Silent Echoes Part 15

Taylor angled up to him. "Because ... because I'd have sworn I had an out of body experience just now."

"Like ... aliens from s.p.a.ce came and s.n.a.t.c.hed you?"

She giggled but bobbled her head side to side against him. Into his s.h.i.+rt, she said, "I called you John."

"You did, yeah."

Taylor jumped back, out of Ian's arms. "You heard that?"

As loud and clear as the coyote that doesn't exist, yup. "Do you want me to have heard it?"

Her lips quirked up. "Can I ... can I try something?"

"Sure."

Taylor moved toward him again, slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. She tugged him toward her and merged her lips with his.

Ian accepted the kiss without hesitation, tilting his head left as she went right and reversing their positions a moment or two later.

Taylor slowed their progress, pulling back and meeting his gaze. "Nothing happened," she said.

"What did you expect?"

Her head shook. "I don't know. Something. Something ... weird. But you felt it, right?"

"I'm not sure what I felt, but you did call me John, and if you want to kiss me in the rain again, I'm happy to oblige." Always. Forever.

"We better go." Taylor slipped her hand to Ians, and together they walked back to the car.

Standing at the driver's side door, Ian gazed out at the yard, and in his mind's eye, a large oak loomed in just the spot where Taylor had stood.

When he blinked, it disappeared.

14.

Ian woke calm, nude and alone. He'd slept the sleep of the dead, waking at no time during the night. Rested and with as clear a head as he could believe possible, he slipped to the side of the guest bed, grabbed the robe Lexi always left draped over the chair and tied it on tight enough so Emma couldn't yank it off and attempt to embarra.s.s him.

m.u.f.fled sounds of chatter reached him from below. A check of the clock showed it to be close to nine, yet no one had bothered to wake him. The stair creaked beneath his foot, and the sounds in the kitchen stopped, but the scent of sweetness spiraled toward him.

Bypa.s.sing the empty living room, Ian ended up in the kitchen, where Lexi and Tripp sat on one side of the table with Emma across from them.

"Where's Taylor?"

"Who?" Emma sipped from a mug.

"Want some breakfast, Ian?" Lexi pushed to stand, but Tripp pressed her back down and rose.

"Uh ... Taylor?"

"Again, who?" Emma tipped the cup up.

Ian pulled out a chair and plopped into it. "What the h.e.l.l are you up to, Emma? Taylor. I brought her here last night."

"Maybe you were dreaming?" Not a hint of smile broke through.

"Huh?" Dammit, is that what's happening to me? Am I dreaming these out of body experiences?

"Dude, do you see Taylor here?" Emma asked.

Ian twisted left and right. "No." What the h.e.l.l is going on with me?

"Exactly."

He dropped his head into his hands. Had it all really been a dream?

Lexi chuckled.

Tripp's slap to the back of the head had Ian popping upright. "Emma's been ready to play that little charade since Taylor woke and told her about your midnight kiss in the rain. She's in the shower, by the way."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "You're one conniving little-"

"Sister." Lexi's interjection couldn't stop his thoughts or the smile.

"Payback's a b.i.t.c.h, Emma. Be prepared." He inclined his head toward her. "How are you, Lex?" Ian twirled a finger in her direction. "I mean ... you know."

"Well, the docs claimed there was nothing they could do so early in the game, and everything on the inside looked good, and I haven't had any problems since, so ... I think we're good." The bags under her eyes said her worries hadn't disappeared. She leaned into Tripp's body when his arm draped across the back of her shoulders.

Ian grabbed a banana from the bowl in the center. "What did Taylor say this morning?"

"She said you snore." Emma grabbed a lemon poppy seed m.u.f.fin from the tray.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do." Taylor's voice came from behind. "Sorry I didn't wake you, but you were sound asleep. I figured you could use it." The kneading of his shoulder muscles sent relaxing warmth through him. "And thank you, as well, for staying with me."

She'd asked him to sleep with her, and sleep they did. "Welcome." He lifted his mug and put it down, tilting his head in her direction but staring at Emma. "You are still on my s.h.i.+t list." He aimed a finger-pointed gun her direction.

"Ah, best watch what you say to me. I'm the one that has your plane booked to take you up to DC today to talk with Sherrill."

"Why?" Ian said as Taylor said, "Who?"

Emma tapped her chest. "Sherrill is the woman who has the photo Lexi told you about. She's going to give you a private viewing. Got a whole box of them, in fact. You get to go through them one by one and see if you can find the actual one Lexi described. Maybe we can match it up with an ancestor."

"Don't I have to stay here?" Taylor asked. "What with the bond and all that?"

"Probably." Tripp's smirk took hold of his lips. "But, what they don't know won't hurt them. And, with you two gone and out of our hair, Lexi can rest and relax, Emma can do whatever she does, and you'll be out working on finding the answer to who those bones were."

Mental note, get the original topology for Taylor's house. Find out if there was an oak.

"And ..." Emma said, "the plane is set to come back tomorrow night, so when the police have all their little duckies in a row, you'll be fine and dandy to go home, Taylor." Emma uncapped a clear tube and, from it, pulled out a stick-like Q-tip, though much longer. "This is a DNA test kit. We need a sample for Michael. So, if you would just-"

"How do you know how to do one of those?" Ian's surprise came through in his tone.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I read the directions." She waved the Q-tip in the air. "Open up. This will go off by courier, and if we're lucky, we'll have it back before the end of the week."

Taylor drew closer to Emma. "Anything to clear my name and be done with the c.r.a.p."

Emma closed in. "That would be nice, wouldn't it?"

a a a "A private airplane?" Taylor took her seat, belted in and tried to calm the b.u.t.terflies that had taken wing as soon as she stepped from the car.

"Yup." Ian took the spot next to her, leaving the entire rest of the ten-seat s.p.a.ce empty.

"How long have you had it?" The engines rumbled as they pushed backward.

Ian's belt clipped. "About five years, though we share it with a few people."

"It's gorgeous." The cream interior, married with a tan and light blue, soothed even as her stomach tightened. Along with the scent, she believed, for a moment, that she sat amidst a giant gingerbread cookie.

"You nervous?" he asked.

She stared hard out the window. The lineman waved them forward with his orange sticks. "A little. It's smaller than everything else I've been in."

"It's not a 747, but it does the trick." His hand slid under hers. "Our Captain is a thirty-year veteran of the fine establishment that is corporate money-sucking airlines."

Taylor linked her fingers with Ian's and held tight as the plane barreled down the runway and lifted from the earth.

"And his First Officer is his son, whom he has trained very well."

The thrust of the engines kept her glued to her seat. "Do they ever come back here?"

"Not unless we need them." He pointed to a handset. "We can call them or knock on the door, but otherwise, they work. We ... do whatever."

Once in the air, her body relaxed as if one with the empty s.p.a.ce that contained them. She leaned her head on Ian's shoulder. "I hear New York in your voice, but not strong, even though you said born and bred once."

"Born and bred is right. My parents are still there as is my brother." Ian's lips touched Taylor's forehead. "But, they come from the south. Grandma and Grandpa Sands were both southerners. My mom's parents, too."

Taylor closed her eyes, keeping herself attached to him. Just the way he talked about his parents and family told her he loved them. "Why'd they move north?"

"Jobs. My dad's a doctor, and he did his residency in Rochester. Ended up in White Plains, and they just stuck."

"And your brother's going to be a doctor, too?" Keeping her eyes closed, Taylor waited to hear his voice again, to listen to it, the soft lilt that came through when he lost the sarcasm. The strength in the depth of his tone.

"Supposedly, yes. He's smart, but he's also a smarta.s.s. One of his professors didn't think he was, and I quote, *physician material' because of his att.i.tude. Michael's out to prove them wrong, but still be himself." Ian's voice wrapped Taylor in warmth. "Someday, I'll own a farmhouse of my own."

She jolted upright, knocking Ian in the chin with her head. As he groaned, she said, "Sorry! Oh-oh, my G.o.d. Are you hurt?"

Ian shook his head, covering his mouth and rubbing his chin. "No. Just caught me hard. What happened? Did I bore you with my family history until you fell asleep and had one of those hypnagogic jerks?"

"I-" She'd heard him, in the same tone, same voice, clear as could be, telling her about his family only to switch to a more southern drawl and exclaim over a farmhouse-she knew she had.

Ian held Taylor with both hands. "What's going on? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I-" She didn't know what to say. Taylor lowered her gaze, dropped her forehead to Ian's shoulder. "I'm going crazy, that's all."

"Tell me."

"I'm sure it's just stress."

He kneaded the muscles around her shoulders. "Sometimes, keeping the crazy in is worse than letting it out."

Taylor let free a small laugh. "That's one way of doing it. Another would be to forget it all happened."

"What happened?" He c.o.c.ked his head to the side. "Wait-" His head angled to the other side. "Something like the other night?"

Taylor gave him a quick nod.

Ian fell back against the seat. "Tell me."

She drew in a deep breath. "I was listening to you and all of a sudden you said something completely off the wall."

"What was it?"

"Someday, I'll own a farmhouse of my own."

Ian snorted. "Well, that I did not say. Who'd want a farmhouse unless they're a farmer? I'm more a New York condo with all the amenities."

As much as Taylor wanted to smile, the fact voices and scenes had begun to play out in her mind without her control really began to worry her. The fact Ian wouldn't want a place she'd love to have added to the problems.

"Right. Yeah. Sure," she said and snuggled back into the crook of his arm.

The plane began its descent as the two fell into silence, and upon wheels touching ground, their pilot opened up the c.o.c.kpit door. "Welcome to Was.h.i.+ngton."

a a a A car ride later, Taylor and Ian arrived at Sherrill's house. Together, they traipsed up the limestone path dotted with spring flowers of pink, red and white. A b.u.mble bee buzzed in the center of a lavender sprig.

The front door opened before they reached it, and a woman in her mid-sixties, with flowing, auburn hair, dressed in a pantsuit of raspberry silk, stood in the entry. "Welcome!" Her face lit up as she held her hands wide. "Ian, Taylor. So good to meet a few more of the faces I've been hearing about."

Taylor took the three steps first.

Sherrill clasped her hands around Taylor's. "Emma's told me a little about you, but she didn't mention just how beautiful you are."