Only Yesterday by Webb Peggy

Author:Webb, Peggy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: world war ii, paranormal romance, time travel romance, classic romance, romance ebooks, peggy webb romance, peggy webb backlist, southern authors, historical romance elements, dangerous heros
Publisher: Peggy Webb

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The candle burned low, the air shimmered with electrical currents, and the clock lay on its side on the attic floor, split in half.

Ann pressed her hands to her temples, trying to ease the pressure. Images crowded in on her, and raw emotions threatened her sanity. The images were vague, like something she might have dreamed long ago, and yet they were far more compelling than dream memories.

Had they traveled through time, as Colt had suggested? Was he Anthony Chance? Was she Charlotte Ann Harris?

What was the truth? And would she ever know?

"The letters," she said suddenly.

"They're all in the trunk."

"Not Anthony's letters to my grandmother." She raced to the trunk. "Her letters to him."

She knelt and scrambled frantically through the contents of the trunk. There were Anthony's letters to Charlotte Ann, a silk shawl, a box of photographs, a paper rose, a diamond ring, a silk dressing gown, a pair of satin mules, and in the bottom a wedding gown, wrapped in blue tissue paper.

But no letters from Charlotte Ann Harris to Anthony Chance.

Flushed, she looked at Colt. "They're not here. Her letters are not here."

Colt knelt beside her and chafed her hands as if she were a shock victim he'd recently pulled from a burning fire. Which wasn't far from the truth.

"It's all right, Annie," Colt said. "Everything's going to be all right."

He handed her a mug of instant coffee. "Drink this. It's cold, but the jolt of caffeine is just what you need."

Her mind was whirling like a merry-go-round, and while she sipped she tried to make sense of the strange events.

"Better?" Colt said.

"Better." She managed a smile. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

"I don't know why. I've been a real witch."

"Never a dull moment with you, Annie."

She didn't protest about the name this time. Instead she concentrated on gaining control of herself.

When she'd finished the coffee, Colt set the mug aside, then settled on the floor beside her, close but not touching. Just looking at him was temptation enough. She was grateful for small favors.

"How did you know about your grandmother's letters?"

How did she? They weren't in the trunk. She couldn't have seen them. Before the hurricane she hadn't known about the engagement to Anthony Chance, so nobody in the family would have mentioned them.

But she remembered them so clearly. The way Charlotte Ann described waiting in the house Anthony had built, the terms of endearment she used, the gut-deep fear that she would lose the love of her life.

Ann had a floating sensation, as if her spirit were circling somewhere in another realm and her body had been left behind on the attic floor.

"Don't you know, Annie?" Colt took her hands and placed a tender kiss in her palms. "We're the lovers in those letters. Anthony Chance finally kept his word to his Annie."

What he said felt so right, so perfect. Their instant attraction, their striking likeness to the lovers, the way Colt used Anthony's exact phrases, the compelling sense of déjà vu. It all made sense in light of what Colt was saying.

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