"He doesn't need a keeper. He certainly doesn't need me to babysit him." The gla.s.s in her hands was shaking, and she had to set it down. "I've done quite enough for him, don't you think?"

Perry lifted his gla.s.s to her in ironic salute. "You would have made an admirable colleague in my old profession, Rose. I confess I don't understand you."

"You don't have to. But if you feel I've done anything for you and Caroline, there's something I'd ask in return. It isn't much." She grasped the leather thong around her neck and pulled the chip of Maya stone from under her jacket and T-shirt. "You have a pendant like this one."

A flicker of surprise crossed his face. "That's Liam's. One of those wea""

"One of the two pendants you and Liam made four years ago," she said. "I want yours as well, Perry."

"May I ask why?"

She cupped the cool stone in her hand. "Call it a souvenir. You do have it, don't you?"

"Yes. In my rooms."

"Will you give it to me?"

He inspected her as if he could wring the full story out of her by sheer concentration. "Very well, Rose."

Thank G.o.d. "Then I have one more thing to ask. I need your help to arrange transportation back to the jungle as soon as possible."

"Back to the jungle? Surelya""

"I know what I'm doing, Perry." She stood up, testing her legs. They were prepared to hold her up now that the worst was past. "Liam has told me he plans to be out of town as soon as he's recovered enough to travel. I want to be gone by the time he gets back, whatever it takes." Her throat was aching, and she went on more briskly, "I'll need to borrow a little money. Just what I need to get back to Guatemala."

Perry steepled his ringers under his chin. "I suppose I can't convince you not to go ahead with this madness."

"No."

"Then I'll do what I can to help, of course."

"Thank you." She started for the door and paused. "I am glad to have known you, Perry. And Caroline."

"It isn't farewell just yet," he said.

But it would be very soon. In a matter of days she'd be beyond anyone's reach. Safe. With nothing more challenging before her than enduring a two-week sea voyage, tramping a couple hundred miles through the jungles, and trying to make a Maya time tunnel take her back to 1997.

Simple.

"I'll wait to hear from you," she said.

She walked down the echoing hall to the great front doors, Norton loyally by her side. At the threshold she knelt before the wolfhound, rubbing his ears between her fingers.

"Well, fella, this is it. I probably won't be seeing you again."

The dog thumped his tail against the polished floor. Mac fought to keep the tears in check just a little longer.

"I can tell you what I'm not going to miss about this time," she joked. "Long heavy dresses and corsets and inst.i.tutionalized male chauvinism, to name a few. I can't wait to get back to c.o.ke and feminism and nice, safe air travel anda Oh, h.e.l.l." She flung her arms around the ma.s.sive, s.h.a.ggy neck. "I'm going to miss you, Norton."

And your master most of all, her heart whispered. She gave the dog a final caress and left him looking after her as she closed the door between them.

His bark reached her through the door. It became a howl as she strode away from the house, blindly following the route she knew would take her back to the Palace. Afternoon fog was beginning to roll in off the ocean, wreathing her in a chill that matched the lump of ice under her ribs.

Soona"she had to keep believing ita"life would be back to normal. No more crazy excursions for MacKenzie R. Sinclair. There was a small apartment, a quiet life, and a job waiting for her back home.

And memoriesa"more than enough to last her a lifetime.

Chapter Twenty-Four.

Ye G.o.ds! annihilate but s.p.a.ce and time, And make two lovers happy.

a"ALEXANDER POPE THE DAILY DOWNPOUR was nearly over. It was smack in the middle of the rainy season, but Mac was almost grateful for the hard going. It had kept her from thinking.

She leaned on her improvised walking stick and caught her breath. The mules stamped and shifted in the mud behind her, jingling their harnesses. Fernando soothed them with a quiet endearment and waited for Mac to signal them forward again.

Thank G.o.d for Fernando. She glanced back at the Maya muleteer. Somehow she hadn't been surprised to see him show up at the door of her grungy hotel room in Champerico. It hadn't been mere luck that she'd been able to hire the one person in Guatemala she knew to guide her back to the ruins: Fernando had been waiting for her.

Waiting for the pendants, the keys, he had asked her to return to the jungle. The keys he'd said would open the way back to the future. She'd shown the pendants to him, and he'd nodded and smiled and said nothing more, as if he'd always had utter faith in her ability to obtain them.

He hadn't asked about Liam. Mac had the feeling he knew Liam wasn't going to turn up. Fernando had simply minded his own business and set about his job of getting Mac to the ruins in one piece.

The Maya had done his job well. Their tiny expeditiona"Fernando, another muleteer, herself, and three mulesa"were nearly to the ruins. They'd pa.s.sed through Tikal less than an hour before. Mac knew where they were; she didn't think she'd forget as long as she lived. It had all started here.

And here it would end.

The trail Liam had cut through the jungle had already become overgrown, almost indistinguishable from the rest of the forest. Mac batted at the slight indentation with her walking stick. It was still the path of least resistance, and she knew exactly where it led.

She hitched up her loose cotton pants and adjusted her headband. No point in putting it off; in an hour she'd know. In an hour she'd either be back to her own time ora Forget that. There wasn't any "or." There was only forging on into the unknown. She straightened, lifted her chin, and waved Fernando ahead.

The ancient, vine-covered buildings waited for her, tranquil and unchanged, as if they had known she would return. There were a few more leaves covering the crumbling walls, a little more undergrowth to wade through. But she was there.

She went to the mules and began to untie the bundle that contained her backpack, a packet of food, and her faithful flashlight. She'd come to the past with so little; she was taking almost as little back. She had her old worn jeans and T-shirt packed into a roll hung to the backpack. She had the odds and ends she'd once used to try to convince Liam of her origins.

All but the watch. She'd never gotten it back, and now it was too late. h.e.l.l, she could always buy another. And Liam couldn't change history with a single waterproof watch. She'd had enough thinking about time to last her an eternity.

An eternity without Liam O'Shea.

"Bueno, seorita."

She turned to Fernando, who regarded her with solemn attention. "Si. This is it," she said. She tugged the two pendants from under her loose shirt. Fernando's gaze rested on them a moment and returned to her face.

"Vuelve a su casa."

"Si, Fernando. I am going home." The pieces clicked as they touched each other, still nothing but cold stone under her hand. "If I understood you correctly, I need these to go there. I know you wanted them backa""

He shook his head. "No las necesito, seorita. I ask one thing. When you are on the other side, you give las llaves back to the people."

The people. His people, she thought. Like the guide who had led her to the ruins in the first place.

Crazy thought. But if she couldn't find someone to return them to, she'd leave them in the temple. G.o.d knew she didn't want to mess with them ever again. There were too many questions, and her heart was too heavy to contain even a single answer.

"I will," she said gravely. She pulled a leather pouch from her pocket and put it into his hand. "Gracias por su ayuda. I wish I could give you more."

He didn't even weigh the contents or check the number of coins but simply held the bag and stared at her with something like sadness. Mac offered her hand and found his return grip firm and warm.

She almost mentioned Liam, almost asked Fernando to tell him, if he ever came back to the junglea No. It was over.

"Well," she said, giving Fernando's hand a final shake. "Adis, then."

Abruptly he caught her hand again and put the pouch in her upturned palm. "Vaya con Dios."

He gestured to his fellow muleteer, caught the bridle of the lead mule, and never looked back as he vanished through the green wall of undergrowth.

Only then did Mac notice he'd left his machete beside her backpack. She picked it up and called after him, but if he heard he wasn't coming back. She thrust the blade into the soft earth at her feet. Maybe he thought she'd need it to protect herself from roving explorers.

Like Liam O'Shea.

To h.e.l.l with it. No more procrastination. She tossed the pouch of coins into her backpack and hitched the pack over her shoulders. The flashlight was solid and real in her hand. Once she was home she'd learn to deal with reality again. No more mysteries. No more curses. No more crazy and debilitating emotions.

The tunnel was very dark, just as it had been before. She knew she should be afraid. She was blundering into another great unknown; anyone in her right mind would be scared stiff. But she'd left her right mind, as well as her heart, somewhere back in San Francisco. That was a definite advantage; she was numb now, numb and almost indifferent as she made her way to the end of the stone-lined hall.

The wall, too, was as it had been before, carved with a hundred inscrutable designs. Mac held up the flashlight to study it one final time, knowing it had nothing else to reveal. Nothing she wouldn't learn by taking the next and final step.

So this is it. Dr Pepper, here I come. She sucked in a lungful of air and closed her eyes. "Good-bye, Liam. You gave me the adventure of my life, and I wouldn't change that for the world. Be well, and be happy." She laughed through an unantic.i.p.ated onslaught of tears. "Just try not to alter history too much and undo all my work, okay?"

She propped the flashlight against the wall. The stone chips were still cool as she looped them from her neck. They had to work, cold or not; there was no going back.

She clutched one in each hand, squared her shoulders, and walked right into a firm, warm, masculine shape. Powerful hands caught her arms.

"You've led me on a merry chase, MacKenzie Rose Sinclair," Liam growled, "but I can safely make that promise."

He wasn't too late. By the saints, he wasn't too late.

He saw her now, in the dim lantern-light, just as he'd seen her that first time: wide-eyed, boyishly slim, her body taut with readiness to fight or run.

She trembled in his embrace like a wild thing expecting imminent death. Which might not be too far off the mark.

"So you thought it would be so easy to escape me, Mac?" he asked, giving her a little shake. "Make Liam O'Shea look like a fool and be on your merry way. Only it didn't quite work, did it?"

"How did you get here?" she stammered.

"The usual way. I chartered one of my own ships to bring me down. Strangely enough, I couldn't find Fernando in Champerico. Heard he'd gone off with a gringa. But when I got here, who did I find leaving the ruins?" He grinned. "Remarkable coincidence, eh, Mac?"

She pulled away with a jerk. "Perry," she said. "Perry told you."

"Yes, he told me."

"Thena""

"I'm not holding this conversation in a b.l.o.o.d.y tunnel. Come on." He grabbed her arm again and this time she went without resistance, stumbling and awkward, into the sunshine of the jungle afternoon. She blinked, disoriented, fists clenched at her sides.

"If I let you go, swear you won't run," he said.

Her head jerked up. "I'm not running from you, Liam O'Shea."

He dropped her arm and planted his hands on his hips, gazing his fill of her. She was beautiful in her trousers and shirt and ragged hair. Beautiful the way the jungle was beautiful, the way no tame, ordinary woman could ever be.

"You already ran," he said with a lazy drawl. "Pretty d.a.m.ned far. And with no intention of coming back, according to Perry. Ha." He scowled. "I told Perry to keep watch over you while I was in Napa with Chen. And he let you go."

"You told hima""

"Oh, he claimed to have misunderstood me, d.a.m.n his English hide."

She swallowed, though she tried to hide that little betrayal of vulnerability. "Why did you follow me?"

He leaned against the nearest stone wall and crossed his feet. "You left something behind, Mac. You were in such an all-fired hurry to escape, you didn't give me a chance to return it."

He dipped into the pocket of his pants and pulled out her watch. The strange, slick black surface felt alien in his hand, but when he pa.s.sed it to her he touched something far warmer. Her fingers trembled as she s.n.a.t.c.hed them away.

"Thank you," she said. "But it wasn't necessary to come all the way herea""

"I don't steal from friends."

Her eyes revealed more than her stiff expression; they focused on his face and warmed to the color of rich coffee. "It wasn't necessary," she repeated. "I'm sorry you went to all that trouble."

Her voice held a tremor, infusing everything she said with painful uncertainty. He couldn't tell if she were asking him an unspoken question, or expressing regret because she didn't want him here at all.

In a few minutes he would know, one way or the other.

"You still have something of mine, Mac," he said.