Jesse looked at her lovely face. How could he have known her for, what, just a couple of days? He felt as if he’d known her all his life. As if he’d known her forever.
And maybe he had. Maybe the old stories weren’t stories at all.
“Jesse. Please, tell me about the ledge.”
“I don’t know all that much.”
“Whatever you do know, then. Tell me.”
Eyes steady on hers, he told her some of the stories he’d been raised on. “Fairy tales, you know?” he said, smiling a little. “The Rabbit and the Elk. Unktomi—the Spider—and the Arrowheads. An Indian kid’s version of Hans Christian Andersen.”
She nodded. “Legends. Myths. Ancient tales passed from generation to generation.”
“My beautiful anthropologist,” he said softly.
That made her smile. At least some of the wild darkness was fading from her eyes.
“My dad was a scholar, as well as a rancher. He taught me all kinds of stuff about his people.”
“Your people,” Sienna said softly, touching a hand to his cheek.
He caught her hand and kissed it. “That’s what my mother would say, when I got into my teens and began scoffing at the stories. ‘These are your people, too, Jesse,’ she’d tell me. And the truth was, I loved the stories—especially the ones that were really outrageous. Stories about that ledge. The sacred stone. And shamans.”
“Wise men who could perform feats of magic.”
“So the stories claim.”
His tone was cynical, but Sienna understood. She’d always held such beliefs in great respect, but to believe in them, to believe in the supernatural…
“Go on,” she said softly.
“The stories hinted at a kind of hole in time, an emptiness that could draw life in.”
“And?”
Jesse shook his head. “That’s all I know,” he said softly.
Sienna nodded. She bowed her head. Her shoulders slumped. He cursed, reached for her and drew her into his lap.
“I wish I knew more,” he said, “but I don’t.”
“That must be what happened to me.” Her voice wobbled. “It sounds impossible, but there’s no other explanation.”
“No,” he said gruffly, “there isn’t.”
Her eyes filled with tears. His arms tightened around her. He was a man of action. A soldier. You saw something happening, you reacted. You did what needed to be done.
Except for this.
What did a man do to comfort a distraught woman? He’d have moved mountains if it would have taken away his Sienna’s tears. He’d never felt so helpless in his life.
“You must feel lost,” he said softly, and then an awful thought struck him. “Sienna? Is there somebody—would someone be looking for you back in your time?”
She shook her head. “My parents are both gone. I have a couple of cousins somewhere, but I haven’t seen them in years.”
“Nobody else?”
This time, she heard the hidden question behind the simple words and she put her hand against his cheek.
“Nobody else,” she said softly.
Jesse drew Sienna closer and rocked her in his arms.
“Everything will be okay,” he said. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to be a burden to you. You didn’t ask for this mess—”
“Is that what you call it when a miracle drops into your life?” Slowly, he raised her face to his, kissed her eyes, her lips. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, sweetheart. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”
“You’re what makes me happy,” she whispered, and knew, with all her heart, that was the truth.
Only a son of a bitch would feel good, hearing something like that, but if that was what he was, so be it. Jesse drew Sienna closer and rocked her in his arms.
They went back to his apartment in early morning, stopping first to buy fresh sourdough rolls and freshly ground coffee from a little shop nearby.
“I’ll show you the city after we have some breakfast,” Jesse said…but somehow, they never made it out the door. They never even made it to breakfast. Instead, as soon as they were alone in his place, Jesse phoned his housekeeper, told her to take a few days off…
And carried Sienna to bed.
But, as she laughingly pointed out, food was also one of life’s necessities. So, in the late afternoon, they showered, dressed and went out to see San Francisco.
Day after day, the city showed itself to be a lovers’ paradise.
The charming little restaurants. The steep hills. The cable cars. Little places that served dim sum in Chinatown, the smoky coffee houses of North Beach…