LITMIR.BIZ

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make sense, but there’s something about him I can’t turn off. I wish I could.” She frowned. She’d been trying to weed through her confusion ever since encountering Caleb at the library, helpless to explain her feelings. “The man annoys me, but he’s charming and old-fashioned, even chivalrous. Other times he’s downright arrogant and commanding.”

      “A typical man.”

      “No, I think it has to do with his military background…like he expects everyone to do whatever he says. I get the feeling he ordered a lot of people around in his career.”

      Lauren gave a soft snort. “That would get old, fast. The guy needs a rude awakening.”

      “Maybe.” Arianna felt like she had in high school whenever they’d discussed boys over pepperoni pizza and Coke. She folded her arms on the table and leaned forward. “He is awfully good looking. Sexy too.”

      Lauren didn’t bite. “So is Rick. I rest my case.”

      Arianna sighed. “Lauren, all I’m doing is having dinner with him. I plan on making him squirm, but part of me likes the idea of seeing him again.”

      “Because he’s a player, and he’s good at the game.” Lauren shook her head, sending a short cascade of ginger curls bouncing against her shoulders. As usual, she was immaculately dressed, everything from her eggplant-colored blouse and designer capris to her heeled sandals and gold leather handbag, proclaiming chic prestige. Sometimes Arianna felt hopelessly overshadowed beside her–the mousy schoolteacher eclipsed by the swank boutique owner. She adored Lauren though, their friendship far too strong for anything as petty as jealousy.

      “Are you forgetting I was married to Rick, the king of intriguing men?” Lauren asked. “Trust me, Ari, this jerk is manipulating you.”

      “I don’t think so.” Arianna poked a shrimp with her fork, pushing it from its bed of leafy romaine. A light breeze ruffled the drink napkins on the table, carrying the scent of honeysuckle from a nearby park. “I’ve been around. I can tell when a guy is insincere or looking to score. He may be up to something, but Caleb is not trying to get me into bed. Not every guy is Rick Rothrock.”

      “Thank God for that!”

      Arianna smiled. Lauren’s ex wasn’t a horrible man. He’d just never grown up, enjoying life in the fast lane too much. In the beginning, his marriage to Lauren had been a whirlwind of giddy highs, but even Arianna had noticed the magic fading after a year. Rick had an incurable fondness for young blondes in short skirts, a weakness that kicked into high gear once he’d put a wedding ring on Lauren’s finger. Somehow, despite his infidelity, he and Lauren had remained friends after the divorce. It was usually Lauren who Rick called for advice when he needed to atone for some indiscretion with his latest girlfriend.

      “Okay.” Behind Arianna, two busboys worked at clearing a table, the muted clack of dishes and silverware blending with the softer murmur of conversation. “Let’s forget about Caleb. I’d rather talk about your party.”

      The annual summer event was something Lauren had started as a casual get-together for her family and friends, but it had grown to include casual acquaintances and even some people invited at random. This year, she was turning it into a costume bash at Rick’s suggestion. Lauren joked he’d only come up with the idea as a means to get his date into something slinky and revealing. Daphne might be the party girl in their group, but Rick took the prize for a playboy lifestyle and self-centered ego.

      “Daphne is going to drop off menus later today,” Arianna said, recalling the change in caterer had been their primary topic of conversation the previous night. Before driving home and becoming sidetracked by Caleb, she’d spent the evening helping Lauren work through the final bumps, the party scheduled for early July. “And I’m dateless as usual, so I’ll be coming solo.”

      “You could always bring your blond god,” Lauren teased with a sharp grin.

      Arianna arched an eyebrow. “He’s got a brother. A doctor. He’s cute too.”

      Lauren eyed her over the top of her iced tea. “So yours is sexy and gorgeous and mine’s only cute?” She set the glass down. “I don’t suppose you want to rethink dinner with this Caleb person?”

      “Did I mention he’s interested in the Civil War?”

      Lauren rolled her eyes. “A match made in heaven. What did Lucas think of him?”

      “You have to ask?”

      “You should have told Luke about the dog. The one you saw outside your window.”

      “It wasn’t a dog.”

      “Then what was it?”

      “I don’t know.” Uncomfortable, Arianna looked away. The image of the animal was etched in her mind, silhouetted by a freeze-frame flash of lightning against the sky. She wasn’t crazy. She knew it hadn’t been a dog, but a wolf? She’d been tired, half asleep. Her mind had probably been playing tricks on her, fueled by Caleb’s repeated warnings about danger.

      Except she’d felt something unsettling when she’d spied the animal. The memory sent a chill pinging down her spine. She forced a smile, trying to recapture the easy levity of moments before.

      “I thought we were talking about your party?”

      The animal, and even Caleb, could wait.

      * * * *

      Caleb studied the book in his lap, trying not to grimace at the ballooning pain in his head. Wyn’s pacing didn’t help, making the parlor floorboards creak every few minutes beneath his shoes. He remembered that same sound from another era, his father striding back and forth before the large front window as they’d waited for news of South Carolina’s secession. Caleb had been a major in the army then, his commission to colonel coming a few short months after the start of the war.

      After Crinkeshaw.

      He’d been born in the rear bedroom upstairs. It had since been opened up and joined to the room beside it to form what Wyn called a master suite. Much about Weathering Rock had changed since his childhood, but much–like the protesting creak and groan of the floorboards–remained the same.

      “Hades, Winston, would you stop that infernal pacing?”

      “Am I bothering you, Uncle?”

      Uncle again. The name was a clear indication of Wyn’s quarrelsome mood. He’d been sour and argumentative ever since Caleb told him about his plans for Thursday night. Now with the hour creeping close to eleven PM, Wyn stewed, tenacious as a bulldog with a bone.

      “Don’t be insolent. It’s impolite to be disrespectful to your elders. I am one hundred forty-five years older.”

      “Bullshit. You’re a year younger.” Wyn muttered something unflattering under his breath, the comment picked up by Caleb’s enhanced hearing.

      He shook his head and turned his attention outside. The large wing chair he’d dragged close to the window was comfortable, but he was edgy, irked he couldn’t sense Seth’s presence the way he had yesterday. Over the last month there had been two instances of ball lightning, the same bizarre weather phenomena responsible for hurtling him and Seth 149 years into the future.

      Reading wasn’t helping his headache, but several of the Civil War reference books he’d taken from the library had small sections on rumored paranormal occurrences. He was determined to skim through them before calling it a night, hoping to find some reference to ball lightning. Given Wyn’s ill-temper, it would be several days before he could coerce him into driving him back to town. Mitch Elroy had provided him with a driver’s license for identification purposes, but he had no desire to operate a noisy, horseless carriage.

      Wincing at the headache, he massaged his temple. The injection Wyn had given him that morning had been stronger than usual. While he’d managed most of the day without incident, the pain was starting to take a toll, sapping his energy and concentration.

      Wyn

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