Garden of the Moon by Elizabeth Sinclair Page B

gathered behind her eyelids. Warm moisture trickled from beneath them and down her cheek.
    “Please, don’t cry. It breaks my heart.” The voice quivered as though the speaker was trying to hold back painful emotions. A kiss fluttered across her skin, and the moisture was gone. “I know you tried, but don’t give up. You’ll find a way to come back to me. I know you will. But first, you must get well and stay well. You must eat and rest and stay strong.” A hand smoothed her forehead. “Now, sleep. Sleep, my love.”
    Sara sighed and allowed herself to be lulled back into a deep sleep by the hand caressing her cheek.
     
    ***
     
    In the next days, Sara often felt the touch of that hand and heard that loving voice urging her to get well. With each visit from the voice, she found new strength. Then another voice, a woman’s, had penetrated the fog in which Sara was enclosed and pressed her to swallow something that was sometimes bittersweet, sometimes salty. Whenever she thought about refusing it, that tender voice would fill her head… You must get well, my love .
    In her cloudy state, she didn’t know why, but she knew she had to obey the voice. She had to . There was something she needed to do, something very important, and she had to get well to do it. What that something was, she couldn’t focus in on; she just knew it was urgent.
    Gradually, as the days passed, the man’s voice came less often as did the woman with the funny tasting liquids. And slowly, Sara became more lucid, more aware of her surroundings.
    She had no idea how long she’d been ill, but one morning, she woke up to sunshine pouring through her windows and bathing her face in warmth, birds sang in the trees outside and, although weak, she found herself feeling much better than she had in days. As she lay there, she shifted her gaze from the beautiful day outside the window to the painting above the mantel.
    In her heart, she knew it had been his voice that had come to her and given her the strength to fight her way back. And she knew why. Now that she was well again, she had to renew her search for the key to going back to Jonathan’s time. But this time, she’d do it sensibly and not let it possess her every waking moment. She had to be well to go back to him.
    Jonathan’s hand had stroked her brow and whispered love words to her. He had encouraged her to get well, and she would not let him down.
    She smiled at Jonathan’s portrait. “Thank you.”
    “Who you talkin’ to, Miss Sara?” Raina stood in the doorway, her brow furrowed, her hands clutching Sara’s breakfast tray. The woman’s sharp gaze scanned the empty room.
    For a moment Sara had no answer. Then she grinned weakly. “You, Raina. I was thanking you for taking care of me. You did nurse me back to health, didn’t you?”
    Raina set a tray containing a cup of steaming tea and a small bowl of Chloe’s special oatmeal slathered in sweet cream and warm honey on the bedside table. “Course I did. Me and Miss Julie. That girl fretted over you somethin’ fierce. I thought she’d be takin’ to her bed, too, and I was gonna be nursin’ both of you.” She clicked her tongue in typical Raina fashion.
    Sara struggled to sit up, but Raina stopped her. “I want to sit up to eat.”
    “Don’t you be doing too much right off. Here, let me help.” She leaned Sara forward then fluffed both her pillows and piled them behind her back and then tucked the eiderdown quilt close around her body. “Now, you just leans back, and I’ll put dis tray on your lap.”
    Finding that, even if she wanted to, she wasn’t strong enough to protest, Sara did as she was told. She picked up the spoon.
    “Now, you eats slow. Hear? You ain’t had solid food in you for a time. Gobblin’ down that food ain’t gonna do you no good.”
    Sara nodded and took a half spoonful of oatmeal. As she slid it into her mouth, she glanced at Raina who was standing over her like a guard over a