Timeless Storm: Timeless Hearts Series, #5

By Sandra E Sinclair

Ryder Lucore has an unusual relationship with tornadoes. A relationship he will soon be made aware of. Trapped for the past fourteen years in a time not his own, Ryder jumps at the chance to go back to the future to be reunited with the father and brother he left behind. However, when he arrives he discovers the future is not what it’s cracked up to be. People and things have changed, and not in a good way. Now he is stuck here with no way to return back to the time he now misses.

Torin Hamilton’s day wasn’t going well—and gets worse when she receives a mysterious nineteenth century jewelry box. Its contents leave her completely baffled and concerned for her friend’s welfare. What she saw couldn’t be real.

Torin’s concern for her friend deepens when she receives a strange phone call that has her rushing to Heartsbridge, Texas, looking for answers.

When she arrives, she meets up with Ryder, and together they go on a journey of loss, love and discovery, as secrets are revealed about a past he’d wanted to forget.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandra E Sinclair
• Release date: Mar 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386617341

Book preview

Chapter 1

The sensation of being held down slowly seeped from his body. He stood and faced the door as it opened, and a woman came through it. Same face, different person, wearing clothes of a fashion he vaguely remembered—blue jeans and a T-shirt. Good, he was back in Heartsbridge in 2017, and not much seemed to have changed since he'd been away. He'd expected more.

Excitement coursed through him—he was back.

Cissie said it was a different time but this room looked almost, but not quite as he’d remembered it.

The only difference was, when he’d seen this room for the first time, it was through the eyes of a frightened boy, shivering behind a couch until he'd fallen asleep. The memories came flooding back as if a faucet was cranked open in his mind, and it shook him. He took off his hat, ran a shaky hand through his hair, and fanned his face with it. He never suspected he’d feel the force of his past so strongly. Maybe coming back was a mistake.

The woman spoke and shook him out of his musing.

Hi, I'm Moira. I'm here to help with the transition into this century.

He stared blindly at the hand she offered him, then back to her face. I know who you are.

She smiled and said, Well, it seems you have me at a disadvantage. Your name is?

Ryder, Ryder Lucore. He took her hand.

So what would you like to know before you go outside? Everything here is very different from what you were used to.

Nothing, I've been here before.

You have? When was that? she asked, her eyes widening.

In 1989. I was born in a house not too far from here in 1977. He put his hat back on. I guess I'll be taking my leave.

But you can't go, where will you stay? She placed a hand on his shoulder, hindering his progress.

He gently removed it and smiled down at her. I have family in the area. I’m sure they’ll put me up.

Her hand returned to his arm, gripping it more forcefully. I have a vacant room above the diner if you need it.

No thank you. For now, I think I can make my own way. However, you can help me figure something out. He reached into this pocket, to break contact with her and pull out the device. Do you know what this is?

It's a cell phone.

Well, it sure don't look like any cell phone I remember. He tipped the phone this way and that in his hand. How does it work?

Moira took the device out of his hands, and tried to switch it on but nothing happened. It's dead. Where did you get it? she asked, handing it back to him.

He took the phone and shoved it into his pocket. It's Raven's. I brought it back with me. I didn’t think it was right to leave it behind. I had to get rid of all the stuff I’d brought with me from the future when I was sent back in time. So I guessed I needed to do the same with Raven's.

How is Raven?

She looked all right when I left. I didn’t really have much to do with her.

They stood there looking at each other. Ryder got the impression she wasn't very good at what she was doing with this time travel thing. It was as if she was searching for what to say to him next. Maybe she could use a list of questions and one for dos and don'ts, for when a traveler gets here, like the Moira in 1866 had. That woman had been prepared. All he could do for now was stare back at her, wishing she'd get out of his way.

If that’s all, I'd better get going.

No, wait. There are still things you have to know.

Such as? How much could have changed? This place still looks the same.

I'm sure a great deal has changed. I just don't know what, and how much of it. I was born a good few years after you left. As for this place, it looks the way it does because I recreated it from pictures and Google searches.

What's a Google? He furrowed his brow.

A search engine on the Internet.

The word Internet sounded vaguely familiar but he didn't know why or what it meant. He'd forgotten a lot about his past, except the things that mattered, like his family and his cruel, vicious stepmother. That witch had made his and his brother Hunter’s lives a misery. When Hunter couldn't take anymore, he enlisted in the military, leaving Ryder to figure things out on his own. His father had been useless.

Ryder sighed. Maybe it wasn't going to be so easy to adjust as he thought. He wasn't a kid anymore, and he could feel his heart rate rising. The hairs on the back of his neck were beginning to prick and his hands felt clammy. Moisture formed on his forehead. He wiped at it with his palm. Moira’s idea for him to stay here at the diner until he could figure things out more clearly was good.

However, the longer he stayed in this room with this woman, the more anxiety he could feel charging at him. It held too many memories and brought with it the fear he had as a child. Sounds of traffic seeped in through the open window, along with other noises, some he vaguely remembered. A lot was new, and none of it felt right. He'd been used to a quieter existence for so long, he was suffocating in the differences. He needed some fresh air.

Can we get out of this room? he asked, taking his hat off again and wiping his forehead.

Yes, of course. Come through to the diner, and I'll get you a coffee.

Ryder held the door open for her as she passed through it and followed behind, his eyes absorbing everything they landed on. So far he still couldn't see many differences. The kitchen still looked like a kitchen with large pots and pans hanging from hooks overhead, huge commercial stoves, and staff shouting through orders.

She hadn't said his clothes were out of date, and he needed to change anything, not like before. None of this was like before, except the sensation that nothing was the same anymore. It was a smell in the air, a force in the atmosphere, and a lingering pressure in his head as if his brain was being squeezed. He shouldn't have come back. He didn't belong anymore.

He looked over her head through to the diner. Time may have stood still in here but from the large window ahead of them, he could see a whole new world. Cars rushed by, some bigger, some smaller than he’d remembered them. But that wasn't it, it was the sheer number of cars. It was as if he looked out onto a river of automobiles surging through the street.

Men in suits, jeans, and T-shirts, a few sleeveless, some were even bare chested. Looking through the glass, one minute he felt overdressed and the next, underdressed, depending on who was passing by.

The array of women’s clothes carried with it a similar theme, which stuck out for him. The women of this time seemed to be wearing less clothing. Although, they may have done that back when he was younger, he couldn't remember, or hadn't noticed. But growing up in a place where this type of dress would be considered scandalous, his eyebrows rose and fell several times.

He hadn't known what to expect coming forward, but this wasn't it. He didn't know where to look.

Many of the scantily-dressed women had the same device strapped on their arms and plugged into their ears he'd removed from Raven. By the time they got to the counter, Ryder was rubbing at his eyes. He could see it but he couldn't believe it.

Chapter 2

I’m not doing that! She closed her eyes and mentally rolled them under her eyelids, as she clenched her teeth and spun in place to face her boss.

You’ll do as I say. This is my studio, my production crew, and my money funding your harebrained schemes. And you will wear whatever the hell I tell you to wear. Spittle shot from the man’s mouth as he glared at her.

She placed her hands on her hips and glared right back. May I remind you, the show is call Torin’s Tornadoes? Not the fat Albert Talbert’s show. What kind of parent would name a kid that anyway?

He ignored her cutting remark and said, If you don’t do as I say, you’re fired.

Torin laughed, a harsh, brittle sound. You can’t fire me. I quit. See if you can find some other schmuck, another loony toon as stunningly attractive as me, who is also a numbskull presenter. And, who is willing to chase down your stupid tornadoes, getting dangerously close without getting drawn in and sucked up into the eye of the storm. Then ending up in a place called Oz, telling everyone her name is Dorothy as she spins around looking for Toto, wondering why in hell she ain’t in Kansas anymore?

Miss Hamilton.

What? Torin snapped and spun on her heels to face the woman standing in the doorjamb with her head poking around the door.

There’s a gentleman here to see you, says he’s an attorney. He has something for you.

Well, didn’t you ask what it was? Torin asked, placing her hands on her hips again.

Yes, I did. But I think it’s something you should hear for yourself.

Torin rolled her eyes. Just tell me what he said.

He said he has a letter for you, dated the twelfth of February, 1880.

Dated when? Torin’s mouth fell open.

You heard her and so did I, 1880. I knew it. There’s always been something wrong with you, and now I know what it is. You’re an escapee from another time and dimension nestled at the foot of hell’s gate. A spoiled little debutante witch who wants everything her own way. It’s probably a letter from your decaying father.

"Shut up, Talbert, or I will leave. See how you fare then with your precious studio. You’d be shut down in a week, as your viewers begin to dwindle and you lose all that lovely advertising money." She laughed.

"You know as well as I do. People only watch, waiting in anticipation and suspense for the beautiful woman to be sucked up and swept away, camera and all. Then they can turn to one