Author's Notes: This story is rated "R" for strong adult content.

It is a "Crossover" romance, adventure and an "alternate universe/ending" fan fiction creation, made especially for fellow Colonel William Tavington (a.k.a. Jason Isaacs) fans and enthusiasts.

I was sent a great deal of emails regarding this story, mainly with praise and constructive criticism, such as why did Savannah speak so odd being in the 18^th century and why did she not know of certain customs or mannerisms of the time? Before I could answer those kind readers that took time out of their busy schedules to not only check out our great site, read my story, and take time to respond to my story, every one of those people that sent me that criticism emailed back immediately, basically saying, "uh, duh! She's from the future." Boy, was I laughing that week!

I have been asked why I chose a time travel type of 'fan fiction,' and to be brutally honest, the day I started this was the day a few friends of mine and I had a 'movie night' and picked 'Michael J. Fox' movies, and of course, we were enthusiastic about renting all three of the 'Back to the Future' series. That was my inspiration but unfortunately, without the cool Delorian, Doc Brown and Mary McFly(though there is a mention of Back to the Future...stuff in this story.) I truly believe all of us are intrigued with time travel and if it's really possible. Science proves that we may be able to go ahead, but not back, but what if science is wrong and we could go back? What time period would you go to and what would you do to improve life, or make best of the situation? So, not only with my slight obsession with time travel, I decided to make Colonel Tavington more of a human, especially when he has the love of a good woman behind(and in front of him for that matter). Well, good can be taken into a different context(if we're talking about a gal that's not had her 'final flavor,' sorry. You're out of luck with that!). Overall, I've made Savannah a tribute to every woman that I know, from my mother to the wonderful and cheerful check-out gal I see every week at Walgreens. I took their personalities, a bit of mine and molded this beautiful individual that I hope can be a sort of inspiration to some that you can be anything you want to be, no matter the situation/circumstance. She is also the victim of a bizarre type of relationship in the future that I know exists today. Women together with men(and vice' versa) that think they can 'change' or mold their women into what they deem 'the perfect woman,' when what we should all know from this story and life in general is you usually can't change anyone to what you want them to be. They have to be themselves. If what you want out of a relationship is to 'change' that person you're with, what's the point of the relationship? Why would you be with someone if you want to change them? Weren't their initial personality traits along with a cute face what had attracted you to that individual in the first place? Something to think about. And remember the 'wise words' of our future med student;

"No one always and never does something."

I believe 'fanfiction' is what you make of it, whether it is a fantasy of sorts, being personal or just general, living vicariously through other individuals or making the romance 'fanfic' novel of a lifetime. It's 'fixing' a story that you believe needs to be repaired, so to speak. A better conclusion than the one at the time. Or making the plot a bit more imaginative(as I've done, but the entire story revolves around how Tavington relates to a woman not of his time, or caliber in more ways than one, but they find out that opposites can attract and watch their relationship blossom into something beautiful and fulfilling.) Fan fiction is also just making it fun for yourself as well as your readers. As often as free time allowed, I had done some research on medical techniques, expressions(sayings, etc) and dress codes of the 18^th century. Being a full time mother that also works part time, I was unable to get more information, so basically just 'winged it,' or 'flew by the seat of my pants,' so to speak. Along with the wonderful, enthusiastic barrage of emails I've received regarding the story, I have taken into consideration the suggestions of my wonderful readers regarding Tavington's status in the 18^th century. So, not only am I just about finished with a partially revamped, "Spiritual Journey in Autumn," I shall be making a third and final installment of the adventures with Savannah and her time travels with Colonel Tavington. I find that by 'redoing' my ending from the previous part(Spiritual), I feel that a third installment is necessary.

You will notice that some items are out of a time frame/context/reality such as the mentioning of films(like Pleasantville), some songs that are on the radio well after the time of 1999, and the involving of several historical figures, but this is a fictional tale; most of us know that the Dragoon uniforms in the movie are inaccurate, Lord Cornwallis did not stay at Middleton Place(or if he did, the travel brochures I've received on South Carolina did not mention that he stayed there). I also am aware of historical/Revolutionary War reenactments that occur down in SC, but their occurrences are varied, depending on funding and ability to stake claim to certain areas. So for your information, this is not a history lesson nor an opinion on history. It is meant to be enjoyed as a fictional 'story' with some historical content, twisted a bit to accommodate the fictional account of this story. Thank you for letting me in on the fun and for taking the time to visit this wonderful site! I hope you all enjoy the REDUX version of:

A MIDSUMMER'S MIRACLE

SAVANNAH Fabré IS LEADING A DOUBLE LIFE.

SHE HAS A FIANCÉ IN ONE CENTURY, AND A LOVER IN ANOTHER.

It's 1999 and Savannah Fabré, a former RN, present history buff and future doctor is to attend medical school in the autumn at Stanford University in California, but not without spending one last week with her attorney fiancé-when she has the encounter of a lifetime. While on vacation in South Carolina, she has mysteriously disappeared from the "Land of the Free," the "Home of the Brave" and is transported to a war torn and young "America" in the year of our Lord...1780.

Her destiny is soon inextricably intertwined with the Martin family and the ferocious Green Dragoons(both past and future). With two new families she can call her own, she is torn between love and the comforts of the future. For here, a young, dashing and handsome colonel of the Green Dragoons battles a much younger and equally handsome colonist soldier and the ghost of her former fiancé from the future for her heart with passion so fierce, making Savannah a woman torn between fidelity and desire, family and friend...and between vastly different people in two irreconcilable lives.

"Don't tell me you've changed your mind?"

Savannah was furious with her fiancé Dale. She suddenly stopped unpacking her suitcase with the Revolutionary war dress she made last year and flipped her long red hair over her shoulder in defiance.

"Well," he replied dryly, pretending to be preoccupied with his clothes. "I thought we could go to the beach first. I'm taking you to that old plantation, what's it called?"

"Middleton Place, Dale. I've told you a billion times. Y'know," she said, pointing a French manicured nail at him. "For someone that was raised in South Carolina, you really don't give a crap about your states' history, much less the history of your country. I think that's really sad."

He groaned, "I really don't feel like doing a Revolutionary War reenactment thing. Its hokey, and it's too hot. I don't feel like wearing that wool suit. Besides," he continued as he scrunched up his face disapprovingly. "It's a Redcoat uniform. My family will disown me if I dressed in that thing."

She gave him a sarcastic grin, flashing perfect teeth. "Darlin', would you like some cheese with that whine, 'eh?" she said mockingly, using his word for her. He gave her a rolling of his eyes and shook his head at her with a small smirk.

He asked, "I thought you made the costumes yourself?"

She shook her head and said, "I needed some help. I couldn't do it by myself, all that dress and Red Coat uniform, which, by the way if I may mention, you've got the wars mixed up, again, Dale!" She held up his coat and pointed to the details on it. "This here is a bona fide replica of a Red Coat uniform, darlin'," she informed him sarcastically. She went on with feigned drama, "painstakingly hand crafted according to the approved pattern for reenactments by two of the best seamstresses in the entire city of Chicago. Your family would crap a brick if they saw you in a Union uniform from the Civil War, rebel rouser." She gave him a smirk, pulled out the tricorn hat from his luggage, placed it gently on his head and continued. "Furthermore, I spent forever on this hat, dude." She stepped back as she looked over her handiwork and nodded in appreciation. Dale looked up toward his forehead at the point that was right in front of him which made his eyes cross comically. They both snickered and she added sassily, "besides, I don't think they'd know the difference between a Redcoat and a Confederate uniform if it fell on them or bit them in the ass!"

He gave a chuckle, then glared at her. "Such a mouth! You kiss your man with that nasty mouth?" he asked, still shocked at her audacity and bad language.

"I won't kiss him ever if he doesn't go with me Sunday," she said, smiling back at him as he passed by her giving her a small hug from behind. "I also know its race day," she started. "So in advance, I appreciate your efforts." She went up to him, tip-toed to reach his face and gave him a quick peck on his warm, soft lips.

Dale Gordon and Savannah Fabré were on vacation for their last week together before she went to med school at Stanford University. He was to meet her in California as soon as he passed the Bar Exam in Chicago, which he was taking that fall. She wanted to do something romantic and fun and forget about the hell she went through finishing her clinicals and finally getting accepted into med school, which is why she picked South Carolina's Fort Sullivan 'Carolina Days' celebration and the beautiful B&B she carefully picked off of the Internet . She thought a few of days with sun, fun, and history would make a perfect trip. Well, perfect for her.

She paused from unpacking and suddenly blurted, "you know, we always do things that you like to do, like the goofy stock car races, and football games! You never want to go to a hockey game, or .."

Dale interrupted before she could spew all the things that she enjoys but he unfortunately doesn't.

"I liked the hockey game," he said unconvincingly, pointing his shorts from his suitcase at her. "Baseball too. You know I'm a Braves fan."

She let out an exaggerated groan along with a signature rolling of her eyes as he continued. "All right, you die hard White Sox fan. I thought you were angry with the Sox for getting rid of Carlton Fisk."

She shrugged at him as he went on in his defense,

"I took you to the World Series in New York last year. How soon we forget, hmm?" he drawled in that Rhett Butler manner he always does when he tries to make a point. "I also took you to see the Dallas Stars when we went to Texas. It was...interesting. All that yelling by you and all that ice in the middle of Texas, who would have thought? And for your information, it is NASCAR racing, which is an actual sport. An extreme sport, if you will. I really hate it when you Yankees call it a 'red neck' sport, like the WWF..."

She interrupted sassily; "I am not a Yankee, Dale. I am Canadian. Besides, you almost forgot monster truck races, rat hunting, mud fights, flatulent contests...ow! Hey you! That hurt!" He had playfully hit her head with his shorts.

"Just because your name sake won the Daytona 400 this year, doesn't mean that you need to participate in all NASCAR activities and sport the same facial hair as the man in black," she continued with a tone in her voice that dripped heavily with sarcasm. "I remember a time when you were baby faced and trying to grow the mustache to see how it would look. Lo and behold, you are still sporting the look." She was so outspoken he thought to himself. She was always saying what was on the tip of her brain.

"Hey! Dale Earnhardt is the greatest driver of all time! I've always liked him," Dale said defiantly, ignoring her facial hair comment.

She said, "mm hm," with disinterest as he continued,

"Just because we have the same first, or should I say, name 'Dale' doesn't mean anything. It's merely a coincidence!" he said. "Besides, you are a Yankee. You were raised in the north."

He cast a sarcastic smile at her and she threw a pair of socks at him. He ducked and ran off laughing. He loved her so much despite she was such a smart aleck and sometimes not quite ladylike.

He had the privilege of meeting her at Loyola University where she was a nurse at the hospital who just started graduate school and he was in law school. He was first attracted to her when they were in the admissions office where she was tactfully telling off a clerk that mixed up her records, flipping her flowing red hair over her shoulders in defiance and speaking in with deep sexy voice that made the butterflies in his stomach flutter with a little orgasmic feel to it. It was love at first site as far as he was concerned, even though she gave him a peculiar look with a cocked eyebrow asking, "what the hell are YOU staring at, 'eh?" which made him blush, then laugh out loud as he introduced himself. Like many other relationships that he had, he would take this one on with caution since he was from a very old and esteemed family of attorneys in South Carolina and was forewarned by his overprotective mother, who made it a point to inform him that if women were to find out what he was really worth, they would be after that rather than his wonderful personality and good looks. It wasn't until Dale took his relationship with Savannah a step from just dating to a more serious commitment that he finally relented to, thus informing her of his 'net worth.' It didn't matter to Savannah, whose family provided well enough for her. Her aunt was on staff at Northwestern Hospital's cardiology department in Chicago, who took very good care of her. But she still had to work to achieve her goals. She did not expect it to be handed to her on a silver platter. Her aunt made sure she taught her young niece the value of everything, including hard work and perseverance.

So he pursued her and was shocked when she told him how old she was, which he thought was twenty at the time.

"But you were getting your undergrad schedule redone in the office," he had said. She explained that when he first met her, she was trying to straighten out her schedule which was made up of classes for under grads, not those starting in graduate programs. He stared in disbelief as he took in that she's a graduate student. She explained the reasons why people think she looks so young. How she made it a point to exercise regularly along with her martial arts classes, ate healthily with an occasional cheat of junk food, took her vitamins and drank about a gallon of water every day. He would tease her about the water thing constantly.

"You are going to grow gills, girl!" he would joke to her every time she would chug an entire 32 ounce bottle of Evian at once, adding an exaggerated 'aahh!'

After being study mates and good friends for part of their first semester, he finally had the nerve to ask her out on a 'real date' before Halloween of 1997. They spent plenty of time together with late night studies at the Harold Washington Library and at the local Starbucks, sharing intimate stories of each others family problems as well as their alter-interests, they quickly gravitated to each other and made a wonderful couple. She loved the Beatles, history, ice hockey and baseball, classic rock and classical music and was just getting into country music, thanks to Dale.

He, on the other hand, loved country music, the law, sports(especially NASCAR racing) and the beach. Dale's short stylish dusty blond hair with its sun kissed streaks at the temples, almond-shaped hazel eyes, dark tan and muscular build but slightly smaller frame could still make a Greek Adonis run away with shame. But he really had to get rid of the 'push broom' mustache, as far as Savannah was concerned which gave him a cute Jeff Foxworthy look. When he would kiss her, she would always touch it since it made her face itch. He presumed she liked it, so he kept it.

"To hang onto my redneck roots' darlin'," he would remark with a chuckle.

Savannah was in a category all by herself with her bright, audacious personality, her amazing work ethic, and her wonderful curvaceous body that made him ache for her whenever they were apart. He never felt like this about anyone in his entire life, so before he could lose her and after only five months of dating, he proposed to her...and of course she accepted, stating that this would prevent her from becoming an old maid.

"You are going to be a doctor, Lady Savannah," he stated. "You'll never be an old maid. You'll be the catch of the century."

He thought her sense of humor with its delicious touch of sarcasm and a sprinkle of sauciness was another one of her best assets and led him to believe that perhaps she should change professions and try law. She shook her head, saying she loves helping people in the medical field and not in the court room.

Despite she was a "Yankee" much to his mothers' disapproval, she wasn't really one at heart. He couldn't understand why his mother had such a problem with her, calling her the "northern Yankee witch" that "bewitched" her son. Savannah too couldn't understand why Mrs. Gordon had such a problem with her, either treating her badly or ignoring her altogether as well as talking about her when she was within earshot as she referred to her son's "girlfriend," exaggerating in a disgusted tone as a "witch." Savannah thought that Mrs. Gordon probably wanted to say "bitch" so badly her so-called "southern lady-politeness" prevented her from doing so.

Savannah was born in Quebec, Canada, so he also teased her about that, calling her "Canuck," which she explained was a Canadian bastard, "which, I'm not!" Savannah was raised in Chicago but her parents were the products of Texas upbringing and trained as physicians. They moved to Canada to avoid the Vietnam war draft but decided to call the "Great White North" home. They remained there until her parents died in a car accident when she was only five years old. Her Aunt Rose Fabré, a doctor in Chicago took care of her until her own passing two years ago when Savannah finished nursing school. Her fascinating background just made him more fond of her and interested in what other skeletons she may have laying around in her closet next to her fondness of rock music, her mastery in martial arts(which also frightened him a bit), her love of hockey and baseball(she a Chicago White Sox fan, he an Atlanta Braves fan which would be a topic of several of their disagreements) which he thought was odd for a woman, and history, especially the American revolution and their war reenactments. She had attended quite a few of them as a spectator, but would participate for the first time now.

He also loved her rich auburn hair with its blond streaks from riding on her bike by Lake Michigan, which she did everyday religiously. It reminded him of a late summer sunset racing across the sky with all its rich hues of red, brown and sienna.

He had seen that sunset at the Daytona 500 after his favorite driver Dale Earnhardt won for the first time. His family connections with law allowed the young couple to take pictures with Earnhardt after the race, which moved his heart so as he looked over to a beautiful and smiling Savannah prompting him to decide that he must make a commitment, right now. His two favorite things in the world together in February of 1998 brought tears to his eyes and his heart skipping beats, making him realize his love for her, so he proposed to her on her birthday in March. Her eyes were her best physical feature as far as he was concerned, which glistened with tears of joy as she accepted his proposal and the nice sized two caret diamond ring set in platinum, watching him slide it onto her left forth finger.

"Ready to go to dinner, darlin'?" he asked with a sigh of relief at her answer.

She gave him a sly glance and asked, "why don't we order in?" and grabbed him to her, leading him to her bedroom, giving him herself, entirely for the very first time that night.

Her best feature, her round, deep and dark emerald green eyes with little brown specks that were framed by long brown lashes brightened her face as well as the life of almost anyone that met her. Those 'doe' eyes danced with life and love of life. Along with a body for sin and other fun, she had the warmest personality and heart as far as Dale was concerned. Her alabaster white skin gave her a delicate look, like a porcelain doll but she proved otherwise. She was tough and strong with her years of training in karate, and she wanted to be a doctor, tired of the slavery of nursing.

She had a minor in American history and a newfound interest in the Revolutionary War. She could go on for hours on how the forefathers and founders of America fought long and hard bloody battles just to be able to maintain freedom. The two of them would go on for hours on the Constitution and its rights for all Americans with him making a point of how the law is affected by it. She felt a particular sentiment for the British which made him wonder. Perhaps its her passion for the Beatles he would think to himself, which he thought was insane, especially since he did not like their music at all. When he would mention that she would shake her head and explain that it's not because of her Beatles obsession, but was because the British were the "underdog" so to speak.

She was fascinated with living historians and reenactments, but had no idea how to get involved or that any were in the state of Illinois. One of her friends from her history class introduced her to the world of living historians, as he was one. Jason Gibson, a very handsome guy with long, perfect brown hair, cute dimples and deep, dark blue eyes was one of the Loyola students on the chair and an officer of a British unit with one of the Illinois reenactments. He also didn't hide his affection for her, which she did notice immediately but just figured he'd get over it and they would remain friends.

He informed her of a battle in Vincennes, Indiana and the fact that Colonel George Rogers Clark led his men across southern Illinois to regain Fort Sackville on February 24, 1779, where British Lieutenant-Governor Henry Hamilton surrendered. This was exciting to Savannah since she never realized that a Revolutionary War battle was so close to home.

"I don't mean to sound ignorant," she replied, a bit embarrassed. "When I hear about the Revolutionary War, I think of the thirteen colonies, and a bit going down in Canada."

"Yeah," Jason replied with excitement as he continued. "Not many people realize that, which is a shame. It was a very important battle, since Fort Sackville was extremely important to the British. It helped them control the Ohio Valley. And no," he added with a smile that made her blush. "You are not ignorant, Savannah. Just misinformed like most Americans."

Noting her interest in the Revolutionary War, he invited her in the autumn of 1997 to Cantigny Memorial Park to check out how they do things on the battle field. At first she thought this was an attempt to put the moves on her, but she finally relented, bringing a girl friend with her and they had a great time, thus thinking otherwise. Jason was incredibly busy with his unit and instructing any new participants he came across, so he basically had no time to charm her. She had taken plenty of pictures and was enamored with the whole thing. She was hooked! She watched several other 'battles' including the one in Vincennes and a few in Wisconsin and finally gave in to Jason's persistence on participating, which is what she was doing now. A month before coming to South Carolina, she met Jason at Starbucks. Over latte's, they chatted about how she should act and what was expected of her. He also brought all the forms she needed to fill out, and gave her various papers with information on the required attire, accessories and attitude.

"So, you're going to fax my forms in, are ya?" she said with a giggle.

He smirked as he signed a couple of the forms and said, "well, we can't be that authentic. We have to get this to the unit before we go to Charleston."

She asked, "so, what do I have to wear again? Does it have to be totally authentic?"

He glanced up from the papers, took a long sip from his coffee drink and nodded, saying, "well, since you're too pretty to make plain, I suggest you wear the women's riding habit of that time."

She raised an eyebrow and asked, "pretty? Such a charmer, aren't ya? Hey, why would I wear a riding habit?"

"It's a bit more elaborate," he explained. "And an officer's wife would dress more elaborately than the common colonial girl during that time."

She mouthed "oh" and took a drink from her cup, paused a moment as she was about to ask him a question. Not skipping a beat, he answered anxiously, "you can be my wife."

Uh oh, she thought. Not again.

This was giving her an odd feeling since she never felt that way about him. Noticing her discomfort and a strange expression with a cocked eyebrow, he quickly explained, "uh, so you and Leslie can make a great dress. I know she'll do it, since she's made a few dresses for the other 'mollies' in my unit. She has authentic patterns of the time."

"Mollies? What's a molly?" she asked curiously.

Jason smiled a deep dimpled grin and said, "you know who Molly Pitcher was, right? Or, should I say, Mary Hays McCauly?" She nodded in reply as his blue eyes widened with interest as he talked about his favorite pastime, early American history.

"Mollies are the gals that help out the soldiers, either in the hospital or on the field."

"Ah," she said, pouring over the papers he handed to her to reexamine and taking a long sip from her almond breve latte'. "So if I'm going to portray an officer's wife," she stated, adding an exaggerated emphasis on 'wife,' causing Jason to blush slightly. "I have to follow some sort of protocol, no?"

"Well," he started and took another drink from his coffee. "Don't worry about what you have to do. You weren't able to attend the School for the Reenactor, which they have every year. We'll go next year. Whoever is in charge of the mollies in Charleston will tell you what and how to act." With an exaggerated "ah" after he finished his drink, he added, "plus, I'll be there to help you." He put his cup down, smiled at her and raised his eyebrows up and down comically, causing her to laugh out loud.

"Jason," she started seriously, clearing her throat and leaning in toward him. He stopped raising his eyebrows and leaned in toward her, still smiling. "This is in no way a date, is it?"

He leaned back and said, "oh no. Of course not! My intentions are strictly platonic. You informed me of your engagement to Dale, which I think is a huge mistake, but who am I to say anything, right? Besides," He broke off and took her left hand gently into his and pulled softly at her forth finger. "Who the hell can miss this gargantuan ring, big enough to choke an elephant?"

She gave his fingers a slight pinch, let him go and let out a deep sigh, shaking her head in amusement. He returned her actions with a huge grin, widened eyes and said, "I still think you should wait a bit, play the field."

"Play the field?" she interrupted with a snicker. "With who? You, perhaps?"

He raised his eyebrows up and down again, causing her to shake her head and roll her eyes. She gave him a sideways glance that had a flicker of sarcasm and handed him her empty cup.

"You're something else," she started. "Go get me another grande' almond breve latte', please, and maybe I'll believe your so-called platonic intentions."

"So," Dale started again, finishing his unpacking and setting his Louis Vuitton suitcase into the closet. "We're gonna spend time in this beautiful town and do a war reenactment?"

"It's Carolina Day weekend, butt head!" Savannah replied. "You know how much this means to me and my studies. I have been wanting to get as much information about the Fort Sullivan battle and Middleton Place. This is like a dream come true. I am actually going to walk the halls that Lord Cornwallis walked around in along with his officers." She put her hands on her hips and said, "remember when we went to the Daytona 400? I made your dream come true with that trip and those awesome tickets I got you, didn't I?"

Dale was not going to win this battle no matter how much he argued with her. Damn her, she was so headstrong!

"You know, Dale," she continued. "You should know better than to make me mad, I may flip you or something," casting a suspicious smile at his direction.

"Alright," he said, defeated by his gorgeous fiancé. "Just one battle. I don't want to battle you anymore about it." He smiled at her eagerly, "How about we just dress up and walk around like when you dragged me to that renaissance fair last year? That I can deal with but I don't think I can wear that wool getup and pretend to fight in this June heat. Especially when there are waves to be caught and suntanning that needs to be seriously done. And by the way.." he drawled caustically. "It's the Daytona 500. They drive 500 laps around the track, not 400."

His twinkling hazel eyes looked down at her with that pompous yet amusing gleam that she always got when she deliberately made a dumb remark about football("how many home runs wins the game?") and of his favorite sport, stock car racing ("how come they drive in a circle to the left and why don't the car doors open? If this was an English sport, would they drive to the right? Why do they have headlights on the cars if they don't work?").

She looked up into those warm hazel eyes that would send yummy shivers up and down your spine, as it did now, causing her to shake it off. She removed his tricorn had and ran her fingers through his hair, which was streaking blond from his own exploits on the Carolina dunes from last week when he visited his family. He was such a beach bum, being raised on Myrtle Beach with quite an affluent family. They would throw hurricane parties if a hurricane was looming while most people fled for their lives.

She couldn't help running her fingers through his locks, feeling him relax and almost purr and replied, "thank you honey for that most useful info on stockcar racing. And by the way, you don't surf!"

###

After they unpacked they got ready for dinner. It was a long ride from Chicago so they just wanted dinner and a good nights sleep. They went to the closest restaurant and dragged a ton of tour brochures with them from the front desk to find out what the festivities had in store for them. She commented over her Bud Lite, "I can't believe that I cannot get a Guinness south of the Mason Dixon Line, ooh! Check this out!" She showed the brochure to Dale. "Here's a Midsummers Festival," Savannah said. "This looks like a lot of fun! They hang out at the beach all day and celebrate the first day of summer. They grill all day, dance to a DJ, surf..for those that do surf..." she smirked at him and he smiled back. "This looks like a good time..lets do this tomorrow. That way you'll get the beach thing out of your system long enough for us to hit the historic sites."

Dale replied over his crab dinner, "do you think that they'll need a virgin to sacrifice for the end of spring?"

Savannah shot him a puzzled look. "I'm not a virgin, dork," she said.

"You're kidding? I thought for sure you were," he said sarcastically.

"Very funny Mr. Man," she said, giving him a playful kick under the table. "I had to give it up to my future husband so I can make sure I made the right decision. Couldn't wed an inadequate man now, could I?"

He shot her one of his raised eyebrow looks as she continued, ignoring his reaction to her comment.

"So after tomorrow we check out historic Charleston, check out the Monday tours of Middleton Place and then go do the Carolina Day thing with the reenactment deal, right? I don't want to bore you with too much history, especially since it has so much to do with your country's birth."

"Darlin'," Dale said, taking his beer for another drink. "It's not that it bores me. Its just that you are so obsessed with it. I just think you were born in that time or that you are back here from a past life thing from back then, but on the British side. I think its great you have an escape or a hobby so to speak, but don't you think that this is going to interfere with your studies in California?"

"Well," she started as she looked up from the brochures. "I'm not obsessed with it. I love this stuff. You know, you pick at me about my so-called Beatles obsession as well. That's probably why I'm so fascinated with anything and everything British. And when I start med school, I won't have the time or energy to do any of this, so let me get as much of it out of my system. Hmm," she added thoughtfully. "I noticed you mentioned how busy I'd be with school work and not wedding plans." He looked up from his beer as she continued glibly. "Besides, the only time we'll be coming out here is for the holidays with my future 'outlaws.'"

"Your what?" he asked suddenly with a stern look. He set his beer down with a loud clunk and widened his eyes at her. "What did you say?"

"My outlaws," she said quietly.

Uh oh, she thought to herself. She noticed that she hit a nerve because Dale looked like he was getting upset so she reminded him with exasperation. "Oh yeah, like your mother likes me so much. As if! The way she treats me, like I'm such a nuisance, and the fact that she calls me the 'northern witch' behind my back according to Chuck and his lovely perfect southern wife from North Carolina. You think that doesn't hurt my feelings? Besides," she said, breaking off and shot him a concerned look. "She's probably happy that we haven't set a date for our wedding yet. Hoping we never set one, I bet. You know, we really should discuss that when we get home. Don't you think?"

He just shook his head and sighed, replying, "yes, darlin'. We shall discuss the wedding date when we get home, I promise."

This is going to be an interesting wedding, he thought. Since both her parents had passed away when she was five and her aunt from Chicago died just two years ago, she was all that was left of her family, especially since her father, the war protesting hippy "draft-dodger" was such a disgrace to the rest of the family. She was pretty much on her own. They wanted nothing to do with her because of the mistakes that her parents made, so their wedding will be mainly his family with the few loved friends back in Chicago that Savannah had and considered family.

She picked at the remains of her crab dinner and asked, "did you rent the bikes?"

"Yes darlin' I did," he replied with aggravation after finishing his Bud Lite. "They'll leave them at the front desk so whenever we want them we can just pick them up. Do you want to go back to the room?"

"Yes," she said, trying to stifle a yawn without success and stretched seductively, getting Dale a bit excited. He stared at his beautiful fiancé, sitting there in her tight French t-shirt that hugged her curves deliciously. She looked back at him with a tired look in her gorgeous green eyes, rubbing them gently. I hope she's not too tired, he thought hopefully to himself. "I need to see if Jason called. He said he would meet us either at the reenactment or at the hotel. I also need to rack out. I am dog tired from that long road trip. My butt hurts from sitting for so long," she said, groaning as she shifted uncomfortably in the restaurant booth and stretched her hands over her head.

"Oh? I think I have a cure for that," he said smiling with a sultry voice and hailed the waiter for their check.

###

Savannah was resting on Dale's chest, feeling him breathe and catching his scent of Polo and slight sweat, which was actually pleasant. Quite manly, she thought, murmuring. Typical lawyer, wearing Polo. No chest hairs on this mans' chest, she thought. Very smooth, as she ran her hand over his chest, tickling his nipples until they came to a peak. He let out a little moan of satisfaction and pulled her close to him. After laying together for a moment, she wriggled out of his hold, pulled the quilt around her naked body and walked to the window of the room and just gazed out. She shuddered and went up to the air conditioner and turned it down one notch and went back to the window. No stars, she thought as she looked up into the sky. God I hope it doesn't rain. Its been so humid here and its not even summer yet. It will be tomorrow, and we'll be on a beach all day. I swear, that man and his beach. Ugh...sand and sunburn. I need to buy some extra sun screen.

She sighed loudly as she continued to look outside and thought, "why can't I sleep?" She let out a sigh and thought about her friend from Chicago, who didn't call as he had promised. I will strangle Jason if he blows me off, she said to herself. He promised he would do this with me, since he's the one that got me into this. She strained her neck, taking a hard look outside and noticed the fog was rolling in swirls off the Atlantic to the shore. Almost like a sea monster from an old fable. She sighed again, looked at the clock and noticed it was quite late. Uh oh...I have five hours to snooze before my bike ride, she thought. I better get some sleep. She made her way back to the bed and snuggled her warm naked body next to Dale, spooning in front of him.

That morning around five AM Savannah got up. She pulled her hair into the number three black, red and white scrunchie Dale bought her to show his support of his favorite NASCAR driver, stretched luxuriously, slid on her purple spandex body suit, her anklet socks and gymshoes and went to wake Dale.

She was gently shaking him when he finally stirred, saying in a sleepy southern twang, "nooo, girl its too early. Let me snooze a few more hours."

"Dale," she said. "You know I need my bike ride. I'm not doing it alone and there is no way I'm going to be able to do it later since we're going to be on the beach all day. Get up honey, its only for about half an hour. It'll do you some good," she cooed. "Besides," she drawled in her best southern accent. "I know y'all don't wanna to be married to a sagging assed Yankee, now, do ya?"

"Darlin'," he argued with a murmur. "Its still nighttime. I don't even hear the birds chirping. Let me sleep or just go for it yourself. You'll be safe. We're in Charleston. It isn't like Chicago. Its perfectly safe to go out."

"Fine," she said. "I'll go myself but if anything happens to me like I get mugged or fall into the ocean, you'll hear my screams and it'll be too late!"

Savannah grabbed her headset and stormed out of the room, slamming the door. She made her way to the lobby and realized as she grabbed the bike next to the front desk that she probably woke everyone up in the B&B after her little temper tantrum. Ah, crap. I can be such a drama queen. Oh well, she thought. He shouldn't be so aggravating. If anyone asks, I'll just blame him, she thought with a giggle.

As she took the bike outside, the humidity burst in her face with a gust of thick, hot, moist air, making her say "woo," outloud.

It was still dark outside, but she noticed the fog which was looming over the ocean in a swirl of smoke, giving such an eerie feeling. She popped the headphones onto her head struggling with radio knob until she found a station that played something she could recognize. Oh crap, she thought, just country? Jeesie creesie, not even classical music. No decent beer and no classic rock south of the Mason Dixon line, I swear to God. She finally found something recognizable and set the dial to the "Talk About Me" song by Toby Keith, which reminded her of Dale, making her snicker outloud. He was always talking about himself and what he likes a good deal of the time, not letting others get a word in edge-wise, so she teased him saying that this song is his anthem. He was incredibly insulted when I told him how that song reminds me of him, she told herself, chuckling openly and not caring if anyone heard her. "I'm just kidding, for God's sake," she would tell him. "I swear, sometimes I think that you crapped out your sense of humor."

She started peddling and noticed she wasn't the only one on the bike/jog path. There were three people jogging towards her, who nodded at her and she back to them as they passed each other. She then peddled harder and switched it to a low gear to get her workout.

She rode looking straight ahead of her, pausing to glance around to make sure no one was coming near her. Thank God the fog is over the ocean and not on the path, she thought. She continued to pump the pedals with anger over the last encounter she had with Dale. She was fuming. How can he be like that? I can't believe he would leave me alone out here. Ahhh...she thought to herself. Feel the burn, baby, as the muscles on her legs started to get that familiar burn that reassures her she's getting in a good workout. No pain, no gain she always said.

She passed the ferry station which was getting ready for their AM rush and passed another jogger who nodded at her and she to him. She was peddling to a familiar tune, feeling the throb of her muscles pulsate as she bobbed her head side to side in tune and sang along loudly to with the chorus, "baby likes to rock it like a boogie woogie choo-choo train," feeling giddy, a bit silly and laughing out loud, thinking if someone heard her "tone deaf" voice, they would run for their lives out of fright.

She had listened to quite a few songs and was breaking a good sweat when she realized she must have been riding for some time since she hasn't passed anyone else jogging so she slowed her pace and looked around. There was an ominous feeling around her, as if someone was watching her. She literally felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up which made her stop her bike abruptly, wiping the streaming droplets of sweat off of her temples and panting hard. As she straddled the bike between her legs, she turned down a whiney country tune and looked around cautiously, keeping a defensive guard from her upbringing in the big city and her many years of marital arts training.

The fog still lingered over the ocean but started to creep over toward her as the imposing sunrise was just starting to peek across the sky, emitting a purple pink hue across the clouds. She shivered and thought thank God for the sun. This will burn the fog up in no time. She let out another shiver as she noticed someone in the distance coming towards her. Ah, another jogger, its about time... and thank God she thought. She was about to remount the bike when she noticed that the figure seemed to move slowly. Probably one of those speed walkers, she deducted. She noticed the figure was approaching her and the fog from the Atlantic seemed to envelope it. For some reason, she felt compelled to watch the figure as it moved closer and toward her, with her still straddling her bike. She focused her eyes, straining out the sleepiness and noticed that the figure was a man. Quite a tall man, compared to Dale. Dale was only 5"6' but compared to her 5"2' frame, everyone, including him seemed to loom over her unless she wore heels. This guy looked about six feet tall and was wearing a dark outfit, with pants. They don't look baggy like sweats she thought, and why would anyone wear sweats in this imposing heat and humidity.

As the man came closer to her she felt herself catch her breath for a moment and noticed something even odder about the figure; this man was wearing a British Red Coat uniform which was noticeably red due to the reflection from the sunrise.

"What a nut!" she said to herself with a nervous laugh. "Who the hell would wear their reenactment gear to jog in? They're worse than I am!"

As she continued to focus on the figure, and from her few years of studies of the American Revolution, she noticed that it was a Dragoon uniform with its medals and the fuzzy black hat he carried in the crook of his left arm. Ooh, I wonder if this nut's wearing a Green Dragoon uniform, she thought. She couldn't tell, since it was still a little too dark to tell what color was lining the coat. Just the markings and the fuzzy hat were recognizable.

He continued his walk until they were a foot from each other and he stopped, gazing at her with a small smile. Astonished, she stared up into his face, which took her breath away. He is beautiful, she thought to herself. He had chiseled features. His chin had a small cleft in it and there was a crease just between his eyes as he looked at her with concern. He was also quite muscular and had a warm look in his eyes that blended with the gaze of concern, or sadness, she wondered. His eyes, which were visible as the imposing sunrise continued to splash color and light onto them, reflecting orange light onto her spandex getup, his uniform and his eyes. They looked blue, she deducted and yes, he is a Green Dragoon. But why does he look so sad, she continued to think. She felt a thumping in her chest that made it feel like her heart was about to leap out of her rib cage. She put her hand over her chest as if that would prevent her heart from pounding so hard. She noticed that he had all of the necessary accessories; a gun, dagger in his boot, a sword, and black gloves on his hands. His long brown hair was set up in a traditional queue of the time.

She slid her headphones off her ears and around her neck as she shook her head in confusion and opened her mouth to ask him why the hell was he wearing his reenactment gear to jog in when his blue eyes searched her longingly, extending his right hand out to her. He didn't take his eyes off her and smiled at her lovingly, whispering,

"I need you...come back to me."

She felt a compulsion to reach back to him but instead replied shakily, "I'm sorry, what did you say? Come back? Come back to what?"

At that moment as she was about to extend her hand out to him, she heard someone shouting her name behind her, which made her turn back quickly and scrunch up her face in wonder, searching for who was shouting at her. She casually turned back to the Dragoon but he was gone! Disappeared!

"What the crap..." she started in shock.

The shouting continued. "Savannah!"

It was Dale shouting at her dressed in his ash gray Loyola Law School t-shirt and matching shorts as he peddled his bike as fast as his legs would take him.

"Savannah! Honey! I am so sorry darlin', oh man. I feel like crap!" he said apologetically. "I can't believe I just let you go out by yourself!"

When he reached her he screeched his bike to a halt right next to her and hugged her hard while he still straddled his bike.

"I am so sorry baby," he said in her neck. "I was such a creep. Do you forgive me?"

He hugged her for a moment when he suddenly noticed she wasn't responding. He pulled away from her and looked deep into her eyes.

"What? What's wrong? Are you angry at me?" he asked, with a look of disappointment and bewilderment. Despite he was almost four inches taller than her, it was easy for him to see the look that was in her eyes, and he did not like what he saw. As if she had seen a ghost.

Savannah looked in front of her where the Green Dragoon stood and had whispered to her. Where the hell did he go? She was racking her brain.

"Where the hell did who go, honey?" Dale asked.

She looked surprised at Dale. "Did I say that outloud? Did you see someone here just a few seconds ago Dale?" she asked, shaking her head.

Dale gave her a confused look, scratching his bed head and asked, "someone was just here? Where? When? How?"

"Stop it Dale," she said with exasperation. "You sound like John Travolta from Welcome Back Kotter! Just now, a tall guy was here and he was dressed in full Dragoon gear, as if he was going to a reenactment."

Dale was more puzzled. "Dragoon gear? What's that?" he asked.

Savannah was beginning to panic and feel light headed, shaking her head violently and almost screaming, "the guy that was just here in full Green Dragoon uniform! He was just here! Don't stand there and tell me you didn't see him? I did not imagine that I know he was just here!"

Dale, still bewildered at her babbling, asked, "what did he look like darlin'? What side did the Dragoons fight on?"

Dale paused a moment and looked at her perplexed face as he asked with concern, "a guy was dressed in Revolutionary War gear? What the hell is he doing jogging dressed like that?" Dale was now a little bit more concerned especially since it was him that let her go out on her own and now she was probably hallucinating, or some crazy guy tried to hit on her. He didn't think that someone was going to hurt her but he surely didn't want some goofy guy trying to make time with his woman. Especially dressed up in his reenactment uniform. He took her firmly into his arms, looked down hard at her and said with worry, "baby, I really need to know what's going on. You're scaring me. What guy? What did he look like? What's a Dragoon?" Dale's concern was growing by the second. He was now thinking that he should get her to the hotel and call his old doctor to see what's wrong with her.

Savannah's stomach felt queasy, her head was getting lighter as her eyes widened and she looked up at Dale pleadingly, softly saying, "the Dragoons fought for the British."

She put her hand on her stomach and whimpered, "I need to get back to the hotel Dale. Now please! I feel really weird."

###

She was laying in bed and stirred when she heard the Dr. talking to Dale. She rubbed the area on her chest that was still a bit sensitive from the cold stethoscope Dr. Martin used to listen to her heart and her breathing. She frowned as she rubbed her throbbing temples and strained to listen to the conversation in the other room.

"She's passed out before?" he asked Dale with concerned, who replied nodding,

"She has fainted before. She's so delicate, despite that she's actually a forth degree black belt in karate."

The Dr. nodded, widening his eyes as he continued to listen to Dale tell him about the delicate little northern flower that gets the "vapors" regularly.

"She's had an Echo Cardiogram and EKG's done to determine if it's a heart condition, but she passed with flying colors. Her blood pressure was also always normal, despite it seemed a bit low. She just faints sometimes. I believe she has syncope, but don't quote me on it. She's also been under a lot of stress lately, which is why we've taken this trip. She's going to school in California this fall, I'll be in Chicago taking the Bar exam before I meet her up there."

He was speaking almost in a whisper, so she couldn't hear him as well as she would have like to, but she heard the Dr. "Well," he said. "Her pressure is 100/78, which is normal. And yes, syncope is fainting spells in medical terms. Some people have it and are the healthiest people around." The Dr. continued to explain that its probably the humidity and being from up north, she just isn't used to it. "She should rest for the remainder of the day," he said. "Let her sleep as long as she wants. If she wants to go out, I suggest keeping her out of the sun and keep her well hydrated. So no beach today."

Dale snickered at the hydrated remark, shook his head and said, "well, that won't be a problem since she drinks water like its going out of style. I always tell her she's going to grow gills." Dr. Thomas Martin chuckled and gave Dale a small bottle of VALIUM to give her "just in case" she needed it.

Dr. Martin packed his blood pressure gauge and stethoscope back into his little black bag and said, "your mother informed me that you two would be in my neck of the woods. My family is having a party to celebrate the first day of summer. My wife hired tarot card readers and some pagan priests to perform the coming of summer. You know how Cathy likes that witch stuff. She's always going on long excursions with this Celtic group." He gave Dale a knowing wink, shook his head and continued. "Nothing gigantic, just family except for Gabriel since he's still in New York, and a few friends and colleagues. You and your beautiful fiancé are more than welcome to join us. That way we can also keep an eye on her, just to make sure she's alright."

Dale's face was washed over with concern and said nodding, "that's actually a great idea, Doc. We'll be there. What time should we come over?"

"About eight, Dale. Don't worry about Savannah. She's a young and strong girl. She just had a touch of the vapors. She'll be fine," said Dr. Martin reassuringly.

As the doctor left, closing the door quietly, Dale walked over to Savannah where she laid in a fetal position with the sheets tight around her. She was still dressed in her spandex outfit and had her socks on which she took off with aggravation and threw them onto the floor.

"Why did you tell the doctor we're going to his party? I don't want to go," Savannah whispered. "I just want to know what happened to me and if this was a ghost which I don't believe in." She sighed heavily and continued, "or a phantasm, or whatever the hell that was, what in the world was it doing coming up to me. Why is he bothering me?" she asked with contempt. She continued, "what do I have to do with his past?"

"Darlin'," Dale started, handing her a glass of water and one of the VALIUMS. "Maybe you should rest. Get some sleep and don't think about it. You've been under so much stress and getting up so early to beat your body with exercise, and the long trip, the humidity, you should sleep now. It's still early in the day and.."

Savannah took the water and glanced at the pill, sat up and interrupting Dale, "hey, you seem to forget we live in Chicago. It's always humid in the summer. Remember that one summer a few years ago when all those people died because of the intense heat and humidity? When the hell was that? Anyway, it's not the humidity. I don't know what that was about or what I saw. It's all very confusing to me and I, I .." Her voice trailed off.

Dale listened to her babbling and tried to console her, stroking her hair saying, "sleep darlin', and it'll all be better later. We'll have a nice lunch brought up. You can watch ER on tv if you want and we'll go down to ole' Doc Martin's for a nice party. Doesn't that sound nice? Or we can go to the movies. I think the Patriot is playing at the movie house, so if you want to see that again, we can go. It'll be cool inside, and they serve bottled water. Besides, I know how you like to critique that movie." He smiled down at her warmly as he gently pushed a loose strand of her auburn hair away from her cheek.

Savannah nodded, chugged her water after inadvertently putting the little white pill in her mouth, giving the glass back to him and curled back to sleep. Dale kissed her forehead, smelling her hair, murmuring, "you smell so good, baby. Sleep now, darlin', and I'll get you up in a few hours."

As he left her alone, she kept thinking of the man that appeared before her, and why did he say 'come back?' Come back to what? To him? Who was he? She pondered over those few words that the beautiful mysterious man said to her until she finally dozed off into a deep sleep.

###

Savannah woke up hours later to the sound of clinking plates and the smell of food. Dale had room service brought up. He ordered smoked ham to give her a little protein to feed her brain. Orange juice in case her blood sugar got weird, which was what he thought was wrong with her. She would almost always drink a glass at home after she worked out so she could keep her potassium level normal. Sometimes people get low blood sugar from too much exercise or stress and they just need to give their pancreas a little boost to produce more sugar, she would say. He also asked if someone would get a case of bottled water to the room, which they accommodated for happily.

There were fresh bread rolls, peach preserves, home fries, plenty of fruit, coffee and tea. It all emitted an aroma that literally hovered over her, making her stomach growl loudly.

She got up slowly making Dale notice as he got up from his chair and dropped the newspaper he was reading.

"Hi darlin'!" he said happily, reaching out for her. "How do you feel? Are you feeling better?" he asked with love and concern.

"I've felt better," she replied, walking up to the small end table that had a large water pitcher and a little white bottle of medication.

"Sheesh!" she said, turning the little bottle in her hands and placing it back on the table. "No wonder I slept like the dead. I thought you gave me a Tylenol."

She looked at the room service tray curiously. "What's this? Breakfast? Good. I am starvin' like Marvin," she said, mulling over the buffet that was brought up to their room.

Dale laughed out loud, passing her a bottle of water and motioning her to sit next to him. "The things you say, darlin', you do crack me up. It's only lunch. Come baby and have something to eat. You'll feel much better."

She actually did feel better after the hearty meal and watching a rerun of her favorite medical show, which she would criticize regularly, shouting, "false! They so don't do that in the ER," and making Dale crack up. This time, she just sat there and watched blankly as she nibbled on her biscuit.

After vegging in front of the television for a while, she thought that a nice long luxurious hot shower would be ideal. As she stood under the burning water, she briefly forgot about what happened to her. Her mind was just a blank as it was taking in the falling water that made her body tingle like therapeutic needles that were poking her everywhere and making her murmur in satisfaction. She finished her shower and got out, poured her body oil all over her wet naked body. She was patting her self dry when she noticed that Dale put her CD in. It was one of her favorite Beatles CD's.

What the hell, she thought. He hates the Beatles. She grabbed the dry, fluffy towel and wrapped it around her and ran out of the bathroom looking for him.

The room in the B&B was simple, with Queen Anne furniture and colonial antiques everywhere. The only evidence of the twentieth century was the electronic equipment required for the 20^th century, plus a VCR and a CD-DVD player. There were enormous bay windows that overlooked the Atlantic in every room, but Dale had drawn the curtains, so it was dark save the one light on in the bedroom. There was a sitting room with a luxurious sofa where she had rested briefly after her apparition until Dale carried her to the bed. She figured he was in there so she scurried in but noticed he wasn't there. As she went past the room service tray, she suddenly felt a presence, as if someone was sneaking up behind her. She had energy now and were about to flip Dale with one of her karate moves that she used on him on their first night out.

"Ah-ha! Thought you were gonna git me now, didn't ya lil' lady?" he joked, holding her wrists from behind her and looked down at the towel as it cascaded around her feet.

"Oops," he said jokingly. "Looks like you lost something, Miss."

He bent down to retrieve the towel and taking in the beautiful scenery as she snatched it from his hands, wrapping it back around her oil-covered body.

"You were lucky you caught me totally off guard." She adjusted her towel and gave him a contemptuous smirk. "You are something else, you nut ball!" she exclaimed. "Don't you ever think of anything else besides sex?"

He feigned concentration as he held her by the waist. "Uh, lets see, Savannah's bod, Winston cup points, Dale Earnhardt winning the next race, Savannah's bod, the beach, hamburgers, Savannah's bod...nah!"

"What's the big idea playing a CD you don't like?" she asked suspiciously. "Aren't you going to shrivel up and turn to dust?"

"Well," he started, resting his chin on her head. "I thought it would make you feel better if you listened to something you really like, even though I don't like it."

She gave him a defiant look as she sang along and bopped her head side to side to the beat of the song, "if there's anythin' that you want, if there's anythin' I can dooo, just call on me and I'll send it along with love, from me to you," which made him groan outloud and scrunch up his face in objection and agony

"Oh all right, brat!" she spat at him. "You've made your point. I thank you for the gesture, despite how painful it is to your ears!"

He smiled at her and commented with a shudder, "this is awful noise, Savannah. Bleah! I swear I do not understand the obsession with this...stuff."

She sighed heavily and replied, "I've loved them since I was a little girl, Dale. I always will. Deal with it, country music guy."

He smiled at her as she smirked at him, looking him up and down in his white summer outfit, complete with matching shorts. He looked like he was going out to play tennis.

"Look at you, Andre' Agassi. Tennis anyone?" she drawled. "Or, should I say, Mr. Attorney? I think you forgot to drape a sweater over your shoulders. At least it has a little polo guy on it, so you'll fit right in with any law firm."

"What's wrong with this?" he asked, modeling the ensemble sarcastically, like he was on a cat walk. "I'm wearing it to the party tonight. It's supposed to be really humid tonight. I suggest you wear that long, green cotton sun dress. You'll be comfy in that. Besides, it brings out the color of your eyes," he remarked sweetly.

"The green Celtic one with the slits?" she asked. "I actually do have it with me. I love that dress. It covers everything but has those slits leave little to the imagination." She gazed up to him with a twinkle in her which made him 'ooh' in appreciation.

"I know," he said seductively, raising his eyebrows. "That's why I want you to wear it."

She walked over to the bureau and pulled out the dress. It was a French-sleeved long dress made of cotton. A perfect dress to wear on hot summer nights. You could wear it casual or dressy depending on the shoes, but she wore it casual most of the time. It was a rich emerald green dress, with Celtic knots and labyrinths in white splayed in various spots. The buttons started at the top of the neckline and went all the way down. It had a matching tie to loop into a bow in the back. It was a cinch to pullover her head, but Dale made it an assignment to undo every button whenever she wore it, "Let me help you miss, with all those buttons" he would say sarcastically. Ah, let him, he feels like he's accomplishing a huge task, she would think. There were an equal amount of slits that went completely around the dress which stopped at her upper thigh. Just enough to show her shapely legs but show some modesty.

She reached for her undergarments, her slight platform white canvass Keds and her makeup bag and made her way back to the humid bathroom.

"I'll be dressed in a flash," she said, blowing a little kiss at Dale and him making a huge effort to catch it as she made her way to the bathroom singing along with the song,

"Baby's good to me y'know she's happy as can be y'know she said so, I'm in love with her and I feel fine."

###

She finally dressed and grabbed her white Gucci bag with what she thought she would need for the evening, following Dale toward the door, not noticing he grabbed her bottle of VALIUM.

"Darlin'?" he started hesitatingly as he pulled the door closed, turning the knob to make certain that it locked. "Let's not talk about your little experience with anyone at the party, ok?"

"The Dragoon thing?" she asked curiously. She gave him a confused look but agreed. "Uh...ok. No biggie." She let a mischievous smile creep upon her face and said jokingly, "don't want me to be taken away in a straight jacket by the men in white coats now, do we?"

"I'm serious Savannah," Dale said with exasperation. "Only Doc Martin and I know about this, so let's keep it that way, all right? And don't say 'crap' either. It's really tacky."

"Alrighty, morphadity. Wouldn't want to ruin your reputation with my insanity, potty mouth or my audacity, would we?" she commented.

Dales shook his head, rolled his eyes and said, "and don't say 'alrighty morphadity,' all right? Ladies don't speak that way."

Savannah mimicked him, saying in a squeaky voice, "ladies don't speak that way. Whatever, Dale."

"You are such a goof." He put the key card into his pocket and eyed her almost fatherly. "Do you have everything you need?" Dale asked, shaking his head and sighing outloud.

"Let's see," she murmured. "Mase, zapper, cattle prod, lipstick, bullwhip, mascara, handcuffs, oh! Here's my autograph book...hey..don't." He was giving her one of the little shoves he always gave her to show he disapproved of how she acted.

"Obnoxious one, aren't you?" he remarked with southern sarcasm.

"Actually," she said. "I do have a little bottle of H20 just in case. I'm also bringing my headphones with fresh batteries just in case also."

"Just in case also," he teased with a smirk. "You are going to be the most illiterate doctor in the Bay City area, if not the entire world. I hope you're planning on working in the ghetto." She opened her mouth in shock at his 'ghetto' comment as he gave her a curious glance, asking, "why in the world are you bringing your headphones?"

"Well," she started. "Aside from my lack of grasping the English language properly, which is a topic of discussion that we will have when I have all the time in the world to discuss it with you, why shouldn't bring it? They're friends of your parents and who knows how much fun this is actually going to be?"

As much as she tried to be social at his gatherings, she always ended up sitting alone. The southerners he knew never wanted to spend time chatting with her, a boring Yankee. She knew this from her past experiences. Since his mother never had a nice thing to say to her and acted as if she were a nuisance, why would it matter if she just popped on her headset and listened to her tapes.

"I can't believe you're going to bring that thing!" he barked. "Leave it in the room!" Dale was livid. This is too rude, he thought. "You can't go to Dr. Martin's home as an invited guest and pull that...thing out of your handbag!" He let out a deep sigh and said, "that is the rudest thing anyone can do!"

"You didn't think it was rude for your brother to walk away from me while I was in the middle of answering one of his many questions about me going to pre med school, did you?" she asked in her defense.

"Chuck was always like that. I told you that Savannah. He is a very stressed out human being and..." He tried to explain but Savannah interrupted him.

"Too stressed out with his law practice to chat with the woman that is betrothed to his brother? He just walked away without a single word, grunt, or hand motion. He could have just said, 'excuse me' and gone off to wherever he wanted to go to, but he just left me there yakking onto myself like a nut! Now that's rude! No, no, no, no! I am bringing it." She stood her ground.

"Fine," he said, with his hands up. "You want to embarrass both of us, go right ahead. But don't come crying to me if they snub you at our wedding."

She sighed, rolled her eyes as she thought that his family is going to snub her anyway. She went toward the room, putting out her hand for the key and said, "oh all right. Keep your undies on. I'll put it back. Wait for me."

She went into the room, walked to the bureau and pretended to throw the headset in it and said, "I'm coming." She proceeded to stuff the small headset into the bottom of her bag.

###

It was just after eight P.M. as they made their way out of the B&B. The humidity hit them like a blast of heat from an oven that was turned on broil.

"Oh man," Savannah said. "This is insane! I thought Chicago was bad with the humidity. How can anyone breathe in this kind of weather?"

"Chicago is a walk in the park compared to the south, darlin'," he drawled. "Wait until we go to New Orleans. You'll be in for a soggy surprise."

"Why New Orleans?" Savannah asked breathlessly. "When are we going there?"

"Why, for our honeymoon darling'," he said.

She exclaimed, "New Orleans? Why there? It's not very romantic, is it? I was thinking Mackinac Island, Bermuda, England or Hawaii. Something a little bit more sober and utopian.

"Well listen to you, Miss History buff. I thought you would like to see the pre-Civil War plantations that still stand there. It is rich in Civil War history," he said.

"You always get the eras mixed up, Dale. You know I dig American Revolutionary War history," she stated dryly. "Oh crap," she continued with a bit of uneasiness in her voice. "I hope these people don't know much about me. Otherwise, I'll really be the hit of the party when I don't have the answers to how Lincoln thought the south's economy would have improved with the placement of Northern cavalry troops in post civil war Charleston, South Carolina. Or perhaps they'll ask me what I really think of General Grant. I just know that he won the war, was a president and lived in Galena after his presidency. I'll be more open for discussion as to why Ben Franklin wrote Fart Proudly, or when we're setting our wedding date. Even our honeymoon destination, which will be a topic of discussion tomorrow morning, dear." Now she was feeling nervous, especially since these people were probably going to scrutinize her every move.

"I still cannot believe you have a book with the word 'fart' in its title," he replied disapprovingly.

"See? You still go on about that damn book," she said angrily. "You know it's slightly historical, but quite hysterical. Ben Franklin wrote it. Hmm..maybe I should discuss that."

He shook his head and said angrily, "please don't discuss the book, or say 'fart,' darlin'. It's very undignified for a lady to say."

She shook her head, silently imitated him to herself and rolled her eyes at him. Sensing her discomfort, he went up to her and smiled tenderly at her. "Look, you'll be wonderful. You always are much to both of our surprise," Dale said sweetly, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. Yes, she thought, thanks for the vote of confidence, but you always leave me alone to fend for myself.

He grabbed her wrist, which she thought odd since he hardly walked holding her hand and hurried her across the street to Dr. Martin's house. It was right on the beach and only a few houses away from the B&B. A typical colonial revival style of a house with a white washed picket fence. It looked like it was right out of the show "The Wonder Years." There was the sound of classical music coming from the house along with the aroma of sweet barbeque sauce and charcoal. Smoke was leaping and dancing like fingers in the air with the slight breeze that drifted off the Atlantic, giving a spooky ghost-like effect to the air around the house.

"Is your friend Gabriel going to be here, Dale? I can't wait to see him again. I like him. He's hilarious! And so nice," she said eagerly as they started up the walkway that leads to the back of the house. She only met Gabriel once, but it was memorable. He waited on her hand and foot in the special suite at Yankee Stadium his firm has for special clients. Dale wasn't too thrilled about that, which is probably why she didn't see him again after they went to the World Series.

"No," he answered blankly. "He's still in New York, much to his parents disapproval."

She gave him a confused look. "Disapproval? Why don't they approve? What does he do again?" she asked.

He sighed as he continued to hold her wrist firmly, giving her a slight yank. "He works at Morgan Stanley. I forget what he does exactly, but it has something to do with investments. I know nothing about that stuff. I just know that it's not law." He looked at her briefly as he answered her question. "They don't understand why he has to have a career in finance in New York, and not one here in Charleston. They think its wrong for him to be in New York, but he loves the big city." He seemed to be a little impatient with her questions, sounding annoyed with her as he explained why the Martin's think its wrong for Gabriel to be up in Yankee capital, but she approved him working there, especially since it was him that got them their World Series tickets. He also manages Dale's investment portfolio.

They walked into the backyard and were recognized immediately by Dr. Martin's wife, Cathy, who was dressed in a bright red silk summer dress and her long gray hair was pulled up stylishly.

She ran to them and squealed, "Dale darling'!" which made Savannah jump because she literally squealed his name.

Dale dropped her hand abruptly and reached for Mrs. Martin, hugging her tightly.

"Ah, Mrs. Martin. You are looking divine tonight. How do you do it? Looking so young and lovely with that pseudo New Yorker son of yours giving you stress. And those feisty daughters of yours, I swear," Dale said with thick, southern comfort. A little too much southern comfort for my taste, Savannah thought as she held back her laughter.

"Oh Dale, you do know that flattery will get you anywhere, don't you?" she sugared back with her bright red painted lips, catching a brief sweeping glance at Savannah but not acknowledging her. "Can you believe we have a dreadful DJ? I had to let the girls have their way a little bit as far as this party was concerned. You younguns, I DOO declaih!" she exclaimed, with a flash of huge white teeth, giving her a look like a crocodile.

"Oh yes, do come darlin', you must meet everyone. As you know, Gabriel is stuck at the World Trade Center, he couldn't meet with us tonight but he will be in tomorrow, so you two can catch up! Oh, the girls will just die when they see you," she continued with her pseudo sweetness and so-called southern charm as she grabbed Dale's arm and led him out to the festivities, still not acknowledging Savannah.

Savannah caught a whiff of whatever perfume Mrs. Martin doused herself with and coughed loudly. What a phoney bitch with her crocodile smile and her Tammy Faye Baker makeup, she thought, as she mouthed mockingly the last sentence, "AH dooo declaih tha girls will just Dah!..blah blah blah. Nevah in mah lahf have ah seen such a phoney smile, Mrs. Mahtin," and started to slowly follow them toward the noise of the party.

She had just finished rolling her eyes when she caught a man in a white suit standing somewhat close to her and looking at her. She felt herself blush and shrugged at him, thinking "oh crap, I must have said that outloud, and he must have heard me. I really have to watch what I say in front of people." He in turn raised his champagne glass at her with a nod and warm but amused expression on his face. What is it with these southern men and white suits, she thought. He looks like a ref for a tennis match at the U.S. Open.

She resumed her slow walk toward the party when she noticed from the corner of her eye that white suit was coming toward her. She stopped abruptly and turned her head to look at him, making it a point to flip her long tresses in his direction. "I hope Dale is looking my way," she said to herself. I don't have a fan to brush across my face Mr. White Suit, she thought with confidence, so my hair will have to do. I know what an impression that makes.

"Sir," she said. "May I help you?" She had a flirtatious lilt in her already deep, sexy voice.

"Oh, you're not from these parts, are you?" he asked. "I couldn't tell by your previous remarks."

Oh crap, she thought. He did hear me, feeling her face burn from blushing.

He smiled at this, saying "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you about it. I just meant to point out that it isn't drawn out and boring like everyone else."

He raised an eyebrow at her and bowed slightly at her, saying, "Colonel William Tavington, at your service Miss. And you are..."

He too was not from these parts. He had a British accent and an amazing face with incredible eyes. Ah, she thought, what is it with me and blue eyes lately? His dark, chestnut hair was quite long, a bit too long for her taste. It was almost too perfect for a human being. No split ends, completely shiny and tied tastefully with a black silk tie.

"Savannah Fabré sir," she said, extending her hand out to him and looked at him curiously as if she recognized him. "Colonel?" she asked, shaking his hand heartily. "Are you with the Royal Air Force?"

"Something like that," he stated, smiling at her and slowly releasing her hand, which she noticed was cool.

"Well, Colonel, I'm sorry I won't be requiring any service from you," she said.

"Oh my that is a pity," he said with melodramatic melancholy. "And me here all by myself wondering what an honor it would be to be in the company of such a beautiful woman. And wearing such a lovely dress Miss Fabre`. It does display your cleavage quite nicely."

She felt herself blush as she slightly adjusted the amazing Wonder Bra that made anyone's boobs look like a million bucks. She cleared her throat and gave him a cocked eyebrow, about to say something about his nerve when he continued, "looks like a Celtic design. Are you Irish?"

"Half," she stated, blushing again and forgetting the cleavage remark as his blue eyes imprinted a delicious and permanent image in her brain. "The hair usually gives it away. I'm sure you can tell by my last name what the other half is?" She was speaking with a slight seductive tone to her voice. Oh my God, she thought. How dare I flirt with another man when my fiancé is right here, being devoured by croc smile woman.

He looked up with fake concentration and muttered, "hmmmm, let me guess. English, right?"

She laughed wholeheartedly and said, "very good, Colonel Tavington. Yes sir, it is English. My family came off the boat at Ellis Island. Immigration thought it was too dull to say, difficult to pronounce actually, so they changed the name Farber to Fabre`. It sounded more ethnic, exotic."

He laughed out loud with dancing eyes and said, "touche`, Miss Farber. You are funny. I do believe that the name 'Fabré is related to the King of France. Are you royalty, and we all don't know it?" He smiled warmly at her, and his eyes of blue glistening like topaz droplets from the party lights.

"Well," she started. "My parents died when I was young, so I guess we will never know. Unless my aunt didn't want me to know something I shouldn't know, so perhaps I should do some research in it."

He smiled back at her and asked, "won't you join me for a drink, Savannah?"

Savannah looked toward where Dale and croc smile walked to but didn't see them.

"No thank you, Colonel," she said. " I believe I will take a rain check if you don't mind. I'll even discuss the arrival of the Beatles with you, but for now I need to find my fiancé."

He feigned dramatic melancholy again. "Oh, my heart," he said, with his right hand on his chest and smiling, making her giggle. "You are engaged. I am so heartbroken. Please let me know when we can redeem that... rain check. Don't leave me with bated breath, my darling. We will discuss the...Beatles, the King of England or whatever you want. Until then," He took her hand and gently kissed it. He looked up into her eyes and still holding her hand to his lips, gently touching her knuckles with them and gave each one a light and caressing kiss. It gave her a tingly feeling of slight uneasiness, but it felt good, like she was doing something naughty. She couldn't help but look up into his own eyes as they looked straight into hers, almost looking into her soul and making her tilt her head to one side. She felt her heart pounding so hard she put her other hand to her chest as if it would prevent it from jumping out of its rib cage and into his other palm.

"You know, I really must go," she whispered, and started to leave him but not without slowly dragging her hand out of his, allowing her fingertips to caress the palm of his hand, which felt really cool to her touch. Cold drink, she thought.

"That's quite alright, my darling. It has been such a pleasure to be touched by an angel. I would prefer more devilish ways of contact, quite honestly," he said with a wink, which made her gasp slightly. "Until we meet again." She turned and started to walk slowly away from him.

Don't turn back, she said to herself, but she did, which made her right knee buckle slightly and making her awkwardly regain her gait, catching him smiling back to her with affection and slight amusement. White suit was quite handsome, she thought. Breathtakingly handsome.

"Woo-wee!" she sighed outloud and fanning herself with her Gucci. And here's me, big ass dork tripping on my own two feet, she thought to herself with frustration. My dojo would be very upset to know that I lost my balance over some hot dude.

As he stood under the party lights, she was able to see the beauty of his eyes. A cold, hard blue steel. They had a slight unemotional glaze upon them aside from amusement when he first approached her, but they warmed up to her as soon as she spoke, as if her voice were music to his ears. He was taller than Dale, probably about six feet tall. He had an impressive build and looked quite dapper, despite he wore a white suit, which she thought made him look like an attractive and hunky Leon Redbone, if anyone can place the two descriptions together. His long brown hair looking smooth as silk as it draped casually in waves across his shoulder. She didn't like men with long hair, but for some reason, she just couldn't get that look out of her mind! This man looked really good with it. Or, without it, she giggled to herself. His shoulders were so broad they could carry the tears of the world. His face was something though, she thought. It was as if it was chiseled by Michelangelo with a slight cleft in his chin. Dale's soft yet masculine features were all that she had to compare with since she spent so much time with him. No other man until then entered her mind. White suit seemed to be comfortable despite the high humidity. Everyone else had a glossy look about him thanks to body condensation but he seemed to be cool as a cucumber. Relaxed too. I must be sweating like a pig all over this man, she thought. He must have had his weekly intake of sodium with that one kiss on my knuckles.

She slowed her step and caressed her knuckles as if an imprint was left for her to see, smiling down at them.

"A bit audacious, but such a gentleman," she said to herself. Dale never kissed her hand. He was never outspoken with anything, actually quite bashful. And he wasn't the most romantic man in the world either, but his intentions were always good. She stopped suddenly, cracked her neck and her back and made her way into the bustle of the party in search of her missing fiancé.

###

She finally found Dale, who was seated lazily in an Adirondack chair with a petite giggling blond sitting on each arm of the white wooden seat. All three of them were sipping champagne out of crystal flutes as they suddenly started laughing out loud at the same time after the two girls each whispered something into Dale's ear simultaneously. The two blonds in matching light-blue tank dresses with shoulder length hair that looked like it needed conditioning were fawning all over him, touching his shoulder, his chest, giggling that fake girlie giggle that annoys Savannah so much. They look like those blond twins that Hugh Hefner has with him all the time, she thought to herself.

"Thank you for leaving me behind," she stated flatly as she approached Dale.

"Oh Savannah," he said happily. "There you are. Where were you?" He seemed oblivious to Savannah's slightly irritated expression on her face.

"Where you left me, creep! I was almost picked up by this British chippy in a bad, white suit." She paused, pointing her Gucci toward the direction she just came from. "Why don't you introduce me to your entourage' darling?" she said with dripping sarcasm.

"Savannah, this is Charlotte and Susan Martin. Dr. Martin's identical twin daughters. Ladies, this is Savannah."

Charlotte and Susan looked at her with slight contempt, saying "hi" in exaggerated southern tone.

"What British chippy? Where is he?" he asked nonchalantly. Savannah, ignoring Dale's questions, extended her hand to each of the girls, who reciprocated with a dull, limp, sweaty and most unwelcome hand shake.

"Nice Gucci," Charlotte said, impressed.

"Thanks. Dale's fiancé, charmed I'm sure," she stated firmly and suddenly feeling like a cave woman as she let go of the tiny and delicate fingers of the girls. These petite matching bookends look like I could snap them in half with my fingers, she deducted.

Charlotte looked surprised at this statement, "Dale honey," she said in feigned heartbreak and with a twang. "You never told us you were spoken for. How could you be so mean to us? And a Yankee!"

"I don't believe this, Dale," Savannah interrupted. "You're not telling folks that we're about to be married after I finish my first pre-med term at Stanford?" She made it a point to accent the pre-med remark and added a fake wedding date. "And by the way ladies, I'm Canadian. Not a Yankee," she said.

"So you speak funny on purpose? Do all Canadians have Yankee accents?" Susan asked bitingly.

"No Susan," Charlotte said. "They say things like 'hoose' for house, 'oot' for out, and 'okah eh like that comedy duo on that tv show. You know the two guys in that dumb beer movie Gabriel likes so much. And they wear their winter hats all the time, even to go to sleep."

Dale chimed in, "Oh! You mean the MacKenzie Brothers. Take off, eh?" and the three of them we laughing hysterically at Dale's attempt at stand up comedy, as if he were Jerry Seinfeld at Carnegie Hall.

"Actually," Dale continued. "She does say 'eh' a lot, and she says things like 'holy crap' and..."

"Hmmm.." Savannah interrupted and rolling her eyes at the same time. "...very funny you three. I do say 'eh' and 'hoose.' I drink Canadian beer, but I also drink Irish beer. I eat Canadian bacon. I speak some French. I ice skate and do it quite well. I played ice hockey in high school for four years. Hockey is the Canadian word for 'kick your ass!'"

She was getting angrier as she continued, "I also have a 4^th degree black belt in karate, so does that make me a Japanese French Canadian Irish Yankee?" Savannah tried to remain calm but just couldn't. "I think it's a shame that you southerners are still pissed off at the north for kicking your butts back in 1865. Get over it! There will never be slavery again, and the Antebellum South will never rise again, darlin's!"

She turned on one heel and stormed away from them, hearing Dale call for her but ignored him, walking 'oot' of the stimulating conversation and to the 'hoose' to go to the bathroom. She walked through the kitchen, which was bustling with servers, chefs barking orders and food everywhere. She also noticed that there were tons shrimp cocktails waiting to be served. She finally asked one of the servers where the bathroom was and nodding as he pointed toward a long dark hallway.

As she walked down the hallway, the outside party lights sprayed an odd and eerie glow across the walls, giving off ghostly images and shadows. She smelled a slight sulfur odor and guessed that she was approaching the bathroom. Oh great, she thought. Now I have to light matches for the last occupant? I hope it isn't too bad, she whined to herself. She stewed over how Dale had insulted her, especially in front of those two bimbos! Charlotte and Susan indeed, she continued to think angrily. The fuzzy headed, brainless, hair in bad need of conditioning twins from hell! Humphf! How does he have the nerve to act so... idiotically, she thought furiously. He told me he wasn't attracted to blondes. What is wrong with him? How dare he? Before another thought went through her mind, she bumped into someone, hard!

"Oof! Oh, I am so sorry, I didn't see you!" she said, inadvertently grabbing the arms of the person she bumped into. "I stepped on you. I hope you don't bruise easily."

"Quite alright, my darling."

It was white suit! He held her firmly by her hips and gazed down at her chuckling. "You wouldn't bruise a fly, Savannah. Do you want to have that drink with me now?" he asked.

She just could not believe how handsome he was and that accent! I just love a British accent, she sang to herself. She felt a flutter in her stomach, like little orgasms.

"You know, Colonel Tavington, is it?" she started, him nodding slowly in response. "I really do want that drink. At this point its more of a necessity. And speaking of necessities, I really do need to hit the privy to freshen up." She shivered as she realized she was still holding his arms. She looked up into his eyes as his face was slightly illuminated by the party lights. Ha Dale, she thought. Wait until you see me having a chat and drink with this handsome dude. You'll crap a brick, creep!

She noticed she wasn't sweating as much as she was earlier. It was considerable cooler, almost cold she thought with another shiver. The Martin's must have the central air cranked up, she thought. Probably for all that shrimp they have in the kitchen, she deducted to herself briefly.

He was still holding her, but his hold got tighter and he started to pull her close to him. He took her arms and put them around his neck, holding her wrists with strong hands, which made her stiffen with apprehension. She was about to pull her arms away when he put his arms down, caressing her arms with his fingers and making her tingle with excitement. It also tickled her, so she tried to stifle a giggle without success.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, looking deeply into her eyes and gave her a lazy smile, murmuring, "mmmm...your evening is that bad? I'll make it all better," making her murmur back. He started swaying with her to the rhythm of the song that was playing at the party. It was an unusual piece of classical music, almost like a sonata. They continued to sway slowly together like trees bending gently in the wind.

"This is a lovely piece of music," she whispered, trying to change the subject but ended up resting her face against his chest, feeling as if she were hypnotized and under some kind of spell.

"Not as lovely as you are, my darling," he whispered huskily against her ear. They were swaying harder, moving their hips in unison. He took one of her hands and kissed the palm gently, then worked his way to her fingers with soft lips, causing her to shiver again, but this time not from the crisp coldness in the air.

She slowly wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her hands caress the base of his skull with gentle movements. She felt the softness of his hair and rested her head on his shoulder. He was breathing gently into her ear, touching his nose over the curve of her earlobe. She gasped in surprise at this slightly intimate touch, but didn't push him away. Instead, she pulled herself closer to him, pressing her breasts against his chest. Oh my God, she thought. Why do I feel so good with this man, and why does he look so familiar? He is so beautiful! Her brain was jello, as were her knees since they gave away periodically, causing him to chuckle slightly and hold her closer to his strong body.

They continued swaying made them almost melt together, making her now erect nipples rub against him, sending shivers of excitement and desire through her entire body. She felt herself moan as his fingers gently massage the curve of her backbone, sending electrical sparks up and down it. "Ooh, Colonel.." she started.

"Please," he said. "Call me William."

"Ooh William," she cooed back with a satisfied smile.

"Savannah.." he murmured back. "You are delicious. I love the way you say my name."

She began to feel a slight twinge of pleasure between her legs and she knew she was moistening from their little dance, especially since his fingers splayed a little lower from her back and onto her buttocks. She could feel the moisture increase between her legs as she moved seductively to the rhythm of the song against his strong hips, which were now pressed against hers with enough pressure to rub against the mound between her legs, causing her to gasp quietly and him to respond with a sensual murmur in her ear. She was beginning to feel her head swirl even more with desire. She looked up at him and felt his gaze pierce her soul. She was beginning to breathe harder and thought she was going to have an orgasm.

They continued with seductive movements which made her head spin like moths spinning in a light until the end of the song. I do not want this to end, she thought to herself. As the silence grew, he stopped swaying with her. His arms went up to cover her shoulders with both of them sighing contentedly within each others arms and gazing adoringly at each other.

"Mmm, William. I love your eyes," she started as she caressed his cheek with the back of her hand, him responding by rubbing his cheek against her hand. She jerked back slightly at the next song, which she noticed was now Shania Twain belting out about how she feels like a woman.

She straightened up and placed her hands on his broad shoulders, which she noticed were quite muscular. She caressed them, looking up at him and drinking the look of desire and want in his eyes and sighed.

"I really need to go to the privy. Would you excuse me please?" she said.

"Yes, go. I will wait for you. I need you...come back to me," he said.

###

Finishing her business in the bathroom and after washing her hands, she was reapplying her lipstick and paused, catching a glance at herself in the mirror. She sighed and smiled lazily to herself, pointed the lipstick at her reflection and said, "what the hell is your problem Savannah? This poor guy is totally rebound material. You don't use anyone. Your fiancé is right outside."

She sighed again to herself and continued to apply her lipstick, thinking lazily about how this Colonel Tavington excited her so much with just this little dance, who knows what he's capable of doing. He seemed to look into my soul with those luscious blue eyes. He said he will wait for me and that...wait a minute!...she thought, pausing with her lipstick in her hand and staring blankly at it. He told me that he needs me...she dropped her lipstick and was looking down at the base of the mirror, feeling her heart pound hard and a lump in her throat and thought, that sounds familiar, why does that sound familiar...OH MY GOD! Was this the guy I saw earlier?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp and hard knock that almost made her jump out of her skin.

"Holy crap!" she shouted.

There was a man's chuckle and a deep sigh.

"Darlin', that has to be you."

It was Dale.

She heard him chuckle a champagne laugh as she rolled her eyes and sighed outloud. She thought to herself, oh please Colonel, if you are real be waiting for me somewhere outside and not where Dale can see you.

She opened the door quickly and saw Dale standing there with a look of concern. She gave him an exasperated glare and exclaimed, "Dale!" She put her hands akimbo and continued with aggravation. "You scared the hell out of me! What are you doing, banging on the door like you're the damn police?"

He smiled at her last question. "Darlin', I was looking for you," he said. "I came into the house and one of the servers said that you went into the restroom. Are you alright?" he asked, caressing her cheek and then feeling her forehead and continued with a sniff, "are you smoking?"

"Smoking?" she asked. "No. But I do wish I had one right now. Why do you ask?"

Dale sniffed around him, saying, "it smells like a match was lit."

She replied, "well, I didn't light one since I don't have any. For obvious bathroom necessity, someone before me must have. I also don't have any smokes." She looked at him in anger and said, "by the way, after the way you just treated me in front of those tiny bimbos, I didn't feel right at home, if ya knows what I mean?" She roughly pulled his hand off her head.

He made his way into the bathroom and said, "I figured that you'd be in the house, what with the air conditioning up. Don't be angry about earlier, but I was only teasing, darlin'. You always tell me to laugh more at myself. Do as I say?" He smiled broadly, taking her chin into his hand and gave it a little shake. "Hmm?" he said as he suddenly closed the bathroom door quietly behind him. "You know," he said huskily, grabbing her by the waist and kissing her neck. "I don't think that you're a member of the mile low club now, are you?"

Savannah looked shocked, gave him a slight shove and exclaimed, "you are something else! There you were, with the two 'Mini Me' panting matching bookends, drooling all over your ears and your Kswiss tennies, and now you want to make it with me in the Martins' john! I am so 'like' not in the mood, 'eh? Besides," she started. "I think there was a man behind me that wanted to use the privy after I did. He may still be in the hall. I don't want him to hear us."

"No one will hear us, if you're quiet. Come on, darlin'," he said as he kissed her neck again, pulling her closer and rubbing his excitement against her. "A really quick one," he said huskily. "I have a condom. Besides, you'll feel more relaxed."

"You have a condom?" she asked incredulously. "What the hell are you doing armed with a condom at a party?" But this didn't stop Dale from his advances as he picked her up and placed her on the sink. He slid between her legs as he put his hands up her dress and started to eagerly pull at her cotton white panties. He continued to kiss her face, her neck, and her lips as she tasted the Crystal champagne he was drinking earlier, which made her feel a bit nauseous. She pushed him away with frustration and caught her breath.

"No Dale!" she exclaimed. "Stop it! I mean it! Don't touch me!"

Dale pulled away and put his hands up, making him look like he was in a hold-up. "Ok, ok darlin'," he said in defeat, and getting a bit worried. He gently caressed her forehead and sighed gently, "don't get angry about it. If its such a big deal, we can leave now and go back to the hotel. Are you sure you're feeling alright? You're all flushed." He was really concerned now, since she never told him not to touch her. Probably from what happened earlier, he thought. He put his arm around her waist and said, "let's see if Dr. Martin can give you something to calm down. Actually, I brought the..."

"I don't need any drugs, Dale.." she started as she pulled away from him again. "I need you to stop touching me!"

What is wrong with her, he thought to himself with shock. "Darlin'," he said as he let her go reluctantly. "You're beginning to scare me. Since when do you not want me to touch you? I am so sorry about what happened with the Martin twins. As you would say, I was being a creep. It'll never happen again. I promise. Look, we've been here for a couple of hours already so, let's go say goodbye to Dr. Martin and go back to the hotel."

She looked up at him angrily and noticed that his forehead was creased with worry, which was how he would look before a big exam. "Alright," she agreed. "Let's go."

###

I should say goodbye to William or at least tell Dr. Martin to bid farewell to him for me. That would make Dale stew, she thought. Where was he anyway? He can't be too far, she thought. She was literally straining her head, looking behind and around, searching for the dashing colonel and hoping she would run into him in the kitchen. Dale lead her through the Martin's home which was not as cold as before, she noticed. As they exited, they noticed Dr. Martin immediately, who was wearing a casual white cotton suit. Savannah laughed gently to herself over the doctors suit briefly and continued to search for William, her dream weaver.

"Doc!" Dale called. Dr. Martin turned and smiled immediately at Savannah.

"Why, hello there sweetheart. So," he asked with enthusiasm. "You're Savannah. Sorry we couldn't meet earlier under better circumstances. Lovely to meet you. How are you feeling this evening? Are you having yourself a good time?" he asked, as he took her hands in his, holding them tenderly.

She looked up at the handsome older gentleman in the white cotton suit and tried not to laugh. Instead, she smiled back warmly at him. He looked too young to have daughters as old as the twins or a son as old as Gabriel. Ah, blue eyes she thought to herself. His blue eyes twinkled at her as Dale spoke over Savannah's attempt.

"Actually, Doc, we'll be leaving. Savannah isn't feeling like herself and I do think that it is the humidity. She should get some rest, especially after what happened to her earlier."

Savannah shot him a look of astonishment. How dare he answer for me, she thought. Typical southern man, she continued to think. Why don't you just ask him if he has a straightjacket laying around that happens to be my size?

Dr. Martin's eyes clouded over with concern. "Sweetheart. You really need to take better care of yourself. I hope you're not pregnant. Do you two have a wedding date set?" he asked chuckling affectionately at the shocked expressions on the young couple in front of him. "If not, I think that you should set one quickly," he joked.

Dale and Savannah stuttered simultaneously, "no, no uh..no.."

Savannah smiled sweetly at the Dr. and said, "I take quite good care of myself. I exercise almost every day, I take vitamins, eat well, drink lots of water and use sun block."

Dale interrupted with a roll of his eyes, "she does, but she also smokes."

She shot him a dirty look as she continued. "Dr. Martin, I can't be pregnant. We use too much protection, you know? We use abstinence, cold showers, the usual. But I do have my dress. It's lovely, with puffy princess sleeves in ivory silk. I suppose we should set a date before the return date for the dress expires."

Dr. Martin chuckled, but Dale glared at her.

She cocked her head to the side and said sweetly, "but I would like you to say goodbye to someone for me."

"Of course, darlin'. And who would that be?" he asked curiously.

"Yes darling," Dale asked, putting the 'g' back in darlin' for the first time, ever, making her give Dale a sideways glance. "Who would that be?" he asked, a look of disdain in his eyes.

She remained calm, cool and collected as she stated, "why, Colonel Tavington. He was so pleasant to talk to. He made me feel very comfortable, and welcome, unlike other people." She gave a slight emphasis on the 'other people' remark and continued to smile at Dr. Martin.

Dale stiffened when she said this, feeling his heart fall to his feet as Dr. Martin looked at her with confusion, repeating "Colonel Tavington," quietly. Suddenly they were interrupted by the appearance of Mrs. Martin as she stepped into the little triangle of conversation.

"Dale, you and your little friend here having a good time?" she asked sugary.

"Mrs. Martin," Dale started. "This is Savannah Fabre`, my fiancé."

Savannah had her mouth open in surprise as Dale's sudden introduction as his betrothed, but not as long as Cathy Martin did, which was for a couple of seconds before extending her bejeweled hand at Savannah's face.

"Fiancé? Dale, you are a tricky little devil! I had no idea! Ah declare, the girls will be so disappointed! Lovely to meet you, darlin'," she said with so much sugar that Savannah felt cavities forming on her teeth.

"Mrs. Martin," she said, as she took the limp hand and gave it a hearty pump.

"We really should get going, Doc, Mrs. Martin," Dale interrupted. "Savannah's had a big day today and she needs her rest. We need to get up early and prepare for her reenactment tomorrow."

"You'll be participating in the reenactment tomorrow?" the doctor asked with surprise. "Impressive, my dear! I've never known anyone that participated in those. They sound like so much fun!" Dr. Martin said excitedly as he continued in a more serious tone. "Actually, I would like to see Savannah tomorrow. I want to make sure that she's up to going to the reenactment in this humidity. Don't want you to get the vapors in the middle of the woods now, do we?" he asked.

Savannah gave the Dr. a curious look when croc smile interrupted her thoughts,

"Oh my, y'all are going to leave? I have tarot readers and a special coven brought in to help us celebrate the summer solstice. Y'all are going to miss a grand time! Do stay. I know the solstice isn't until tomorrow, but this coven would only come tonight. They have their own thing with their..uh..Congregation for the summer solstice."

Dale smiled warmly at croc smile and said, "many thanks Mrs. Martin, but Savannah hasn't been feeling well. It appears that she has had an apparition of some kind appear before her little green eyes early this morning."

Savannah shot him a look of shock, complete with her mouth agape. "We should get her back to the hotel for some rest," he said. "The good Dr. wants to make sure she's alright. Especially if she wants to do that reenactment tomorrow now, right darling?"

Savannah gave him a look that could freeze hell. Let's not talk about what happened to you today Savannah, he tells me. Great, she thought to herself. Get the straightjacket, Dr. Martin. By the way Dale, why are you putting back the 'g' in 'darlin'?

"I really should get some rest. I do have a big day, especially since its my first reenactment and I'm on the chair with the Chicago branch that organizes the Loyola students to participate," she agreed. "I have a big dress to lug around so I need my energy."

Mrs. Martin laughed and said, "oh darlin', you don't really do that silly stuff now, do you?"

Savannah could feel the blood rise to her cheeks with anger as she responded, "Yes, Mrs. Martin I do. It's not silly at all. It's a hobby of mine and I enjoy it very much because it reminds me that freedom isn't necessarily free." She turned to Dr. Martin, "what time would you like to see me tomorrow, Dr. Martin? Dr. Martin?" She shook his arm gently and he regained his composure, as if lost in thought.

"Uh...how's eight A.M.? Too early?" he asked.

"Not at all," Dale chimed in. "She gets up at crack of dawn to work out, so that would be great."

Dr. Martin looked at Savannah with wonder and replied, "alright. Eight it is. Until then," He nodded his head to her and took her hand and kissed it lightly, but not without giving her one last gaze.

"Goodbye. Tell the girls I'll see them before I return to Chicago," Dale said.

"Oh, goodbye!" croc smile shrieked as she warmly hugged Dale and put her arm into the crook of her husband's. The Martins watched Dale and Savannah leave. Dr. Martin was wondering how Savannah knew about Colonel Tavington. He hadn't heard that name in ages. Not since his grandfather told him stories about how his seven-time-great grandfather Benjamin Martin fought the British with his militia during the American Revolution, losing a son, or was it two at the hands of one Colonel William Tavington, who was a ruthless soldier. He had to speak further about this with Savannah in the morning.

"Lovely girl, isn't she Thomas? All that red hair. I wonder if it's really hers," Mrs. Martin asked her husband, who nodded, smiling but not really listening to his wife, Cathy.

###

Dale was silent as he held Savannah by her left upper arm. He had a vicelike grip on her and it felt like he was almost dragging her as they made their way back to the B&B.

"Ow, Dale!" she exclaimed. "You're hurting me! Let me go!"

He stopped suddenly, swinging her around to face him. "What the hell is wrong with you? You embarrassed me in front of those people! Those people are friends of my family," he barked, eyes inflamed with anger. "Acting like you're some kind of stand up comedian. You telling Doc Martin to say goodbye to some guy you just met. How dare you? Who the hell was this...colonel guy...and where the hell was he? I didn't see anyone dressed in a military uniform! Tell me!"

Oh my God, she thought. I have never seen him so angry! All she could think of is how his hand was hurting her arm as he started to shake her, his own hands trembling with anger and possibly fear. Probably fear of losing me, she thought to herself briefly.

"Dale, stop shouting! I'll give you a flip if you don't stop..."

He interrupted, "no, I will not stop shouting!" His voice was shaking with anger. His grip continued to tighten, but on both of her arms now. "You're my woman, God damn it!"

"Dale! Stop it! You're really hurting my arms!" she shouted back. "You are such a drama queen! Oh, are you upset because I chatted with some man, or are you really embarrassed by me? I tell you to not overreact every time a guy talks to me. Like I always say, they can look at the menu, but can't take out!"

He rolled his eyes' ala' Savannah and saying angrily, "you with the dumb jokes, Savannah. You're always joking around. I hate that! You know that this is serious!"

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "Nobody always and never does something!" He widened his angry eyes at her, his nostrils flared as she went on, trying to explain her situation. "Besides, I did try to tell you about him, but you were in the throes of ecstasy at the presence of the walking wet dream pygmy twins!"

She was now angry at him, her own eyes flashing a look that he had never seen on her, ever. He backed from her slightly because he began to think that she may pull a karate move on him. She roughly pulled her arms out of his grasp, placing her hands on her hips akimbo.

"So, its perfectly alright for you to sit with these two bimbos, giggling and letting them fawn all over you, drooling with desire, and..and lust in their eyes!" she exclaimed.

"Savannah," he replied with slight aggravation. "Its not like that at all. Those two are like little cousins to me. I would never do anything with them. You have nothing to worry with those two..."

She interrupted sassily. "Cousins? You mean kissing cousins, 'eh? What about how you made fun of me in front of them? Don't you think that was embarrassing to me, or hurt my feelings? Those lame Canadian and Yankee remarks, what was with that? Do you really feel that way about me? You having to settle for a Yank? How the hell do you think that makes me feel? And what about Mrs. Martin ignoring me like that? You didn't even notice that! She must have spoken to your mother, because she treated me the same way your mother does. As if I don't exist!" They just stood there for what seemed like an eternity, just glaring at each other.

"You don't defend me, Dale. Why is that?"

"Maybe this is a mistake," he started. "Maybe its too soon for us to get married. Maybe we should just slow down a bit, because you're not going to change."

She gave him an incredulous look, slapping her hands on her thighs.

"I don't believe this! First, you're avoiding my question. And second, you're not even sorry about what you did to me! And now we're going to break up because of a little misunderstanding?" She pulled her long hair off her shoulders and held it in her hands on top of her head and sighed heavily. "Look," she said quietly. "We just need to talk about this, alright? We should talk about it back at the room and not in front of the whole neighborhood."

He shook his head. "No, I don't want to talk about it anymore. I don't want to break up, but I don't want to get married. Not just yet," he said.

"Dale," she started as she put her hands up and reached for him. "We've been together for almost two years. I want to work this out. I want to marry you still. You have nothing to worry about. We did nothing, this.. colonel and I. We just danced once, that's all. We also had a little chat, but I went to the bathroom and there you were, at the door and I haven't seen him since. I would have introduced you to him, but I didn't see him."

And if he wasn't real, she thought to herself, wouldn't it be really funny that you're jealous of a dream man? A ghost? But he was so real, how could he be a ghost?

He gave her a sarcastic smile as he said, "oh, you would have introduced him to me, would you?" he said. "Would this have been before or after you danced with him? I didn't see you dancing with anyone." He looked at her with wonder and continued. "That would have gone over really well, what with the both of us beating each other up in front of all those people."

"You would have hit him, Dale? Over little ole' me? My, my, I do declare.." she said in a sarcastic southern accent, trying to lighten the mood and thought how comical it would be if Dale were to be swinging at a ghost, but he interrupted her.

"You're my woman. I don't want you talking to any guy that may try to take you away from me. I just love you so much Savannah, but I think I love you too much and you may not love me enough." He sighed, putting his hands into his Polo shorts pockets. "I think its better if we slow down a bit. I don't want to rush into anything we both may regret later. When I do get married, I want it to last forever. I have too much at stake to lose it in divorce." He looked up at the moon, which was almost full. The light from it put a luminous glow, making him look like a little boy with a big fake mustache. He turned to her and said, "I'm sorry, but I am very possessive. I felt like you punched me in the stomach when you told the Dr. that you wished to bid some strange man farewell. I'm sorry you felt that I embarrassed you or hurt your feelings in front of the Martin twins, but I was just joking around with you. You need to change. To stop being so sensitive and stop overreacting." She kept a sober face listening to him intently as he held her by the shoulders. "I want to work this out, but I also want to make sure I make the right decision, so I think we should wait as far as the wedding is concerned." He looked at her with a hurt expression on his face.

"Well," she said, as she started to tug the platinum engagement ring off her finger. "While we're on the topic of overreacting, why don't you just take this then. I don't need to look at it if its not going to work out or if you have doubts! I also was unaware that you wanted me to change so much of myself. I thought you loved me for who I was, not who you want to make me. If you're so unsure about us and that I'm not changing, why the hell you gave this to me in the first place?"

She was about to hand it to him, but he took it and put it back on her fourth left finger.

"No, darlin'," he said tenderly, "I had it made just for you. I want you to wear it. So you can remember the pain you put me through tonight, wear it. I should have a decision made soon, but not now. We need to wait, and ponder on what our relationship is really all about." He was now holding her hands in his and was looking down at her with sincerity. "I really need to think about when it will be right to marry. Maybe that's why I haven't been so eager about setting a wedding date. I don't want to lose you. I know this sounds like an oxymoron, but I really need to know if I can trust you with my life. Please wait for me." His eyes gazed at her pleadingly.

She gently pulled her hands out of his and said calmly, "I'll wait, Dale. I'll wait a while, but not for long. Remember that. I am desirable, as you notice from tonight and I will not last long either. Chew on that for a while, but for now, I want to go to sleep. I have a big day tomorrow." She then turned on one heel and walked stealthily to the B&B, him eventually following her with his shoulders slumped.

###

She couldn't sleep. As soon as they got into their room, she kicked off her shoes and Dale quietly got ready for bed. She felt herself staring at him as he crawled into the four poster bed, covered his head with the sheets and mumbled, "good night," turning away from her. Nothing else was said. With her hands wrapped in front of her, she walked to one of the windows and sat in an antique armchair.

She flipped her legs over the arms and rested her head on the back of the chair, letting her hair cascade over her eyes. She put a hand over her hair and sighed, thinking about everything that had happened to her within the last twenty four hours. First, I see a...What the hell did I see? A ghost? She believed in ghosts, but wasn't sure if what she had seen was actually that?

Noticing her purse was sitting on the end table next to her, she reached for it and pulled out her headphones, plopped her purse on the floor and placed the earphones on her head and turned it on, listening for anything worth listening to. Oh please give me some classic rock, she pleaded to the little silver machine. As she searched through several stations that had wailing fiddles and twanging electric guitars, she finally found something. She put the radio down on her lap and started to sing along with the Who's 'Behind Blue Eyes.' She leaned back and folded her arms in front of her, thinking about William. She was moving her foot to the rhythm of the song, closing her eyes in split concentration between the song and the events when she finally sat up slowly, swinging her legs around the chair and holding the arms tightly. She was racking her brain as she tried to recollect what William had said to her in the hallway.

"I need you...come back to me," he had said. Was this the ghost from the bike path, she thought, feeling her face contort with amazement and wonder. Come back to me? Why do I need to come back to him? Why would a ghost appear to me, a ghost that obviously knows me and I him, and I leave him for some reason? First of all, she deducted, I would never leave a man like that. He is just too fine. Great hair, bod, eyes... "Mmm, those blue eyes!" she said to herself. "Amazing!" And sad. They looked so sad. She continued to think with confusion as she remembered those television shows that talked about ghost encounters. But if he were a ghost, how come I felt him in the hallway? Can you feel a ghost that way? Can you touch a ghost?

She sighed as she glanced at the clock. Only 11:30 P.M., she thought. She turned off her head set and took it off, placing it on the chair as she got up. She quietly took off her green dress and went to the bureau to change into her cut off Calvin Klein jean shorts, a "Mystic Pizza" T-shirt that she picked up in Connecticut, slipped on her number three scrunchie and her Keds and decided to go to the bar next door. I need a drink, and possibly a smoke, she deducted. She grabbed her white Gucci bag, the keys to the room and quietly went out the door. If he wakes up and finds me gone, I'll just tell him that I went for a walk, she thought to herself.

###

She made her way out of the hotel and onto the bustling street. There were people everywhere, laughing, talking loudly with thick southern accents out for the evening. It was Saturday night after all, she thought, and its early enough to get some partying in. As she approached "Chubbies," the only bar on the block and just a few doors down from the B&B, she noticed a small crowd gathered at the door. The huge doorman was having an apparent problem with under aged patrons.

As she got closer, he proceeded to gently push the minors out of the bar and looked at her and said firmly, "ID please."

"Uh, ok," she said, digging in her purse for her wallet. While she continued to dig in her good sized handbag, she noticed a woman approach her. She smiled at the lovely lady that seemed to wait behind her to get into the bar. The woman smiled warmly back at Savannah, tipping her head at the same time. The woman was about Savannah's age, or maybe younger since everyone seems to think that she's under aged, requiring her to pull out her ID to prove her true age.

This woman was lovely and exotic looking. She reminded Savannah of the character Freddie from the tv show, "A Different World." Her head had a thick coat of gorgeous black curly hair which was cut in a bob type of style. She was wearing a deep rich purple crinkle tank dress and matching ballet style shoes. Her rich olive complection was flawless, and the silver medallions on her neck shined beautifully against her skin. She noticed that one of the medallions was a huge star. Actually, a pentagram. She knew this because she herself wore a discreet and small one that belonged to her mother, which she put under her shirt quickly when she noticed that it was displayed while she dug for her ID. She never took it off, especially after her parents died. Her Aunt Rose told her that her father bought it for her mother, but she never got the chance to wear it. He bought it for her to wear for protection.

She finally found her wallet and presented her drivers' licence and her Illinois state ID for him to inspect.

"I'm a little far from home," she said. "Thought you would want to see more proof just in case," as she motioned her head to the minors that had to leave.

The beefy doorman inspected it, nodded and said, "Why, yes you are quite a way from home, little lady," with a twinkle in his eye and a thick southern accent. "Wow!" he commented. "You don't look a day over twenty, darlin'. You're all set. Go ahead."

She went in and was hit with the blaring sound of a Dwight Yokum song, the smell of stale beer, cigarette smoke and air conditioning. This place wasn't as crowded as she thought it would be, as she made her way up to the bar and ordered a beer and cigarettes.

"What kind of beer y'all want and what cigarettes do y'all smoke, darlin'?" the barmaid asked.

"Uh, do you have any imported beer, like Guinness?" she asked sitting down and hoping to get the dark stout that reminded her of Chicago.

The barmaid shrugged and said, "Amstel Light and Heinie, darlin'. You're not from here, are you?" she asked with a big smile.

She replied to the blond with black roots, "I'm from Chicago."

The woman smiled, mouthed "oh" with raised eyebrows and nodded at her. Savannah nodded back and said, "give me anything lite and non-menthol 100's please."

The barmaid presented her a bottle of the imported brew and placed a pack of cigarettes in front of her. She drank on her beer as soon as she got it and ripped open her pack of Marlboro Lite 100's and was about to ask the barmaid for matches when purple dress woman was next to her, lighter in hands awaiting for Savannah to light her cigarette. She lit her ciggie and thanked the woman. The woman climbed onto the bar stool next to Savannah and smiled back at her saying, "my pleasure, hon. You're not from here, are you? Oh my God!" she started quickly, putting her hand over her mouth and smiled widely. "That sounds like a pickup line and I sure as hell ain't trying to pick you up, darlin'. Just trying to be nice to a sistah." She had a beautiful smile and amazing deep brown eyes that lit up her face.

Savannah laughed wholeheartedly. "Don't worry. I know you're not trying to pick me up. At least I hope not, no offence, but you're not my type. I like men.." They both giggled as she continued. "No, I'm not from here. I'm Savannah and I'm from Chicago. And you are.." she asked, extending her hand to her.

"Hello Savannah from Chicago. I'm Raven. Raven Jones," she said, giving Savannah a cool, firm but a friendly handshake. "My folks were hippies. Daddy is black, momma is white, so they thought it would be a good idea to give me a name that would remind me of my skin color." She smiled broadly at Savannah, adding, "as if I would forget that! I would have settled for Aretha, if you ask me. I don't know why I feel compelled to tell that story. It's just that everyone gives me a funny look when I say my name. I was born in Georgia, speaking of Savannah. You here for the Solstice festival tomorrow?"

"No," Savannah said. "I'm here for Carolina Days. I participate in Revolutionary War reenactments. Well, I will for the first time tomorrow. I usually just watch, but it looked like so much fun, I wanted to get into the groove of it."

"Ah ha!" Raven said, pointing her long finger in Savannah's direction. "A living historian. I knew there was something spiritual about you! I felt it when I came behind you at the door while your little pink nose was in your...Gucci Bag." She smiled down at the purse, touching a finger onto the straps. "Girl, you are something else!" She giggled at herself.

Savannah smiled as she took her purse and caressed it. "Oh, this thing," she said. "My fiancé gave it to me for Christmas last year. He thought I should carry a classy bag with the classy position he'll have with whatever prestigious law firm he'll be with. And since I'm going into med school, I guess I should carry a fancy bag, no? Wouldn't want my patients to think that their Dr. is poor, now would I?"

Raven let out a wholehearted laugh and said, "honey, do not suffer to fashion. It stinks! Be yourself. That's why God and Goddess put us on this planet. So, you're a healer, hmm?"

Savannah looked a little puzzled after that remark and stated, "I suppose. I've never heard it put that way before. I do use herbs, but give me penicillin any day for infections."

The barmaid made her round back to the girls and Raven said, "two more. One for me and my new friend." The two looked at each other and smiled. Savannah felt a compulsion to touch the star around her own neck, hidden by her T-shirt.

"So," Raven started after a chug of beer, pointing to Savannah's shirt. "Is that a pizza restaurant in Chicago?"

"Oh, no," Savannah said. "It's a pizza joint in Connecticut. It's also the name of the movie. With Julia Roberts? Ever see it?"

"No," Raven said. "Never heard of it, nor her."

They paused and drank a couple of swigs of cool beer, Savannah taking a last drag of her smoke and putting it out. She was thinking about how can someone not ever hear of a Julia Roberts movie? Everyone knows who she is. She started to ponder about that, but heard a familiar tune and was bobbing her head side to side to it. "Oh man," she started. "I haven't heard this song in such a long time. Its funny, no?" Raven smiled back, not saying anything, but had a pensive look on her face.

They paused and drank some more, looked around for a while and sometimes at each other, smiling genuinely back to each other. Raven was mulling over how she should speak to her and if this is really the chosen one.

As Savannah started another cigarette she began to wonder how Dale would react if she brought herself back to the room baked. Or even just a bit tipsy. She chuckled at herself over this when Raven shook her head, thinking "oh, just ask her," as she put her hand on Savannah's arm and finally asked her, "are you in the craft, Savannah?" Savannah looked a little surprised at this.

"The craft? What's that?" she asked with confusion.

As Raven was about to answer, a guy with an awful blond mullet and denim clothes put his arms around both of them, breathing stale alcohol breath on them and looking at them both and slurred,

"Wowwie! Look at what I got. I got me one in vanilla, and one in chocolate!" He emitted spit as he spoke, which made the girls turn away in unison with looks of disgust on their faces.

Raven got up and politely took his arm off her shoulder, saying, "would you excuse me? I need to speak with my friend in private. You, I must say, are most charming, not!" She grabbed Savannah's arm and her purse and let her to the back of the bar. There were a couple of empty tables so she picked one and plopped Savannah's huge purse on it. "That man was so crude!" she said.

Savannah asked, "did he say what I thought I heard him say? That was so...yuk, gross!" she commented and then continued. "Did he think we were going to jump into bed with him over that tacky remark?"

"Girl," Raven started. "I hang with a lot of white folks and I get that crap all the time! I've almost become immune to them, but I don't want you to be bothered with that crap."

Savannah took note that she said 'crap' like she did. Cool, she thought. Someone on the same mind track as me. I like this babe already.

A waitress came by them and they gave her their order. As she went to get their beer, Savannah looked up at Raven and asked, "why did you ask if I was in the craft? What does that mean? Is that a southern medical term I don't know about?"

"No, honey," Raven said with a giggle. "It's witchcraft. Are you Wicca?"

Savannah felt a little uneasy since she really didn't know all that much about witchcraft, except the media's perception of it. It was, according to most, the devil's work. But Savannah was a bit more open minded. She didn't feel that way. Well, she did a bit.

She looked at Raven and asked, "why do you ask?" The waitress came with their order with Raven buying again. "Hey, don't," Savannah started but Raven interrupted her new friend.

"It's alright," she said as she put the rest of her money in her bra. "You can get the next round. Thank you," she replied.

"Thank you." Savannah responded, lighting another smoke with Ravens immediate assistance, blew out smoke and asked, "is that why you wear the pentagram?"

Raven fingered the silver medallion and said, "yes, it is. So do you. That's why I asked." Savannah reached for her throat and felt that the little star she wore was visible again much to her surprise. She could have sworn she tucked it under her T-shirt. "I see something in your eyes, Savannah. It's a blessing! I can't quite tell what you do have, but I have the feeling. Its even in my bones. There is something about you, girl, and you don't even know it. I want to help you find it, if you'll let me. I promise I will never do anything to hurt or scare you. I will protect you through this journey."

Savannah looked confused at her friend and asked, "help me? What journey? Why would I need help? Or protection for that matter? I hold four black belts in karate, and I've taught it, so I don't need help or protection with...anything."

Raven, being careful not to burn herself with the lit cigarette took Savannah's hands into her own, holding them with warmth and friendship and sighing, as if she had a hard time saying what she had to say. "Savannah," she started. "I know you can take care of yourself, but I have something really important to tell you."

Savannah put her cigarette into the ashtray, put her hands back into Ravens and leaned closer to give her full attention to her new friend. "OK, Raven," she said with great interest and slight amusement. "What is it?"

Raven paused, looked around briefly and said, "I have been sent here from a long time ago to bring you back to him. He needs you...he wants you to come back."

Savannah jerked her hands back quickly, as if Raven's were live electrical wires sparking her arms with tingling and throbbing jolts. I must be dreaming, or had too many beers, she thought. I out drank sailors at the Baja Beach Club, she thought. It can't be the beer.

She put her hands behind her head and asked hoarsely, "who..who..uh, who's that, Raven?"

Raven looked at her and tilted her head to one side, saying, "Why, William, Savannah. That's who."

###

Savannah was in shock. She must have been, because Raven was shaking her, calling her.

"Savannah! Savannah! Come on girl. Don't fall apart on me here now. I need to get you back in one piece, especially your mind. Get it together now, girl." Savannah nodded in comprehension, then felt the compulsion to chug the bottle of beer, which she did as Raven shook her head and continued. "Come on, I..." she was interrupted by vanilla chocolate guy putting his arm over her shoulders.

"Hey now," he started. "Why did y'all leave me all alone back there? That was really rude. Hey," he said, pointing a crooked finger with a beer can in the same hand at Savannah's hair. "You a race fan? I'm a race car driver. I know Dale Earnhardt personally. He taught me everything I know."

"Really?" she asked. "The Dale Earnhardt? The Intimidator? The Man in Black?"

Vanilla chocolate guy stood up somewhat in his drunken stupor and beamed with false pride and replied, "the one and only, darlin'."

Savannah cocked her head to the side and asked, "so, what series do you drive in?"

"Huh?" he asked. "Do what now? Whatcha mean what series?"

Savannah continued. "Oh, you know, Winston Cup? Busch series? The Craftsman Truck series? Which one?" Thank God for Dale's love of NASCAR, she thought. Maybe this will get rid of him.

"Well," he drawled. "Why do ya ask?"

"Well," she replied. "What's your number? Who's your sponsor? And what kind of vehicle do you drive?"

"Since you're so curious, I've driven in the Winston Cup series."

"Well," Savannah started. "First of all, you don't look like any of the Winston Cup drivers I know of since I am quite a fan of the sport, therefore I know who everyone is. And besides, if you're really a NASCAR driver, why are you way down here partying? Aren't they racing in Sonoma, California tomorrow?"

He stood somewhat straight and glared at her, saying, "you are quite the smartass, darlin'. You need a spanking and I'm..."

Raven interrupted him, gave him a look that made him freeze in his tracks. "You know, as stimulating as this conversation is, we really need to go. Let's go, hon."

She got up and grabbed Savannah's purse and arm, pushing past pseudo race car driver, whose mouth was agape. She still had Savannah's purse and hand as she led her out of the bar.

As they went out of the bar, Raven led Savannah opposite of the B&B and muttered under her breath, "ugh, that man, what a creep! Gross! And ugly too!"

Savannah stopped abruptly, trying to pull her hand out of Raven's grasp but failing miserably. She said, "forget about that maroon, he's full of crap! He doesn't drive professionally. He wouldn't even give me his car number. He hasn't got a clue even if he bought one at a KMart blue light sale." Noticing that she was being dragged against her will, she shrieked, "Raven! Stop pulling me!"

Raven turned to her, not letting go of her hand and asked, "what? What's wrong? Oh." She realized she was pulling Savannah as she cocked her head to the side, letting her dark brown curls cascade over her cheek and let Savannah go abruptly, slowly gave her swaying Gucci back and asked curiously, "what's KMart blue light sale?"

Savannah gave her an incredulous look, saying, "what's wrong? First of all, I've either had too much to drink or this is just a weird dream or..." she paused, looking for the right words. "Either there's something in the tobacco I just smoked, or this is an episode of the Twilight Zone! You may have just proved to me that the apparition I saw today was real by telling me that he needs me...and...that I probably saw him at this party I was at earlier tonight...and...and..." She was about to mention her vision of him on the jog path when she realized something else quite strange. She asked in shock, "you've never heard of KMart?"

"Savannah," Raven said reassuringly as she put her hands in a prayer position, as if she was begging to be listened to. "Please don't panic, honey. I know that this sounds insane, but you have to believe me. The Goddess chose me to find you for him. I don't know why. We usually don't ask questions when we have tasks given to us. We really should go somewhere to talk. Let's go by the beach, alright?"

She was now holding both of Savannah's hands. Savannah noticed that despite they were cool and trying to be comforting, they had callouses on them, like from hard work. Savannah raised their hands together in prayer fashion and looked up, seeing the moon, which was almost ripe at its complete fullness. She felt tears falling down her face which made her pull her hand out of Raven's to wipe them away. Why the hell am I crying, she thought to herself as she looked at Raven, whose face was covered with a look of concern. And this Raven babe, she continued to think to herself. How does she know me, and about William?

She looked behind her and asked, "do you think that jerk from the bar will follow us?" Raven shook her head and said, "I took care of him." This made Savannah widen her eyes and make Raven laugh out loud. "Oh, Savannah," she said between a giggle. "God and the Goddess are on our side. They helped me get rid of him. He won't follow us. I promise. No one will hurt you."

"Alright Raven," Savannah said with a big sigh. "Let's talk. I know where we can go." She took Raven's hand and led her to the boardwalk where she had first seen William.

###

They were sitting on a slab of concrete on the jog path where she first saw William. "Over there," Savannah said, pointing to the left. "I was riding my bike early this morning, and he came up to me."

Raven looked up the path and sighed as Savannah continued her story. She knew she was babbling, but at this point, she didn't care. "He told me he needed me to come back to him. Why? Why is he asking for me? I'm engaged. I have a life. I'll be going to med school in the fall. I have a whole life ahead of me. What am I supposed to do, go back in time in Marty McFly's time machine?"

Raven opened her mouth, about to answer but looked confused and asked, "who's Marty McFly? Does he really have a time machine? Does it work? Can we use it?"

"No Raven, its from a movie." Savannah replied with amusement.

Raven raised an eyebrow at her and said with a sigh, "I really do need to see a movie. Everyone tells me about these things or expressions and people that are in movies. I know what a movie is, I just have never seen one."

Savannah looked at her, shook her head in amazement and laughed. "So, what are you, a guardian angel or witch or...something?" she asked.

"Well," Raven began. "Something like that. I don't know if you'll believe me if I told you what I was, or...am."

"At this point, I'll believe that you're the pope. Try me." Savannah said.

"Well," Raven began. "I was born in Georgia in 1764. My mother, the only daughter of a very wealthy British plantation owner in New Orleans' got pregnant by one of her slaves, who was into voo-doo. You know what voo-doo is?" Savannah nodded as Raven continued. "My grandfather, also a Loyalist, was a very good friend of Lord Cornwallis. Well, just before the French and Indian war began, my grandfather sent my mother with all she had including me in her belly. He wanted to send us to Boston with relatives, but men don't seem to know anything about women, especially that a baby usually arrives nine months after the fact. I was born en route to Charleston in Savannah, Georgia. Grandfather had friends there, so we stayed until it was safe enough for us to travel to Charleston. So, here is my mother with a newborn baby and all her worldly possessions living in Georgia. Sometime after the French and Indian War, we eventually arrived Charleston, in late winter 1780. Lord Cornwallis was quite upset with my grandfather for sending two young ladies and their servants through such hostile territory. He also thought it would be unsafe to send us up to Boston, what with the whole tea party thing and the colonists constantly causing trouble for British subjects. Besides, he hated Boston. The colonists up there were fighting against King George and it just didn't make sense to him to send us with all that trouble going on, so he kept us with him in Charleston, taking care of my mother as if she were his own daughter, since my grandfather didn't seem to care for her, especially since she ruined herself by getting pregnant before marrying, and by a slave, especially one that wasn't Christian."

Savannah felt her eyes wonder in amazement as Raven continued.

"Lord Cornwallis had a residence set up as he was in love with Charleston after he had taken it over. He was hardly at the manor since he was on the battlefield constantly but my mother and I as well as some of the officers and their wives lived there. Charleston was a very important port back then, so everyone from England would either land there or up north in Boston, or New York. When more British soldiers came to Charleston, he moved from his old home and took permanent residence at Middleton Place. He continued to treat my mother like his own daughter, but had me wait on the ladies of the manor. I suppose it's because of my skin color. I took care of the officer's wives, daughters, even the babies. I was the lady in waiting, the nanny. You may as well as call me a slave for all the work that I did with the white folks."

Savannah was taking this all in with interest, asking "so, the whole hippie parent thing isn't true?"

Raven shook her head and continued, "I just used that so I didn't frighten you, but I guess it didn't work." She turned around and faced Savannah and said, "now, I don't want to bore you with the details as to how and why I got here, but I do know that you need to get back somehow." She gave her a curious glance and asked, "are you familiar with South Carolina?"

"No, not really," Savannah said shaking her head. "Where do I have to go? Should I bring my stuff? When do I come back?" she asked dazedly. "I have a reenactment to do tomorrow, so it's a bad time for me to jet set back in time, Raven."

She could not believe what was happening to her. This was all a bad dream and she wished she would wake up and feel herself snuggled next to Dale. Despite their earlier fight, she felt so relieved that he just lay asleep a few steps away from here. Her face of reality, she thought to herself.

"Savannah," she said sternly. " You need to do this tomorrow because it's the Summer Solstice. It's a fire holiday and the veil between the spiritual world and the..." she broke off hesitatingly, then continued. "The real world is quite thin you're able to make spiritual connections easily. But God's power is strong, and He will take care of you. You need to go to this field that is not far from where the reenactment is. It's at the edge of a small creek next to a farm. That's the old Martin farm. You can't miss it. You won't miss it, trust me and your own feelings. There stands a tremendously large pine tree, with branches that look like fingers reaching for the clouds. Face the front of the tree. It is a part of the world with such strong spirit. Why, I do not know. You must go there as close to 2:00PM because that is when the moon will be full and at its peak and in Mars, which is needed for this journey. It's like astral projection. Have you ever heard of astral projection?" Savannah shook her head with wide eyes, still not believing a word she was hearing, but Raven shrugged it off, saying, "oh, that's alright. Don't worry 'bout that. Your journey will also be in the sign of Aries, which will help you stay strong, healthy and safe in your travels. I know this may sound crazy to you, but you must believe me. Please believe me, because you must go now. The next time you can do this is will be on Samhain of 2001. The moon will be full then, for the first time in forty years. The power will be amazing then, almost bringing you immediately to William. But for some reason, it must be now." She said an emphasis on now. "I don't know if you'll help the outcome of the war, I don't know if you'll help invent something in the medical field or save someone, I DON'T KNOW! All I know is that you must go there tomorrow. Don't disappoint me, William, or your fate."

With that, she got up and kissed Savannah sisterly and fast on her mouth. "And don't disappoint God and Goddess. Until tomorrow, madam..." she started to walk into the direction of where Savannah first saw William. Raven stopped suddenly and said, "wear your reenactment clothes. Bring very little, and don't worry about an alibi....when the time comes, you'll be able to think of what to say when the situation arrives. Goddess has made sure of that, to protect you. And one more thing," she started cautiously and pointed at her. "Aside from me, don't trust any woman with your story, not one woman. Trust no other woman but me." She smiled, turned slowly and continued her journey down the bike path, which was getting fogged over with the vapor mist off of the ocean.

###

Savannah watched Raven walk until she disappeared. This is insane! I feel like I'm going back to Pleasantville, she thought to herself sarcastically. She sat for what seemed like an eternity with shock. Wear my reenactment clothes? What else would I wear to a reenactment? How will I know what to do? I have to try to settle things with Dale, but this is huge. But what if I can't come back? What do I do, stay in 1780, if this is all true, but it feels like a weird dream. I can't believe what...ahh..she thought. Forget it. My brain hurts. I need to get back to my room. I do have a big day tomorrow. Actually, she interrupted herself, today I have a big day as she slowly made her way back to her hotel room.

She slowly walked down the bike path and right behind her, a mist of fog swirled after her, as if motioning with fingers for her to come back. I need you...come back, it whispered. She would follow something eventually. When it would be could be anyone's guess.

###

She closed the door quietly behind her as she walked into her hotel room. The only sound was Dale snoring away. How can that creep sleep so soundly after all that happened earlier, she thought. He has some nerve. She went into the bathroom and undressed quickly. Thank God her nightgown was still here, folded on the sink's counter. The maid probably did that, she thought. She threw her clothes in the corner just outside the bathroom. Closing the door, she then turned on the shower and jumped in. Turning the hot water up, she murmured to herself. Feeling good, this hot water on my body. She was mulling over what Raven said about doing this now when she heard the door of the bathroom open. She was still facing the shower head when she heard the shower curtain open slowly.

"Darlin'," Dale said as he peeked into the shower and looking at her with a sleepily confused expression. "What's wrong? Why in the world are you showering at 2:00 in the morning?" He scratched his bed head as he waited for her to answer.

2:00 AM, she thought. Exactly twelve hours before she was to maybe meet her new destiny.

"I couldn't sleep," she replied, not turning to look at him.

"I'm sorry darlin'," he said. "I didn't want to hurt you. I shouldn't have said those mean things about you in front of the girls. It'll never happen again. I promise, alright?" He sighed deeply, scratched his bed head again and said, "come to bed when you're done. I'll rub your back. That usually puts you out."

She finally turned to him with a nod as he smiled at her before he closed the curtain and went back to bed.

Bite me, she thought. Hurt me? You didn't hurt me that badly. I don't care! How dare you presume so much? Well, she thought. I'll go to the reenactment by myself if I can. Maybe I'll even do the...what did Raven call it...astral something...projection! That's it. It'll never happen. She finished her shower, putting her oil on and patting the water that remained on her body. She slipped the nightgown over her head and went to lay next to Dale, not thinking that this may be the last time she ever saw him.

###

The alarm went off at 5:00 AM, but Savannah turned it off in a sleepy stupor, ignoring her workout and falling back to sleep. She was awaken three hours later by a knock on the door. Savannah woke up, looking around as if she were lost. Wait, she thought. Did I dream what happened yesterday? What a horrible dream, rubbing her head which was throbbing at the temples. She looked at her engagement ring, which was still on her left fourth finger when the knock came again, making her jump. She went to the door and peered through the peek hole and saw Dr. Martin in front of the door. Holy crap, she said to herself, grabbing one of Dale's Polo shirts and pulling it over her head. He's a doctor for God's sake, she thought to herself. Like he's never seen a woman half naked.

She put a hand through her hair and opened the door. Dr. Martin looked at her in surprise and asked, "oh, sweetheart, did I wake you? I'm sorry, but don't you have to register for the reenactment?"

"Good morning, doctor. I had a late night. I went out for a couple of drinks and...I think I have a hangover," she said as she rubbed her temples, which made him chuckle. "Won't you come in?" she said. "I can get Dale up."

"No sweetheart," he said. "I really should see you with out him, if you don't mind. Oh, don't worry, sweetheart," he said, noticing her look of concern. "I just have a few questions to ask you about yesterday, if you don't mind," he said. Where can we go to talk?"

They were together in the sitting room as the doctor took her blood pressure and her pulse, which were perfect. He listened intently while Savannah told him about the apparition, but spared him the details of Raven and her quest to reunite William with Savannah. Wouldn't want him to put a straightjacket on me, she thought to herself.

"Well," the doctor. began. "There have been reports of spiritual activity in this area for as long as I can remember, thanks to the many battles that were fought here. When you mentioned Colonel Tavington, I remembered a story that my great grandfather told me and my grandfather. He was a ruthless soldier. He killed one or two, I don't remember how many of my seven times grandfather's sons, without a care in the world. His name was Colonel William Tavington. He's even in history books. They called him, "the butcher," along with another officer named Tarleton. Benjamin Martin, my distant relative, was the head of the militia that fought along side Francis Marion's militia for freedom from the British. For some reason, the name Tavington has stuck in my mind for many years. And as I said, when you mentioned Tavington, I declare I almost tripped on my open jaw."

"Did Colonel Tavington die in battle?" she asked.

"I don't know what happened to him, dear," he said, patting her arm, noticing her concern. "For all I know, he may have just rotted in England after we chased the Brits out. Well," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "I was just a little concerned for you. You may have had an actual spiritual intervention, but why at my house is a question I cannot answer. I would not be surprised, though. Happens to someone everyday. Don't worry about it. I believe in ghosts and I believe you. But I wouldn't tell too many people this story, unless they are 'ghostbusters' or something like that. They may need a proton pack for something like this." He smiled at the last sentence and at her giggling when he caught a glance at his watch, saying, "well, I should let you get ready for the festivities. I wouldn't want you to be late. Do come by later and let us know how everything went. I've always wanted to do this, but when you're a doctor. you just don't have the time to even think for yourself."

"I understand," Savannah began. "I was a nurse for almost two years and was going to get my masters degree, but I've decided that I want to be the doctor instead of a nurse practitioner. When I studied for the Mcats, I was a wreck! I think I even wet my bed!"

"Mcats?" Dr. Martin asked. "Are you in med school or an MD?"

She gave him a surprised look. "Didn't Dale tell you I'm going to med school at Stanford in the fall? I thought he surely had told you?" she asked.

"No, he hadn't. Stanford University? That is quite impressive, sweetheart!" he exclaimed. He cocked his head and had a puzzled look on his face as he asked, "how old are you again? I believe Dale told me, but I don't remember."

She replied, "I'll be thirty in March."

He gave her an incredulous look and replied, "why, you don't look a day over twenty! How do you do it?"

She shrugged with a smile and said, "I work out almost every day. I drink plenty of water and I've been having an affair with a plastic surgeon."

He laughed out loud at this, saying with enthusiasm, "well, after I saw Dale's angry expression about the colonel, I don't think that it's a good idea to tell him about the plastic surgeon, not that the colonel is a ghost of sorts. Let him sweat about that one." They both laughed out loud as he continued, "I declare, Stanford. That's wonderful! I can't believe Dale didn't tell me. Let me extend my congratulations!" He smiled warmly and got up to hug her firmly yet fatherly as he continued, "Stanford has a wonderful medical school. One of my colleagues is from the Bay Area and had attended Stanford. You should meet him before you return to Chicago. I'll set it up." She nodded in agreement as he continued, "very hard medical school program to get into, so you are quite a smart cookie! We do need more women doctors and I wish you the best! I look forward to seeing you this evening, and if you can, wear your pretty outfit from the reenactment, sweetheart. You know Gabriel, don't you?" he asked as she nodded in reply.

"I met him twice," she said. "He visited Dale in Chicago and got us in to the World Series for the last game last year. And we partied with some of the players."

He laughed and said, "well, Gabriel does some of the player's finances, and he should be in from New York tonight unless something keeps him away. He too will get a kick out of your little hobby, especially you wearing your dress." He tilted his head to the side, giving her a sweet, fatherly look, saying, "I feel a sort of kinship to you, Savannah. I know we'll be close, like family. I don't know why, but I just do. You're like a daughter to me. I am quite proud of you. Too bad you aren't marrying Gabriel," he said with a wink, "but we love Dale as well. He too is like a son to me. Well, until, tonight," he clapped his hands once, bowed slightly and took her hand, kissing it. "My dear, you are a treasure. I hope Dale knows that. Please don't forget to see me tonight."

"I won't doctor," she said. She saw him out but not without giving him a small hug and a quick kiss on the cheek and running to dress for her reenactment, feeling a little giddy and excited for the first time since she arrived. She gently shook Dale, who stirred, looked at the clock which said 9:00 and looked up to her, murmuring, "don't tell me its revolution time?"

###

She looked beautiful! Her hooped riding habit was a rich purple with emerald bows on the bottom at the hem. It was lined with purple lace and was a little itchy, especially at the arms, which stopped just short of her elbow, but she didn't mind. She was too excited as she adjusted her breasts. Its neckline curved slightly, giving way to a little cleavage. Thank God for Wonder Bras, she thought. The stomacher and bodice made the ensemble' somewhat complete. With her undergarments, she tried to go as authentic as possible, to an extent, of course. She wore sheer silk stockings instead of the thick, white cotton ones which were held up with a silk purple garter belt. She wore her best cotton panties which were basic white. Her shoes were a little of discussion. They were her white canvas Keds that had a slight platform. Good to stand in all day, she thought when she put them on. Besides, my dress is long enough to cover them. The dress was made of silk, which was a perfect breathable material to help her deal with the heat and humidity that was called for the day. She put her hair up on each side with a barrette that was a rich iridescent purple and green combo, perfect for the ensemble, which gave her a red head Scarlett O'Hara look.

She packed her hand made matching purse with her essentials; a bottle of water, her headphones with a couple of tapes, her small Gucci wallet with money, her registration form for the reenactment, lip balm, hand cream, a small and full bottle of Tylenol, her cigarettes, some candy and Gatorade gum when she became thirsty and she would be able to secretly pop a piece into her mouth. She threw in a small pad of paper from the B&B with a couple of ink pens just in case she met some fellow enthusiasts that she may want to keep in touch with for future events or maybe just a pen pal. She also had the essential necessities as far as makeup was concerned. She threw in a t-shirt and shorts just in case she wanted to change out there instead of coming all the way back to the hotel room, but remember that Dr. Martin wanted her to show Gabriel her dress, so she pulled them out, making her bag much lighter. I wish I could pack a couple of cold brews in here, she thought. Guinness please, she joked to herself and chuckled. And I hope to God Jason is there, she continued to think as she put her matching tri-corn hat on, realizing that she hadn't heard from him still. I will murderize him if he blows me off.

Dale emerged from the bathroom in a shorts outfit that rivaled the one he wore yesterday, as it looked even more like what Andre' Agassi would wear to the U.S. Open.

He looked at her with wide eyes and smiled, "frankly my dear, I do give a damn!" which made her give him a confused look as she corrected with a smirk,

"Wrong war again, Dale."

"Wow! You look great!" he commented excitedly.

She finished adjusting her small tri-corn hat, extended her hand out to him as he took it and did a little dance for him, the sound of the petticoats swooshing with every turn she made. Dale continued,

"You, my dear, will be the belle of the reenactment, I declare, or the battle field, or...the British, or the hospital or wherever you'll be."

She didn't saying anything to him, but gave him a sexy smile. She modeled her exquisite outfit, which was put together by her and a couple of the girls she met in her building, who were students at Columbia College. One of the girls, Leslie, had dated Jason a year before, but that didn't work out, thus they remained friends. The two ladies wanted to be dress designers for movie sets, but their major was partying. Dale didn't care for them and their partying tendencies, so Savannah didn't bother to tell him until the day they arrived at Charleston that they helped her figure out how to work her sewing machine. He thought she was a genius for figuring it out herself.

"I just need a bottle of OJ and maybe a bagel and we'll be off," she said.

"Darlin'," he started. Then said with a 'rapper's tone, "I'm going to go with you to register. I won't be there when the haps...go down."

She hated when he tried to be 'ghetto' because a white guy doing that was just lame.

"Alright, Dale," she said sarcastically. "You aren't ethnic enough, so stop with the MTV jive. You always get on my butt about my English. What the hell was that all about?"

He smiled at her as she rolled her eyes at him and said caustically, "I should have known that you would change your mind about doing this with me. You should go to Middleton Place and find out when the tours are tomorrow. You're going to take me to that, no matter what. I can go register for the show by myself. I'll see you later." She turned, walking away from him and out the door.

"Wait!" he said. "I said I would go with you to register, but I'm going to leave to play tennis with the Martins. By the way, did Doc Martin come by this morning?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "We talked and he looked me over. I have a clean bill of health. He wants me to come over afterwards to tell him and Gabriel how everything went."

"That's great, darlin', and we will. You'll tell them everything. Gabe is going to get such a kick out of it since he's quite the history buff as well. You'll have so much fun," he said somewhat enthusiastically.

They made their way to the lobby where Dale put coins into the soda dispenser and bought a Minute Maid orange juice for Savannah, handed it to her and let her out of the hotel. As they walked down the street, they received enthusiastic whispers of "look at her," and hoots and hollers from all over.

"Hey baby!" a man's voice shouted. "Show us some leg!"

Savannah stopped, placed her juice into her purse, looked toward where the guy that hollered the last remark and reciprocated by showing a gartered leg, striking an exaggerated pose and a smile a mile wide. Wooos, yeahs, oooh baby sounds and "nice shoes" comments came from all around with hilarious laughter and flashes from the cameras of several spectators, making Dale roll his eyes with aggravation as he grabbed her by the arm with a little bit of anger, pulling her to where the shuttle buses for the festivities were.

###

They were at the bustling area of registration for the reenactment when Dale turned to her, saying, "darlin', the reenactment doesn't start for another hour, so why don't you register and I'll wait for you with something to eat, alright?"

She gave him her empty juice bottle and nodded. "Uh, ok. Nothing too greasy or fried in bacon grease, ok honey? I need carbs. And grab me another OJ, and water!" she called to him as he went off, waving in response.

She was in line for about half an hour, so she noticed on the gold Bulova watch Dale bought her for Christmas last year. She looked around and saw all the elaborate costumes that everyone wore. Both sides of the Revolutionary War were hurrying about, joking and laughing with each other, comparing their genuine Brown Bess's and commenting on the authenticity of each others costumes as if they were all attending the world's biggest Halloween party. Or the Renaissance Faire, without the bad Olde English the Americans attempted on speaking here with their southern accents. She thought she saw about fifty George Washingtons and about ten Betsy Ross's. One Betsy Ross even held a sewing kit with an old American flag draped over her shoulder, which made her chuckle and say, "very cool" outloud, getting a huge smile back from Ms. Ross, who nodded in appreciation and said, "I thank you, miss."

Children were dressed like minutemen with little drum sets, triangle hats, white tights and even a few authentic queues on several toddler boys. They let those little boys grow their hair so long, she thought to herself as she looked over the toddlers running and beating their drums in their amazing costumes. Little did they really know what happened back then, she thought seriously to herself. These little guys would know how to work a musket, even at that age.

She continued to look around smiling at the participants and the amazing costumes when she caught her breath. She could have sworn she just saw Raven. How could she forget that head of beautiful hair, she thought to herself. Raven was by herself and wearing a tan and brown short sleeved cotton dress with petticoats, walking toward a field where the registrars were sending several British participants. She disappeared within the crowd as Savannah was straining to see her. She was about four people behind the next person when she felt Dale's presence behind her.

"Lunch time! You haven't been registered yet, darlin'?" he asked.

"Duh. You still see me in line, don't you, dope?" she said. "I'm up pretty soon. Took you long enough, didn't it?" she asked, suddenly forgetting about Raven.

"Well," he said. "I ran into Susan Martin. She sure can talk."

Savannah said, "Oh? I'm sure."

He apparently doesn't remember what happened last night she thought to herself and rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't worry, we just talked. She can't believe that you're doing this. She said that was so cool. She wants to hear all about it tonight, especially since she didn't have the opportunity to chat you last night."

Well, she thought. I guess he does remember what happened last night. "See," he said, pointing an elbow at her. "I told you that you would impress them. You always end up doing just that." He was beaming a huge smile at her.

"Well," Savannah started. "If she wants to be bored to death, she is more than welcome to hear of my happenings today. No one would be happier if she were killed by boredom or anything else than me," she said.

"Savannah," Dale said. "Hate is so unattractive."

"So are black roots. By the way, nice line, Dale. Where did you get it?" she asked.

"Hmmm.." he said. "A little redhead used to say it to me all the time way back when. I wonder who that was?"

She shook her head, "very funny, you comedian." she drawled. "When we get home, you are grounded from watching Seinfeld. You seem quite chipper now. Must be the blond break you just had. You do know," she continued. "they are bottle blonds. They have roots blacker than Alex Haleys. They also are in desperate need of a deep conditioning."

"Ha, ha Savannah," he said dryly. "Very funny. Not everyone can have perfect hair like you. Here," He handed her a bottle of OJ. "Save your jaw muscles for eating something," he stated as he was reaching into a white paper bag and shoving a toasted bagel her direction.

"Mmmm.." she said. "Don't mind if I do." She helped herself to the small buffet Dale brought her. He actually found bagels and cream cheese for her. Probably from one of the hotels, she thought. If that isn't sweet, I don't know what is, she thought sarcastically to herself as she bit into the bagel. He had bacon, home fries, bagels with cream cheese, OJ and two small bottles of water, which she stuffed in her already full purse.

"Thank God I made this bag big, no?" she asked.

"Hmm..." he said. "Go on, darlin', you're next!" as he pushed her gently ahead, her dress making a swooshing sound from the silk petticoats as she quickly stuffed her brunch back into the paper bag, handing it quickly to Dale and wiped her hands with a napkin.

"Name, please," said the tired voice of a minuteman with a BIC pen in his hand.

"Fabré. Savannah Fabré," she replied, still wiping her hands on a paper napkin, but out of nervousness. "From Chicago, Illinois. I'm on the chair from Loyola's History Department."

He looked through what seemed to be a phone book and found her name, jotted down a few numbers and letters and told her, "ah, someone from the other side. Shit, its about time. So sick of all these Americans." She gave him a look when he used such colorful language. He must be exhausted and fed up with the idiots out here, she thought to herself with a little snicker. He looked up at her with a smirk, saying, "sorry, had a rough morning, and it seems that no one wants to play the British. Ok, anyone from their local chair with the British is to report to the general of the Loyalist side next to the old Martin farm. He's a Red Coat General. I believe his character is Cornwallis, I dunno, I forget. His real name is Jack Lennon. Don't comment on the name," he added quickly, noticing her chuckle as he rolled his eyes and continued with a smirk. "He hears it all time and he gets really cranky about it. He'll tell you where to go and what to do." He smiled at her as he handed her a few papers and she thanked him.

She was about to turn away when she asked the young man, "oh. My friend is supposed to be here. Has Jason Gibson arrived?" The young man went over the paperwork quickly, then shook his head.

"No dear," he replied. "Not yet. He is on the list. You're the only one from Chicago so far." She nodded, thanked him again and turned, going on her way with Dale right next to her. They found a slightly remote place to sit and finish eating.

"What time does this all start?" Dale asked her.

Savannah looked over the papers and replied blankly, "oh, about 1:00." She sighed loudly as she read her form, which had typed in bold print; 'BRITISH PARTICIPANTS ON THE CHAIR OF THEIR LOCAL SOCIETY/LIVING HISTORY ASSOCIATION MEET WITH JACK LENNON/GENERAL CORNWALLIS BY OLD MARTIN BARN' and rolled her eyes. This made her think about her encounter with Raven.

As he was munching on some bacon he looked over her shoulder and said, "oh, the old haunted farmhouse! Oooooh...scary! Boo."

She cast a glance at Dale and asked quietly, "what's so scary about it?" He was eating another piece of bacon as she looked at him and asked, "you don't want to stick around and see me get my butt kicked by colonists?"

"Nah!" he said. "I know who won the war. I'm reminded every day by my girl. It's like when you dragged me to see Titanic. I know what happens. The darn boat sinks." She rolled her eyes at him as he said with a chuckle, "let's finish eating and we can walk around a bit, then I'll let you go. I want to get that tennis game in, and then try to get to the beach. I'll find you when it's over. I know where the old Martin farm is. It's supposed to be haunted."

She turned and looked at him blankly, asking "haunted? By what?"

"Duh!" he said, mimicking one of her many remarks. "Ghosts, silly! Finish lunch."

###

Leave it to the south to play country music, even at a war reenactment. They were able to hear the sounds of the biggest country music radio station in Charleston that was covering the festivities.

After they threw the remnants of their lunch away, tossing the big empty water bottle into her purse, they walked around for a while, listening to the blaring sounds of various top forty country acts and commenting on every costume that made their way. They were laughing out loud with Dale saying "aw" at the children that were made up in such elaboration with their little drum sets and "pony tails" and even getting a chance to see the smiling and adorable Betsy Ross with her flag and sewing kit, who smiled knowingly at Savannah and nodded to each other. This reminds me of the Ren Faire, Dale had mentioned as he looked around in awe at how everyone was dressed.

"Do weapons have to be peace-tied?" he asked. She nodded, saying, "yes. All of these reenactments require that swords or sabre's be sheathed and peace-tied, as far as I know." Dale nodded as he led her toward Martin's Field. They finally walked to her spot. Dale turned to her and pointed ahead of them saying, "your place is just up there. Have a great time, darlin', I know you will. I'll find you. I promise. I'm just going to take the shuttle back since it's running every hour back and forth until 11:00 PM." He gave her a kiss, which turned passionate. He wrapped his arms around her waist, she around his neck as she dutifully responded to his kiss. Hearing someone say, "woo," she pulled away from him, looked up to eyes and sighed.

"Dale," she said. "What the hell am I going to do with you?" He kissed her again. She felt affection, but not the usual excitement he gives her whenever he kissed her.

"Aw, darlin', just love me as much as I love you. That's all I ask." He let her go slowly, lingering a glance at her, almost as if it were the last time that he would see her and replied with a smile, "have fun, and remember that I still love you very much!"

"What do you mean you still love me?" she asked him.

"Well," he began in hesitation. "I thought that maybe you doubted my love for you after last night."

She rolled her eyes at him saying, "Dale, don't be ridiculous! I know you love me. Duh! I just think you overreacted. I still think we should discuss this as soon as I get back." She smiled at him, blowing him a kiss and him ignoring his usual act of trying to catch it with huge effort.

"We'll see. Maybe after we see the Martins. See you in a few hours, oh!" he said as he started to walk away. "Tell Jason if he wants to hang out with us at the Martins, he can come." He nodded to her with a smile, blowing her a kiss as he went and was about twenty feet from her. He then looked back at her, smiling at her affectionately. She smiled back and waved to him, not knowing that what was about to happen to her was indeed a miracle beyond words.

###

Savannah had finished one of her waters when she found her way to "Martin's Field." It was an old and abandoned farm that was next to a creek. Creek! Raven! Oh man. I need to stay with the play, she thought. As she made her way through the field, she noticed that she was on the British side. She noticed some elaborate as well as cheaply made Red Coat costumes. She asked several of the lobster backs where she can find Mr. Lennon. Mr. Lennon, she snickered to herself. I am dying to ask if he's related to you know who.

When she finally found him, she deducted that he looked like the kind of person you don't want to ask anything of. He had an aggravated expression on his face. He was dressed elaborately, medals, weapons, white wig and all. This is supposed to be fun General Lennon, she thought as she approached him with her paperwork, overhearing someone call him "Cornwallis," who said as he noticed Savannah approaching him, "all women report to Ms. Saunders. She's by the creek. Just go right ahead over there," he said, pointing to his right. "She'll tell you where to go."

Oh man, Savannah thought. I hate being spoken to like I'm such an idiot. This is supposed to be fun, so why do it if it bugs you so much.

She started walking with the exodus of women. One in particular, a very young women with deep blue eyes and jet black hair pulled up noticed Savannah and went up to her enthusiastically, saying in a perky voice and a thick, southern accent, "Hi. I'm Julie. We're supposed to be nurses for the British wounded. They call us 'mollies,' or something like that. Is this your first reenactment? It's my first one. Nice dress! It's silk, isn't it? It's beautiful! Did y'all make it or did ya buy it? How do ya like mine? I bought it. Well, I had it made for me just for this, but had to pay for it, so I guess I bought it. Looks authentic, no?" Giggling like a school girl, she took her skirts and twirled them, making her petticoats swoosh loudly.

"Yes," Savannah said, nodding her head in a rapid circle and smiling. "This is my first one too. Yes to all of your questions. Where's this Ms. Saunders gal? We have to report to her."

"Where y'all from?" Julie asked, pausing a moment as she tilted her head to one side and looked completely interested in Savannah.

"I'm from Chicago," she replied with a smile. "You from Charleston, Julie?"

"Yeah," the young lady replied happily. "All my life. Are you just visiting or are you moving down here?"

"I'm just here for the reenactment," Savannah said, feeling her smile widen as she watched Julie jump around like a baby colt.

"Well," Julie said breathlessly, "Enjoy your visit with us, Savannah. Let's go find this Ms. Saunders lady!" She was a little too hyper for Savannah, she thought as she noticed that Julie was skipping happily ahead of her.

As they started toward the creek, someone called Julie. She told Savannah to go on with out her, she'll meet her at he hospital.

"OK," Savannah said, and continued to walk toward the creek. She noticed several tents set up, presumably to resemble the hospital for wounded, and she walked toward them.

She saw several women talking to a rather tall and older woman dressed in full colonial gear with petticoats, wearing a little puffy white hat. She looked pensive as she was looking over the participants, holding a clipboard and giving orders to several of the women. She went up to her, swinging her empty water bottle and asked, "Ms. Saunders?"

"Mrs. Saunders," she corrected, looking over Savannah with a smile as she took Savannah's name and explained a few things to her in a thick, southern accent. "You're dress is a bit elaborate," she stated, looking Savannah over again with slight disapproval, looked over her clipboard and replied, "that's alright. We'll just make you another nurse even though I've got me tons of nurses. I tell you what," she paused for a moment and nodded behind her. "Y'all can get me some sticks and twigs for the fire. We want to make this as authentic as possible, no barbeques, no propane or propane accessories, or gas grills. Just follow the creek and you'll be able to find what we need. There should be a couple of other mollies out there, so you won't be by yourself. Bring them to me ASAP, honey. We need to get ready for this thing."

Savannah nodded. "Ok, its my first one, so be gentle with me," she said.

Mrs Saunders laughed outloud, "Oh no, another virgin! And a foreign one telling by your accent. Where you from, sugar?"

Savannah smiled and replied, "Chicago, ma'am."

"Ah," she said happily. "The Windy City. Been there once and loved it. Gotta go again soon. Welcome to our reenactment!" She paused a moment, gave a thoughtful look to Savannah and said, "I know one of our regulars is from Chicago. What's your name again, shug?"

"Savannah Fabré, ma'am," she replied to the older woman in the immaculate 18^th century garb.

"Well shug," Mrs. Saunders replied happily. "you'll do just fine. I'm looking over my roster and noticed that you are on your history departments chair with Jason Gibson, who I know quite well. Is he here with you?" Savannah shook her head and Jen replied, "ah, that's alright, shug. I was wondering why you're dressed like an officers wife. A bit elaborate, but that's alright. Jason is an officer, so I'm gonna assume y'all are together." Before Savannah could defend her relationship with Jason, Mrs. Saunders continued happily, "you'll have plenty of fun with us. Just bring me my sticks and the other living historians back with you ASAP and we'll take it from there. But go by the water cooler in the hospital tent and fill your bottle up, you'll need it. I know its not authentic, but we would rather have our participants well hydrated from this heat rather than adhering to authenticity. We are gonna have a scorcher today, so the weatherman tells us."

"Uh, will do. Thanks," Savannah said as she turned and walked away quickly.

She scurried off toward the tent with a huge sign that read, "British Hospital" and found the Hinckley and Schmidt water coolers, snickered to herself as she crouched down and filled her water bottles with the cool clear liquid. Make it as authentic as possible, she thought to herself. Jason would have a fit I'm sure, she continued to think. He would say, 'the didn't have recycled plastic water bottles in the 18^th century.' "They deliver this far in the past?" she snickered to herself.

"Yes," a man's voice with a British accent replied. "They do go all over, don't they?"

She felt herself blush as she realized that she thought outloud, again! She looked up and turned to the man's voice. She was looking into the soft, green eyes of a very handsome red headed Green Dragoon. He was about Dale's height, but quite beefy, she thought. Really cute too, especially the red hair. He didn't skip a beat with his getup, complete with furry black hat, black gloves, medals, weapons and perfect queue.

He smiled down at her and extended his hand out to her saying, "Captain Ian Bordon, at your service miss. And you are?"

She extended her own hand out to him as he gently pulled her up, saying with a small curtsy, "Ms. Savannah Fabré kind sir. I must say," She paused, looked him over and smiled, saying excitedly, "wow! You are quite impressive!"

He took her hand and kissed it wholeheartedly. "Ah, I thank you, my lady," he replied. "I think your dress is very lovely, my lady." He bowed again and she giggled. "I've never seen you here. Is this your first time with us?" She nodded in reply as he continued, "well, you'll have a great time! I always do. I have distant relatives that fought this war, unfortunately, they were not on your side. I have so much fun doing these, so perhaps that is why this is the fifth one of these that I have done and of course, we do get beat, don't we?" He gave a curious smile and continued, "you are from the north. Not Boston, is it? No, you pronounce your r's."

"No sir. Chicago, Illinois," she said.

"Chicago?" he asked. "Why, I should have recognized the accent. Sounds just like a friend of mine that's from Chicago. He's usually here with us but informed me he wouldn't be coming. Something suddenly came up."

She gave him a curious glance and asked, "is he Jason Gibson?"

His eyes widened comically, Savannah laughed out loud. He opened his mouth, about to respond when she continued, "we both go to Loyola. He's in one of my history classes."

Ian shook his head with amazement and replied with a chuckle, "isn't that remarkable? Both of us happen to know the same person, and me from across the pond. Small world. Ah, yes, Jason and I have been doing this for some time now. He joined our unit the same time I did."

"Interesting," she replied with a giggle. Yes, it was interesting because if her relationship with Dale was over, she could convince Jason to get in touch with this Ian guy so she can maybe hook up with him. "Yes," she said. "It is a small world. I didn't know something suddenly came up and he couldn't make it. I'm not very happy about this." Ian noticed her discomfort and gently rubbed her arm. "Well, I guess I should just go ahead with out him." She cocked her head to the side and asked, "when was the last time you saw Jason?"

He looked a bit thoughtful as he answered, "just a few months ago. In fact, I just did some business up there as well. I work for British Petrol. We're looking to acquire Amoco. Have you heard? We may purchase the Amoco building."

She looked surprised. "The Amoco building? I wasn't aware of it. That building is like a landmark in Chicago! Despite the fact that the expensive Italian marble it was built with is crumbling down onto the street. People have to dodge falling marble or they'll get clocked on the noggin with it. They are refurbishing it and replacing the marble." He nodded to her with laughing eyes, taking in her words with great interest. "What would you Brits want with such a purchase?" she asked.

He smiled at her, saying "my dear, don't you worry your pretty little head about such things," which annoyed her.

Why do men think that women know nothing about business. "I haven't read a Wall Street Journal for some time, Ian, but I have an idea of how business acquisitions work. I control my own investment portfolio, and with the current 401K plan I have, I need to check if Amoco is among my stocks."

He smiled and cocked and eyebrow at her, saying, "touche', Miss Fabré. I apologize. I didn't mean to insult you. I'm impressed when a woman takes control." He paused as she cocked an eyebrow back to him, then continued. "Especially with business matters. I should tell you, if I may digress, that I did have a grand time at a particular pizza restaurant. Your deep dish pizza, I believe that's what its called, is wonderful. We need some of that in London."

"Well," she started. "We can talk about pizza all night, since its my favorite food group."

He laughed out loud and replied, "it is so nice to speak to someone and not be bombarded with questions about the Royals or the Beatles. That can be exhausting."

She smiled back and said, "I can see how that can be a nuisance. Just because you're from the UK doesn't mean you know everything about the Beatles or the Royal family. I'm usually asked by foreigners if I know Michael Jordon or Al Capone."

He laughed at this, making her chuckle back at him. "You mean to tell me," he started with a chuckle. "That you don't know the famous Michael Jordon? I thought that you all knew him on a personal level."

They chuckled at this when she asked, "do tell me, Ian, how is Paul McCartney doing these days? I hear he's knighted, so you, being a friend of his should refer him as 'sir?' And how is Fergie these days? Still a red head and with Weight Watchers?" They laughed loudly, everyone around them giving them looks of wonder as to what in the world are they laughing about.

They stood for some time, just looking at each other when she looked at her watch and said, "I hope you don't buy Sears Tower. I would hate for the British to try to shrink it down to size. Or try to modify the catalogue. As it is, Malaysia claims to have the 'world's tallest building,' save its antennas."

Ian laughed out loud at this, replying, "don't worry, my dear. Antennas do not count. Sears Tower is still the tallest building in the world, as far as we're concerned. We're actually thinking of buying back our famous bridge from that millionaire in Arizona."

They smiled at each other, Savannah saying, "I'm glad you had a good time in Chicago, it's a wonderful city. But if you'll excuse me, Ian, er...sorry. I mean captain. I really should go to my place."

"I understand my dear. You may be nursing me," he said with a sly smile. "Until next time, " he tipped his helmet to her and took her hand, kissing it tenderly, making her curtsy at him. "If you hear from Jason, please give him my best. I shall email him next week and tell him I've met a friend of his."

She nodded and said, "will do, Ian. Take care," and ran out of the tent. After last night the last thing she needs is Dale running into her forgetting to ask or tell her something and she talking with another cute guy. She can't help it if she's partial to red hair. I wonder why? she thought to herself jokingly. If he caught her talking to Ian, he would leave her there in Charleston, having her buy an airline ticket to make her way back home. Or, maybe I could stay with the Martin's, she thought to herself and laughed. Oh, that'll go over really well, with croc smile grinning at me as she sends the lusty bookends Sue and Char to run after Dale and Doc Martin setting me up with Gabriel. That'll go over really well, she thought and laughed to herself.

###

She wandered by herself toward the creek, whistling and humming to herself, swinging her now full and sweating water bottle and picking up several dried twigs and branches. I don't see anyone else here, she thought to herself. That 's what I get for chatting with a cutie patootie with an English accent, as she thought back to her conversation with Ian. I can't believe that Amoco is going to the British, she thought as she bent down to pick up more good sized branches and began to wonder what would happen to one of Chicago's landmarks. And how bizarre that he knows Jason, she continued to think. He is serious about his living historian status. She laughed out loud to herself and said, "even Ms. Saunders knew him..ooh, I mean Mrs. Saunders." She giggled as she continued to walk and pick up branches and thought that she'd leave a message tonight on Jason's voice-mail, telling him that 'everyone' knew him and asked where the hell he was, having some nerve not appearing at the reenactment. "And you wanted me to play your wife," she said to herself with a laugh. Some nerve, Jason.

She thought she had enough to start a fire when she saw within the distance a nice sized branch. Oooh...she thought. That would be perfect for a fire, but I hope it's not damp from the humidity. She stuffed her sweaty water bottle into her purse and skipped toward it and bent to pick it up when she heard a buzzing sound. It sounded like bees were coming toward her. She got up and turned around quickly, flitting her hands about and looked for the bees but didn't see any. The sound seemed to cease briefly. She also noticed that she was alone. Shrugging, she slowly bent over again to pick up the good sized branch. She heard the buzzing again and then a screeching sound, as if a loud squealing pitch was coming from the clouds. She dropped the branches and put her hands over her ears.

"What the crap?" she asked herself with irritation.

She looked around but didn't see anyone or anything that would make that sound. She looked up to the sky but only saw the bright blueness of the atmosphere and huge billowy white clouds, noticing that they started to move rapidly, as if someone had put her life on fast -forward. Her face was contorted in pain as she suddenly felt the earth move under her feet. What the hell, she thought with fright. Earthquakes in South Carolina? She suddenly remembered reading on the Internet about Middleton Place and how it needed to be repaired from battle and earthquake scars. Oh crap! Just my luck to be swallowed up by the earth at my first reenactment, she thought briefly. She turned around and saw the creek, and saw a big tree with tall branches, resembling fingers that looked like it was reaching for the sky. She caught a glance at her watch, which had the exact time of 2:00.

Oh my God, she thought. Raven was right. I wasn't dreaming! I don't think I'm dreaming right now! Her surroundings started to swirl and light was flashing everywhere, making her blink savagely as if to block out the lights that were now blurring her vision. Her ears were killing her with the burning sound of screeches and whirrs. She felt her eyes cross and a wind of such gust that she thought that it would take her sky bound, using her petticoats as a parachute to cascade her back down to earth. Her head spun, her stomach churned nauseously, the reflections of her life put before her eyes. Among things going through her mind; her first day of school, her parents funeral, her aunt leading her to the airport in Canada to Chicago's O'HARE, her first bike ride, one of her trophy ceremonies for karate, eating bagels, laying on the grass and watching large white clouds pass, working in her aunt's doctor office, a Paul McCartney concert at Soldier Field she went to, graduating from nursing school, working in the ER, drinking coffee, watching her first reenactment at Cantigny with Jason, her first kiss with Dale, crying at her aunt's funeral, going to the Daytona 500 and seeing a triumphant Dale Earnhardt accept his trophy while she clapped and cheered wildly, Dale's proposal to her on bended knee and accepting his ring, Gabriel and Dale at Yankee stadium with her watching the New York Yankees running onto the field as they won the world series last year, meeting and dancing with Derek Jeter, opening Christmas presents with Dale, her MCAT score which was 97%, arriving at Charleston and her complaining to him about his lack of enthusiasm, her reenactment dress, the Martin family, her drinks with Raven and their talk on the boardwalk, the green eyes of Ian Bordon, and eventually her first real encounter with William. His blue eyes warmly looking down in the hallway at the Martin's party were the last thing she saw before the last flash of bright blinding light, sudden blackness, and the sound of silence.

They were gathered around her. Margaret, Nathan, William, and Thomas. Samuel ran towards the children holding a tin cup of water, trying his hardest not to spill.

"Father's coming!" he yelled. Thomas decided to pick up one of the sticks that were gathered at her side.

"Maybe she was cold and wanted to start a fire, but she died!" Meg exclaimed.

"She's not dead," Thomas said, pointing toward her stomach. "She's sleeping. See how she's breathing?"

Everyone tilted their head in unison to the right and looked in wonder at the unusually beautifully dressed red head sleeping in their backyard. Thomas took the stick he had in his hand and poked Savannah's leg. She stirred slightly, but stayed still and unconscious.

"See," he said. "She's alive."

Samuel poured the empty cup over her head, a couple of drops falling on her face, but she didn't stir. Everyone looked at Samuel and then back to the sleeping beauty. Benjamin Martin was running as fast as he could, wanting to see what Samuel was talking about. He noticed that the children seemed to be standing over a figure that was laying on the ground.

As he approached Savannah he caught his breath then gasped. Oh my God, he thought. Who is this? I have never seen anyone so beautiful! She looks like a princess!

Benjamin was pushing the children out of the way, picking up Savannah. "Alright children, make way. We need to bring her into the house and make sure that she's alright." As he lifted her, she made a little moaning sound but remained knocked out. "Thomas, bring me that valise," he said. Thomas, being snapped out of his stupor, bent and grabbed her purse and followed his father, with the children hurrying behind them. "Abigale! I need you! Quickly!" Benjamin called out.

Abigale, the Martin's housemaid and nanny came running out of the house. "Oh my Lord, what happened to her, sir? Aw...such a pretty young thing. Let's take her upstairs."

She led Benjamin up to the Martin's master bedroom. He laid her gently onto the down quilts and put her hand over her stomach. The entire family stood around her. Thomas was transfixed on the fragrant beauty lying in his fathers bed. She is beautiful, especially that hair, he thought. I have never seen hair on fire like that. And that skin. White and soft like a cloud. His thoughts were interrupted by his little sister.

"Father," Meg said. "She is pretty. Like a doll. Who is she? Will she be alright?" she asked.

"I don't know, dear," he replied. "We just have to wait for her to wake up. She'll have a lot of questions to answer. Abigale, let's make her as comfortable as possible." With that, Abigale rushed downstairs to make preparations to aid this poor sick woman. She set the fire, grabbed clean linens, and grabbed the well bucket to get water. She thought about making something to eat for the pretty stranger. Upstairs, Benjamin hushed the children out of the room and finding it difficult to lure his son Thomas out of the room.

"You too, Thomas," he said gently yet with fatherly firmness. "Let her rest. She needs her strength." He led the hesitant Thomas out of his room and he closed the door behind him.

###

She eventually woke up with a bolt, which made both Benjamin and Abigale jump hard with her in unison. Her entire body had jerked hard from a long restful nap. She sat up slightly, shook her head and looked up, seeing the concerned eyes of Benjamin Martin and Abigale. She coughed, blinked hard and looked again, asking, "what happened? Where am I?" She smelled firewood burning. The room seemed to spin a bit as she looked around and saw it was getting dark outside. "It's nighttime already? Did I faint again? Did I miss the reenactment? What time is it? Where's Dale?"

The two of them exchanged looks and mouthed "reenactment?" to each other.

Benjamin sat at the edge of the bed and asked, "do you know who you are?"

"I'm Savannah," she paused, thinking maybe she should say her last name so they can find her on the registration forms. "Savannah Fabré. I'm a molly. A nurse in the British hospital," she croaked, glancing at him and asked, "who are you?"

He looked at her cautiously but replied warmly, "I'm Benjamin Martin. This is Abigale. Where are you from?"

"Chicago," she replied.

"Chicago?" he asked. "Where's Chicago?"

She turned slowly and looked at him with confusion. "Duh, it's only the third largest city in the U.S.," she said. "Can't you put on a light so I can find my stuff? I need to get back to my hotel. It looks like its getting late and Dale will be worried."

Benjamin and Abigale were exchanging curious glances at each other. He got up and gathered the candelabra and sat back on the bed. Savannah looked at the candles and commented, "uh, aren't you guys taking this thing a little too far? You could start a fire with that thing. You're going to burn me with the bed."

He looked at her with confusion, asking, "did you just call me da?"

She looked at him incredulously, then shook her head. "No," she said. "I didn't call you da. Duh is just an expression you say to someone that asks a silly question. Speaking of which, why don't you flip on the light switch? Wouldn't that be better than a candle?"

"Flip on the light switch?" he asked. "Flip on what light switch? What are you talking about?" He looked a little more concerned, shaking his head and saying, "maybe you should rest."

She replied shakily, "actually, I am thirsty. May I please have a glass of water?" Abigale got up obediently and handed a glass of water to Benjamin, who handed it to Savannah.

She took a long chug from it, then proceeded to choke on it, looking at it and saying, "yuk! What's wrong with the water? What happened to Hinckley and Schmidt?"

Benjamin took the water from her and proceeded to interrogate her. He knew how the British were fighting against the regulars. His oldest son was out with them, fighting for a cause he strongly believed in. "If you're a nurse with the British, what were you doing on my property? Did you get lost? What happened to your husband?"

She looked at him and asked, "my husband? What do you mean my husband?" He pointed to her platinum and diamond engagement ring. "He must be well off to afford something like that in silver."

"This is platinum and only two carets," she babbled as she gently displayed her ring. "He promised that when he got started with an affluent law firm, he would buy me a bigger one. How much bigger of a ring does he want to get me? Not that I care..."

"So," Benjamin said. "He's an attorney? I thought maybe a high ranking officer like a colonel or general would be your husband. What has happened to him?"

She was now realizing what was happening; maybe what Raven said was true and she was back in time to meet William, but why was she here with these people? "Is he British as well?" he asked.

"Actually," she started. "We're Canadian. And I don't know what happened to...us. I'm sorry, but I feel light-headed. I need to eat something. And I really need to hit the privy."

He looked at her in confusion as she babbled, then helped her up gently and told Abigale to take her to the water closet. "I'll have Abigale bring you a fresh dress if you'd like to change out of that. You're about my wife's size. Abigale,"

He started to walk out of the room but paused as he looked once more at the beautiful young woman that was stirring feelings in him that he hadn't felt in years. Not since Elizabeth died. I shouldn't feel this way, he thought to himself. I'm old enough to be her father.

"Mrs. Fabré," he started. "We'll keep you here tonight so you can rest. Tomorrow we'll figure out a way to return you home to...Canada."

With that, he left her in the care of Abigale, who smiled warmly at her as she helped her gently off the bed, saying with tenderness, "this way, dear. Put your arm around my shoulder so you don't fall."

Savannah said , "wait! I need my bag."

Abigale bent down to the floor and quickly retrieved Savannah's heavy purse, handing it to her with a smile. Abigale was very strong, as she practically carried her to a closet like room that had no light switch in it. She felt for it, with Abigale giving her a strange look as she held up the candelabra, saying, "I'll bring you some clothes and hot water, Mrs. Fabré." She put down the source of light upon a small wooden table and left Savannah in the little room.

As soon as Savannah closed the door, she placed the candelabra on the floor, sat next to it and retrieved her headphones. Good, she thought. They're still here. She put them on and proceeded to search for a radio station, but all she got was static. No way, she thought. I know that station is here, looking at the digital display. She put it on AM and FM repeatedly, but no success. Oh my God, she thought. What I would give to hear a country western song, any kind of whiney, fiddle, banjo pickin' stuff. When she found nothing but static, she sighed heavily in defeat, turning her headphones off and putting them back into her bag sighing heavily again.

She got up and walked around the small room, looking but not finding any indoor plumbing or electricity. She felt the walls for a light switch, but was not lucky. Just an enormous white footed bathtub, a couple of wash basins, a wooden counter and some folded linens on an armoire. This is bananas, she thought. This big of a house and no electricity or plumbing in the bathroom? Is this real? She went to the window and looked out, but didn't see any city lights. Just the royal blue of a sky setting for the evening.

If this is real, she thought to herself with a chuckle, then I should try to go to 1960 England and discover the Beatles. She was suddenly startled by a sound of distant fireworks and looked up toward the window, but saw nothing. No flashing in the sky. She got up, went to the window and looked down past the Martin's front yard and saw an imposing cloud of smoke, or fog hovering above the ground. Kind of what it looks like after you set off fireworks, she thought but where are they? A slight smell of sulfur was in the air, as she sniffed and then was startled to hear the fireworks continue loudly but again, no flashing in the sky to indicate that there were actually fireworks. She happened to hear Ben Martin speaking to his children, saying, "six pounders. Lots of them." She heard footsteps run onto the porch as Ben told Thomas to put the guns back into the house. "Abigale will need you to take water up to Mrs. Fabré," he said as she heard the footsteps going into the house. She was realizing that the sound was probably cannons firing, or guns going off in battle. Battle? she thought to herself. Are they really fighting this close to the house? She heard Ben talking to his children as she strained to listen to him, but hearing nothing but murmuring, for she couldn't make out the words.

Her eavesdropping was interrupted by a soft knock at the door, causing her to scramble and get her 20^th century items back into her purse. She quickly opened the door to Abigale, who was carrying a dress with undergarments. One of Benjamin's sons was right behind her, carrying a bucket of warm water into the privy. He stood staring at her, with his mouth agape and still holding the bucket.

"Thomas!" Abigale said sternly. "Please pour the water into the basin for Mrs. Fabré."

He obediently did what he was told, with Savannah smiling saying, "yeah Thomas. Listen to Abigale. Haven't you ever seen a grown woman before?"

"My father says you're a British nurse, but you don't sound British. You're also too pretty to be British," he said.

"Thomas!" Abigale snapped.

"That's alright, Abigale. I wasn't raised in the UK," Savannah replied with a chuckle. "I was actually born in Quebec."

Abigale gently pulled Thomas by the arm saying, "come Thomas. We need to get dinner ready and I'm certain this young lady would like to freshen up." With that, they left Savannah to get cleaned up and to think about what the hell she was doing here, and why. As Thomas and Abigale made their way downstairs they looked curiously at each other, then back toward the privy as Thomas asked, "the UK? What's the UK?" before running onto the porch to join his family.This was unsettling to Savannah, with her brain throbbing in pain from thought overload. She kept thinking, "what is going on here? I feel like Peggy Sue from that Kathleen Turner movie."

She freshened up as much as she could, fixing her hair but not changing into the dress that Abigale brought her, which was a little too short for her, despite that she was only 5"2' herself. She swallowed two pills with a chug of her water before she stuffed her bottle of Tylenol back into the ample sized purse and made her way out of the privy.

She went slowly room to room, tip toeing as not to make noise and feeling the walls for a light switch, but had no success. She sighed out loud when she noticed that there were unlit candles in elaborate holders and a candelabra placed in each room, even in the upstairs corridor. She suddenly heard footsteps coming up the stairs, so she hurried back on tip toes to the privy door. When she got there, it was Ben Martin approaching her with a puzzled look on his face.

"Mr. Martin," she started, hoping he wouldn't ask what the hell was she doing running in and out of the rooms in his house.

"Call me Ben," he said graciously.

"Ben, I'm not feeling very well. I should have something to eat," she stated shakily.

He nodded and extended his hand out to her and she took it, with him holding her firmly and leading her downstairs. He noticed her bag swinging from her other arm and said, "I hope there isn't a weapon in that valise."

"Oh, no," she said, realizing he was speaking of her bag. Valise? I hope he means my bag, she thought briefly. "If I had a gun, I wouldn't know what end to point and shoot with. I would shoot my own foot off." She smiled at him and he back at her with warmth as she shakily leaned on him, he keeping a steady hold on her. He led her to the dining area where the children were seated.

As soon as she approached the table, Thomas, who slapped his brothers on the arm and stood up for her out of courtesy, with the two younger ones following suit. Ben extended a chair out to her and guided her gently into it. Everyone stared at her, ignoring Nathan's continuing story about how the British would "kill all of us men if they come here."

He cast a knowing glance at Savannah, saying, "and do Lord knows what to you women."

"Nathan!" Abigale said. "Children, don't be rude. This is Mrs. Fabré. She's from Canada but she's lost and we're going to help her get home, aren't we?" she said with a smile toward Savannah and then cast a motherly look at the children, who nodded. Thomas got up and introduced himself to Savannah. She extended her hand out to the adolescent and he gently kissed it, causing little "ooohs" and giggles among his siblings.

"Alright, Prince Charming. Unhand the beautiful princess and introduce your brothers and sisters," Ben interrupted with a chuckle.

Thomas continued to introduce his family, especially Abigale to Savannah who smiled at each other, with Thomas casting a little angry glance to each of his siblings.

"Gabriel, our oldest brother, is out fighting the war with the continentals," he said. "He wrote to us not long ago. He thinks that we're doing really well."

"Well," Savannah started. "I'm certain he's doing his best with this conflict. I hope he does well and comes back in one piece, alive. My prayers will be with all of you." They all smiled at her as she continued, "I would be honored if I could help you in any way possible. I can clean dishes, wounds, running noses," with that last remark, the children giggled. "I can read stories for the younger ones, if they'd like me to, help tuck everyone in bed," she said as the girls nodded to her.

"That's very kind of you, Mrs. Fabré," Ben started.

"Savannah please. It's the least I could do for all of your kindness to me," she interrupted.

"Savannah," he said tenderly. "And we shall help you get home. I would really like to know how you got this far south if you live all the way north in Canada, or British North America."

She glanced shyly up at him, he behind her gazing at her with warmth and amazement. He felt like a young boy, seeing this red headed beauty with the amazing emerald eyes. "Well," she started. "I don't know where to start. Everything is so...I don't know, confusing. We were traveling south, and I was near a battle field with my....husband and the next thing I know, I'm running for my life, which is how I ended up by your creek." Boy, she thought. How easy was that to pull off. I can't lie to save my life, but here I am pulling a real doozy out of my butt.

Meg said, "I hope you can stay with us, Mrs. Fabré. Father won't let anything happen to us. You'll be safe here."

Savannah smiled back at the young girl, saying, "call me Savannah, please."

"You are very pretty Savannah," she continued. "Susan and I think you look like a doll." Everyone laughed gently at this, making Savannah blush a little bit.

"I thank you, miss," she said and winked at the lovely little pre-teen blond, who responded with a little giggle.

Ben reassuringly patted her hand, holding it there and saying, "you don't have to talk about it right now if you don't want to. Eat. You'll feel better. What would you like to drink? Wine or brandy?"

Savannah looked up to him, "may I have water, please?" she asked.

"Of course," he said, moving toward the water pitcher, but his son Thomas beat him to it, almost running to fill her glass. As he poured the water, Savannah noticed that it was a light brown liquid. She stared at her glass in wonder.

"You did want water, didn't you Savannah?" Thomas asked, holding the pitcher in his hands.

"Uh..uh.." she stammered, staring at the light brown liquid that looked like it had small chunks of dirt floating in it. "I...I guess I..."

"Let me get some wine for us, Savannah," Ben said and went to the sitting room to retrieve a couple of goblets when he suddenly heard someone coming into the house. He quickly put the goblets down, retrieved his pistol and approached the figure from behind, which was moving slowly toward the dining area. He clicked the trigger and said, "slowly turn."

The figure turned to him and said, "father," collapsing noisily and making everyone from the table run to what the commotion was all about.

Ben called to Abigale telling her to get water and bandages fast. He carried his injured son to the master bedroom with everyone following, even Savannah. Thomas was getting excited asking his injured brother questions about the war but Ben interrupted him, telling him not now. Gabriel asked if any Redcoats had come by, and Ben replied, "not yet. Abigale! The children and Savannah!"

Abigale took Savannah's arm, but she pulled gently away, shaking her head and said, "Ben, Abigale, let me help with his injuries. I've been trained in this. I was a nurse before I came down here."

Abigale nodded at her and took the children out of the room.

"Let me see the damage," Savannah said, tenderly poking and prodding at the handsome and very young blond young man, who was not much older than Thomas. She noticed that this guy looked familiar as she looked over the big gash on his left side and the bruise on his forehead, asking him, "have you lost consciousness?"

He shook his head and looked up at her with a puzzled expression. "No, but I was hit with the butt of a rifle."

She hummed, "mm hm, I see. Well, you've lost some blood. Don't worry, it doesn't look like you lost a lot. The gash is on the left side. It's not very deep. You may have a little muscle damage but you'll heal. No internal organs are hanging out. You also have a hematomato the size of a golf ball on your forehead. That'll heal in no time. You'll live, darlin'." She used 'darlin' like Dale did to her.

The Martin men looked at each other, then to her puzzled with Ben asking, "golf ball? Hematomato? What's that?"

"Sorry," she said smiling. "I'm trying to lighten the situation. Dr's and nurses try to do that all the time. I mean a hematoma, which is a bruise in medical terms. We need to clean this wound and apply pressure."

She grabbed some linen that Abigale just brought in and instructed Ben where and how to put pressure. As she poured water into the wash basin and was getting her hands rinsed out in the makeshift scrub area, she asked Abigale for some needles, alcohol, and the strongest thread she had in the house. Abigale ran obediently. Savannah rinsed off a piece of linen and began to clean the wound when Gabriel looked up at her in awe as he took in her lovely face, then his father, then her again, asking, "who are you, again?"

"This is Savannah." Ben said. "Savannah, my oldest son, Gabriel. He's with the Continentals. Savannah's a nurse. She was traveling down here from Canada when she got lost by the farm. She'll be staying here until we can get her home."

Abigale came back with the alcohol and sewing kit, looking at Savannah with wonder. "Whiskey, ah...this will work well. Please bring me that wash basin," as she motioned behind her. "I need to wash my hands." Abigale ran to obtain soap for Savannah while Ben grabbed the wash basin and poured water into it. Abigale returned quickly, handed Savannah a cake of soap and watched with wonder as she pulled her sleeves up and washed her hands thoroughly. She put the needles into the basin and gave them a small scrub and asked to her captive audience, "would you please bring me the candles? I need to sterilize this needle. Try to sit up, Gabriel. I know this isn't the first time you had a little whiskey. Drink up, buddy."

He looked up at her and smiled, blushing at her remark and her amazing beauty, despite the pain he was in and drinking heavily from the flask.

"Abigale, if you have tea to brew," she started, examining the sewing kit and taking out strong thread and pulling out the needles. "Something herbal like cinnamon, peppermint or chamomile, get it going. I hope you have honey," Savannah stated, watching Ben dispense more booze into his son's mouth.

"We do. We have valerian too, will that help?" Abigale asked.

"That," Savannah started, as she continued to prep for surgery, applying the needle to the flame of the candle and burning it, much to her audience's amazement, "would be fantastic. Get that and some cinnamon tea up here STAT."

Abigale started to make her way to the door but paused, turning to give a confused look to Savannah. "STAT? What does that mean?" she asked.

"As soon as possible," Savannah said, waving the hot needles to cool and beginning her superficial operation on Gabriel's wounds. "Ben," she started, "I take it you have nothing for Gabriel's pain in the house?" He shook his head as she instructed him, "then give him some more of that booze. Please hold the flask to his mouth and pour slowly. He's going to need it."

Ben looked at her with wonder and smiled at himself. I think I've found a wonderful woman for Gabriel, he thought to himself. I really don't care for Anne Howard. She's not very smart, or nice, and Savannah seems kind and brilliant as well as beautiful. He thinks so also. Too bad about her husband, but this is probably fate. If I can only find out her age, he thought. I wonder if she would mind staying here with us permanently.

He continued to daydream as she cleaned out the wounds and performed the work of a field surgeon. Benjamin continually dispensed the whiskey into his son's mouth and staring at the young nurse with amazement. Savannah was as gentle one can get with a needle. He hardly winced, but that was many thanks to the alcohol going into his body. When she finished, Abigale had brought up the tea, which Savannah let steep a little bit longer to make it strong.

As she blew gently into the tea to cool it off and brought it to Gabriel's lips, the slightly drunk teenager gave her a loopy grin, slurring, "you are too kind, beautiful green eyed Mrs. Attorney." He wrinkled his face as he caught scent of the cup at his lips and asked, "do I really need to drink that tea?"

"Yes, and the faster you drink it, the faster you'll feel better," she said, pouring the tea gently into his mouth with him making a face at it. "What makes you think I'm married?" she asked, giving him another drink of the pungent tea.

He said after making a loud slurping sound, "I may be drunk, but I'm not blind. I see that big diamond ring on your left hand."

She held her hand out, letting it shine against the candlelight and looked at the ring Dale gave her. "Actually," she said, twisting the ring with her other finger, "I may be a widow."

"Really?" he asked happily, sitting up slightly and hissing in pain. "Then, would you marry me?"

Ben chuckled at this and looked over the young couple with affection and happiness, watching Savannah caress the young soldier's cheek. She smiled warmly at him and said, "maybe we can discuss it in a couple of years Gabriel. You need to rest. Finish this tea and get some sleep, my brave little soldier."

"I will now sleep knowing you're here to take care of me, Savannah," he said with a sleepy smile.

She gave him a little peck on the cheek and turned to leave but Ben stopped her, whispering, "thank you for saving my son. He is single and not married and since you're probably widowed..."

"Ben," she started in a whisper. "I'm too old for him."

He gave her a curious look and said with a small shake of his head, "well, despite you've more experience than he, it doesn't mean he would not make a good husband, or that you are too old for him."

Savannah said, "let's not talk about that now. He needs to rest. So do we. We've had a busy day, wouldn't you say? I'm exhausted." And with that they left the room to the loud sounds of cannon fire that they didn't notice yet. "Besides," she continued. "I promised the kids that I'd tell them stories about Canada, and I thought I would read to them as well."

He smiled at her affectionately, saying, "they have taken to you, Savannah. I'm sure that they want you to stay here with us and I would be honored if you would think about it, if you have no other place to go." He continued eagerly, "I don't know why, but I feel a kind of kinship to you. And the children do need a mother or in this case, a big sister and I know you do not want to talk about it now, but please consider marrying Gabriel. I know you do not know him, but perhaps this is fate."

She cast him a sideways glance, about to speak when the cannon fire outside was getting louder and seemingly closer, causing the both of them to jump slightly. Now what, she thought, as they looked at each other in surprise and then Ben leaving the upstairs hall quickly. She grabbed her makeshift medical kit out of the room and closed the door behind her, making her way in haste downstairs after Ben. Ben moved downstairs quickly and made his way out to the porch looking about his own front yard. The lights and flashes of gunfire and cannons, with puffs of floating smoke were everywhere. She laid her kit onto a table and went out onto the porch with him. They were the audience to history in making. The Redcoats and the rebels, fighting in his own front yard. The gunfire, yells and screams were getting louder. She stared out in disbelief. This is not a reenactment, she thought to herself. This isn't "Saving Private Ryan" or "Full Metal Jacket," she thought. This is real. What Raven told me, its all real. But when do I meet William? Am I supposed to change history? And why am I here with these people a witness to this? She inadvertently put an arm through the crook of Ben's, him reciprocating by covering her hand with his. At that moment, a breakthrough of a thought went through her head. She realized who this man was! This man is related to Dr. Martin. And the injured boy up there, Gabriel, looks a lot like Dale's friend with the same name. She had only met him twice; when he came to Chicago for business and spent a few days with Dale and when they went to New York for the World Series.

She was thinking back to the future and remembered how Dr. Martin spoke of his seven times grandfather Benjamin Martin and how he fought the British in South Carolina. She almost forgot she was in South Carolina. He looked down at her sadly. She felt he was looking at her as she asked with out looking at him,

"Do you think we should prepare some medical supplies in case there are wounded soldiers?" she asked. "We can't let them bleed to death on your front lawn."

He nodded, "That," he said, "is a good idea." He lead her back into the house and together with Abigale and the other farm hands went to get more whiskey, bandages, plenty of water and whatever else they may need to help the wounded soldiers.

###

The next day, after her long trip from the future and hours of working with patients, she was drained. Last night, she had spent about an hour explaining to 18^th century people how to set up triage. They all listened to her instructions obediently, even Ben as they listened intently on how to determine what kind of injuries there were. They had to decide who was the most critically injured, who had just a flesh wound, or dying and nothing could be done except to make the patient as comfortable as possible. When she did take a break, it was to reassure the youngest of the children that everything was going to be alright and sneak a Tylenol to Gabriel, who took it as if he were familiar with taking pills. She didn't think much of that, but dispensed him two doses that night. She cuddled with the children, reassured them again that everything will be alright. She also told them a couple of stories and had tucked them into bed repeatedly since they continued to get up during the night to see what was going on. Ben looked on as Savannah carried Susan, who snuggled up to her neck and was sucking her thumb in relief. He listened to the gentle and motherly tone she used with the young children, telling them how she was going to tell them a story about Canada and how much fun it is to skate on ice. He felt his heart skip a beat with joy and a smile form on his face, then gathered his thoughts and continued to care for the wounded. She tried to sleep but couldn't as she woke up several times during the night and watched Ben gently pry his children's hands off of Savannah, attempting to take them back to their beds. She reassured him it was alright for them to sleep with her, so he left Susan and Margaret with her as she dozed off finally for four hours.

After a decent nap, going back to numbing hours of bandaging wounds and sopping up bleeding injuries, Savannah inadvertently glanced at her Bulova and noticed that it was a little after nine AM, then realized what she was doing because she rapidly grabbed it off her wrist and slipped it into her bag, which was slung across her shoulders. Don't know if they have these kind of timepieces yet, she thought to herself. Better to be safe than sorry.

She had her bottle of Tylenol, which she used herself regularly and discreetly dispensed one pill for each soldier that was in serious pain. It brought down the fever in three of them successfully. Ben marveled at her expertise and organizational skills, but was unaware of the pills. She moved quickly but was thorough with her care, patching little wounds as well as performing minor surgery when needed and saying, "holy moley" at the sight of bad wounds, which made everyone around her chuckle.

Several of Mr. Martin's farm hands were actually great assistants. They learned quickly and were just as thorough as she was, not skipping a beat when it came to bandaging wounds. Savannah was thankful for them, which gave her a few of hours of much needed sleep, thanks to Ben's persistence. She was surrounded by blood and horror, making her panic slightly. What if I can't save all of them, she thought to herself. She decided to think of good thoughts. The doctors in the ER back in Chicago would tell her to do that if something overwhelmed her. She thought about how she was just getting up today. When she woke up early, she discovered that Margaret, William and Susan were snuggled warmly and content next to her, hugging her as they slept. She slowly got out of their grasp and made her way to the injured, her mind still mixed up as she looked down at the balled up apron tied to her side. She numbly pulled it on, looked at the bloodstains and sighed out loud, going downstairs and noticed that Ben was still busy with his farmhands as they carried an injured soldier to his front porch. Ben had handed her a piece of buttered bread and nodded at her. She took it with a nod, thanking him quietly and eating her meager breakfast before going back 'to work.'

She made her way out of the Martin house, gazed up into the new sunrise, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and reached for a basket on the floor. She looked in the basket to make certain she had hidden her Tylenol well, and felt it, walked over the first injured soldier she saw and gave medical care. She was used to working long hours with little sleep because of her clinicals and her regular nursing gig at Loyola's ER. This trauma one center within the city limits of Chicago did not leave little to the imagination. She had seen the affects of horrible car crashes, drive by gang shootings, stabbings, and whatever life threatening cases that were brought in by paramedics and LifeStar, which was an airborne ambulance in the Chicago land area. Now she felt like Hawkeye Pierce in a M.A.S.H unit she thought to herself, doing so-called "meatball surgery." Her surgical skills were a blessing thanks to a young surgeon who had a thing for her back at Loyola. He taught her everything he knew about surgery and herbal remedies. Nothing materialized with that relationship since she was not attracted to him and she was with Dale at the time.

As the sun had risen, high and warm above them, she took a long drink of water from one of Ben's hired hands named Abner. She had chatted with him that night, wanting to know a very important thing, so she asked if he was a slave. He shook his head, telling her that the good Mr. Martin hired him and his brothers to work the fields. She felt relieved to hear that, because she would have had harsh words with Ben had she known the black folk that were in his 'employment' were actually slaves. She also heard him discuss his religion, which was voo-doo. She nodded as she listened intently how he had previous problems with his religion with former masters. But he happened upon Mr. Martin, who bought him as a slave and granted him freedom as Ben was completely against slavery. She wondered why he would buy him as a slave, but since Abner's free now, it doesn't make a difference. She also found out that Abigail worked free, just to care for the children, especially after Elizabeth Martin died. She loved the Martin children, and told Abner she admired the stranger Savannah and how kind she was to them. Abigail did receive spending money, but she was happy getting her room and board free, according to Abner.

"You had you 'nuf warter, Mizziz Savannah?" Abner asked gently, which she nodded in reply. He looked at her with concern and said fatherly, "you need you some sleep, Mizziz. You been up all da night, almost."

She smiled, touched his arm and shook her head. "I'm fine, Abner. These men need me. Thank you for the water and your concern." He nodded with a smile as she bent back down, hovering over a Redcoat soldier and treating his head wound. When she finished, he thanked her quietly, reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette.

"You're not going to smoke that now, are you?" she asked excitedly.

"I need it terribly, missus," he replied pitifully.

"You can light it and smoke it, just give me a drag, eh?" she said anxiously.

He looked at her in surprise but lit his cigarette, took a long drag and handed it to her, which she took gracefully. As she took a long, luxurious drag, the wounded soldier mouthed "drag?" to another soldier laying next to him who shrugged and continued to look at her in shock with their mouths hanging open, then gasping out loud as she exhaled the smoke. Ignoring their stares, she pulled another long drag on the roughly made cigarette, feeling the smoke fill her lungs and exhaled slowly with a look of relief on her face.

"Ahh...many thanks kind sir," she said with orgasmic relief.

He looked at her with his mouth wide open in astonishment, as did the other Redcoats around him. "Feel better, do you?" he asked as he nodded toward the cigarette, motioning for her to smoke as much as she wanted.

She smiled back at him and thought he sounded like Yoda from Star Wars with the way he asked his question. "Feel better, I do. Thank you," she replied with a little smirk .

One of the other Redcoats commented with a thick, Irish brogue, "I never knew of a lady that can smoke."

"My dear sir," she said thoughtfully and looking at the little cigarette and flicked the ashes off casually. "Apparently, this is the 1700's. A lady can do anything she wants." Then added her trademark, "'eh?"

She smiled and took the crude cigarette again for one more drag from the tobacco, which made the soldiers snicker nervously at her audacity. As she was handing the cigarette back to its owner and enjoying the little nicotine buzz it gave her, Gabriel had made his way out onto the porch, walking slowly toward her with a small limp, but gasped in surprise when he had seen what she was doing, noticing smoke hovering around her and saying in shock, "Savannah! What are you doing? You can't smoke that here!"

She was snapped out of her 'high' as she looked up in surprise saying, "Gabriel! Don't sneak up on me like that! You scared the hell out of me! I thought it was your father." She looked him up and down, touched his forehead which made him close his eyes with delight the same way Dale used to when she caressed his face. She felt no temperature, gave him a small caress on his cheek with the back of her hand and asked with concern, "how do you feel? Better?"

"Yes," he said, taking her hand as he was forgetting her smoking but was taken a little aback with her saying hell and enjoying her heavenly touch simultaneously. "I thank you for all that you've done here, and I do want to apologize for my behavior last night."

"What are you talking about, Gabriel? You didn't do anything," she said as she gently pulled her hand out of his, bending down to retrieve her basket of medical supplies and walking around, making her rounds to the injured. "Besides," she started. "I was trained to do this. This is my job, to help injured people."

He was following her with a slight limp and said, "I asked you to marry me, and I should have been more considerate about Dale's death. Not that I knew anything of your current situation at that time, which my father told me about this morning, but it was wrong of me regardless. It was very inconsiderate of me and I humbly apologize to you, for your great loss and my heartless actions." He stood in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders, asked sincerely with a shy smile, "can you forgive me?"

"Gabriel," she said, smiling back gingerly and giving his chin a little caress, which sent delicious shivers up and down his spine. "There is nothing to apologize for. You are forgiven for nothing. Go rest. I have to check a few of the British men downstairs. Excuse me."

With that she left a smiling Gabriel on the porch. He got a couple of odd glances from a couple of the injured soldiers which made him say, "I will marry that woman some day."

When she went downstairs, she noticed that the leg of a patient that she cared for was bleeding through the bandages. She knelt down beside to him, feeling his head and face for fever and taking off his old wrappings. His wound is not clotting, she thought. He may have a platelet problem. She grabbed new wrappings and applied pressure to his wound. She asked him how he was feeling, and he said with a smile and cockney accent, "could be worse, mum. This is terribly kind of ye, taking care of us." She smiled warmly at him and resumed her care to him.

"I was living in Halifax when the war broke out." he continued, "King George asked me to fight for the crown after Benedict Arnold tried to invade Quebec in 1775."

She felt her eyes widen as she commented, "you're a veteran then, aren't you?" He let out a snicker and a nod as he suddenly hissed in pain as she continued to re-wrap his injured leg. "And you have an injury like Benedict Arnold, though I don't recall which leg of his was injured. I keep taking care of you, you're leg will be fine. You'll be dancing in no time."

He smiled warmly at her as he continued. "Is that a promise, mum? I love to dance." She smiled back at him with a nod as he went on. "Serves that man right, mum. We've heard that he was actually trying to get Canada to fight against the King of England. Can you believe that? But of course, who was I to say no to his majesty." He hissed slightly as she continued to care for his wound. He gave her a curious glance and commented, "you don't sound like you're from England, mum. Where do you hail from?"

"Well," she started. "It's quite a long story, but I was born in Canada also. In Montreal, to be exact. I'm a British nurse, but I give care to all that need it. I am an equal opportunity care giver."

He continue to smile up at her but was soon distracted by the sudden crowd of new Redcoat soldiers that were making their way onto the Martin's porch, with some of them starting to work their way around the house, inspecting the premises. One lieutenant went up to the porch, checking all the wounded and assessing the damage of the war. He was a young man, wearing a typical Redcoat uniform complete with medals, a gold gorget around his neck and a large white X across his chest. His perfect white wig and tricorn hat on his head completed his uniform. He made his way around the porch and glanced at Gabriel, who turned his back to him. The lieutenant continued to walk slowly around the porch and eventually made his way back down the porch and walked toward Savannah. He tipped his hat down at her smiling nervously and she nodded back.

The soldier she was caring for said happily, "sir, this lovely woman is a British nurse from Montreal. She cared for all of us, and did a bonnie job of it."

The lieutenant's eyes widened, smiling warmly at Savannah as she slowly rose to face him. He extended his hand out to her and was about to reply when Ben Martin came out of the house and walked down the stairs quickly toward them. He had a concerned look on his face and had blood on him, making him look like a butcher. He stood protectively next to Savannah, who glanced up at him and smiled. He didn't take his eyes off of the Redcoat as he looked at the young, white wigged man with suspicious eyes.

Sensing that this young woman may be either this farmer's daughter or wife, the lieutenant regained his composure and stood straight, extending his respect to the lovely lady.

"Thank you for the care of his majesty's soldiers," he said earnestly to Ben and Savannah.

Ben nodded and Savannah was about to speak when she was interrupted by the thunderous roar of horses galloping towards them. They all turned to the commotion coming up the gravel walkway, which was a herd of black-hatted soldiers whose horses were kicking up the dirt as they galloped, making it look like a smokey dance floor in a night club, she thought to herself. They looked fierce, menacingly fierce. There was a single one in front with the rest of his platoon directly behind him. Must be the leader, Savannah thought to herself. He had the scariest looking and biggest horse she had ever seen, like the size of a MACK truck. He raised his right hand up as if he were to make a left hand turn on a bike, Savannah thought, stifling a giggle. The other soldiers stopped obediently as the leader rode his huge scary horse to the front of the house, stopping and looking suspiciously around the homestead.

Oh my God, she thought excitedly to herself. These are the Green Dragoons. They do look quite impressive, and scary. She was staring at them in awe as the lieutenant obediently went to the man who appeared to be the head honcho she thought, watching the lieutenant tip his hat in respect.

"Lieutenant," the Dragoon said.

"Colonel," the lieutenant started with a smile. "It appears that we have found a British woman among the wounded here. She's a nurse."

The colonel looked down from his huge mount and barked, "who is this woman, Lieutenant?"

The lieutenant looked at Savannah with a warm, enthusiastic smile and extended his right hand out to her, motioning her to come to him. She started but Ben gently held her back and started to slowly approach the colonel and guarding Savannah, saying, "this woman has nothing to do with the war, colonel. She's a civilian from Canada visiting relatives here."

She looked up at Ben and was about to reassure Ben and tell him that it's alright for her to speak with the officer, but was interrupted by the colonel, who drew his gun, pointing it at Ben, which made Savannah's eyes open wide in shock. She gasped out loud. Coming from a big city, she may be able to ward off an attacker with out a weapon, but this was beginning to freak out as she felt herself shudder. She had moved quickly behind Ben for protection as the colonel barked, "I was not addressing you, sir! I want to know who this woman is! Come here and make yourself known, woman!"

The nerve! How dare he, she thought to herself. She then felt a bit braver as she cleared her throat.

"Quite a prig, aren't you, colonel?" she asked angrily from behind her bodyguard, who was protecting her with his arms spread out.

"A prig, eh?" the colonel asked with sarcasm as he put his gun down and chuckled at her remark. "Such a big word for a supposedly educated woman whose relatives are farmers."

She carefully walked around Ben and then cautiously around the colonel's huge MACK truck horse, making her way to the rude colonel and continued in a sharp tone, "sir, you will not point your weapons at innocent civilians, nor address them in such a way. You may be fighting their soldiers, but by no means are you to be unkind to civilians, by order of his majesty, King George and according to his rules of war!" She was about to mention the Geneva Convention, but stopped herself as she realized that didn't happen yet and not wanting to alter time with anything different.

When she finished what she was saying, she looked up and gasped. He gasped in unison with her, his eyes widening as he looked at her. He almost let his guard down by smiling at her, but he regained his composure, saying calmly, "you are quite impudent, aren't you madam?" He bowed sarcastically saying, "I apologize, but my manners and the rules of war do not mix." His tone changed suddenly as he continued. "This is not a tea party, madam. You will inform me as to who you are and what your business is here!"

She stood her ground and walked closer, so that she was right in front of him, making sure she got a good look at him and he at her. As soon as she approached, she noticed his eyes, putting her hand upon her chest, as it felt like it would jump into the horses mouth. They looked like William's. If this is William she thought, why is he being so mean? As Savannah put her hands on her hips ready to retaliate and making it a point to stare the colonel right in the eyes, Gabriel was making his way downstairs to possibly help his sweet Savannah any way needed.

She felt brave, realizing that this man, in no way would shoot her, or Ben, in front of all his men and especially in front of his family. She gave him a daring glare and raised her chin defiantly.

"You have already been informed of my business, colonel, if you were listening to your lieutenant. And if you really must know my name sir, I am Mrs Savannah Fabré- Gordon, registered nurse and future medical student. You may address me as Mrs. Fabré-Gordon," she said haughtily, adding Dale's last name so that it would be difficult for the rude colonel to use when addressing her.

Not able to see Gabriel making his way down toward her, she didn't see him widen his eyes in shock as she said her name.

"Madam," the rude colonel started politely, nodding at her in courtesy. His tone then changed to complete sarcasm with an emphasis on 'doctor' as he continued a remark with a touch of sarcasm, "or should I say 'doctor?'" He emphasized 'doctor' scathingly as he went on. "You may address me as Colonel Tavington. You will come back with us to meet with Lord Cornwallis so we may determine your business and position here."

Without taking his eyes off of her, he called, "Captain Bordon! Take this...Dr., Mrs. Fabre`- Gordon back to Charles Town. I shall meet up with you momentarily." The Martin children were on the porch clinging onto Abigale, giving their father and Savannah frightened looks and shaking their heads.

"Yes colonel," Captain Bordon replied obediently and got off his horse, walking quickly toward her and grabbed Savannah's arms roughly from behind, but she gave him a little tug and flipped him over her shoulder and was standing over him in a slight defense position.

Oh crap, she thought to herself, as she looked down into the baffled face of the young officer. Gabriel, Ben, Meg Martin, the hired hands, including Abner, even several of the soldiers looked shocked and then let out guffaws, giggles and snickers at the captain, who was completely shocked laying flat on his back and his helmet off of his head, revealing a queued head of lush, red hair that matched Savannahs. Dust was flying everywhere as the soldiers that were nearby waved their hands in front of their cackling faces, attempting to push the flying debris away. The colonel did not seem to be amused but was equally shocked.

"Mrs. Fabré-Gordon," he said firmly, trying not to smile at the brazenness of this gorgeous woman. "If need be, I will carry you to Charles Town on my back, so please cooperate. We're not fighting you. You are a member of the royal crown. Now," He gave her a wide grin and said sarcastically, "please be a good girl and follow Captain Bordon. Captain, you do not need to hold the future doctor like a prisoner. Get her on a horse."

She regained her composure, smoothed off her dress and replied dryly, "I just wanted to make sure that I was not a prisoner, Colonel Tavington. Of course I will cooperate." She cocked her eyebrow and stared right into his eyes and commented cheekily, "wouldn't want to give you a back injury from carrying me all the way to Charles Town now, would we?"

Colonel Tavington felt a genuine smile form on his face as he took in the actions and words of such an insolent and beautiful woman. She looks quite familiar, he thought to himself. I'll have to find out more of this brazen woman.

So this is William, or an evil twin brother. He is a creep, she thought. Captain Bordon got up, brushing the dust off of his uniform and hat, casting a dirty look at Savannah and extending his hand out to her saying disdainfully, "this way, madam."

She reluctantly gave in, deliberately ignoring his hand and thinking if this colonel was William she hoped he would carry her on his back. That would be interesting, she thought. Maybe even fun! Then I would find out what the hell is going on here.

She hesitantly followed the captain, glancing back in sorrow at the Martins. Ben was holding Thomas and Gabriel back as they all looked toward her with sad expressions on their faces, especially Meg, who was crying and waved at her. She heard Thomas say angrily at Ben, "father! Do something!" She turned around, waved back at the Martin family and mouthed "It's alright." She continued to follow Bordon until they stopped at his horse. He motioned to one of the Dragoons, telling them to bring her a horse, which began to freak her out.

"I don't know how to ride a horse," she said rapidly.

"You don't know how to ride a horse?" he asked in shock, then turned to face her. "Why not?"

She shook her head, "I don't know, captain!" she said with exasperation. "My parents probably thought it was dangerous or cruelty to animals. And frankly, I'm quite afraid of them."

He laughed out loud at her, quickly picking her up and placing her on his horse. "Afraid of horses, are you?" he asked snidely. "But you're not afraid to try injuring a Captain of his majesty's Green Dragoons, are you? Well, here," He paused, handing her bag to her. "Take your valise. You'll have to settle for riding with me then, won't you?" He paused again, giving her a sly grin and continued. "You won't throw me off the horse, will you?" he asked scathingly.

Snatching her bag out of his hands and slinging the strap across her shoulders, she put her other leg around the horse, crossed her arms in front of her and glared at him as he climbed behind her, squeezing close to her, noticing oddly that she pulled her other leg over the horse to ride like a man, but shrugged it off and directed the horse toward Charles Town with some officers following.

They seemed to be riding for quite a long time. She would feel herself fall asleep but would jerk awake, trying her hardest not to lean too much onto the captain. He had strong arms, but a little too beefy for her. Almost like he was a weight lifter. He had a firm arm around her waist as he led his horse with the other hand. She felt that they were dangerously close as she could swear that she felt his erection on her tail bone and could feel the distinct touch of his hot breath on her neck, which was making her very nervous as she shivered in repulsion.

She wiped sweat off her forehead with her hands and he let her go briefly, reaching into his pocket and handing her a handkerchief which she snatched angrily. The sun was getting hotter, the humidity was rising, and her butt hurt so badly from either his penis or a weapon that rubbed her backside for so long and the fact that she's never ridden a horse, she began to whimper.

"We'll stop to rest," Captain Bordon said tenderly in her ear, bringing his horse to a halt and jumping off.

He signaled to the rest of the troop, who stopped and began to dismount as well. He reached up and grabbed her off the horse, putting her down and letting her go as she moaned in pain, rubbing her backside. She felt her knees buckle, causing her to fall forward into his arms, as if she were Charlie Chaplin. He made a mad dash to her, holding her up tenderly and gazed into her eyes. She pushed him away roughly and continued to gently rub her backside.

"Hurts, does it?" he asked bitingly.

"Does what hurt, captain?" she asked.

"Why, you're lovely little bum, my dear," he said with a sly smile.

"Doesn't your big, fat old bum hurt you, captain?" she asked with sarcasm which made his smile disappear. "You're quite rude, aren't you captain, speaking of my bum?" she continued.

He questioned her back, "did I hear correctly? You are married? Where is your husband?"

She put her hands together and raised them over the head, bending over and stretching her arms and back, making crunching sounds, which made him go, "huh?" and giving her a curious look.

She slowly got up and said, "you're quite the cheeky fellow, captain. I am recently widowed. It was quite tragic. That's not the way a gentleman should act, is it, sir?" She stood up, rotated her neck and shoulders, making more crunching sounds, which made him grimace. "Asking me such questions and making bum comments, that is quite rude." She noticed something quite familiar about him, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"I am terribly sorry, madam. You are correct. I shouldn't have made such remarks. Please forgive me. I, Captain John Bordon, am forever at your service," he said, taking off his helmet and giving her an exaggerated bow.

"Get up," she said with slight aggravation. "I don't want or need your service, captain. I would like to stretch my legs a bit, if I may."

"Of course you may," he said lightly. "Provided, that I escort you. Heaven knows what's out there."

He put his helmet in the crook of one arm and extended his other arm out to her but she ignored it and with a slight stagger, started to walk ahead of him which made him give her an annoyed look as he tried to follow her quick pace.

They were walking in a field of beautiful amber grain that was swaying gracefully with the wind that had a little creek next to it. So, she thought, this is where they got the words for "America, the Beautiful."

As she walked through the grain, she put her hands over the swaying plants and was thinking where did she see this guy, why does he look familiar. He interrupted her thoughts by asking, "how did you do that?"

"Do what, captain?" she said, pulling a piece of amber grain and tugging it out of the ground. She played with it, looking at him innocently, assuming he was talking about the karate flip she gave him earlier.

"That thing that sent me sailing over your shoulders," he asked, cocking his head to the side, adding a mischievous smile. "How did you do that?"

"Well," she started. "Sir Isaac Newton gave me the idea. His theory on gravity gave me the advantage."

"Sir Isaac Newton? How so?" he asked with interest.

"You weigh more than I do, so when you used all of your weight and strength to apprehend me, I just made it work against you," she said matter-of-factly.

"But," he continued, his hand in the air and a look of confusion on his face. "How did you do it?"

"You want me to show you?" she asked.

"Yes, I do," he said quickly.

"I may have to flip you again, captain. Are you ready for another little trip?" She had a little smirk on her face, which he found captivating. He could not believe the hair on this woman, as if it were on fire. He felt a little quiver in his stomach as his eyes widened at the ravishingly beauty before him.

"You can flip me anytime, my dear," he said huskily, as he slowly started to walk toward her.

He was starting to scare her. He had a look in his eyes that she had seen before. Dale had it when he wanted her to be a member of the "mile low club" the last night they were together. She also saw it in the past with Jason and with her mystery man. Oh crap! How the hell am I supposed to fight this guy with all this dress on, she thought to herself.

She had a sudden brainstorm and realized that this man looks like the beefy English guy she met at the reenactment. He said he had past relatives that fought this war. She was wondering if this man was one of his relatives when she noticed that he was getting closer to her. She pulled off her bag and tossed it behind her, crouching down slightly, putting her arms up in a karate defense position which made her potential attacker look at her curiously when someone was shouting out to the captain.

"Bordon! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing with Mrs Fabré-Gordon!"

It was Colonel Tavington. He was galloping his MACK truck horse quickly towards them and Savannah quickly regaining her composure from the possible attack she may have had to fight off.

When he approached them, he jumped off his horse and ran to Captain Bordon, ready to hit him with a backhanded slap.

"Colonel, the lady wanted to take a walk! We had been riding for quite some time. Nothing happened," he stammered.

"Nothing happened because I got here just in time, captain! Go back to your horse! We're leaving! I will escort the lady now," he said, motioning to Bordon. The captain hurried off to his horse, leaving the angry colonel, who then turned slowly with eyes ablaze with fury and snapped at her.

"That was incredibly stupid of you, madam! Walking alone with a man that probably hasn't had a woman in a long time! God knows what he could have done to you!" His rich, blue topaz eyes widened with blazed anger at her. He grabbed her by the arms so that she faced him, which reminded her of how Dale handled her the other night. "You are never to do that again, do you understand me?" he barked, shaking her and his eyes still ablaze. "Perhaps I should have carried you on my back!"

"Let me go, creep!" she said angrily, pulling her arms from his grip. "How do I know the last time he got lucky? Besides," She broke off, lifting her chin and asking defiantly, "who the hell are you and how dare you speak to me in such a way? Why did you take me away from those kind people I was staying with?"

He cast a curious glance at her and repeated, "Creep? Hell? Such a mouth, madam. I should take you over my knee for that."

"Yes, creep!" she shrieked. "Only a creep would take a woman over his knee! And...and carry one on his back like a caveman. Try to do either with me, and I won't be responsible for my actions, colonel! You saw what I did to your captain earlier, so what makes you think I won't do that again," she spat back at him. She shook her head at him in confusion and asked, "who are you, sir?"

He glared at her with anger and strange enough, passion stating, "I am William Tavington, madam, and it is my duty to make certain that the civilians and significant others of my fellow countrymen are safe and sound! Especially from rebels! So therefore," he continued. "I shall be responsible for my actions!"

She gasped when he said his name, looking up into his eyes and saw the same blue steel color she had seen on the bike path and at the Martin's party. She felt her heart pound hard in her chest, her head start to swim with the memories of the past back in the future, and felt faint. "Ohhh!" she said, and everything went black, collapsing into his arms.

As he held her limp body carefully in his arms, he thought curiously, "how can this extremely brave woman faint so easily?"

Shaking his head with amusement, he picked her up, carried her toward the little stream that was nearby and laid her gently down on the ground. He removed his helmet and gloves, laid them next to her and ran to get some water. He returned to kneel next to her, flicking a few drops onto her face and gently caressing his wet fingers to her porcelain skin. She is so impertinent, and beautiful, he thought. I simply adore a strong women. He was gazing down at her and drinking in her beauty with wild thirst. Those lips, those eyes, that hair. I haven't seen a woman with red hair since....he thought breaking off to caress her lips with his damp forefinger. He fingered her hair, playing with the strands and "oohing" at the softness that her conditioner had left on her hair. Like silk, he thought. Lovely woman. Quite a shame she's married. Quite a mouth she has on her with words and... "sigh.." beautiful lips. I feel quite sorry for her husband, he thought with a chuckle. He took her hand and laid it against her stomach when he noticed something odd about her nails. He picked up her hand and examined it carefully and curiously, wondering why in the world they were so long and what was on the tips of them. "Is that paint," he said to himself as he felt how soft and warm her tiny hands were. He felt the compulsion to kiss the palm of her hand gently, which he did ever so carefully as she continued to be out like a light. He held her hand and just gazed at her, touching her forehead gently with his cool, damp fingers, hoping to awaken her. He was caressing her lips again when she began to stir after a few minutes, her eyes fluttering into focus. She looked up and saw William staring down at her.

"Have a nice nap, darling?" he asked, grinning down at her.

She looked at him and felt a compulsion to touch his face, which she did tenderly. He was surprised at first, but let his guard down, closing his eyes and allowing her to continue caressing his face with gentle, warm strokes. She whispered, "William" and he looked at her with wide-eyed surprise when she said his name. It has been so long since I've been touched by a beautiful woman, he thought to himself. He closed his eyes again, murmuring and turning to her hand and giving it a gentle, hot and lingering kiss upon her palm.

"Oh God!" she exclaimed suddenly, getting up abruptly and almost hitting his chin with her head.

"What? What is it? What's wrong?" he asked.

"This isn't a dream," she said. "its real, isn't it? I'm not dreaming, am I William?" She gave him a curious glance as she poked his chest and asked quickly, "may I call you William?"

"Yes," he said, allowing a small smile creep upon his face and still holding her hand with a slightly puzzled look on his face and wondered why she thought this was a dream. He gently rubbed the area of his chest she poked and said warmly, "you may call me William, in privacy of course. Well, for now, shall we? What may I call you?"

She looked up and said, "Savannah, in privacy as well. Otherwise, Mrs. Fabré-Gordon will do."

"Well, Savannah," he started. "Despite the fact that I would love to be here all afternoon with you, we really should get going. I don't want my men to think that I have ravished you in any way."

He let her go, reached for his helmet, gloves, her bag, extended his hand out to her and held her bag out to her. As she took her bag and his hand, he asked with a little smirk, "by the way, how did you throw Captain Bordon? I would like to know how strong you really are."

She still felt a little dizzy, feeling her knees buckle causing her to stagger. He dropped his accessories and let her fall back into his arms.

"We really need to stop meeting like this," he said sarcastically, smiling down at the emerald green eyes.

They were gazing into each others eyes, feeling each others heart beat in unison. She dropped her bag behind him and slowly put her arms around his neck, fondling his queue. He held her for what seemed like an eternity, just gazing into those sparkling green eyes which sent shivers up and down his back. He rubbed her back and slowly led one hand onto her buttock, gently squeezing it and running his other hand through her luscious hair. This touching reminded her of their night at the Martin's house back in the future. But it was like a dream, she thought to herself. If this is a dream, she thought to herself as she freed one of her arms and caressed his cheek with the back of her hand, why does it feel so real? He was getting excited with the tender touching from her warm, soft hand, she feeling it against her thigh through her petticoats, which made her gasp slightly. She felt her nipples harden, making her just as excited as he was.

"You are bewitching me, my sweet." he whispered. "I feel as if I've known you my entire life."

He bent his head toward her neck and nibbled gently on her earlobe, making her arch her back and moan in pleasure. He tickled her ear with his tongue, tracing the shape of it and causing goose bumps to form on her neck. He murmured a satisfied snicker as his burning mouth made its way to her neck, touching the little goose bumps with his lips and tongue. Her knees buckled again, but he kept a firm hold on her.

She muttered, "holy moley," making him pause and cast her a curious glance at this interjection. "What are you doing to me? Who are you?" she asked in barely a whisper.

He paused, looking at her in surprise and without warning, she pulled him hard to her and kissed him. She just couldn't hold back. She'd been wanting to do this since that Saturday night in 1999. He resisted a bit at first, but responded quickly and with a passion that seemed to be built up for years.

He opened her mouth with his burning tongue, letting it flick in and out of her mouth, causing her to moan. He was licking her lips and teased her tongue with his when she suddenly responded by sucking on his tongue and then his lower lip.

This caught him by surprised and he pulled away, eyes open wide saying, "madam! You are married! We must stop!" He held her at arms length, his hands firmly gripping her shoulders.

"William," she said, staggering slightly. "I'm widowed. But you're right, we should stop before we go any further. I don't think I can control myself."

He looked at her with tenderness and said kindly, "I didn't know you were widowed. I am terribly sorry. How did your husband die?"

She said sadly, "well, we were riding along," trying her best to make up a believable story. "Out of nowhere, we ended up in the middle of a battle. All I saw were blue coats, and red coats... and guns, and I heard cannons firing, and..." She broke off in concentration as she racked her brain for something else convincing, but he took it as sadness, making him reach into his pocket and pull out a handkerchief, handing it to her. "And the next thing I know," she continued with a sniff as she took the hanky and dabbed exaggeratedly at her eyes with it, trying to be sincere. "I'm running away as fast as I could! I ran so far and for so long I just laid down to rest by the little river next to the farm that you found me at."

She cast him a glance to see if this story would work, and he put his arms around her, giving her a very warm and compassionate hug.

"I am terribly sorry, my darling. How tragic for you, and how could I take advantage of you when you are in such a delicate position?"

He smiled warmly at her and continued. "He must have been well off, giving you quite a large diamond and silver ring. And he had set up tutors for you to learn medicine? Or did your parents do that?" Taking her hand into his and fingering the engagement ring Dale had given her, he looked at her, waiting for an answer. She shook her head and continued her act.

"Mexican silver, is it?" he asked, as he touched the silver necklace, touching her chest with warm fingers. Very wealthy, he thought to himself. Obviously from quite an esteemed family. Perhaps her parents did set her up with tutors, he continued to think.

She closed her eyes at his touched and sighed. "My husband was an attorney," she fibbed. Well, he would have been if he passed the Bar, she thought to herself, so this isn't quite a lie. William responded, kissing and then letting go of her left hand slowly.

"Well, the attorney was quite lucky to have you, for the short amount of time that he had you for," he said tenderly.

He gazed at her deeply with those blue eyes that made her knees weak back in the twentieth century and said gently, "it's good that we've stopped for I wouldn't be able to control myself either. Seeing as you are widowed," He paused for a moment, gave her a curious look and asked, " may I court you?" He had a sarcastic smile about his face, making her laugh out loud.

"You are quite charming, aren't you colonel? Here we are, discussing the death of my husband and the first thing you think of is dating..er..." she interrupted herself as he gave her a curious look when she said dating.

"You want to know if I'm available or at your disposal," she asked. "Do you have the time to wait for my mourning period and be able to court a young widow? With this war and such going on, how will you ever find the time to do things with me?" She cast him a casual glance and continued, "what I would really like to do is get something to eat and some sleep. I didn't get much sleep last night, tending to his majesty's soldiers." She knew she was being glib, but that seemed to attract the best of them, so she thought as the result of her relationship with Dale.

He reached for his black furry hat and looked at her with a sarcastic smile, saying, "oh, I see, madam. I've exhausted you. And now, you're hungry?"

"Well," she started. "I have been playing Dr. to a bunch of wounded soldiers all day. I haven't had anything to eat since you took me away from the Martins."

"We shall find you something to eat as soon as we can," he replied. "We aren't too far from Middleton Place. We should be there in a few hours. We'll find accommodations for you, especially since you're so far from home. You've no where else to go. Lord Cornwallis will most definitely like to speak to you, as well as I since I want to know everything about you, my dear."

He extended his arm out to her, which she took gingerly. They walked toward the horses, noticing that the soldiers scampered back to their own horses as soon as they had seen them coming back. The men were gawking at the colonel with the beautiful Mrs. Fabré-Gordon on his arm. They all mounted their steeds at the nod of Colonel Tavington.

Savannah gasped when they approached his MACK truck sized horse, saying "holy crap" to herself. That animal is huge!

"What did you say?" he asked as he put his helmet on. "Did you say crap? What is crap?" He held her arm, gave her a disapproving glance and stated, "that doesn't sound like a good word to say."

She stopped suddenly and realized she had said 'crap' out loud and looked at the monstrous animal, pulling sharply out of William's grasp.

"What's wrong, Mrs. Fabré-Gordon?" William asked.

"Will I be riding with you on that animal?" she asked nervously.

He looked confused, replying, "well, I do not intend to ride you to Middleton Place upon my back, though I think you may enjoy that as much as I would."

She shot him a look and said, "I'm terribly frightened of horses. I don't know why. Perhaps I was bucked off one when I was too young to remember." She really was afraid of horses. Being raised in the city, the only horses she ever saw was on Michigan Avenue with the carriages for tourists. She glanced up at William, who started to laugh.

"Silly girl! Frightened of horses? Don't worry, you'll be fine! Henry is gentle as a kitten. Put your hands on my shoulders please," and he picked her up, popping her upon Henry with ease.

He handed her the matching purse that she almost forgot about and slung it across her shoulders as she made her other leg go onto the other side of Henry. He noticed how odd she was riding, but seeing as she's frightened of horses and most likely hasn't ridden one, he shrugged it off as he climbed up on Henry. He slid behind her and shifted a bit, almost snuggling his body against hers until he seemed to find a comfortable position, which made them extremely close, as if they were molded together. His legs were warm and strong resting hard against the back of hers, which made her shiver slightly in excitement.

"Are you cold?" he asked, slowly wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Uh..nooo," she said. "You're just really close to me, literally," emphasizing 'really' to him.

He snickered which made her stiffen as he whispered in her ear, "not too close for comfort I hope?"

"I'm fine, colonel," she replied hastily.

William called out to his troops and they were off. As they rode awhile, Savannah felt an inclination to rest her head back against his chest and her hands on the arm that held her around the waist, keeping her extremely close to him. She sighed and was finally feeling sleepy with the rocking gallop of Henry, the warm sun against one side of her face, and the warmth penetrating through William's uniform on her other cheek. She noticed that he smelled of lavender and slight sweat, which she found a little sexy.

"Mmm," she murmured to herself. Very manly, she thought.

"Sleep Savannah," he whispered in her ear. "Lean against me. We have a long ride. We'll be at Middleton Place by nightfall."

She didn't have to be told to sleep and despite she was riding quite close against his slightly rising penis, she closed her eyes and was able to doze off with his strong arms steadying her in place.

Continue...