Page 7 of When I Found You

My gaze drifts from the deep calm pools of Rob’s hazel eyes to the tumultuous maelstrom raging in Arthur’s, who stands at the foot of the bed with his arms folded across his chest. I can’t tell if he’s watching us with avid attention or barely restrained irritation.

I turn my gaze to the window overlooking the city. The sunset reflects off the buildings creating an illuminated maze weaving through the streets below with skyscrapers jutting up from the concrete jungle.

“Kate.” Rob’s soft but assertive voice pulls me from the view. When I face him, he smiles. “Is there anyone we can call? Family? Friends? Your husband, maybe?”

I shake my head. Hopelessness threatens to choke me. “Not married.” I show my bare fingers. Scrambling for excuses I lunge for the most cliché of them all and it’s enough to make me cringe. “But honestly, my head is a blur. I can’t remember.”

“Amnesia isn’t uncommon after a head injury.” Rob nods solemnly. “A few days of rest should help.” He turns to his friend. “Can she stay for a few days, see if her memory comes back?” At Arthur’s nod, he turns his attention back to me. “I’ll make some inquiries at the hospital to see if anyone’s been searching for you.”

Unable to trust my ability to lie, I smile. “Thank you.”

“I’ll check on you tomorrow.” He slowly rises to his feet and closes his bag. “Stay in bed. Rest. No sudden movements and no alcohol. Doctor’s orders.” His lopsided grin is so endearing it makes me forget I’m in the wrong decade if only for a moment.

“Yes, sir.” I return his easy banter but my smile disappears the moment I see Arthur’s heated stare. And by heated, I mean furious, not hell bent on seduction. The image seared in my mind at that brief thought leaves me breathless.

“Arthur, a word.” Rob leaves the room with Arthur following in his wake.

I can’t very well chase after them to eavesdrop a second time without getting caught. My head weighs a ton and even with the medication, the pain stabs through my skull. I touch the cut once more and groan. What I want is a shower, some warm pajamas, and to curl up and sleep. Hopefully I’ll wake up and I won’t be trapped in 1985 with a grumpy businessman and his doctor friend as my only allies.

Reality weighs down on me. Do I want to return to the present? I mean after the bang-up year I had, I’d much rather be stranded in the middle ages than 2020. But it was more. I lost so much this past year, I considered ending it all.

Now I’m stuck in the past. Right where my beginning started, and I can’t help but wonder if this is fate playing some cruel joke on me.

I slowly rise to my feet and walk to the floor length window and lose myself in the rising darkness beyond. As the last remnants of sunlight fade beyond the horizon, I press my face to the cold glass.

How the hell am I going to make this work? There must be some laws of physics and time I must be violating by being here. I can’t imagine trying to live in a transported time wondering if I’m meddling with the fabric of the universe.

Take it one day at a time, I hear my mother whisper through my memories. One thing is certain, I will see my parents again, and that alone is worth the risk of a paradox and the wrath of the man in the other room who is now my only ally in this world.

With no money, no job, no apartment, I am at his mercy. A shiver of excitement grips me.

Be careful, my mind cautions. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the glass and behind me, through the door, I see Arthur appear.

“I see you’re going to be a handful.” His disappointment echoes clearly in his heady baritone voice.

When I spin around, I sway at the quick motion and lean against the glass.

In a flash, he’s by my side, his hands firmly planted around my waist. “Lie down before you fall down.”

His words are harsh, but his gentle touch says something completely different, leaving an ache deep in my chest when he helps me onto the bed and backs away. “Stay there. I need to make a phone call.”

I expect him to pull out a cell phone, but instead, he leaves the room. I squeeze my eyes closed. Cell phones aren’t a thing yet, idiot.

Yeah, being stuck in 1985 is going to be more difficult than I thought if I expected to be able to maintain any semblance of normalcy.

Chapter Four

Arthur

It takes every ounce of effort not to shove Rob out the door and slam it in his face. Instead, I stewed while he lectured and guilted me into taking responsibility for this lost little lamb. Hah. Lamb, my ass. After he left, I found her staring out over the city when she should have been in bed resting. If I hadn’t seen her unconscious firsthand, I would have thought it all an act. The question is, why go to all that trouble? What is her angle?

Rob may be blind to her wiles, but one look at those wide, mesmerizing eyes and I knew. This woman is trouble. Maybe it’s my own bias. I don’t exactly have a great track record with women, but none have given me a reason to trust them. Vultures and vixens, all of them. Well, except one. And unfortunately, she is the only one I can call for help right now.

I rake my hand across my face in irritation and retreat into the living room. Once I make this call, I’ll never hear the end of it. But I don’t have any other course of action. I lift the phone receiver to my shoulder and dial a number as familiar as my own. After a few lengthy rings, the line connects.

“Hello, this is Marcy Maxwell.”

“Hi, Marcy.”

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