Erin's Rebel

The sound of her name on his lips made her skin tingle. She tore the paper off the package. At the sight of the brooch, her breath caught.

“Do you like it?” he asked anxiously. “I had it made just for you.”

Eyeing him, she had a hard time finding her voice. This was Erin O’Connell’s brooch, the very one that had sent her back in time. It shone in her hands, new and unworn from time and wear.

What did this mean? She must be following Erin O’Connell’s footsteps. As far as she knew her being here hadn’t changed anything. Will was still destined to die this year.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Erin. If you don’t want the brooch—”

“No.” She clasped the pin against her chest as the meaning of his gift sank in. “It just means so much to me.”

His look of concern softened into a lopsided grin. “I’m happy you feel that way.”

“Thank you, Will.” She slipped the brooch into the pocket of her wrapper, then stood on her toes, lifting her arms to circle his neck. She kissed his cheek, inhaling his musky scent.

His mouth was on hers, hot and urgent. The softness of his moustache and chin beard tickled her lips. She opened to him, her tongue slipping inside to taste him thoroughly. He groaned, pressing the length of his body against her.

Chapter One

Erin Branigan had finally found the man of her dreams.

Unfortunately, he’d died over one hundred and forty years ago.

On a warm, bright day in mid-June, she stood in a small, church cemetery in a rural area outside Mason, Virginia. Vivid dreams of a handsome, Civil War soldier had sent her here, but they had also driven a wedge between her fiancé, Rick Meyers, and her. To solve this mystery, she’d called off her wedding two and a half months before. And now today, she hoped what she learned in this graveyard would put a halt to her nightly visions.

Erin kneeled beside the weathered granite headstone of the Confederate captain and traced her finger over the inscription.
William James Montgomery; Born September 20, 1833; Died November 23, 1864
. Despite the warmth of the day, she shivered, recalling the dark-eyed man and her intense, sometimes sensual dreams. After taking a deep breath, she rose, brushed off her jeans, and snapped a few photos.

“Here’s his wife.” The caretaker, who’d introduced himself as John, tipped the bill of his black Orioles cap toward the stone beside Montgomery’s.

Erin glanced at it.
Anne Eugenia Montgomery; Born October 3, 1838; Died September 15, 1861.

“She was so young,” she said.

The caretaker lifted his cap and ran a liver-spotted hand through his thinning, gray hair. Replacing the hat, he turned to indicate the old, stone-walled church. “The records show she died shortly after William enlisted in the Confederate Army.”

Erin nodded. Her grandmother had told her some of this story. The couple had a daughter, Amanda, and a stillborn son. They were also buried here, along with Amanda’s husband and their children.

She fingered the engraved silver frame of the brooch pinned to the lapel of her beige, cotton blazer. As she glanced at the clear summer sky, a light breeze ruffled her cropped hair. Sparrows, perched in the oaks overlooking the plots, twittered. Such a beautiful day to recall such sadness.

“My grandmother told me her great-aunt Erin O’Connell knew William Montgomery. She met him during the war. This brooch was given to her by the captain.” She clasped the oval frame, surrounding tightly woven chocolate-brown hair. “It’s supposed to be a lock of his hair.”

“Well, I’ll be.” John admired the pin. “Where’s this great-aunt buried?”

“In Pennsylvania in a small town named Candor. It’s just north of Gettysburg. My grandmother lived there, but she died last week.” Her voice broke as she recalled the dear lady.

“Sorry to hear that.”

She cleared her throat. “That’s why I’ve come here. It was one of her last requests that I find this man’s grave. In addition to the brooch, she had an old Bible and photos of both her great-aunt and William Montgomery.” She lifted the photos she carried with her.

“My God! She looks just like you.”

Erin smiled. “There are a few minor differences.” In fact, she’d found the family resemblance unnerving, especially since Captain Montgomery resembled the soldier in her dreams. “Grandma also told me Erin O’Connell had been a Federal spy.”

John arched his brows and let out an appreciative whistle. “What a great story! Researching the past is fascinating. You say you’re from Philadelphia?”

“Yeah. I’m a reporter for the
Philadelphia Inquirer
.”

“Well, then, feel free to go through all the records we have.” He gestured at the church. “It should be all in a day’s work for you.”

****

On her return trip to Pennsylvania later that night, Erin couldn’t shake the eerie feeling she’d experienced after going through the ledger. The facts she’d uncovered only added to her sense of unease. As her dreams combined with the historic facts, a feeling of insanity invaded her mind.

On her drive south, the winding two-lane highway through north-western Virginia had been so open and scenic in daylight. Now in the darkness, the heavily forested road and lack of traffic caused chills to slither through her as she mulled over her discoveries. She should have left earlier but had found it difficult to pull herself away. Erin had discovered the man for whom she’d been searching. But would finding his grave finally end the dreams, or would this just make things a helluva lot worse?

The moist scent of impending rain sifted through the window she’d left cracked open. Hopefully, any shower would be light. She didn’t look forward to a long drive in heavy rain, especially on an unfamiliar road. After two, quick flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder, the first drops of rain hit the windshield. A deluge followed, forcing her to flick the wipers on high.

A sudden vibration shocked already frayed nerves. Where did that come from? Her cell phone was in her purse on the adjoining seat, so it hadn’t come from that. The hair brooch on her lapel? When she fingered it, a sharp pulsation shot up her arm.

“What the hell?” She jerked her hand.

Despite the strange sensation, Erin remained focused on the road. Nothing ahead or behind her but forest. Dark,
creepy
forest encased in sheets of rain. Unable to see, she considered pulling over but wasn’t sure she wanted to stop
there
.

As the vibration increased, she almost skidded off the blacktop. She grasped at the clasp, trying to yank the pin off her jacket.

Headlights glared in the distance and grew brighter. She had to concentrate on regaining control of the car. Tires squealed as a truck slid into her path on a rain-slicked curve.

“Oh, shit!” Heart pounding, she jerked the steering wheel to avoid a collision. She hydroplaned off the highway and swerved onto the shoulder—too late to see the tree dead in front of her.

Impact rolled as a film in slow motion. The sound of crunching metal, smell of rubber and gasoline, and a jolt through her system were the last things she remembered.