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His face transformed as the red-haired woman approached them. The detective in him was gone, and his face was suddenly lit up with love, pride, and a hint of possessiveness. He stretched his arms out to her, and she came to him and laid her hand on his shoulder, then she took a place across the table from him. She glanced for a moment at Craig, and then her eyes returned to Amber.

“Hello,” she said.

Was Amber hallucinating, or did she have an American accent?

“H-hi,” Amber said.

Owen had mentioned there were more time travelers…

Amber and Amy kept staring at each other, neither daring to say a word. There were too many people around who could overhear.

Craig leaned closer with a mischievous glance. “United States of America. Discuss.”

Amber blinked. “Are you from…”

Amy exchanged a careful glance with Craig, and he nodded. “Yeah,” Amy said quietly. “North Carolina. You?”

Amber exhaled and looked heavenward. She was a time traveler, too! “Chicago.”

A slow smile spread on Amy’s lips. “Oh my gosh!”

She reached out across the table, and Amber grasped her hands.

“It’s so good to see you,” Amy said. “Not that I’m lonely here”—she winked at Craig—“but no one understands what it’s like to live in the past, you know, for people like you and me. But how did you? Why?”

Amber tensed and removed her hands. No matter how glad she was to see a woman from her time, she couldn’t tell a complete stranger that the government wanted her for murder.

“Long story,” Amber said. “And you’re married to Craig and have a baby on the way? You decided to stay?”

Amy chuckled. “It’s a long story, too. I went back at first, but I realized I couldn’t live without this man.”

“And you don’t regret it?”

“No. Best decision of my life.”

Amber looked around again, just to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

“I might want to stay, too.”

“Oh.” Amy smiled and raised her eyebrows. “For Owen?”

Owen’s jaw worked, and a hot flush hit Amber’s face. Craig guffawed, and many heads turned in his direction.

“No,” Amber said. “Not for Owen. For me. It’s better for me here.”

Amy frowned, puzzled. “What do you mean, for you? Who in their right mind would voluntarily stay in the Middle Ages when there’s medicine and toilets and showers and microwaves in the twenty-first century?”

Amber clenched her teeth. “Then I guess I’m not in my right mind.”

Amy shook her head and smiled apologetically. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. But what will you do here?”

“I don’t know yet. But I can’t go back.”

Amy frowned, grimaced, and sucked in a breath.

Craig straightened up. “What is it?”

Amy shook her head. “Nothing. Just some Braxton-Hicks contractions… I think.”