Time and Again

endured a second time. Sunny could only hope he would understand what she was doing. She hoped she understood it.
    She parked in back of the cabin and sat for a little while, studying the way the glaze of ice on the tree limbs glittered in the morning sun. Listening to the sound, the sound of almost perfect silence. Tasting the hint of coming snow in the air.
    Slowly, fighting back the grief, she walked to the cabin and entered the kitchen quietly.
    Libby had left a light in the window. The sight of the old kerosene lamp burning dully in the morning light brought the hateful tears to her eyes again. She swallowed them, then sat at the table to run her fingers over the wood as Jacob had only weeks before.
    "You're up early."
    Sunny lifted her eyes and met her sister's. "Hi." Her lips curved. "Mom."
    Instinctively Libby laid a hand on her stomach. "Jacob told you. I wanted to."
    "Great news is great news whatever the source." She rose to gather her sister close. There was joy here, and she clung to it. "No morning sickness?"
    "No. I've never felt better."
    "Cal better be spoiling you."
    "Rotten." Libby drew back to brush at Sunny's fringe of bangs. Her sister's eyes were shadowed and sad. "How are you?"
    "I'm okay." Because her legs felt unsteady again, she turned back to sit at the table. "I'm sorry I ran out the way I did."
    "That doesn't matter." Libby was dressed in a baggy sweater and cords, her favored outfit for the mountains. Studying her, Sunny thought her sister had never been more beautiful. She wondered if she would ever carry a child, feel that love growing inside her.
    "I flattened him."
    "Good," Libby said, with a nod of approval. Movements automatic, she filled the teakettle with water, then set it on the burner. "Want some breakfast?"
    "Later, maybe."
    "Sunny, I'm so sorry."
    "Don't be." Sunny reached behind her to close a hand over the one Libby had laid on her shoulder.
    "Really, it's all right."
    "You really love him."
    "Yes, I love him."
    Wishing she could find a way to grant her sister the happiness she felt herself, Libby rested a cheek on Sunny's hair. "Cal says J.T.'s planning to do some more work on the equations for the time travel. To hone it down, to make it safer, and more practical, if that word can apply."
    "Yes, he told me."
    "He's brilliant, Sunny. Really brilliant. It's not just Cal's bragging. I read the rest of his file. And the fact that he was able to make this trip after only two years of work is proof of it. Once he finishes his testing, he'll come back."
    "I hope he can." She closed her eyes. "I really hope he can." Then, with a laugh, she buried her face in her hands. "Listen to us. We're here talking about all of this as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I must still be in shock."
    "After more than a year, I still wake up some mornings wondering if I imagined it all."
    "But you have Cal," Sunny murmured, letting her hands fall into her lap. "He's right there to prove it's real."
    "Sunny, if I-" She broke off when Cal walked into the room. She lifted her shoulders, let them fall. "Is there anything I can do?"
    "No. I'm handling it, I promise you that."
    "I'm going to get some fresh air," Libby announced. "Cal, take care of the tea, will you?"
    A look passed between them. "Sure."
    Sunny knew them both well enough to understand that they'd planned this little bit of business so that Cal could speak to her alone.
    "What do you want?" he asked when Libby had shut the door behind her. "Froot Loops or burnt toast?"
    "J.T. fixed the toaster."
    "Oh yeah?" He gave it a casual glance. "He's always liked to fiddle with things." The kettle began to boil, giving him another moment to think through what he wanted to say. "Sunny- I think we'll get snow before nightfall."
    "Cal, why don't you relax? As tempting as it was, I didn't murder him."
    "I wasn't worried about that." He poured hot water into two cups. "Not too much, anyway. It's more a matter of wanting to explain."
    "That your brother's a jerk? I know that."
    "He's also sensitive."
    She could still be amused. That was a relief. "Are we talking about the same man? Hornblower, Jacob?
    Astrophysicist? The one with the bull head and the nasty temper?"
    An apt description, he thought. "Yeah. I don't mean like he cries at vid-movies," he remembered. "Or that he takes it to heart when you call him names. He's sensitive where other people are concerned.
    Family." Not certain he was handling the situation correctly, he brought