Page 99 of Never Leave Me
Was she having another crossover to the present? How long would it last this time? She had to wake up and get to Dad and Nicholas.
She whispered a prayer. For so long, she’d thought God had left her when she’d gotten her VHL diagnosis. But what if she’d pushed God away the same way she had most other relationships, afraid of getting close, of being let down, of daring to have any hope? Maybe God was still there with her, just as Harrison had been, never leaving her, always wanting to help her, always loving her.
At a gentle stroke upon her cheek, she tried to open her eyes. But she was so tired. She just wanted to sink into oblivion and sleep.
“Ellen, love.”
Was that Harrison? She had to be having another time overlap. But how was he in the dungeons under Reider Castle ... unless he’d already orchestrated the rescue and had come down to be with her.
“I should have told you sooner.” His voice tickled her ear. “But I was a coward.”
Harrison was far from being a coward. He was one of the bravest men she knew.
“I love you.” The words were an anguished whisper. “Please, never leave me.”
She wanted to call out that she wouldn’t leave him, but her voice wouldn’t work. As much as she wanted to stay with Harrison, blackness enveloped her and threatened to pull her back to the past.
26
SOMEONEWASHOLDINGHERHAND.
Dad? Had he and Nicholas dug through the debris and found her?
She cracked open her eyes to find a bed canopy overhead. Somehow she’d been rescued from the rubble and was back at Chesterfield Park. But the lighting was too bright, the temperature too pleasant, and the scents too fresh to belong to 1382.
Her heart gave an extra beat. She’d returned to the present.
How had she gotten here? Had Harrison found another dose of holy water someplace?
The pressure against her hand was solid and warm.
She shifted her gaze to find Harrison sitting in the chair beside the bed, elbows resting on his knees, his head hanging, his dark hair mussed.
“Harrison?”
His head jerked up, giving her a view of his face. His cheeks and jaw were unshaven, just as they had been during their few days together in 1382. He’d tossed aside his suit coat, leaving his waistcoat unbuttoned along with the top couple of buttons of hisdress shirt. Though he looked harried and exhausted, he’d never been more handsome.
As his eyes locked with hers, the murky green depths only added to his appeal. “How are you feeling?” His voice was soft but contained an edge of sadness.
“Better.” She pushed up and took in her surroundings again. She was in the guest room she’d occupied for the past months at Chesterfield Park. “How long have I been back?”
“It’s early afternoon, so about eight hours.”
“I didn’t expect this.”
“You almost died.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “When Sybil got to you in Lionel’s lab, your heart had just stopped.”
“Do you think I died in 1382?”
“I venture so. What happened?”
She hesitated, knowing he wouldn’t like her tale and how much danger she’d put herself in to rescue her dad. But she relayed the events anyway and ended with her last memory: “The dungeons collapsed on me.”
Harrison’s forehead was grooved with frustration and worry. “It must have been the aftershock from the earthquake earlier in the week.”
“That’s what I’m concluding.”
“So you don’t know if Arthur made it out alive?”
