Page 142 of Frankly, My Dear

Selene heard the sob of fear in his voice. She tried to reach out for him, but a curtain was growing between her and this mere mortal.

James wouldn’t let her go, however. Through excruciating pain, she felt him and Iris probing the wounds in her shoulder and abdomen. Iris put a cup of some liquid to Selene’s lips, forcing her to drink. And she felt no more pain until she awakened to the searing pull of a needle passing through her skin, stitching her bullet holes shut.

“I’ll never be able to model again,” Selene muttered. “No one wants a scarred woman.”

“I do,” James said simply, and Selene felt a teardrop fall onto her chest from above.

Oh, James, she thought, seeking the respite of death once more.

But death did not come easily to Selene. Days passed and she alternated between racking fever and painful chills.

“Let me go,” she whispered on more than one occasion.

“Never!” James said in a hoarse voice. “As God is my witness, you will not die.”

Selene tried to smile at the odd twist of fate that would have James quoting Gone With the Wind, but her lips would not move.

One day she grew more lucid and asked, “How is Etienne?”

“Fine. Worried about you,” James responded.

“And your mother?”

A poignant silence followed.

Selene fought her fever and opened her eyes. “Tell me.”

“Dead,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. “She died instantly from her gunshot wound.”

“Oh, James.” She wanted to hold this tortured man, but her arms seemed frozen at her sides. Then she remembered something else. “Victor and Giselle?”

“Both dead. Victor died in the fields. He struggled with me and landed accidentally in the fire he started. Giselle died…elsewhere.”

So many deaths! So much misfortune for James! Selene tried to swallow over her parched throat, and James tipped a cup of cool water to her lips. “How…how did Giselle die?”

James seemed to hesitate. “Her body was found down by the bayou. She was wearing your gown and clutching that damned voodoo doll in her hands. I don’t know if drugs or lightning killed her.” He shrugged, uncaring.

Selene’s heart started to beat madly. “James, do you think she traveled to the future in my place? Do you think her dead body was just a shell? Maybe that’s what you would have found if I’d gone back to my time.”

“I don’t know, Selene. I don’t care. It’s over now. Just rest.”

After that, the fever overtook her again and raged for days.

When she awakened finally, Blossom was fussing about her bed. Selene moved her head tentatively on the pillow and realized that she lay in James’s huge canopied bed.

“Why am I here?” she asked in a croaky voice.

“Well, missie, you took your good time comin’ back to us,” Blossom said tartly, coming closer, but Selene could see the tears welling in her eyes. “And you’re in this room ’cause the other bedchamber burned in the fire.

The fire. Selene’s murky mind registered the memory of fire but couldn’t assimilate all the implications.

“How long…how long…since that night?”

“Three weeks.”

“Three…three…how is that possible?”

“You been sick, honey chile. We almos’ lost you a few times, but the master, he wouldn’t let you go. Nosirree. You gots him to thank for your life, you surely do.”