Rising to his feet with an effort, Jamie reached down to help his brother up, then turned back to Jesse. He gave a wet, weary smile. "See you at Oakleigh."

"Yeah. See you at Oakleigh," Jesse said flatly. He stood watching them disappear into the shadows, unwilling to even look at Amanda. What could she say? What explanation could she give for her lies that would be believable? And what reason would she have for lying in the first place, unless she was the enemy.

Closing his eyes, Jesse had the miserable thought that he would hardly care if she was Lincoln's daughter. He still wanted her, and that inescapable fact was as galling as the knowledge that it went against everything he'd been fighting for these past three years…

Oakleigh was just ahead. Amanda could see the chimneys rising above the tops of the trees. In the uneventful day and a half since they'd liberated Jamie and Michael, Jesse had said very little to her. Beyond an occasional comment or general direction, he'd been remote and aloof. She had tried to explain once, but he'd just looked at her with shadowed blue eyes and said he didn't want to know.

Now they were within sight of the house and she knew she would have to tell him everything or lose it all. She'd thought-hoped? feared?-that like Sam Becket in the Quantum Leap television series, once she had accomplished her mission and saved Michael, she would be transported elsewhere. Or at the very least, wake up in her own bed at home. But it had not happened.

She was still here, and she didn't know quite what to do now except tell Jesse the truth. Then he'd probably have her committed to the nineteenth-century equivalent of an insane asylum, and she'd spend her final days knitting wool caps in a padded cell. If she knew another way, she'd take it. But she didn't.

"Jesse," she said when they reached the edge of the woods bordering the pasture behind the house, "I have to talk to you."

He jerked to a halt, his back stiff and straight. Afternoon sunlight glittered in his black hair, making it glisten. "I told you. I don't want to hear it."

"But-"

He whirled on her, and she was surprised at the fury and pain in his eyes as he snarled, "It doesn't matter, damn it. Do you understand that? It doesn't matter to me who you are."

Grief clogged her throat and brought tears to her eyes. "Why not?" she whispered. "It matters to me who you are."

"God." Jesse closed his eyes for a moment, and she saw his hands clench and unclench at his sides.

Moving to him, she stood on her toes and pressed a kiss on his jawline. His hands flashed up to grab her, and his fingers dug painfully into her upper arms. He looked down at her through the thick brush of his lashes.

"It doesn't matter, Amanda," he rasped. "If you tell me you're in league with the devil or the Yankees, I don't care. God help me-I don't care."

His last words were a groan, and she felt a flash of hope. For the first time since she'd awakened on the attic floor, she caught a glimpse of promise.

"Jesse-are you saying you love me?"

"I don't know if it's love or obsession, but whatever it is, you're all I think about." He looked despairing, and Amanda pulled free of his grasp and put both her palms on each side of his face.

"I love you, Jesse," she said softly. "I think I've loved you since I saw your face in a photograph when I was ten."

His brows knit in a frown and he shook his head. "I've fallen in love with a madwoman. I suppose they'll lock us up together one day."

"They may," she agreed, "especially if I ever tell anyone what I'm about to tell you."

"Amanda, I don't think I want to hear this."

"But you must. We have to be totally honest with one another. And if I don't tell you, you may always think I'm just crazy." She laughed shakily. "Or once I tell you, you may be convinced of it. Please? Let me tell you?"

Jesse gazed down at her for several moments before saying with a sigh, "All right. But I warn you-if you tell me things I think my commander should know about, I'll reveal them."

"No national secrets, I promise," she said. "Although what I intend to tell you may cause you pain, fortunately I don't know enough to influence the war either way."

Leaning back against the broad trunk of a tree, Jesse crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her steadily. "As long as we understand one another, you may say what you like."

"I know this will sound rather silly, but do you mind if we go up to the attic when I tell you? I think perhaps it will be easier there."

"The attic? Oakleigh's attic?"

She nodded. "Yes. I don't know why, but it all started there with your sister's wedding dress and a news clipping. Maybe it will be easier to explain if we go there."

Shaking his head, Jesse muttered, "None of this is going to make any sense, but I guess I've already committed myself to the deed."

She put a hand on his arm. "I want us to be alone when I tell you."

A faint smile curved his mouth. "I wonder just who will be more at risk?''

Chapter Ten

“This is it." Amanda draped the wedding dress over the open trunk and glanced up at Jesse.

He was regarding her with a stunned, disbelieving expression. "So you're saying that one minute you were living in 1994, and then you put on that dress and traveled back in time?" he repeated slowly.

Amanda managed a smile. "Basically. I know it sounds crazy. It would to me, too. But that's the only conclusion that 1 can reach. One minute I was in 1994, and then I fastened that last button, and the wind blew out the light and I got dizzy, and when I regained my senses, I was here. I don't know how else to explain it."

Jesse frowned. "Forgive me, but I find that very hard to believe."

"How do you think I knew about Michael and Jamie? There was an article in the Memphis paper dated June 19, 1864, telling how a Holly Springs man had been killed only six months after his wedding to a Memphis woman. The Yankees claimed Jamie was responsible. That suspicion ended up dividing the Brandon family, and in 1994, Oak-leigh would be sold. By preventing the feud, maybe we prevented the house from eventually being made into a mall."

Rising from the crate where he'd been sitting, Jesse walked over to the wedding dress. He didn't say anything for a long time, but stood looking down at the satin dress as if afraid to touch it.

Amanda watched silently. She wouldn't blame him if he didn't believe her. It was too fantastic for anyone to believe.

Finally, Jesse looked up at her. "So what will happen now? Do you put the dress on again and go back?''

"Go back?" she echoed. She'd already thought of that, of course. If the dress had gotten her here, it would probably take her back. All she would have to do is find the missing button, and she would be back home where she belonged.

Or did she?

Did she really belong there? She'd never felt like it. Jessica had been right when she'd said Amanda had been born in the wrong time. But could she adjust to living a hundred years too soon? The twentieth century was filled with marvels and timesaving conveniences. She remembered enough history to know that times in the South would be much harder before it was all over with. After the inevitable fall of the Confederacy, there would be Reconstruction and carpetbaggers and endless struggle.

But in 1994, there was also war and hunger and poverty. Times didn't really change, only people did. There had always been war, always been hunger and hard times. Until mankind figured out a way to avoid war and the other evils of the world, nothing would really change.

Here, there would be love and hope. And here there was Jesse…