Heroes for Ghosts: A Gay MM Time Travel Romance (Love Across Time Book 1) by Jackie North

Author:Jackie North [North, Jackie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blue Rain Press
Published: 2018-06-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Devon did everything he normally did to get ready for bed, but after hours of pitching and rolling, and finally sending the blankets to the floor, he got up, turned up the heat, and made himself a cup of coffee that he did not drink. He sat at the kitchen table, his hands curled around the quickly cooling cup, and stared at the ash in the fireplace.

His eyes felt gritty, and he needed to shave, but what if he were in the bathroom and didn’t hear Stanley’s knock? And then he remembered why he’d not slept—he’d heard Stanley’s voice calling out to him in the dark, shouting to warn him of incoming shells, or, in a very quiet way, asking Devon to come get him and bring him home.

When Devon closed his eyes, he saw the trenches as he’d always imagined them before, full of soldiers, some young, some old. All of them were way too practical about it as they walked in the mud, carrying tin mugs of coffee, and singing songs while they stood around a glowing primus fire. Their faces were alight, their shoulders touching in a firm, warm circle, brothers in arms, waiting for death.

Burying his face in his hands, Devon tried to stem the faint strains of It’s a Long Way to Tipperary from buzzing in his ears, but he was so exhausted that it was too late to keep the streets from being gold and everybody from being gay—

“Get up, Devon,” he told himself. “Drink some coffee and go and look for him. You know you want to.”

He did, he most certainly did, even though when he went to the door to look out into the freezing rain, he realized that it was not yet dawn. The rain cast silver shadows in the porch light, making the white crosses, row on row, look like they were being slashed through with bayonet blades. It was as if the rain meant to dig up the bodies, most of them unidentified, and bid them to walk so they could get up and help Devon look for Stanley. The fact that Devon was thinking this was a sure sign he’d not gotten enough sleep and was halfway to the loony bin himself.

Would driving around in circles looking for Stanley help? No, probably not, and keeping the car for additional days would eat into his remaining savings and would not be covered by the stipend. Nor could he claim it as a necessary expense: miles covered looking for ghosts at twenty-five cents per mile would not go over well with the IRS. Regardless, he needed to return the car.

Devon waited until the sun came up, then put on his jacket, grabbed his keys, and drove slowly into the village. His tires splashed through puddles, and if he drove slowly because he was looking for Stanley, it couldn’t be helped. He would also look as he walked back to the cottage, and that couldn’t be helped either. At least it wasn’t raining anymore.

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