Between Two Worlds

A
300-year old Celtic curse unites a career woman from the present with a western
doctor from the past. 
Delaney Marshall is disappointed with the dating scene and making costly
mistakes in her career.  On a day when everything goes wrong, a rainbow
appears and a strange Irish cab driver urges her to cross a bridge she's never
seen before—causing her to question her sanity after realizing she's stepped
into the Wild West 124 years in the past.
Gabriel Whitman, a handsome bachelor with a secret, is the town doctor in 1888
Phoenix.  When a runaway wagon threatens the life of a pretty blonde in a
short skirt and mismatched shoes, he pushes her out of harm's way, and more
than sparks from the wagon wheels start to fly.
Somehow Delaney's traveled into another world and found the man of her
dreams.  But can true love transcend the separation of time?

Dedication

To my husband, Paul, a true hero.

Prologue

“Wake up, Samuel! ‘Tis time again.”

“So soon?” Sam grumbled.

“Quit yer complainin’. You’ve been sleepin’ for a hundred and
twenty years. That’s more ’en enough rest. It’s high time ye get back to work.
Ye’re probably as fat as a toad by now. Arise and do yer job!”

“Aye, laddie. Don’t worry yer head. I’ll do me job, all right.
What was the wish this time? Money? Fame? Immortality?” He sighed with the
ceaseless boredom of it all.

“None of those things,” the voice assured. “How does true love
strike ye?”

“Ahhh.” Samuel sighed. “Finally! Something I can put me heart
into.”

One

Phoenix, Arizona—Present Day

Delaney Marshall’s co-worker trailed her into the Pendergrass
Advertising Agency’s ladies’ room. “You’re late. What happened to your suit?
And why are you wearing two different shoes?” Meredith wet a paper towel and
began to dab at the ketchup stain on Delaney’s lavender pencil skirt.

“Stop, Meredith! You’re making it worse.” Delaney plucked a
pint-sized brush out of her handbag and ran it through her hair.

Meredith backed up and frowned. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “You’re
right. I think I just made the stain more noticeable. How on earth did you get
ketchup on your skirt? It’s only eight-forty in the morning. Were you eating
hot dogs for breakfast?”

“I hate taxi cabs,” Delaney muttered. “This red gunk was on the
seat, but I didn’t see until it was too late.”

“Why were you in a taxi? What’s wrong with your car?”

“You know my car’s a piece of junk. It wouldn’t start again.”
Delaney glazed her lips with pink gloss and straightened the collar of her
starched white blouse.

“Why didn’t you call me? I could have picked you up. Today is one
of the most important days of your career. It could mean a promotion if you
pull this off.”

“Please don’t remind me. I was running late, or I would
have
called. I was up all night tossing and turning over this marketing pitch, and then
my stupid alarm clock didn’t go off.”

“Were you still asleep when you got dressed?” Meredith’s eyebrow
arched as she shot a gaze to Delaney’s feet.

Delaney peered down and rolled her eyes. “Good grief.”

“They aren’t even the same type of heel,” Meredith said. “How
could you not notice you were wearing one black shoe and one navy?”

“I don’t know. I’m scatter-brained, okay?” She glanced at her
watch. “I’ve got to get into the conference room. My presentation begins in
twenty minutes. Take off your shoes.”

“What?”

“Please switch shoes with me, Meredith. I can’t go in there like
this. You just said it’s the most important day of my career.”

Meredith bent and removed her high heels. “Your feet are going to
be squeezed into these.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Delaney shoved her size eight feet into
Meredith’s size six and a half shoes.

Meredith slipped into the mismatched pumps and grabbed Delaney’s
arm. “Before you go, tell me how your dinner date went the other night. You’ve
been so busy we haven’t had a chance to talk.”

“I honestly think I’m giving up on men. My dating life has been
going so badly, I’m considering joining a convent.”

Meredith patted her shoulder. “Twenty-four is too young for that
kind of talk. And you can’t become a nun. You’re not Catholic. Besides, I
always thought blondes have more fun. What happened this time?”

Delaney frowned. “It’s always the same. They’re addicted to
something, afraid of commitment, still in the closet, or just plain weird. Not
to mention the ones with wives or girlfriends who seem to zero in on me like
radar.”

Meredith shook her head. “Don’t tell me this was another jerk who
conveniently forgot to tell you he was married?”

“Not this time. This guy chewed with his mouth open, snorted when
he laughed, and tried to grope my thigh under the table.”

Meredith sighed. “It could have been worse, I suppose.”

“Ugh. If that’s what I have to keep looking forward to, then I’ll
stay single, thank you.”

 “I’m sorry, Delaney, but I think you watched too many Disney
movies when you were a kid. You expect way too much from the male population.
There’s no perfect Prince Charming out there, you know.”

Delaney slicked down her skirt. “I’m not looking for Prince
Charming. I’d just like to meet a man who will respect me, hold an intelligent
conversation, and support me in my goals and dreams. And,” she added, “hold the
door open once in a while, and love me with all his heart and soul. Is that
really too much to ask for—an old fashioned guy who knows how to court a woman
properly?”

Meredith shook her head. “No. I guess not. We all deserve that
kind of man. Unfortunately, I don’t think he lives in this century.”

Delaney took another quick look in the mirror. She was as ready as
she’d ever be. “Right now, I don’t have time to think about men or dating, or
anything except the ad I’m about to pitch. Is Mr. Pendergrass already in the
conference room?”

“Yes. The clients are probably there by now, too. You’d better
hurry.”

Delaney gave her a hug. “Thank you, Mare. For your support, and
for your shoes. You’re the best.”

Meredith smiled. “Go in and knock ‘em dead, kiddo. Is your cell
phone turned off?”

Delaney unsnapped her purse and pulled out the phone. “No. Thanks
for the reminder.”

When she entered the large conference room, the clients were
seated at the table with folders and coffee mugs in front of them. She smiled,
turned, and met the eyes of her boss—the owner of the firm. Mr. Pendergrass’s
stare dropped to the stain on her skirt, and then his eyes swung between her
and the clock on the wall.

She ignored his puckered mouth and sour expression. “Good morning!
I’m Delaney Marshall,” she said, shaking hands with the three drug company
executives. “If you’re all ready, we’ll get started.”

“Yes. Let’s,” Pendergrass said dryly.

~ * ~

When the meeting was over and the clients had left, Mr. Pendergrass
closed the door. “Sit down, Ms. Marshall. I want to speak with you.”

Delaney returned to the table. Her sixty-three-year-old boss
pulled out a chair and sat across from her and came straight to the point.

“Delaney, your father and I go way back, and I’ve known you all
your life. You weren’t even a twinkle in his eye when he and I started this
company. I was more than happy to bring you on as an intern fresh out of
college three years ago. Even though your father retired that same year and
sold me his share of the business, I assure you, I didn’t hire you as a favor
to him. I knew your heart was set on making it in the advertising field. I
wanted to give you a chance to make it on your own merits, the same as anyone from
off the street. Since you’ve been with this agency, you’ve shown yourself to be
a capable, intelligent, and enthusiastic employee.” He stroked his gray
moustache. “But I’ve been wondering, more and more, whether your head is in the
advertising game after all. I’m questioning whether you really have what it
takes to make it in this business.”

“Why do you say that, sir?” Under the table, Delaney fought the
urge to crack her knuckles. It was a bad habit she’d developed as a child—a
habit that surfaced when she became nervous or upset.

Pendergrass leveled a gaze at her. “I owe it to you to be
completely honest. You’re simply not cutthroat enough for this job. The fire I
saw in you before has fizzled out. That presentation you just gave is a perfect
example of the lackluster attitude I’ve been noticing.”

“But, sir…” Delaney’s chest grew tight.

“Let me finish.” His bushy eyebrows twitched. “I don’t know what
you were thinking when you put that mess together. I wanted to crawl under the
table in humiliation. It was quite obvious to me,
and
our clients, that
you don’t believe in the product. It was as if you didn’t relate to it at all.”

Delaney reached for calm and said, “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you
or the company, Mr. Pendergrass. Since we’re being frank, I must tell you I
don’t
relate to the product, or to the consumers who take it. Adults with half a brain
know that popping a pill once a day will
not
make them lose weight.
Those naïve people who think it will—well, they’re being taken advantage of,
and that’s not right. I came up with a campaign for that pharmaceutical
company, but it was very difficult. I feel they’re committing fraud by selling
a product that’s not going to work.”

Instead of exuding confidence in her opinion, Delaney feared she
was coming off as a whiner, but it was too late now. She’d expressed her true
feelings.

Pendergrass raised a hand to stop her from continuing. “It doesn’t
matter whether you agree with a product or not, or even whether you are morally
opposed to a company and its mission. It’s your job to design and sell a
campaign that will make the client happy. If the client’s happy, they’ll hire
our agency. If they hire our agency, we make a lot of money. When we make
money, everyone earns a living. Are you grasping the concept, Ms. Marshall?”

“Yes, but…”

“There are no buts in advertising.” He pushed back from the table
and stood. He straightened his tie. “I’ve thought it over, and I believe it’d
be a good idea if you took a couple of weeks off. Take some time to think good
and hard about your career. Decide what you really want to do with your life.”

Delaney stood, too. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her
legs suddenly felt like rubber. She thought she might collapse, like a popped
balloon. Her hands trembled as she searched his deeply lined face. “Is that
code for, I’m fired?” she asked with a shaky voice.

Pendergrass shook his head. “No. But I want you to seriously
consider whether this is the right path for you.” His tone softened. “You’re
young, Delaney. There are many options out there in this big world. Advertising
is not the be all and end all. Your father may have brainwashed you into
thinking it was, but, believe me, there’s a lot more to life than pitching ads,
especially when your heart and soul is not in it.”