Emma led the sailor into the one room cabin. Two bunk beds stood against the left wall, a fireplace was at the rear, and to the right was a small kitchen. Knotty pine had been used to build the structure, and it hadn’t been painted. Stones jutted out from the fireplace, adding to the rustic feeling. A couch sat in the center of the room, and a TV with an antennae stood in front of the seating arrangement.

“It’s not fancy, but it’s comfortable. I think it’s probably some kind of hunting cabin or maybe a place to use when you want to get away from the city.” She put her hands on her hips and surveyed their surroundings. “At least we have a fridge. And there’s food in it.”

“What’s a fridge?”

His deep voice rumbled through her, and she tried to ignore what it did to her by saying, “Come see.” With a racing pulse she led him to the appliance. “It keeps things cool.” She opened the door. “Look.”

With a puzzled but curious expression, he leaned down, inspecting the space and the contents. “Ketchup,” he murmured. He reached out and touched the bottle then pulled his hand back. “It’s cold.” He looked at her.

She smiled and nodded.

When he straightened, he asked, “What kind of magic is this?”

She held back a chuckle, not wanting to embarrass him. “It’s called electricity. It’s an invention, not magic.”

He shrugged. “Where I come from, there are people who can make things happen with spells and potions.”

Alarmed, she took a step back. “You mean, you actually believe in magic?”

As he continued to study the inside of the fridge, he explained, “I don’t have to believe in it. It just is.” He shut the door, then opened it again. “You can see this light that comes on without fire, yes?”

She nodded.

“And you can feel how this electricity makes everything inside cold?”

Again, she nodded.

“Then it’s the same.” He withdrew a jar of pickles and ran his thumb over the label. “Where I come from magic just exists. I don’t have to believe in it for it to work.”

The nonchalance with which he spoke struck her and put her on her guard, because…she believed him. Oh, my God. Magic was real?

He put the pickles back then shut the door, the silence settling around them. He looked down at her. “Have I upset you? You look afraid.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t think of anything to say. She didn’t know how she felt. “I…um…I just…”

His brow furrowed. “You know the portal I came through?” He put his hands in his pockets. “That’s made by magic. Someone used a bean or conjured a spell, or…something.” He shook his head and went around her, going to stand before one of the windows framing the fireplace. “I don’t know why it was in the middle of the ocean, but I think it was meant for me.”

What kind of conversation was she having? Was this even real? How could he talk of such things like they existed? Her heart pounded inside her chest at the weirdness, the possibilities, the…reality. How could what he said be true? “M-Meant for you?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “The wind…felt like a hand. It picked me up and threw me.”

“Why?”

He turned to face her, his expression grave. “I don’t know. To get me away from my brother? To save me from servitude?” He shrugged.

Her head spun with what he was saying. How could any of this be true? And this was much bigger than…well, than using some kind of time machine and flicking a switch. Had she really thought she would know how to do even that?
Was she stuck in a dream? Wake up, Emma. Wake. Up.

“I’ve scared you.”

His disappointed and disgusted tone caused her to jerk her gaze to his. “No, no,” she assured him. “I’m just…I mean…” She rubbed her forehead. “I should’ve known there was more to it. A great big swirling vortex split the sky and a person fell through. I saw that with my own eyes. I should’ve realized right off that wasn’t normal.” She lowered her arm, upset with her stupidity. “I mean, I did know, but I had it in my mind that I could help you. How in the world can I do that?”

She moved to sit down, dejected and feeling like a huge dummy. And this poor guy. He was probably never going home. Time travel wasn’t real. At least, it wasn’t real here.

She heard his boots scrape along the wood floor, and he sat down on the opposite end of the couch. Silence reigned as she allowed her thoughts to swirl. How could she help him? What could she do for him? She could barely take care of herself.

“I feel fortunate that you’ve offered to assist me,” he murmured.

His soft tone caressed her, and she looked at him. The fond light in his eyes made her heart swell and pound harder. God.

He was cute. And confident. He didn’t seem scared at all. And he had a job. He wasn’t a thief and could probably take good care of himself. She bet he knew how to fight, too. A glance to his hands as they rested on his thighs made her throat dry up.

They were wide. Capable. Wow.

She took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the problem. “Well, that’s good, but I doubt I’m going to be able to offer any solutions.” His words and explanations came barreling back. “Magic is real?”

“Yes.”

“Like, people can wave a wand and things happen?” She tried to picture what he’d described and Harry Potter came to mind. Whoa. Harry Potter.

“They don’t really need wands. People who have magic can just use their hands, and they toss their fingers. Like this.”

She watched him gesture back and forth as her own memories played in her mind. Ingrid. Her foster mother who had wanted to adopt her…

Ingrid had said…Oh, God.

“Wands aren’t needed all the time, though some people have them. Like the fairies.”

“F-Fairies?”

He nodded. “Fairy godmothers fly around and take care of children when others can’t. They have wands, and use light magic.”

Fairy Godmothers? Like in Cinderella? She cupped her face, unable to believe what he’d just said. “You can’t be serious.”

“You don’t have them here either?” He clenched his hands into fists. “You must think I’m a raving lunatic.”

She lowered her arms and shook her head. “No, I b-believe you. I think. Wow.” She shot to her feet and started pacing. “Fairy Godmothers,” she rasped.

He watched her trek for a few moments. “We don’t have to talk about this anymore. I don’t want to alarm you, and even if you can’t help me, I promise my brother is probably already working on it. Including my captain.” He scowled. “He wouldn’t want to lose one of his servants.”

“Servants?” Why had he spoken with such disdain?

A second of time passed, then he forced a smile. “It’s nothing.” He gestured toward the television. “What’s that thing?”

The abrupt change in conversation jarred her for a moment, but then she sat and picked up the remote. “Uh, it’s a TV.” She clicked it on.

The shock on his face made her relax a bit. A baseball game shone on the screen, the batter hitting a single and running to first. Wonder came over his expression and he leaned forward, already engrossed. His child-like interest made her heart skip a beat, and she wanted to show him so much more. He might have magic in his land, but he sure didn’t have cars or planes or other futuristic things.

But showing him the wonders of her time would only distract them from what they should be doing. Getting him home.

He believed she didn’t know magic and hadn’t had any contact with it. He was wrong.

“What is this?” he said softly.

As she explained the game, answering his questions, she recalled her last moments with Ingrid. Ingrid had insisted Emma had magic inside her. She’d even pushed Emma into oncoming traffic and commanded her to stop its progress with her magic.

But Emma had yanked away, called the woman insane. And then she’d run.

And now…she had proof magic might be real. And if it was real, then maybe Ingrid had been right. Maybe Emma had magic.

And if she did, then…was she from the same era as Killian?

Killian’s pulse pounded at the beautiful vision before him. Emma Swan. He swallowed and flexed his fingers as wonder and awe barreled through him.

He should be worried as hell about getting home, but he knew why he’d landed next to this lake, in this idyllic and peaceful place.

When he’d fallen through that portal, all the grief he’d felt over the years had gathered inside him, and he’d gone to the one dream that had always given him a measure of hope. Finding his true love. A faceless person, but still real. At least in his mind.

And apparently she was real and…his true love. He hoped.

He grimaced inwardly. Hell…traitorous, torturous hope whipped inside him, making it hard to concentrate on what was most important—getting home. He took a deep breath and forced himself to mentally go forward calmly and slowly.

“So…” She fidgeted with the ends of her shirt and bounced on her toes for a moment. “What was that thing?”

“What thing?”

“The thing you feel through. Some kind of machine?”

He furrowed his brow. “No. That was a portal.”

“A portal?” A look of confusion crossed over her face. “You mean like to another dimension?”

Dimension? He scratched his temple. “Um, no. To another realm, or…” he cleared his throat, “well, it takes you to wherever you’re thinking of.” In his case, it had taken him to whoever he was thinking of. Better not tell her that, though. Especially since she hasn’t come any closer.

She pushed her hands into her pockets. “You thought of Pelican Lake?”

“Uh…” Hell, what did he say? “Well, not really.” He let out a puff of air, not wanting to lie to her, but he couldn’t tell her he’d thought of his possible true love. If she’d told the truth earlier and really wasn’t afraid of him, revealing why he’d landed where he’d landed would certainly frighten her. “Just, um, well, I thought of a place that would make me happy.”

She nodded slowly, as if trying to understand. “Did you mean to go through a portal?”

“No. We were sailing, heading to Arendale to pick up a shipment, and we came upon the portal swirling in the middle of the ocean. The wind caught me, knocked me off the ship and pushed me through.”

Shock crossed her face. “Oh, my gosh. You mean, you’re here by mistake?”

He hooked his thumbs around his belt. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Why aren’t you freaking out? I would be.” She gazed at him with surprise and disbelief.

He shrugged, not ready to admit what he thought her role might be. Instead, he said, “No reason to get upset. Just take it one step at a time.” He glanced around him. “This is Pelican Lake?”

With hesitant steps she came toward him, still looking at him like she tried to puzzle out his demeanor.
He held his breath, not wanting to alarm her. His heart kicked hard against his ribs, like the time he was bucked off the horse on their farm. Before his mother had died. A pang of grief hit him in the stomach, and he let out a slow exhale.

When she drew up beside him, leaving three feet of space between them, he turned and faced the water with her. They were silent, and he allowed the beauty of the scene to move through him.

He could feel her. Her warmth. Her kindness. Her innocence. While she might be on her own, and perhaps knew abandonment as he did, he sensed her hope for good things. For happiness. He closed his eyes and basked in her presence as much as the nature surrounding him.

“When I saw this place,” she said softly, “I felt happy.”

He opened his eyes.

“That’s not normal for me.”

He held himself rigid, working to keep from reaching out to her. “Me, either.” His hoarse revelation caused her to turn to him. He could feel her gaze on him, and he locked eyes with her. And fell. Hard. Harder than when he’d first seen her.

His throat went dry, and he wanted nothing more than to stroke her cheek, pull her closer, cover her mouth with his. If he did, he knew he would be as close to home as ever. He gritted his teeth.

Color flooded her cheeks and she lowered her lashes.

He had to be careful. He didn’t want to scare her. But…

“Do you need to get home fast?” she rasped. She peeked up at him.

No. Yes. Bloody hell. He focused back on the water. “I have a brother, and he’s probably worried about me. Probably already searching for a way to open another portal.”

“Then we have to get you back to him.”

At her use of the word “we”, he smiled. “You’re really going to help me? A sailor you barely know?” He glanced at her from the corners of his eyes.

She blushed again and ducked her head. “Well, I can’t leave someone from the past trying to learn how to get around in the future, now can I?”

She sure didn’t have to muddle her way through the mess he was in, but he was relieved she wanted to. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be right.” She lifted her chin in a show of adorable stubbornness. “Why don’t I show you the cabin, and then you can tell me all about portals and what makes them.”

When she turned on a heel, he took a deep breath then followed her. He had no idea what was ahead of him, but he hoped like hell it involved a friendship with her. Maybe she would like him. Maybe he could…

Bloody hell…what was he hoping for? He shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. He had to focus on getting home. Because even if she did end up liking him, he had his brother to think of. He had to get back to Liam.

Emma Swan took a deep breath and gazed out at the shining lake. She’d never seen a more beautiful sight. The view touched something deep inside her, and she felt a measure of peace. After walking out on her last foster family and leaving a back-stabbing friend at the bus depot, she’d wandered for a couple weeks. Then yesterday, she’d found Pelican Lake.

It had a vacant one-room cabin, with three cots and a kitchen. The dwelling also had electricity, but she hadn’t used it, in case it would be detected. She didn’t want the owner catching on that someone was squatting in their home. The serenity this place gave her couldn’t be duplicated, and she wanted to stay as long as possible.
With a sigh of contentment, she sat on a log and watched the birds fly overhead. No one else was about right now. Yesterday sailboats had skimmed along the water’s surface, but now, she felt as if she were the only person in the world.

Which was actually normal for her, but this time the sense brought contentment and didn’t flood her with loneliness. Usually her heart ached for family, for connection and love. But today…something was different. It really couldn’t be the scene before her, but she had no other way to explain her ease at the moment.

She hoped she could stay and wouldn’t be run off by whoever owned the cabin. Worse, they might call the authorities. At sixteen, they would want to put her back into the foster system, and she couldn’t handle another group home. People continued to let her down, but what else could she expect? Her parents had abandoned her right after she was born. If they hadn’t wanted her, why would anyone else?

She took in a deep breath then let it out slowly. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t let it matter. If she was careful, she could make a life for herself without needing anyone. She might not be an adult yet, but she would manage here.
After drawing in another cleansing breath, she smiled softly. I can do this.

A flash split the sky, making her give a yelp and jump to her feet. She stared upward as a swirling, gaping hole materialized over the sandy bank. Fear shot through her and she took a step back, stumbling over the log and landing on her rear.

She winced as rocks scraped the heels of her hands, but she didn’t take her eyes from the spinning vortex. When a figure fell through, she gasped and her heart flew into her throat.

The form met the ground with a sickening thud, and she froze. A great whoosh sounded and the portal closed, leaving the person behind.

Breathing hard, she watched as the—hopefully—human being shifted. It groaned.

She swallowed and pushed herself to sit up straighter. She had to go. She should be running for safety right now, but she couldn’t make her legs work. Her heart pounded hard, beating with fright and disbelief. What had happened? What had she just seen? Had she passed out? Was she dreaming? She squeezed her eyes shut. Wake up, Emma. Wake up.

But no. When she looked back at the figure, the lump of arms and legs were still there.

Another groan, and then it pushed to all fours.

It was a man. Black hair. Boots. A blue vest over a white shirt. He looked like he was from another world, another time.

With her breath in her throat, she stood, watching him study his surroundings. The lake. The trees. And then…

When he saw her, he froze.

Emma didn’t dare move, either. She couldn’t. He was looking at her, and for some reason, even from twenty yards away, she felt his warmth. An expression of awe and disbelief came over his features as he studied her.

Was she odd to him? Where had he come from? He’d fallen out of the sky through something that could only be described as a lightning, swirling mass of wind and thunder. Was he from Earth?

Carefully, she pushed to standing.

He stayed where he was, watching her, looking her over.

She felt touched. As if his hands had come up and brushed away the hair from her face with gentle fingers. Oh. Wow. Her heart skipped a beat.

As they regarded each other, she got the sense she had nothing to fear from whoever or whatever he was. She glanced at the sky. Nothing else was coming through. Was he alone? Did he need help? She took a step forward, taking care not to trip on the log.

He drew in a breath, but he still didn’t move.

Was he afraid of her? Sympathy clutched her breast, and she went toward him for a few more paces. “Hello,” she said softly.

He swallowed and nodded.

From this distance, she could see the clear blue of his eyes. They seemed to gaze right into her soul. Wow. Who was he?

“Where am I?’ he croaked. “What realm is this?”

Realm? The word made her stop short, and she straightened her spine. Was he from the past? Was she in the middle of something similar to Back to the Future? Oh, my God!

She licked her lips. “You’re in Minnesota.”

Confusion passed over his face. “I’ve never heard of it.”

Probably not. “That might be because…” She checked the sky once more before looking back at him. “You’re from the past.”

He lifted his brow. “The past? What do you mean?”

Oh, boy. She could barely fathom what this day had led her to. However, what was she supposed to do with him? How could she help him? She pushed her hair behind her ears as she tried to consider solutions, but nothing came to mind. She had no idea how to send someone back to the past. But maybe he would have an inkling. First though, he needed to believe she would help him.

She forced a smile and skipped over his question since she didn’t know how to answer it right now. “I’m Emma. Emma Swan.”

He cocked his head to the side and studied her. “You’re not afraid of me?”

She bit her lip then said, “No.”

His shoulders relaxed and he quirked a grin.

“Are you afraid of me?” She splayed a hand over her chest.

He didn’t lose his smile, and a look she could only describe as fondness entered his gaze. “Not at all.”

Puzzled, she wondered why he wasn’t. He was in a strange land, talking to a person he didn’t know. Wouldn’t he be a little concerned for himself? She hooked her thumbs in her pockets. “What’s your name?”

“Killian Jones.”

It was perfect. That should be his name. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“Where are you from?”

“Everywhere. I don’t have a home.”

His words gripped her, and in that simple and quick reply, she understood him. “I don’t have one either.”

Concern passed through his eyes. “Why not? You should. Who has been cruel to you?”

Taken aback by the firmness of his tone, she didn’t know what to say at first. And when his hands curled into fists, and he seemed angry on her behalf, she wondered if he was some kind of protector. “Are you a soldier? Like a knight?”

He shook his head. “I’m a deckhand. A sailor. But I can fight. Who is threatening you?”

Disbelief flooded her. Would he really defend her, be her champion if she asked it of him? Why? They’d just met. But, she reminded herself, he was from the past and men back then were quick to shield women. And while she didn’t need him fighting her battles, it felt nice that someone might look out for her. “No one. In fact, I just found this little cabin.” She gestured over her shoulder.

He looked up the embankment. The structure could be seen through the trees.

“It’s a nice place. No one has come around yet.” She took a deep breath. “You…you can…stay here with me. I-If you want.”

He turned his attention to her, his gaze pulling at her, tugging her to come closer as they melted with warmth and lit with fondness.

She didn’t dare move, so strong was the need to go to him. What was happening? What was she doing? “I c-can help you find your way h-home.” She could? What was wrong with her?

As he studied her, he didn’t say anything for several moments.

She wanted to squirm under his scrutiny. Not because he made her feel awkward, but because she felt he found her invitation significant. Why would it be?

“I accept.”

And that softly stated reply made her heart pound with relief and gratefulness. What was going on?