He held out his hand.
“I’m not your wife, you idiot! I think you’re the one who’s insane if you think that.” I reeled away from Marcellious.
“Sweetheart,” he said, placing his arm around my shoulders, “let’s just head back to the others, shall we?”
I wriggled out from under his arm. “No! I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re not my husband!”
“I’m sorry, sir. This is how she’s been since we lost our baby.” Marcellious lifted his palms in the air.
I swung at Marcellious’s jaw, but it glanced off him ineffectually.
“Sweetheart,” Marcellious said in a warning tone.
“I’m not your sweetheart. I’m nothing to you,” I said, lowering my head to butt his chest.
He stepped quickly out of the way.
“Look, miss. I’m sorry you thought I was your father, and I’m truly sorry you’ve suffered. I know what it’s like to suffer,” the man said, interrupting my tirade.
I glanced over at him. I’d been so incensed at Marcellious that I’d nearly forgotten the man was here.
“Don’t apologize,” I said, peering at him. “You have my father’s face. I thought you were my father, but I was mistaken.”
“Perhaps I can explain,” the man said, spreading his arms wide. “There’s probably a reason I look like your father.”
“There is? What is it?”
“Well, I have a confession to make. I allowed you to speak longer than I should have. I probably should have stopped you when you began.” A sheepish, apologetic expression dragged at his features. “But I became fascinated by your story.”
“You did?” My eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“I’ve studied Timebornes for most of my life.”
My head drew back as if he had slapped me. “What? What do you mean?”
“Allow me to introduce myself.” He took a step forward and extended his hand. “My name is John James.”
Olivia
Standing in the foothills above the tribal encampment, I stared unblinking at the man before me.
The creek continued to gurgle, and the birds kept chirping, but I stood, shocked. “You’re John James? But you look like my father. How is this possible?”
I glanced at Marcellious, who seemed as dumbfounded as me.
John flashed me a benign, friendly smile. “Believe me, I have answers and a few questions of my own. I spend so much time in isolation—nobody wants to hear what I say. Might you do me the honor of speaking with me at my place? It’s not far from here. It’s a comfortable dwelling to share my thoughts.”
He swept his arm to the right, keeping that pope-like smile on his face.
I continued to stand like a gaping moron.
Marcellious said, “I will go with you.”
“And you, miss?” John James said. “Will you join me also?”
I glared at Marcellious, then turned to John James and nodded. “My name’s Olivia. And this is Marcellious.”
“Perfect! It’s a pleasure!” John James said.
