The Messenger: Mortal Beloved Time Travel Romance, #1 by Pamela DuMond Read Free Book Online Page A

wooden wagon that was tipped over on its side. “Abigail!” She skidded to a stop, and awkwardly fell onto her knees next to me.
    “It is a miracle you are alive!” She burst into tears, and threw her arms around me. “I knew it. I felt it in my soul. God wouldn’t let you die. You had to be here.” She hugged me tight.
    Her embrace filled me with joy, but practically killed my back and my ribs. I winced.
    Elizabeth understood and released me slowly back to the earth. She frowned and fussed over me. “Your head is bleeding. I need to see your wound.” She smoothed my bloody hair back from my forehead. “It is deep, but I believe if we use the doctor’s medicine, it will heal just right,” she said. “Where else do you have pain?”
    I tried to shrug my shoulders, but that hurt too, so I stopped. “I’m okay, I think.” I didn’t tell Elizabeth that this moment only existed in my dream; that the next minute we might be wearing tutus, eating cupcakes at some cute bakery, and dishing about guys. This definitely wasn’t the time to tell her that.
    Elizabeth’s male guardians arrived and stared at me, relieved but worried.
    “William.” Elizabeth pointed at the older man. “Give Abigail water.” He did. Elizabeth propped me up, as I sipped from a small metal cup. “When I heard the rumors that Philip’s warriors attacked the Endicott settlement, I went mad with worry,” she said. “Dearest cousin, I prayed you were alive.” She blinked, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “My prayers are answered because here you are, Abigail. You are the only one alive. God has plans for you.”
    Even though this was a terrible nightmare, Elizabeth was kind.
    “Thank you for rescuing me,” I said and stopped talking, because even I heard those words exit my mouth. They were quiet words, but sounded normal. At least I wasn’t some daft mute in this dream.
    “I’m really sorry, but…” I put my hand to my head where it throbbed like crazy. “I’m not sure where I am.”
    “You have been through a distressing ordeal. I cannot imagine what you have seen.” She motioned to the young man behind her. “Daniel hand me the medicinals.” He gave her a flask.
    She leaned back toward me with the tin cup re-filled with water. “Drink this. You are safe for now,” she said. “But we need to leave here quickly.”
    I glanced around; saw all the dead, twisted bodies and the burning cabin. I looked up into the sky that had puffs of smoke and birds flying through them cawing to each other, like old friends saying hello. How could all these birds be so calm during this bloodbath?
    I started shaking again. “Where am I?”
    “All will be fine.” She held the cup next to my lips. “Drink.”
    I did. Almost immediately I felt relaxed, calmer. I wondered where all those birds were going, and I remembered the beautiful, young man dressed in animal skins, with long black hair that curled around his shoulders.
    My body felt tingly, my brain a little fuzzy. I swear I saw Mama standing behind Elizabeth. She regarded me with a flash of excitement in her clear eyes. She held up something small that was overall dull, but still had a hint of a sparkle. I couldn’t make out what it was.
    But Mama was so excited and said, ”Look Madeline! It’s an important piece of our puzzle. I think I found the place where this puzzle piece fits just perfectly.” She laughed and grabbed my six-year-old hands. We giggled and twirled in circles in the center of a green, grassy field filled with wild flowers.

Chapter 7
    W hen I woke , Mama was gone. I was lying on some kind of mat on a wooden floor next to a big, stone fireplace in a dark room lit only by fat, drippy candles. There were logs stacked in bundles nearby, leaning against a rough wall.
    I was covered in blankets and sweating buckets. A thick, cloth bandage covered the gash on my forehead and poked down toward my right eye.
    I blinked, wiggled my hand out from the cocoon