1645 England was not what Ben Lightson had in mind when he wished to be anywhere but Dudleyville, Arizona at Christmas.
But when a postcard is making the travel arrangements, it's impossible to argue the particulars.
Lady Vania is in hiding from the Mad Cavalier who wants her for his bride. She must flee to save herself, Ben must find his way home. One day with each other is not enough, but will have to last…until another lifetime.
Ben held his breath, utterly consumed by the miniature scene unfolding before him. The door opened further and the shadow that had cast gray upon the light bloomed into a shape. A defined shape. The light, which he could now make out as a lantern, rose, illuminating a face, its details blurred into a misty foreground.
He swiveled so the floor lamp shone directly onto the card. His jaw dropped when the figure drew back, as though trying to hide from his light. The door began to close.
"No, wait!" he called. "Who…what are you?"
Movement halted. The face rematerialized. Liquid blue eyes peered around the edge of the door.
"Shh," a tiny voice responded. "They will hear you, sir. Please, do not give us away."
'They'? 'We'? Who was this…this voice talking about? A distinctly female voice. One laced with fear. His rescue instinct barreled through him.
"Give you away? Where…?"
Christ, he was conversing with a postcard.