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new home for herself in the future. With Mike. |
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She hurried to the Wynne wagon and found her tote bag. Reaching inside, she made certain the plastic box was there; Arlen seemed fine now, and the box should not be left in a time before even its material had been invented. She assured herself she had her fossil rock. |
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The sky was leaden, the air more damp than on any other day since their arrival, perhaps portending rain. Dressed in her bonnet, a long skirt, and a soft green blouse, Abby headed across the nearly bare earth of the homestead site, away from the field her father planned, away from the river, away from any direction in which she was likely to be seen. She secluded herself beneath the bowed branches of a solitary willow tree. |
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She knew of no ancient sites about here that would contain the magic of the two places from which she had been catapulted from one time to another. She wished she had one of Mike's books that listed others. But surely her fossil rock would be enough. She thrust from her mind the possibility that the rock might only assist her in one journey through time. |
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Arranging her skirt beneath her, she sat in the shade, listening to the wind rustle the leaves on the weeping limbs. She thought of Mike. Would he be waiting for her? Would he still be angry? Nervously she pulled at the ribbons beneath her chin. |
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She would simply have to tell him the truth of why she'd returned to the past. He'd said he loved her. Surely he would forgive her. |
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