Snodgrass, Catherine Read online

  Another Chance, Another Time

  by

  Catherine Snodgrass

  ISBN 1-55316-114-9

  Published by LTDBooks

  www.ltdbooks.com

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2002 Catherine Snodgrass

  Artwork copyright © 2002 Trace Edward Zaber

  Previously published by RFI West.

  Published in Canada by LTDBooks, 200 North Service Road West, Unit 1, Suite 301, Oakville, ON L6M 2Y1

  All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the publisher is an infringement of the copyright law.

  Printed in Canada.

  National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Snodgrass, Catherine, 1953-

  Another chance, another time / Catherine Snodgrass.

  Also available in paperback format.

  ISBN 1-55316-114-9 (electronic) ISBN 1-55316-886-0 (REB 1100 1200)

  I. Title.

  PS3569.N62A76 2002a 813'.6 C2002-904820-6

  * * *

  Dedication

  To Brian Cosgrove, who helped keep me straight on the legal aspects.

  To Susan Krinard, who told me where the story really began.

  To Renee Buckles (the real Renee and one of my biggest supporters), who insisted I put her in a book. She swore afterward she was nothing like the character, then bragged to everyone she was in the book. She passed away June 28, 2001, of breast cancer. I miss her very much, but she's still always there for me.

  And, as always, to the men in my life-Les, Jim, and Omer.

  * * *

  Chapter One

  Alec Edwards stared into the blinding rain. Traffic crawled along Interstate 10. Typical Los Angeles traffic. At this rate he'd never make it to the fund-raising dinner, and that was fine with him. As Alec had left the hospital that evening, Walt Rushmore had let it slip that his daughter Andrea would be joining them.

  Somehow Alec had managed to keep from wincing. The Rushmores were playing matchmaker. As far as Alec was concerned, it would be a match made in hell. An abortive relationship with Andrea four months ago proved that. For some reason, the Rushmores and Andrea couldn't understand Alec just wasn't interested. Tonight was going to be pure agony. The weather seemed to agree.

  Traffic slowed, cars wedged bumper to bumper, horns blared from all directions to no avail-nothing was going to move this traffic along. They were stuck here for God knew how long.

  Alec smiled. Maybe there was justice in the world after all. The hospital already had his money for the benefit tonight and now he wouldn't have to bear Andrea's company.

  As he thought that, the crawl of cars ground to a halt. Headlights from oncoming cars zoomed by and bathed him in eerie yellow light. They moved a little too quickly for Alec's comfort. He blessed the concrete divider that stood between him and the eastbound lane. Still, his gaze remained riveted to those mesmerizing lights.

  Through a sheet of rain, Alec watched in horror as a car broke free from those coming in the opposite direction. It careened off the center divider and sailed through the air.

  Alec snapped open his seat belt and dove for the passenger side.

  It was silent except for the beating rain, and then came the explosion of metal and glass.

  When silence descended once more, Alec eased up, looking for damage. He was safe. The car behind him was a shambles. He shoved his shoulder against the door and sprinted to the wreckage.

  Others did the same. A patrolman from the eastbound lane squealed to a stop, leaped the divider, and ran to the wreckage.

  "There's a medical bag in my car! Get it!" Alec pointed to his car.

  Relief washed over the young officer's face.

  Alec stared at the tangled heap of vehicles and wondered if there was any hope someone was still alive. The first car, a beat up Colt, had plowed headlong into the windshield of the second, a late model Cougar.

  Crawling up, Alec wrenched open the door of the Colt. The stench of liquor took his breath away. A pair of gaping, vacant eyes stared back at him. Nevertheless, Alec felt for the man's pulse. Nothing.

  He jumped down, expecting the same from the Cougar. The door groaned in protest as he forced it open. A woman was behind the wheel, her face, neck, and chest sliced by shards of metal and glass. The Colt's bumper missed decapitating her by mere inches. He gingerly felt for a pulse and then sighed in relief. She was still alive.

  Her eyes fluttered open and focused on him. There was a catch in her breath, an awareness in those deep brown eyes of hers. She grappled for his hand and then curled her bloodied fingers around it.

  "It's...you." Her voice was no more than a whisper. "God, how I have missed you." She braced her cheek against the seat and drifted off, a touch of a smile on her lips.

  Alec stared at her hand still nestled in his. Warmth radiated up his arm until his body was engulfed. Not even the chilling rain could diminish the heat pulsing through him. Who was she? He racked his brain trying to place her. They had never met, had they?

  "Here's your bag." The policeman set the black satchel near the open door.

  Alec turned to thank him. Shock paralyzed the other man.

  "She's going to make it." His tone warned the officer to say nothing to the contrary.

  Finally, the man forced himself to nod. "And the other one?"

  "He's already gone."

  The officer glanced around. "The paramedics are on the way, but with this rain and traffic it might take a while."

  "Some butterfly kisses will hold her in place until-"

  "Kisses?"

  Alec blinked. Where was his head? "Sorry, I meant stitches." When he tried to extricate his hand, her hold tightened. He leaned closer, cupping his free hand over both of theirs. "It's all right. I need to help you. I'm right here. I won't leave."

  "Yes, you will. You are never there when I need you most." A sigh heaved her chest and her hand slipped free.

  "Not this time." Alec had no idea who she thought he was, but he knew whoever it was, she had to have faith that person would help. It was up to him.

  He pulled off the paper strips on the stitches and used them to hold her skin together until he could get her to a hospital. With all the blood, it was hard to tell the extent of her wounds. Around him he was conscious of the officer directing traffic and the pounding rain, but that was all. Every sense was focused on the woman before him. It was only the two of them, as if the world around them had ceased to exist.

  Each time he recalled those brown eyes upon him, Alec shivered. She knew him, trusted him. And he would swear he had never met her in his life. Now he was her lifeline, and although Alec had never been one to assign himself God-like qualities, he knew in his heart he was the only person who could save her now.

  Another patrol car pulled up. Minutes later, the officer sidled up to him.

  "How is she?"

  "Fine. She's going to be just fine."

  "Paramedics are almost here." He ducked away.

  Alec bent over his patient once more to examine his handiwork. He smoothed back her blood-matted brown hair and felt a bump just above her forehead. A possible concussion was added to the list of injuries. That would explain her confusion when she saw him and her unconsciousness now. There was little more he could do for now.

  Reaching over to
the other seat, he snagged her purse. Her driver's license listed her as Danielle Morgan, age thirty, height five-three, weight one-twenty. In the photo, she was smiling. Her hair brushed her shoulders in a feather-like embrace. A pink dot on the license indicated she was an organ donor.

  Alec gritted his teeth. He refused to allow it to come to that. He shifted through the contents of her purse once more and found a passport where another bright smile shined from her photograph. A plane ticket with itinerary was nestled inside the passport. Alec took a peek and didn't know whether to smile or cry for her.

  She had been on her way to LAX to catch a flight to Europe. That would be his vacation of choice. Trouble was, he had never taken the time to do it, and never found anyone he wanted to go with. Whoever was waiting for her at the airport was probably frantic.

  He waved one of the officers over and shoved the ticket into his hand. "Better call the airline and let them know what happened. They can notify anyone waiting for her there. Any word on that rescue unit?"

  "They're about a mile away. I can see the lights from here."

  Alec looked in the direction he pointed. Flashing red lights wove along the median toward them. He squatted down and picked up the woman's limp hand. This time, she didn't stir. Her pulse was thready. They were running out of time.

  "Hang on, Danielle." No, that wasn't right. He didn't care what her driver's license said. "Dani, hang on."

  Alec thought he felt the slightest pressure as she squeezed his hand in response. Impossible. It was his imagination wanting her to be all right.

  The sirens ground to a halt in front of the cars. Footsteps beat a hasty path to reach the victim. For now, Alec was in the way. His job would begin again once they got her to the hospital.

  He watched the firefighters cut her out of the car with the Jaws of Life. Then the paramedics eased her onto the gurney.

  "Coming, Doc?" one asked.

  "We'll get your car to you," the officer said as he gathered Dani's possessions.

  They didn't have to ask him twice. He slipped the officer his keys. Then, with the right afforded his occupation, he crawled into the rescue squad beside her.

  "Radio ahead. I'm going to need x-rays, blood typing, and a surgical team."

  "Got it." The paramedic radioed the instructions to the hospital.

  * * *

  For Alec, everything was in place by the time the ambulance reached the emergency room doors. The hospital staff wheeled Dani Morgan away to prep her for surgery, x-ray for broken bones, and run necessary blood work. Then it would be up to Alec, and he was going to be good to no one unless he calmed down.

  He stopped long enough to slug down a cup of water before marching off to scrub up. Dr. Kevin Samuels was already there, stripping from his street clothes into surgical scrubs. The rain had tightened his red hair to clumps of curls. His blue eyes danced with mischief when he saw Alec.

  "If I'd known this was a formal occasion, I would have dressed in something better than jeans."

  Normally Alec would have come back with a jibe of his own. Tonight he just wasn't in the mood. He threw his damp suit into a wad at the bottom of the locker. Kevin had the good sense to let it go.

  "I was on my way home when you arrived. Thought I'd stay and help." He jerked his head toward the operating room. "She's a mess. Damn fine thing you were there. I understand it was over an hour before the paramedics could get to the scene."

  An hour? Had they really been there that long?

  "The other driver died on impact. Frankly, I was surprised to find her still alive. You know, she was on her way to the airport. Going to Europe."

  Kevin looked up. "So she was conscious during all this."

  Alex slipped his blue scrubs on. "No. I was searching for identification and found the tickets."

  "So she never spoke at all."

  He straightened. Two strides took him to the sink. "I never said that either."

  Kevin was on his heels and nearly bumped into him when Alec started to scrub up.

  "What did she say?"

  "What does it matter?"

  He shrugged. "I guess it doesn't if she didn't say anything about any medical conditions."

  Alec drew in air to steady his nerves. "She didn't. She just mistook me for someone else."

  "Is that what has you rattled?"

  Yes. That was it. The whole thing spooked him. Dani Morgan hadn't just thought he was someone else, but she knew him, and Alec couldn't for the life of himself understand how.

  "I guess so."

  Kevin's gaze was sharp, appraising. "Are you going to be all right to do this?"

  He had to be. She was depending on him. By some instinct he couldn't explain, he had to help her. He was the only one who could save her.

  "I'm fine. Let's do it."

  Together they pushed into the operating room. Dani looked pale next to the white sheets that draped her. Shock and blood loss had taken their toll. The rest of the team surrounded her. The anesthesiologist was at her head.

  "Is she out?" Alec studied her face, deciding where to start first.

  "Almost."

  "Let me know when, Joe. Anything else?"

  "No broken bones, Dr. Edwards," the nurse said. "No hepatitis. No drugs or alcohol in her blood. But there are more lacerations on her torso."

  "Then we'll start there." Alec lifted the sheet and blanched. A deep gash followed the curve of her right breast. He tried not to reprimand himself. From the position of the other vehicle, there had been no way to check for other injuries.

  That's no excuse, logic argued. You should have checked her again in the ambulance.

  "Ready, Doc."

  "Thanks, Joe. Okay, people. Let's get to work."

  * * *

  Dani Morgan felt herself slip further into that dark place in her mind. She was aware of where she was, what had happened, and that she was very badly hurt. None of that mattered. They couldn't put her under. They just couldn't. No one understood what it would mean.

  She had gone there once before when she had her tonsils out as a child. It had terrified her ever since, yet she could speak of it to no one. Now she had to. But the words wouldn't come. Dani couldn't make them understand.

  And slowly she went back to that place. That place where she had died.

  * * *

  Chapter Two

  Kourion, Island of Cypress-July 20, 365

  Adia molded the last loaf of bread into a smooth round and placed it with the other twenty-three near the oven to rise. By morning she would have hot bread to sell in the market. With luck, all would be gone within an hour, as they had been this morning.

  She dusted the flour from her hands and brushed back an unruly strand of her long, black hair. No matter how many pins she shoved into it, it always burst free.

  "I swear one day I shall hack the entire length of it off." Gritting her teeth, she set the bone hairpin in place once more. Now for her next task.

  Her potter's wheel beckoned in the shade of the overhanging portico. Here she could sit and lose her thoughts in her work and force the clay to her will, her design. Adia loved the way the slightest nudge altered the design. If she employed tools, the effect was even more dramatic.

  Urns, pots, bowls, and dishes lined the shelves behind her-all fire-treated and ready for painting. Buyers were waiting. She had made a good life for herself, her son, and her sister. It was a long time coming. Finally, the town's folk could overlook everything else that had occurred. She had made a mistake. Very often good girls did. This one was no burden to the public.

  That still did not mean she was allowed within their circles. But if their coins helped her survive, Adia could deal with the remarks behind her back.

  There was a snort from the corner of the courtyard. She looked up in time to see their mule wandering toward the loaves of bread.

  "Oh, no. I do not think so." She snagged his halter and chained him to the stone water trough nearby. "Cameo will have some grain for you
later. Maybe a little exercise as well." She added a healthy scratch to the animal's ears and then returned to her potting.

  Tucking her skirts around her knees, Adia settled behind her wheel and pumped it to life with her feet. A little water, a little clay, and soon...

  "Adia!"

  At the sound of her younger sister's voice, she pulled her head up. Young Sozo bouncing from her hip, Cameo raced into the tiled courtyard. The couple in the rooms across from them peeked out and then just as quickly pulled back. They minded their business and Adia minded hers.

  She followed Cameo's progress and prayed the wooden sandals did not trip her. Cameo would survive, but Sozo was barely eighteen months old and did not take kindly to falls of any kind.

  Cameo's dark brown eyes were sparkling-a common event. It took little to excite a girl of fifteen years. Adia knew that from experience.

  She sighed. Had she ever been that young? It seemed a lifetime although it had only been four years ago.

  "Slow, Cameo. The world will not collapse before you tell me the news," she said with an indulgent smile.

  Cameo set Sozo to his chubby legs. "There is a ship approaching the harbor."

  Adia's heartbeat quickened. She forced it to slow, resumed her work, and smiled when a bowl formed at just the press of her fingers. "Ships are always approaching the harbor."

  Cameo grabbed the sleeve of her tunic and gave her a shake. "No. Not this one. The sail is gold and scarlet. It is Demetrius."

  The side of the bowl collapsed. Adia froze. "Are you certain?"

  "I saw him on the bow myself."

  Adia dipped her hands in the bucket of water. Cleansing them gave her time to think, not that she did not know what to do. She had had this moment planned for a long time. But the action gave her time to order her thoughts, strengthen her resolve. Nothing must stand in her way, not even herself.

  Still, when she pushed upright onto suddenly wooden legs, she would swear a thousand butterflies danced in her stomach. She clutched the stone column at the edge of the portico for balance.