TWICE A HERO By Susan Krinard

He rounded on her. “Scared?” He grabbed her hand and charged in the direction the Maya wanted them to go.

There was an opening in the foliage—a machete-cut path Mac recognized. It was the one the guide had made for her, unaltered from the day he’d led her to the temple. She hadn’t lost any time at all.

But she’d gained more than she’d ever dreamed.

“This is it,” she said, squeezing his hand. “On the other side of this path is Tikal. The Tikal of my time. And then…” She turned for one last glance at the ruins that had changed her life, and the people who, in some strange way, had made it possible.

They were gone—vanished into the jungle or the temple without so much as a rustle of leaves or any sign that they had been there.

“Well, that takes care of that,” she said ruefully. “It’s a good thing we won’t need a guide to get back.”

“You’d better let me go first,” Liam said.

“You’d better get used to me doing some of the leading, Liam O’Shea,” she retorted. “But maybe we can start by going together.”

He gave her a long look, and grinned. “I like the sound of that, darlin’.”

She let out a long breath and flexed her hand, testing the burn marks patterned into her palm. They didn’t hurt, almost as if she’d had them for years. “I may not have the pendant anymore, but I’m not likely to forget this adventure soon.”

“You have a better souvenir than that.” He took her in his arms, lifting her off her feet and matching action to words. The kiss was long, heated, and designed to prove that Liam wasn’t about to change in fundamentals, no matter how far he’d come in time.

“We’re not done adventuring yet, darlin’. But when we settle down, we’re going to make up for all the O’Sheas that weren’t born in the last century.”

Her ears burned as she caught his meaning. “Hey, I’m only one woman, you know.”

“Ah, but what a woman.” Suddenly he grew serious, setting her down with his hands firm on her shoulders. “You’re going to marry me, Mac, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Me say no to Liam O’Shea?”

“I won’t let you forget you said that, darlin’.”

Norton added his two cents with a ringing bark. Mac leaned back in Liam’s arms to pat the wolfhound’s shaggy head. “Then I guess the sooner we’re back in civilization, the better. And anyway”—she slapped at her arm—”the mosquitoes are getting a little too friendly.”

“They recognize one of their own—a troublesome, annoying, persistent little—”

She covered his mouth. “Watch it, Liam. Remember, I know your middle name.”

“And I know yours.” He cupped her cheeks in his big hands, devastating tenderness in his eyes. “My thorny Rose.”

They gazed at each other like lovestruck teenagers until Norton nudged his muzzle under Mac’s hand. She laughed. “We may have left Victorian times behind, but we still have a chaperon.”

“And we still have the greatest adventure before us,” he said. “Shall we go find it?”

“Just a minute.” She shrugged out of her backpack and pulled out the photograph she had carried so long and so far. She walked back to the temple and propped it against the ancient wall, close to the dark entrance.

Liam came up behind her. “You’re leaving it here?”

“Yes. It feels… right, somehow. I don’t need it anymore. Not when I have the real thing.” She took his outstretched hand.

Thank you, Homer, for sending me out to break the family curse. Even if it never existed.

You forced me to find my own life, and I’m grateful. I’ll try to live up to the Sinclair tradition.

And I’ll never be alone again.

The slap of skin on skin startled her from her wordless prayer. Liam frowned at the remains of the mosquito in his free hand.

“I think your modern mosquitoes have taken a liking to me,” he said. “I trust there’s more to your fantastic world than this.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, kissing his knuckles. “And I can’t wait to show you.”

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