Jesse drew in a deep breath. "It doesn't matter right now. What's important is getting you two safely out of here. The mules are tethered over in that grove of cottonwoods. Take the levee road around. You're less likely to run into any patrols that way, as Morton and Forrest have pretty much got the Yanks on the run."
Rising to his feet with an effort, Jamie reached down to help his brother up, then turned back to Jesse. He gave a wet, weary smile. "See you at Oakleigh."
"Yeah. See you at Oakleigh," Jesse said flatly. He stood watching them disappear into the shadows, unwilling to even look at Amanda. What could she say? What explanation could she give for her lies that would be believable? And what reason would she have for lying in the first place, unless she was the enemy.
Closing his eyes, Jesse had the miserable thought that he would hardly care if she was Lincoln's daughter. He still wanted her, and that inescapable fact was as galling as the knowledge that it went against everything he'd been fighting for these past three years…
Oakleigh was just ahead. Amanda could see the chimneys rising above the tops of the trees. In the uneventful day and a half since they'd liberated Jamie and Michael, Jesse had said very little to her. Beyond an occasional comment or general direction, he'd been remote and aloof. She had tried to explain once, but he'd just looked at her with shadowed blue eyes and said he didn't want to know.
Now they were within sight of the house and she knew she would have to tell him everything or lose it all. She'd thought-hoped? feared?-that like Sam Becket in the Quantum Leap television series, once she had accomplished her mission and saved Michael, she would be transported elsewhere. Or at the very least, wake up in her own bed at home. But it had not happened.
She was still here, and she didn't know quite what to do now except tell Jesse the truth. Then he'd probably have her committed to the nineteenth-century equivalent of an insane asylum, and she'd spend her final days knitting wool caps in a padded cell. If she knew another way, she'd take it. But she didn't.
"Jesse," she said when they reached the edge of the woods bordering the pasture behind the house, "I have to talk to you."
He jerked to a halt, his back stiff and straight. Afternoon sunlight glittered in his black hair, making it glisten. "I told you. I don't want to hear it."
"But-"
He whirled on her, and she was surprised at the fury and pain in his eyes as he snarled, "It doesn't matter, damn it. Do you understand that? It doesn't matter to me who you are."
Grief clogged her throat and brought tears to her eyes. "Why not?" she whispered. "It matters to me who you are."
"God." Jesse closed his eyes for a moment, and she saw his hands clench and unclench at his sides.
Moving to him, she stood on her toes and pressed a kiss on his jawline. His hands flashed up to grab her, and his fingers dug painfully into her upper arms. He looked down at her through the thick brush of his lashes.
"It doesn't matter, Amanda," he rasped. "If you tell me you're in league with the devil or the Yankees, I don't care. God help me-I don't care."
His last words were a groan, and she felt a flash of hope. For the first time since she'd awakened on the attic floor, she caught a glimpse of promise.
"Jesse-are you saying you love me?"
"I don't know if it's love or obsession, but whatever it is, you're all I think about." He looked despairing, and Amanda pulled free of his grasp and put both her palms on each side of his face.
"I love you, Jesse," she said softly. "I think I've loved you since I saw your face in a photograph when I was ten."
His brows knit in a frown and he shook his head. "I've fallen in love with a madwoman. I suppose they'll lock us up together one day."
"They may," she agreed, "especially if I ever tell anyone what I'm about to tell you."
"Amanda, I don't think I want to hear this."
"But you must. We have to be totally honest with one another. And if I don't tell you, you may always think I'm just crazy." She laughed shakily. "Or once I tell you, you may be convinced of it. Please? Let me tell you?"
Jesse gazed down at her for several moments before saying with a sigh, "All right. But I warn you-if you tell me things I think my commander should know about, I'll reveal them."
"No national secrets, I promise," she said. "Although what I intend to tell you may cause you pain, fortunately I don't know enough to influence the war either way."
Leaning back against the broad trunk of a tree, Jesse crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her steadily. "As long as we understand one another, you may say what you like."
"I know this will sound rather silly, but do you mind if we go up to the attic when I tell you? I think perhaps it will be easier there."
"The attic? Oakleigh's attic?"
She nodded. "Yes. I don't know why, but it all started there with your sister's wedding dress and a news clipping. Maybe it will be easier to explain if we go there."
Shaking his head, Jesse muttered, "None of this is going to make any sense, but I guess I've already committed myself to the deed."
She put a hand on his arm. "I want us to be alone when I tell you."
A faint smile curved his mouth. "I wonder just who will be more at risk?''
“This is it." Amanda draped the wedding dress over the open trunk and glanced up at Jesse.
He was regarding her with a stunned, disbelieving expression. "So you're saying that one minute you were living in 1994, and then you put on that dress and traveled back in time?" he repeated slowly.
Amanda managed a smile. "Basically. I know it sounds crazy. It would to me, too. But that's the only conclusion that 1 can reach. One minute I was in 1994, and then I fastened that last button, and the wind blew out the light and I got dizzy, and when I regained my senses, I was here. I don't know how else to explain it."
Jesse frowned. "Forgive me, but I find that very hard to believe."
"How do you think I knew about Michael and Jamie? There was an article in the Memphis paper dated June 19, 1864, telling how a Holly Springs man had been killed only six months after his wedding to a Memphis woman. The Yankees claimed Jamie was responsible. That suspicion ended up dividing the Brandon family, and in 1994, Oak-leigh would be sold. By preventing the feud, maybe we prevented the house from eventually being made into a mall."
Rising from the crate where he'd been sitting, Jesse walked over to the wedding dress. He didn't say anything for a long time, but stood looking down at the satin dress as if afraid to touch it.
Amanda watched silently. She wouldn't blame him if he didn't believe her. It was too fantastic for anyone to believe.
Finally, Jesse looked up at her. "So what will happen now? Do you put the dress on again and go back?''
"Go back?" she echoed. She'd already thought of that, of course. If the dress had gotten her here, it would probably take her back. All she would have to do is find the missing button, and she would be back home where she belonged.
Or did she?
Did she really belong there? She'd never felt like it. Jessica had been right when she'd said Amanda had been born in the wrong time. But could she adjust to living a hundred years too soon? The twentieth century was filled with marvels and timesaving conveniences. She remembered enough history to know that times in the South would be much harder before it was all over with. After the inevitable fall of the Confederacy, there would be Reconstruction and carpetbaggers and endless struggle.
But in 1994, there was also war and hunger and poverty. Times didn't really change, only people did. There had always been war, always been hunger and hard times. Until mankind figured out a way to avoid war and the other evils of the world, nothing would really change.
Here, there would be love and hope. And here there was Jesse…
"Amanda?"
She looked up and took a deep breath. "What do you think I should do, Jesse?"
"What do you want to do?" he countered. "It's your decision to make." He rubbed a hand across his face and mumbled, "God, what am I saying? I'm not even sure I believe any of this, and I'm acting as if putting on that wedding dress will whisk you a hundred years into the future." He took a deep breath and said flatly, "Deborah wore the dress to be married in, and she's still here. Why would it only work for you?"
"Maybe because Deborah has found her true love. She's already in the right century." Amanda slid one hand over the satin folds of the gown. ' 'One of the buttons is missing," she murmured. "I think I recall losing it the night I wore the dress. It would have to be found if I wanted to go back…"
When her voice trailed into silence, Jesse asked harshly, "Is that what you want? To go back?"
Throat aching, she looked up at him. ' 'Do you want me to stay?"
"I want you to do what you feel you must," he said shortly. "Whatever it is, I'll understand."
"I think," she said after a moment, "because I spent so many years dreaming of you, fate took pity on me and brought us together."
Hot tears unexpectedly stung her eyes, and Amanda was vaguely surprised to see sudden damp splotches mar the ivory satin of the wedding dress. She dragged her hand over her cheeks to wipe away the tears.
"Amanda," Jesse said gruffly, and reached out to pull her into his arms. "I won't lie and say I don't want you. You know I do. But I want you to be happy. If you truly think we're meant to be together, we will be, even if it's only in my dreams. You must have family that will miss you if you stay here. Maybe you should go."
She looked up at him, shaking her head. "They're all dead. I'm the last Brandon."
"But won't you miss anyone?"
"Maybe Jessica. But we haven't stayed close. She'll think I just couldn't bear losing the house, and left town." Amanda laughed shakily. "Somehow I think she'd approve. She always said I was born in the wrong time."
His arms tightened. "Are you saying you want to stay?"
"Yes. I want to stay."
"Thank God. I don't know what I would have done if you said no…" He kissed her fiercely, and Amanda knew she had made the right decision.
When Jesse finally lifted his head, he was breathing hard. "I see that I'm going to have to ask Forrest for leave to get married, so I can make an honest woman of you."
"Married? You mean-"
"I don't know how they do it in the twentieth century," Jesse said dryly, "but in 1864, people in love get married to each other." He glanced at the dress, then added, "Just please don't decide to wear that particular dress."
Caught between laughter and happy tears, Amanda said, "I won't. I promise. Now that I have found the man of my dreams, after all this time, I have no intention of taking any chance of losing him."
It was a quiet wedding, and due to the urgency of war, a brief one. Jesse wore his best gray uniform, and Amanda wore a simple cotton gown that Deborah said was elegant. in its simplicity.
"But I still don't understand," she said with a sigh, "why you refuse to borrow my dress. Don't you like it?"
"Oh, yes," Amanda said with a smile, and her glance at Jesse was so mischievous he had a hard time not laughing. "I have to say it's my favorite dress. I just wanted something of my very own. I hope you understand."
"I suppose so. It barely fits me now. Why, when I put it on to have my portrait done, I could hardly get all the buttons fastened."
"That," Michael said, "is because of your condition."
Deborah blushed and protested, "No, it's because one of the buttons is missing. I've looked everywhere for it but can't find it. I guess it just popped off somewhere."
"I'm sure that's it," Amanda agreed. "It's a shame Jamie couldn't be here for the wedding, but I understand that General Forrest has taken him with him to Tupelo."
Michael, his face healed now, grinned. "He's not sorry to go. If there's anything Jamie likes better than fighting Yankees, I don't know what it is."
Jesse smiled as his gaze drifted back to Amanda. Maybe it was wrong, but he'd helped her convince Jamie that she was a distant cousin from England. Fortunately, there were enough cousins that Jamie wasn't really certain which side of the Brandons she came from, and they'd been purposely oblique. One day they might tell them all the truth, but not now.
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