Riding the Thunder - Deborah MacGillivray [119]
She took the box with a trembling hand, almost too terrified to open it. Finally she flipped the lid back. In the dim light coming from the diner, the pale yellow stone gathered the ambient illumination and then reflected it. It was brilliant, a lovely stone, not too small, not too big. As Goldilocks might say, it was just right.
“Marry me?” Jago asked.
Tears came to her eyes as she stared first at the stone, then at the man she loved more than her life. “Yes.”
It was that bloody simple.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Tommy, I’m scared. What are they doing?
Heart pounding, Asha struggled to wake up. She was Asha Montgomerie, yet somehow she was also there with Laura Valmont—and Laura was with her, in her. Since Christmas Eve, the visions of the past that had remained quiet through the days when Jago was away were suddenly back. She wasn’t sure what had triggered them; vaguely, she wondered if it might have had something to do with her engagement ring, though she remained unsure quite why.
One of those silly things, she’d taken the ring off to wash dishes and forgot where she’d left it. She had panicked, fearing she’d lost it. Assuring her it was insured, Jago found where she’d placed it on a saucer. He had taken her hand, slid it onto the soapy fingers and then kissed her cheek. Silly man didn’t understand it wasn’t the monetary value. No ring would be like this one.
“I considered giving it to you for Christmas,” he’d informed her. “Thought it might be the perfect time.”
She leaned up on her tippy-toes and brushed her lips against his.“You chose the perfect time. Absolutely perfect.”
Even as she spoke the words, she felt something pulling at her and had to fight against being sucked into 1964, into Laura’s life. She wondered if Tommy had given an engagement ring to Laura at Christmas, or maybe planned to but never had the chance. The sadness of the possibility haunted her.
After that incident, the images began to invade her sleep, where she couldn’t resist them.
The wind whipped at her hair—at Laura’s hair—through the open window of the bright red Mustang. Tommy sped up when the jolt hit, rocking the whole car. Up ahead the cement truck was slowing down, making a left turn. Again a hard jolt came. Tommy spun the wheel, trying to avoid crashing into the rear of the huge truck.
Horns blaring, metal smashing, pain searing through her body, Laura screaming . . .
Asha jerked up in the bed, her scream melding with Laura’s as Mike Duncan’s song played insider her head.
If I only had the time
If I could find just another line
If I held you one more day . . .
So strongly did she hear it that for a moment she wondered if it wasn’t actually playing. But no. Just tricks of her subconscious. Sweat covered her body and her heart slammed painfully against her ribcage. She placed a hand to her chest, willing the vibrations in her blood to slow. Every nerve ached.
Glancing out the huge bedroom window at the falling snow, she sought reassurance of where she was, who she was. She smiled faintly upon seeing the winter wonderland. A total whiteout, the weathermen were calling it. After several steadying breaths, she recalled it was the day after New Year’s, and that she was snowbound at the river house. Snowbound alone with Jago? Now there was heaven!
Why couldn’t they have had this snow for Christmas Eve? It would have made an absolutely perfect background for the beautiful time. She’d loved shopping in Lexington with Jago. One of the few times of the year she enjoyed going into the traffic-riddled city. There was something so special about the Yuletide decorations, the hum and bustle as they shopped for gifts for family and friends. There had been a two-story carrousel at Turfland Mall, and Jago had taken her to ride the painted ponies. He gave her special gifts, some small like the pair of garnet earrings in the shape of hearts, some silly like the Frederick’s of Hollywood female elf costume—though she figured that was his gift as much as for her. The lovely vivid blue pashmina shawl.