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  She nodded, trying to ignore the tensing of her abdominal muscles. “My wedding ring. I… I threw it into the water when you were swimming. Listen, I’ve got to get out of this mud.” Focusing on getting to drier land, she was vaguely aware of the man staring at her.

  “Are you all right, ma’am?” He turned on his side and wiped his bloody temple on his shirtsleeve.

  “I don’t know,” Suzanne sputtered, as she shuffled on all fours to the grass. A strange cramping began at the small of her back and was wrapping around her hanging belly. Turning her head to the man who was now crawling toward her, she muttered, “But you need to see a doctor.”

  “I think you may need one more than I do,” he breathed back, collapsing on the lush green knoll. “You’re bleeding too.”

  “I’m what?” Startled, Suzanne grabbed up the front of her dress and was shocked to see bloody water trickling down her legs. “Oh my God, this can’t be happening now! It’s… it’s too early!”

  “Early?”

  She looked at him as though he were either blind or just stupid. “I’m pregnant! But my due date isn’t until the twenty-ninth!”

  Charles Garrity stared at the strange woman next to him who was kneeling on all fours, gasping for breath, and appearing as though she was about to become hysterical at any moment. He looked back out to the river and couldn’t see the railroad bridge. Wondering how far he had floated before she’d found him, he glanced around at his surroundings and, as his gaze fell upon a piece of red machinery, he felt his jaw dropping in awe.

  “What is that?” he whispered, lifting his hand and pointing to it.

  The woman raised her head and looked in the direction of his hand. “It’s my car, what do you think it is?” she demanded impatiently while glaring at him. “Look, I need some help here. You think you can make it to the car and get my purse? I have a cell phone. I need to call nine-one-one and get an ambulance here right away. I am not going to have my baby in the mud!”

  He glanced back into her frightened blue eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about getting help! I’m in labor here!” She again pointed to the large red metal piece of machinery. “Get my purse!”

  “Your purse?”

  “In the car.”

  “The car? That’s an automobile?”

  Still kneeling on all fours, she appeared exasperated as she lifted one hand and pushed the short curly blond hair back from her face. She then spoke to him slowly and deliberately. “Just… go… in… the car… and get… my… purse.” She took a deep breath before adding quickly, “or help me to stand and I’ll damn well do it myself!”

  “All right. I get it. I’m not lame,” he muttered, pushing himself upright. Once on his feet, he couldn’t seem to find his balance and nearly fell back down.

  “Oh, geez… what a pair we are. You’re worse off than I am!” the woman exclaimed. “Here, help me up.”

  He turned to her and grabbed her outstretched hand. Using all his strength, Charles managed to get her upright as they awkwardly balanced each other.

  Grasping the front of his shirt, she looked into his eyes and whispered, “Who are you, anyway?”

  “Charles Garrity, ma’am. And thank you again… for pulling me out of the river.” He didn’t know what else to say to this confusing female and he certainly had no idea what to do with a woman about to give birth.

  She nodded, threading her arm through his and leaning against him as she used her other hand to cradle her extended belly. “I’m Suzanne. Suzanne McDermott. Now let’s just make it to the car so both of us can get some help.”

  Charles kept looking at the odd automobile. He’d paid almost five hundred dollars for a Ford Model T, but this fantastic machine in front of him was like nothing he had ever seen or imagined. He couldn’t contain his amazement any longer. “You drove this?”

  “Of course I drove it,” she shot back, suddenly stopping and bending forward again, obviously in a great deal of pain.

  Instantly, Charles reached down behind her legs and, with a grunt, he swept her up into his arms.

  “No! Wait! You’ll drop me!” she yelped, clutching so tightly around his neck and shoulders that he nearly stumbled again. The two of them swayed back and forth, teetering on the edge of a fall, until he righted his shoulders.

  “Just stay still, ease up, and we’ll make it,” he gritted out between clenched teeth as he lurched forward, concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other.

  As they approached the machine, Charles took one last step and set her down as gently as he could next to it. She leaned over the hood and breathed deeply, as though she too was exhausted by the effort.

  “Thanks. Okay, could you grab my purse? The cell phone is in it.”

  “Cell-phone?”

  “My portable telephone?” She glanced up at him and impatiently waved her hand to the interior. “Just open the door and give me my purse, please.”

  Portable telephone? What the hell was she talking about?

  He pulled on the metal latch and stared in wonder as the door opened easily and exposed the luxurious interior. There were rich leather seats, a control panel that was absolutely fantastic, and large windows all around. A leather-encased lever between the—

  “Look on the floor.” She interrupted his survey.

  He did as he was asked, running his hand over the thick pile carpeting. “I don’t see it,” he yelled back to her.

  “Look in the back, behind the driver’s seat.”

  Again, he did as asked, still marveling at the expansive room and comfort of this incredible vehicle. Where had this woman gotten such a thing? “There’s nothing here,” he said, coming back out to see her now leaning against the front fender, with arms cradling her belly, as though willing the baby to stay put.

  “Shit, shit, shit! I ran out of the house without it,” she gasped. “Now what am I going to do? How in the hell are we going to get help?”

  Although startled by her language, he offered, “Ma’am, I’ll help any way I can.”

  He watched as she stared at him.

  “Okay,” she quickly directed. “Get the keys and go into the trunk. There’s a large, blue bag in there.”

  He simply stared right back at her. “The keys?”

  “On the seat. I know I left them there.”

  He looked back into the car and saw a ring of keys on the driver’s seat. Leaning in once again, he scooped them up and hurried to the rear of the vehicle. When he turned the key in the lock, the whole panel swung up and he quickly leaned back to avoid the metal lid. Still marveling at the construction of this exceptional machine, he spied the shiny fabric bag and grabbed the web straps. “Got it.”

  Bringing it around to the front of the vehicle, he placed it on the hood.

  “Thank heavens I had enough sense to pack this thing last week,” she muttered, opening the bag and rummaging through it. She took out something white and handed it to him. “Here, open this and use it on your head.”

  It was made out of a shiny white material he had never seen. Unfolding it, he touched something that had the softness of fabric, yet wasn’t. “What is it?”

  “What’s it look like? A diaper.”

  “A diaper?”

  “Why do you repeat everything I say? Yes, a disposable diaper. Just stick it on your head.”

  “My head? Stick a diaper on my head?”

  “Ohh…” She waddled the three feet separating them and grabbed the thing out of his hands. Flipping it open, she pulled on some tabs and then wrapped the thing around his forehead, roughly patting the sticky tabs onto his wet hair. “There, that should hold for a while… at least to stop the bleeding. Now, you’re going to have to drive us to the hospital.”

  “I am?” Pushing the damn diaper against his wound, he glanced away and hated to admit that he was intimidated by the sheer complexity of the machine.

  In spite of everything, Suzanne couldn’t hold back a gi
ggle as she looked at the soaking wet man standing in front of her. He did look ridiculous. “Yes, you are. You have driven a car before, haven’t you? Damn, that would just be my luck… dripping wet, filthy, in labor, with a wounded man who can’t get me to a hospital!”

  “I’ve driven an automobile,” he insisted, straightening his backbone.

  “Good,” Suzanne answered, picking up the maternity bag and attempting to walk toward the back door of the SUV. She felt like her legs weren’t working correctly and she had to waddle. Waddle! How much more bizarre and embarrassing could this get? “Let’s get out of here. I want a doctor around when my baby arrives.”

  “Here, let me help you,” he said, wrapping his arm around what was left of her waist and assisting her. When they managed to get her onto the backseat, he stood panting.

  Suzanne looked up at the man with a glazed expression on his face and a baby’s diaper wrapped around his head. The two of them must truly be a sight and she almost laughed out loud at the mental image. The poor guy seemed frozen and quite unsure of the entire situation. She felt like she was instructing a child as she patiently began rattling off instructions. “Close the trunk and then get in the driver’s seat. C’mon, let’s go!”

  He nodded and closed the door. She watched through the windows as he slammed the trunk and hurried to the driver’s side. He opened the door and stared at the seat.

  “Get in,” she commanded, as another contraction captured her in a vise of pain.

  “You mean I don’t have to—”

  “Get in!”

  He did as he was instructed and then didn’t move.

  “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Oh please, do not tell me you don’t know what to do!” she gasped.

  “Well, I’ve never driven an automobile like… well, like this before,” he grumbled.

  “Okay, what kind of car have you driven?” This was not possible! How could her luck be this bad?

  “A Model T.”

  “What?”

  “A Ford Model T.”

  “Oh, gimme a break here.”

  He swung around in the seat and glared at her. “Look, I’m trying to help. You could try too. Just tell me what to do!”

  Suzanne held her lower abdomen with both hands and grunted through the next contraction. “Okay, just listen, we don’t have much time. Put the key into the ignition and fire this thing up!”

  “Where’s the—”

  “On the side of the steering column, there, on the right,” she said, pointing as he fumbled for a moment then sat back once the key was inserted. “Okay, now turn it… toward the dashboard.”

  A wave of relief swept over her as the engine cranked and the motor began humming.

  “This is astounding,” he said with a breath of awe.

  “Yeah, I’m astounded. I’m the textbook definition of backseat driver here,” she muttered, hugging her belly.

  “Huh?”

  “Forget it. Just push down on the big pedal on the right.” She watched as he did what he was told and the engine raced.

  “Gently!” she shouted over the roar.

  “Okay, okay. Now what?”

  “I meant put your foot on the brake, shift it into reverse, and back outta here.”

  “Put what into reverse?”

  Suzanne groaned with the realization that this man really didn’t know how to drive a modern car. “That lever in the middle—right there at your side. Push the black button on top with your thumb and shift the stick back to where the red R is. That’s reverse. Then use the gas pedal again to go.” She grabbed a baby blanket from the bag and was stuffing it between her legs as the car was swiftly thrust backward.

  “Stop! Hit the brakes, the brakes!” Suzanne yelped, pressing one hand against the back of the front seat.

  The car immediately jerked to a halt, throwing her back against her seat.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his face reddening as he adjusted the diaper at his temple. “Okay, how do I go forward now?”

  Righting herself, she muttered, “Maybe I should drive. I don’t need to be treated for whiplash too.”

  “No, really. I can do it,” he insisted. “Just tell me.”

  The tone of his voice wasn’t any real assurance, but what other choice did she have? Resigning herself to the situation, she sighed. “Fine. Just remember you have a very pregnant woman back here, so lighten up on the lead foot, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Now, put the gear shift into drive—the D.”

  “Okay. R is for reverse, D is for drive, you say? Okay. That makes sense.”

  He sounded as though he was trying to convince himself, rather than her, of his driving skills.

  “None of this makes sense, Charlie… none of it! How could you not know how to drive a car? Where have you been living? In a cave?”

  “I told you I know how to drive, just not one like this where there’s no clutch. Now, be quiet so I can concentrate.”

  Suzanne’s mouth hung open at the statement. Now was not the time for an argument. Now she had to get to a hospital. The car moved forward in slow, broken lurches, at speeds of only ten miles an hour, and she found she just couldn’t shut up.

  “You know, you can go faster than this. You’re going to have to go faster than this or I’ll be having the baby on the backseat!”

  He must have hit every single rut on the back country road. Suzanne grunted, gasped, grabbed his shoulder, and pleaded through it all. When they finally came to the main road, he stopped the car even though there were several times when he could have safely merged into traffic.

  “What’s wrong? Why aren’t we going?” she demanded.

  Charles Garrity stared at the unbelievable spectacle before him. Automobiles of every color and size whizzed past him with more speed than he’d ever imagined. White-knuckling the steering wheel, immense dread spread throughout his already tense body. Something was wrong. Very wrong, for this was no place he’d ever been before. Not in his day and age…

  “Where the hell am I?” he demanded.

  2

  “What do you mean, where are you? You’re in New Jersey.”

  “Where in New Jersey? What is all this?”

  “This? It’s Route Thirty-eight.” She shoved his shoulder. “We’re at a yield, not a stop. C’mon, there’s people backing up behind us. Go.”

  “But they’re all traveling so fast.”

  She stared at the back of his head as she held the blanket between her legs. If he didn’t look ridiculous with a diaper slipping off it, she would have smacked his skull. “Step on it!” She looked to her left and saw the road was empty. “Now!”

  He cautiously turned the car onto the highway and Suzanne breathed easier until she realized they were traveling at about twenty miles an hour. “Will you please drive faster? The speed limit is fifty here, and I really need to get to the hospital.”

  She felt the engine accelerate and took hope. Maybe his odd behavior had to do with his head wound and loss of blood. And maybe he was as much in need of a hospital visit as she was.

  “What are those signs?” he asked, nodding toward the billboards.

  “Advertisements.” One was for a casino at the Jersey shore with the digital amounts of winnings blinking furiously. “You haven’t ever seen them? How long have you been in this country?”

  “I’ve been here for almost twenty years and I’ve never seen anything like that. How do the numbers keep changing so quickly?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a computer chip, or something. Can you go faster?” she pleaded as another contraction wrapped around her even more tightly.

  “I am going fast!” he protested.

  She looked over his shoulder at the speedometer. “You’re only going forty miles an hour. Do at least sixty-five.”

  “What? I thought the purpose of this was get you to a hospital safely.”

  “Please!”

  He sped up and Suzann
e gripped the front seat as the contraction eased. “Where are you from, Charlie? Ireland?” she asked, desperate to get her mind off her situation.

  “Well, many years ago I was. I’ve just bought an fair-sized piece of land in Mount Laural.”

  “Really? What are you going to build, a house?” So many builders were streaming into the area and constructing executive homes. It’s why Kevin had made a financial killing when he’d sold off their land.

  “Eventually. My objective is to plant fruit trees, apple and peach, and market the harvest.”

  She stared at him. “Fruit trees?” All those acres of fruit trees that she had so loved were now plowed over by a steam shovel and big, carbon-copy houses with barren land took their place. “I wish you luck,” she whispered, as they approached a traffic light. “Slow down. Stop! It’s a red light!”

  The car screeched to a stop and Suzanne was practically in the front seat with him when the momentum suddenly ended and she fell back onto her seat. “What were you thinking?” she demanded.

  “I didn’t know I was supposed to stop,” he explained, looking back at her. “Are you all right?”

  “What do you mean you didn’t know? Where the hell are you from?”

  “I’m from a place that certainly doesn’t have any of this… these things, that’s where! A place where there isn’t this madness! Now, why don’t you tell me something. Where in the hell am I?”

  Something about the way he said it made the hairs on Suzanne’s neck rise. “Okay, calm down. You’re in Mount Laural, New Jersey. I thought you said you live here.”

  “I got here a few months ago, but when I arrived it looked nothing like this!”

  “Well, I don’t know what part you’ve seen, but this is how Mount Laural has looked for about the last forty years. Not a lot’s changed, except for the shopping centers and all the housing developments.”

  Suzanne watched as the man’s face became suddenly pale.

  “Something is very wrong here,” he mumbled as he peered out the windows. “This is all surreal.”

  “Look, Charlie,” she began in a soothing tone, “this is all very real. There are no Model T Fords, except in museums and antique car shows. This is the modern world. You know… modern, as in the new millennium?”