Salem, MA 1692
She sat by the window, the sewing in her lap forgotten. Her heart pounded with every second that he was missing. How could he do this to her again? He’d promised to be home and tuck the children into bed. Her dark brown eyes were glued to the window and watched the shadows dance upon the ground.
Sighing she stood, gently placing her sewing in the chair. She’d approach him in the morning and hopefully he’d tell her the truth. She turned to go to her room, untying her apron and laid it on the kitchen chair. Pulling the pins out of her hair she followed the pale light coming from a candle.
It felt good, she thought as her long red hair fell to her waist. It had amazed her how often her children looked like their father. All three of them, golden hair, and blue eyes with such an easy going nature.
She began unbuttoning her dress and shimmying out of it. So lost in her thoughts about her husband she never heard him come into the house, let alone their room. She jumped when she felt his hands around her waist and him pulled against him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his lips brushing over her porcelain shoulder, his hands working up her stomach.
“I am sure you are.” She turned in his arms and pressed her lips against his. “I want another one James. Let me have another child.”
“You remember what the physician said. You’ve had your limit my dear and you’ll have to be content with it.”
“Please James,” she pleaded. He had no idea what she had seen that morning, the death and destruction that would come to their town.
“Will it make you happy if we try?” He asked, cupping her breasts.
“Of course,” she said breathlessly.
He bent and pressed his lips to hers and moved lower. He loved his wife and would always love her. He murmured to her in their native Scottish tongue, his brogue thick with emotion and need.
Olivia MacAllister sat straight up in bed, her body sweaty. That was the millionth time she’d had that dream since she was fifteen years old. It haunted her almost every night and she wished it just get the hell out of her head.
The man was beautiful, tall and golden. His blue eyes flickered in the candle light showing exactly what he wanted and she could feel what the woman wanted.
While she, being only eighteen, wanted to get out of the small town she lived in. Looking at the clock she couldn’t help but smile, four hours until she started on tour with the Backstreet Boys. It had miraculous the way she had been founded in a local talent search and given time in a nearby recording studio. Even though her single had been out for nearly six months, she still got a thrill when she heard her song, ‘Ocean Angel’ on the radio.
Stretching out in her bed she yawned and then threw her legs over the side of her bed. Well, might as well hop in the shower and start getting around, four hours could go by so quickly, she thought.
Gathering her jeans and t-shirt she left the room. The dream still lingered in her mind as she walked to the bathroom and climbed in the shower.
***
Nick Carter sat at the front of their tour bus. He couldn’t believe this was happening again, he had thought that Never Gone would be their last album, especially after Kevin left the group. Yet, here he was again on the bus that had been home for a very long time.
He flipped through a magazine one of the roadies had left on the table; he needed something to get his mind off everything. A picture and article caught his attention. The girl in it was pretty, her dark auburn hair fell to her waist and her dark eyes sparkled and her full rosebud mouth was curved; he could vaguely see a sprinkling of freckles across a straight nose with wire-framed glasses and high-cheekbones.
She was definitely the type he’d go for in any other circumstances, or at least that was what he thought until he began to read the article. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t date her, eight and half-years was too big off an age gap.
He heard another car pull up and glanced out the window. He didn’t have a clue as to who they were waiting for, but he was getting impatient. Standing he walked down the steps, leaving the article on the table forgotten, and watched as a petite frame climb out of the car.
She was a sight, her hair pulled through the back of a Detroit Tigers ball cap wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He waited for her to notice him and could only stare as she pulled a suitcase out of the backseat.
She turned toward him, sensing almost immediately that someone was there. Her smile fell when she saw the man. It wasn’t possible; the man from her dreams was standing in front of her.
“James?” She asked hesitantly stepping forward.
“No, Nick and you are?” He shook his head and walked forward.
“My name is Olivia MacCallister and I’m a whole lotta trouble.” She replied, the grip on her suitcase tightening.