Across the River of Yesterday Read Free

and affection hadn’t broken through her icy shock, it might have taken days before she reached this point. She was poised on a very precarious ledge, but at least she was back among the living. He would have to be cautious to make certain she didn’t slip back. “Well, I’m sure Frank is glad to make your acquaintance …” He trailed off inquiringly.
    “Serena,” she supplied absently. “He looks hungry. Have you fed him today?”
    Frank always looked hungry and was a con artist of the highest caliber, as Gideon well knew. “Maybe he could use a midnight snack.” Gideon reached out his hand and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go scout around the kitchen and see what we can find for him, Serena.”
    “Okay.” Her hand curled around his as trustingly as that of a small child.
    “Ross, why don’t you make up the bed in the guest room and see if you can find something for Serena to sleep in.”
    Ross nodded and turned to open the front door. “Right, it may come down to draping her in a sheet, but I’ll find something.”
    Gideon smiled at Serena as he followed Ross into the house and flipped on the light in the foyer. “I believe we can avoid using the sheet, but I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with one of my shirts. I don’t think we can find a nightgown for you.”
    She frowned. “But why would I need a nightgown?” She touched the sleek satin of her bodice. “I’m wearing a nightgown.” Then emotion flared behind the vagueness of her eyes, raw and hurting emotion that threatened to burn away the comforting veil of forgetfulness.
    Gideon silently cursed his lack of luck in making the seemingly innocent remark. He said quickly, “I just thought you might want to change after you shower. Are you hungry? Maybe it would be a good idea if we found something for you to eat too.” He took her elbow and gently propelled her down the corridor in the direction of the kitchen. The pain was fading from her expression and she was casually petting Frank’s head as he trailed beside her down the hallway. “I’m not much of a gourmet cook, but I can whip up an omelet. Do you cook?”
    She shook her head. “The sisters at the convent were always more interested in feeding our soulsthan our bodies.” Her lips curved in a tiny smile. “Sister Maria said we thought far too much about the worldly pleasures.”
    A convent! “I wouldn’t call eating a particularly worldly pleasure.”
    “You aren’t Sister Maria.”
    “For which I’m profoundly grateful. I’m far too irreverent to fit into a religious community.”
    “I wasn’t very comfortable there either.” Her smile widened to breathtaking beauty. “I was always getting into trouble. I always laughed too much. In chapel and vespers and at—”
    “Good.” His hand tightened on her elbow. “I like a woman who laughs. The world doesn’t have enough laughter to go around.” He pushed opened the door to the kitchen and flicked on the ceiling light. “Now suppose you and Frank go sit over there at the table and watch me prepare the most splendiferous omelet you’ve ever tasted.”
    She smiled again and he felt his breath stop in his throat. What was going on here? One minute he felt only aching sympathy and the next he was ready to pull the girl into the nearest bedroom. She was the walking wounded, for heaven’s sake. He turned away and opened a cabinet above the stove. “And you can tell me more about Sister Maria’s definition of sin.”
    Serena finished the last bite of omelet and set her fork down on her plate. She had been very hungry, she realized with dull surprise. She tried to remember the last time she had eaten. It had been this morning at dawn. She had shared warmcroissants and strong black coffee with— She shied away from the memory with a sense of panic. The Hopi Indians. No past and no future. Only now. Now was safe and free from pain. Gideon had told her this was true, and in a shifting world of lies, his words were the