like a complete amateur when it came to something as ridiculous as time travel. Her only points of reference were Star Trek movies and they always made it seem vitally important not to tell anyone if you were from future. She had trusted Josiah with the truth but he had had to argue her into accepting it. That had been when she was still positive this was all some giant delusion. Did that mean the future was already screwed? Or could it be that history progressed the way it did because key people did know she was from 2003?
"Does your head hurt?"
Avis' voice brought her back to the present and she realized she was rubbing her temples. Mac sighed, "A little, paradoxes seem to do that to me." She raised an eyebrow at Avis, "How did you come to that conclusion? Most people would have dismissed it out of hand and looked for another, more believable, theory."
Avis shrugged and Mac was surprised to see her begin to blush, "You'll probably think I'm crazy."
Mac snorted, "Try me." Avis gave her a startled look. 'Wrong Century,' Mac resisted rolling her eyes. "Tell me."
"My mother called it the family curse, my grandmother said it was a gift," Avis gave Mac a cautious look. "I see things. Sometimes it's things that are going to happen and sometimes it's things that have happened somewhere else. A good deal of what I see around you, I don't understand at all."
Mac took a quick breath and then let it out slowly. Avis thought she had psychic powers? ...Well, why the hell not? If someone had insisted that traveling through time was possible 53 days ago, she'd have laughed and decided that their floorboards were slightly warped. She certainly wasn't laughing now, so why not someone with psychic abilities? Besides, the fact that Avis was, in all likelihood, Annabel's ancestor had to be more than just a coincidence.
Avis stared at Mac intently and then closed her eyes, "You wear a uniform. It's... green with splotches?"
Mac froze for a moment and then cleared her throat, "Yes."
Suddenly Avis shot to her feet, "There are explosions, and people running. They're frightened and there's a little girl..." She turned wide eyes to Mac, "Who are you??"
Taking a deep breath, Mac decided to take the plunge. At this point, what did she have to lose? Josiah had forced her to realize that she needed help to handle this dilemma, "My name is Sarah MacKenzie and I'm a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Marine Corps. I'm an attorney and I serve as the Chief of Staff at the headquarters for the Navy's Judge Advocate General. What you just saw, happened to me at an embassy in the Far East over a year ago." Mac kept her voice calm although she was feeling more than a little rattled. In the back of her mind, she made a note to apologize to Sturgis - whenever she saw him again - for what she had put him through on that murder case. Having someone do this sort of thing was too damn eerie.
"You're a military officer and a lawyer? Women can do that?" Avis was looking flabbergasted. "How? When?"
"Yes, I am and yes, we can," Mac leaned back against the pillows and gestured towards the chair, "I think you should sit, this is a long story." She waited for Avis to get comfortable and then started, "Fifty-three days ago, I drove to the town of Palos, here in the Shenandoah, to interview a witness... "
The last vestiges of dusk disappeared as Mac continued with her story. As full dark settled on the room, Avis got up and lit the oil lamp, still listening intently. Roger crept in and settled himself on the foot of the bed.
"... and when I woke up, I was in Deacon's wagon and now, here I am," Mac finally concluded. Having to tell everything that had happened had, at least, helped organize it in her own mind. Maybe there was a solution in there somewhere. She'd done her best to separate the emotions from the facts. The sense of loss she felt about Harm was bad enough. What was surprising was how much she missed Josiah. Worry was taking up a large part of her feelings about the Colonel as well. She could only pray that he wouldn't do anything foolish.
Avis sat silently for several long seconds and then shook her head, "That's a remarkable story. These things you talk about so casually... cars, phones, elec...?"
"Electricity," Mac supplied and Avis nodded thoughtfully.
"It seems like magic. Man has learned how to fly?" She tapped her chin as Mac affirmed that fact, "We must seem like savages to you."
Mac looked at her in surprise and shook her head, "Not at all, would you think of your great-grandparents as savages? We've just learned how to do some things faster, I don't necessarily think it's always better. Life in the 21st century is pretty hectic. Sometimes it's so overwhelming, you can't even breathe. People are losing their patience - everything has to happen right away or they lose interest or worse, lose their tempers. They want instant gratification."
Avis smiled, "I believe I know some people who are like that in this century. They don't want to take the time to work to get something, they'd rather take it from someone else."
"I guess it's true then, that people don't change," Mac smiled as well, "Those types are still around in my century."
"And isn't that a pity?" Avis grinned and then stifled a yawn. "This has been truly fascinating, Sarah, but now it's time to sleep." She stood up and hauled the chair back to the corner, "We'll discuss this again in the morning and see about presenting you to the community." She blew out the light and started out of the room. At the doorway, she turned and smiled, "You're safe here, Sarah, sleep well."
Mac sank deeper into the bed, it had been ages since she'd slept in one of these, too. She was willing to believe Avis that it was safe here, at least for now. Roger grumbled a bit and rearranged himself so that he was draped over a foot. Mac closed her eyes; tomorrow, she'd broach the subject of Sheridan.
Shenandoah Valley Northern Virginia 0605 Local
Mac awoke to the smell of bacon frying. Throwing off the covers, she swung her legs out of bed and sat up, pleased to find that she was less sore than yesterday. She turned to the nightstand, pouring water into the basin and splashing some on her face. After patting herself dry, she slipped into the robe that had been draped across the foot of the bed and padded towards the kitchen.
Avis looked up as she entered the kitchen, "Good morning! Breakfast is almost ready. There's eggs, bacon, grits and biscuits with gravy. I'm afraid coffee has become a precious commodity. There's a substitute concoction made with chicory but I really can't abide it. I do have tea, or buttermilk if you prefer."
Mac smiled, "Tea will be fine. Is there anything I can do?"
"Not at the moment," Avis smiled as she started putting platters of food on the table. She sat down herself after bustling about for another minute or so. Mac had waited for Avis to sit and then bowed her head as the young woman said grace.
Finishing, Avis looked up, "Help yourself, there's plenty." The two women ate in a comfortable silence. When the tea kettle began to whistle, Avis got up and returned with cups, saucers and a cannister of tea. Then she brought over the kettle and poured the steaming water into each cup. Finally, she placed a mason jar of honey on the table. "Sugar's a mite scarce, too," she said apologetically, "But I've found that I actually prefer the honey."
"I prefer it, too," Mac assured her. They sipped their tea quietly. Mac was idly tracing the wood pattern on the table, deep in thought. She glanced up to find Avis watching her and smiled slightly, "Are you still seeing things around me that you don't understand?"
Avis smiled in return, "I don't always see things, but... I think you know that already." She tilted her head to the side, "It took me a little while to figure it out but you have the gift as well." She sat and waited expectantly.
Mac stared at her and then looked down at the table and sighed, "I suppose you could say that but it's pretty sporadic. It's only happened three times and I've definitely been in some situations where it would have been pretty handy to have had it start working. How in the world do you control it?"
Avis shook her head, "You don't, you just try to understand it when it comes. Judging by my mother and grandmother, how often it happens, depends on how strongly you have it... and how hard you fight against it. My mother hated it. She refused to acknowledge any visions, so it's hard to know exactly how strong her gift was. My grandmother, on the other hand, embraced it. She was amazing." She leaned back a little, absently swirling what was left of her tea, "All the women in my family have had it to some degree or other. It's common knowledge in these parts that the Payne women are... well... polite folk say 'different'."
Mac eyed her, "And the not so polite?"
Avis gave her a small grin, "You do have an interesting way of phrasing things, don't you?" She shook her head, "The 'not so polite' say witch."
"They don't really believe that, do they?" Mac looked at her in concern. Hadn't the fear of witchcraft gone out with the Salem witch trials?
Avis shrugged, "There's always some that find it easier to blame me for their own clumsiness or misfortunes." She wiggled her fingers at Mac and assumed a sinister expression, "Beware! I have the 'Evil Eye!" She smiled, "It's usually just talk. Fortunately, folks like Avril, Deacon and even Corinna are too sensible to believe any of it."
A tiny, little alarm went off in Mac's head. She looked at Avis carefully, " 'It's usually just talk'? Who didn't stop at 'just talk'?"
"I'm going to have to remember to be more careful in what I say. You hear things most people miss." Avis sat back, shaking her head, "It's not important, Deacon and Avril caught him before he could do anything and they ran him out of the area. That was about two years ago, just before Avril went to join John Gordon's staff. I haven't had any trouble since then." She stood up and began gathering dishes. Mac stood up as well to help. Avis smiled at her, "That's truly not necessary, but if you insist, I won't argue. After we've cleaned up, I'll get started on altering a dress for you. Can you sew?"
Mac shook her head ruefully, "I'm afraid not. It's not that necessary a skill in my time."
Avis waved a hand, "It's not that important. It won't take that long to alter one of my dresses and then we can see about introducing you around. Unless I miss my guess, the ladies of the neighborhood will be happy to contribute to your wardrobe after they hear your story."
"I wouldn't want to take advantage of them," Mac said uncomfortably.
"You won't be," Avis asserted, "The women who will contribute are the ones who have dresses to spare. We won't be changing the facts, merely the circumstances. Just don't mention Col. Rabb and the Yankees." She grinned suddenly, "Or the future. Someone will want to know about the latest fashions."
Shenandoah Valley Northern Virginia 1620 Local
Mac twisted her hands together. She couldn't believe how nervous she was about this. Given a choice between facing Corinna and her cadre of friends or a terrorist Al-Qaeda cell, she'd be hard put to decide. Avis glanced over at her and smiled, "It won't be that bad, Sarah. These women are going to find you terribly interesting and exotic. If they ask something you don't know about, just answer in Russian."
Mac nodded wordlessly, taking a deep breath. She would have preferred meeting these women one or two at a time but Avis had vetoed that idea. Better to get as many of the leading ladies together as possible and only go through this once. Gossip would accomplish the rest, they'd probably never have to repeat the story again. To that end, she had enlisted Deacon's help. He'd come over again as he had said he would and Avis had filled him in on her plan to introduce Mac to the neighborhood. She had to give the young woman credit, Avis had carefully omitted the parts about the future and still presented a plausible story. As far as Deacon was concerned, they were trying to hide a Yankee woman in their midst until they could get her safely home. He'd found the whole idea amusing and was more than willing to do his part.
He had headed into town around noon with the story of his 'rescue' of the Russian woman the night before. True to form, Corinna had been ready to head out to Avis' home to take over the care of the stranger almost immediately. Deacon managed to dissuade her, suggesting that the poor, foreign woman had had enough happen to her and Miss Avis was the only person she knew. Gradually, he led Corinna to the conclusion that it would be less overwhelming if a small but select group visited. The formidable Mrs. Simpson had sent back word with Deacon that she and the ladies of her church group would call later in the afternoon to offer sympathy and support.
Mac jumped when Roger leapt up from his nap by the hearth and disappeared down the hallway with a yowl. What the hell was wrong with that cat? She turned back to see Avis up and peering out the kitchen window. "They're here," she announced. "Come along, we'll meet them in the parlor. I'll get the door and bring the ladies to you."
Nodding, Mac got up and followed Avis to the parlor. Still too nervous to sit, she moved to the fireplace and examined the knick-knacks on the mantle. The approaching sound of voices and footsteps made her turn, smoothing her dress with hands that suddenly didn't want to keep still. Firmly, she clasped them at her waist, straightened her shoulders and waited. She was a Marine officer, goddammit, she could do this.
Avis smiled warmly at the ladies as they made their way up the walk. The last twenty-four hours or so had left her feeling like she'd been caught in a whirlwind and she was still unable to escape its grip. The jolt she had felt when she first laid eyes on Sarah MacKenzie had nearly knocked her off her feet. The woman was at the vortex of a dizzying and disturbing array of images. Avis had found herself focusing on the steady and unflappable Deacon in order to create a buffer.
It hadn't been hard to maintain a calm facade. She was a Southern woman after all, and her mother had trained her well in the social niceties. That facade had cracked slightly when she actually shook hands with Sarah. The trauma the other woman had been through had rolled off of her in waves. Avis had been somewhat prepared for that, she would have had to been blind not to see that Miss MacKenzie had been injured. There was also the sense of a formidable strength and will, but it was the ominous feeling of imminent danger that had rocked her. That, and a strong feeling of displacement.
It had created a slight breach of etiquette, Avis had suddenly been overwhelmed with the need to get Sarah out of sight, she'd practically ordered them into the house. There, she'd fled the room, leaving Deacon to settle Miss MacKenzie. Going to the springhouse to retrieve the lemonade, butter, cheese and platter of biscuits that she'd made that morning had given her a chance to regroup, as well as a plausible excuse for abandoning her guests. Finding Roger purring on Sarah's lap had given her her first reassurance that Miss MacKenzie wasn't the threat. A harbinger, perhaps, but not the threat. Roger, with the discernment peculiar to cats, had no problem distinguishing friend from foe. He absolutely refused to be in the same room with Corinna.
The mundane task of eating had further settled her nerves, enough to ask Deacon why he'd brought Sarah to her. Seeing her necklace on Miss MacKenzie had been a shock. Hearing that Annabel Simpson had given her a 'family heirloom' was discomfiting to say the least. The feeling of displacement had grown stronger. Annabel had been her grandmother's name. She'd been so focused on why Sarah had the necklace that she'd missed the early warnings. Roger had been her first inkling that trouble was almost upon them. It hadn't taken second sight to realize that having Corinna meet Sarah right then would have been an unmitigated disaster.
After Deacon and Corinna left, the sight of Miss MacKenzie making her way painfully down the steps had left Avis berating herself for her thoughtlessness. She'd thrown herself into making amends. In the course of the next few hours, they had casually chatted. Avis found that she enjoyed the older woman's company. Sarah had a keen intellect and a disconcerting habit of slicing through the flotsam to focus on a particular point. One point had been Avis' reaction to the necklace. Avis was willing to wager that the look on Sarah's face when she saw Avis' necklace had mirrored her own. Laying the necklaces side by side had finally illuminated the displaced feeling. It wasn't so much where Sarah was from, but when.
However wildly improbable that seemed to be, it felt right. Ironically, Sarah had challenged her on her conclusion - not because it was wrong, she noticed - but because she'd decided on it so quickly. Realizing that vacillation was a waste of time, Avis gathered her resolve and told Sarah about her abilities. The dark-haired woman had listened to her quietly and had remained silent, although her expression was thoughtful rather than incredulous. Avis had taken a chance and focused a little more intently on Sarah. The impression that had crashed into her mind had scared the bejeebers out of her. It also, apparently, crystalized Sarah's decision to talk. The tale that followed had been amazing.
It wasn't until the next morning that Avis realized that Sarah MacKenzie also possessed the gift. It went a long way to explaining why one of her descendants would hand over the necklace to someone who was essentially a stranger. That thought warmed her, she hadn't considered it before, but here was proof that Avril survived the war and that they had had children.
She and Sarah had discussed everything again while she modified a dress to fit. She'd made the older woman go over every detail of her meeting with Annabel, Sarah had an amazing memory. Avis was sure they could get her back to her own time. She had a theory but it would take time for all the elements to come together. Meanwhile, the feeling of growing danger lurked just below the surface. The storm was going to break soon and Avis couldn't help feeling that Sarah MacKenzie was one of its targets.