Come Home to Me (Second Chances Time Travel Romance Series Book 1)

by Peggy L Henderson

  Jake sat on the ground, his knees drawn up to his chest, and raked his hands through his hair. He pondered his reaction to her. He barely even knew her. She never let him get close enough to start a conversation. He wanted to get to know all about her, something he never explored with other women.

  “You were right, Tom,” he grumbled under his breath. His brother was right that a woman would get Jake into trouble someday. He thought he had been in more than enough trouble with Sandra, but this was different. “It’s not the kind of trouble you thought, brother. Are you happy now?”

  He didn’t know how long he sat there with his eyes closed, listening to the rustling of the animals moving through the grass, and the crickets chirping in the brush. Horses snorted, and cattle bellowed softly. These were oddly comforting sounds. Sounds he’d heard all his life. The grayness in the distant horizon to the east slowly gave way to the sun’s first golden rays. The morning bell clanged off in the distance, and Jake heaved himself up off the ground. Time to start another miserable day, avoiding Rachel while still keeping her in his sights. After what happened tonight, it seemed like an impossible task.

  The strong aroma of coffee brewing over open campfires assaulted his senses. It reminded him of the cup Rachel had brought him. After checking on his mare, he went to dip his head in the nearby creek, and made his way toward the wagons. He shook his head to expel the excess water from his hair. Turning back, he searched for the tin cup in the grass. He knew he shouldn’t go near the Parker’s wagon, but some invisible force led him straight toward it. He stopped a short distance away beneath a sprawling oak tree, and watched.

  Rachel stood bent over the cooking fire, stirring a wooden spoon in her Dutch oven. Tommy and Billy argued over something in Billy’s hand. Jake’s jaw clenched. A man’s figure still huddled in his bedroll under the wagon. That sonofabitch.

  Rachel called to her boys, and they scrambled in her direction. She ladled food onto their plates, and the kids scurried off to sit in the dirt by the wagon wheel.

  Little David was the first to see him standing beside the tree. The toddler waddled as fast as his stubby legs could carry him, his arms stretched out in front of him.

  “Chuk, Chuk.” He called Jake’s name, saying it in his own little baby language. A wide smile spread across Jake’s face, and he knelt to the ground. Something warm wrapped itself around his heart. The toddler tumbled into his arms, a look of pure joy on his chubby baby face.

  Jake lifted the tot high up in the air, spun him around, and then set him on his shoulders. The boy squealed and laughed loudly, and patted his hands on top of Jake’s head like a drum. “Don’t make so much noise, partner. The wagon master’ll think we’re under attack.”

  He grabbed hold of the tot’s legs that dangled down from either side of his shoulders, and headed toward camp. He caught Rachel glaring in his direction. His heart somersaulted in his chest, and Jake cursed under his breath. How could he face her in the light of day? His gut clenched as the memory of her soft curves molded against him rushed back full force. If he had any sense at all, he’d set the boy on the ground, and head in the other direction.

  “David, are you bothering Mr. Owens?” Rachel called. She stepped away from the fire, and walked a few steps toward them. Jake strode up to her, and peeled David off his shoulders.

  “No, ma’am. He’s no bother,” Jake said. Rachel’s eyes widened in surprise. Evidently she hadn’t expected him to address her so formally. He set the toddler on the ground, and he scurried off toward his brothers. Jake’s gaze followed the boy, then returned to rest on Rachel’s pretty face. She hadn’t slept, judging by those dark lines under her eyes. A look of uncertainty, and perhaps a hint of fear shone in those pretty blue eyes of hers. He clenched his jaw. Fear that he’d put there.

  “Breakfast is hot.” Her voice was cold and clipped. “And so is the coffee.”

  Recovering from his surprise at her invitation, he held out the coffee cup that he just now remembered holding in his hand. After what had happened, he was sure she’d never speak to him again.

  “You forgot this last night,” he said quietly. She stared at the cup, then up at him, and abruptly wheeled around to give her full attention to the food in the Dutch oven.

  A loud, raspy cough from under the wagon prevented Jake from calling out to her, wanting to say so much to her, without even knowing what he should say. Thomas Parker evidently thought it was finally time to get up. The man grunted and groaned, and hiked his suspenders up and over his shoulders. He loudly hacked up some phlegm, and spit it on the ground.

  Jake turned to face Thomas. His eyes narrowed. Didn’t the bastard realize he was the luckiest man in the world? Thomas met Jake’s gaze with a brief surprised look on his face.

  “Bring me some coffee, Rachel,” he said, his voice gravely, and headed for the front of the wagon. He reached under the seat and produced a clay flask. Rachel walked past Jake to meet her husband.

  “Good grief, Thomas, not this early in the morning.” She handed him the coffee cup, and stared at the liquor bottle in his hand.

  “Just a touch to the coffee to help me get rid of my headache,” he said gruffly.

  Left standing by the fire, Jake clenched his jaw. Thomas Parker was the biggest fool in the world.

  “Jake, can me and Billy take turns and ride with you today?”

  Jake tore his eyes away from the couple at the wagon to stare down into the hopeful blue eyes of Tommy and Billy Parker gazing up at him. Neither one of the boys had even acknowledged their father. Jake knelt to be at eyelevel with the boys.

  “I don’t see why not, but I think you’d better ask your mama if it’s all right with her.”

  Billy and Tommy exchanged puzzled looks. “How can we ask our mama?” Tommy asked.

  Jake gestured with his chin toward the wagon. “She’s right over there,” he said.

  Tommy and Billy looked at each other again. “That ain’t our mama. That’s Aunt Rachel. Our mama’s in heaven.”

  Jake blinked, wondering if he had heard correctly. Adrenaline raced through him. He stared from the boys to Rachel. Aunt Rachel? She wasn’t their mother? What about David?

  “That’s your papa over there, ain’t it?” Jake asked.

  “Yeah,” Tommy said, and sighed. His chin dropped nearly to his chest, a sad look on his face. “Papa hasn’t been happy since Mama died. That’s why he drinks so much medicine. He says it makes the pain go away.”

  Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had to ask the next question. “What happened to your mama?”

  “She went to heaven when David was born,” Billy chimed in.

  None of these boys were Rachel’s sons! Jake didn’t know what to think. His heart suddenly sprang to life in his chest. If these weren’t her kids, then . . .

  “Is your Aunt Rachel your mama’s sister?”

  “No, she’s Papa’s sister, silly. Don’t you know anything, Jake?” Billy said, a very stern grown-up look on his face.

  Jake’s mouth widened in a slow smile. He almost laughed out loud. Rachel wasn’t married to Thomas Parker. They were siblings. This day had suddenly become a whole lot brighter.

  Chapter 9

  Rachel knelt by the stream, and stuck her hands in the water. The gentle current slid around her wrists as she swirled her fingers in the soothing cold liquid. Cupping her hands, she splashed water on her face. For the first time in two weeks, she could enjoy water that didn’t need to be strained of silt and sand before it was fit for consumption. Late yesterday, Jake Owens had chosen a good spot for them to camp. Apparently Mr. Wilson had agreed. He called for a day of rest, and Rachel knew that this quiet spot along the creek wouldn’t be secluded for long. Everyone was eager to wash the grit and trail dust from their clothes and bodies. Out in the open, a full bath was out of the question. Just for a few minutes, while it was still early morning, the cold air was a small price to pay in exchange for privacy.

  Rachel removed her
worn shoes and stockings, and sat at the water’s edge. She suppressed a gasp when she dangled her feet in the cold stream. Lifting her skirts past her ankles, she stood. The soft sandy bottom massaged her aching soles. Rachel hiked her skirt higher and waded further into the creek. She closed her eyes as the water lapped over her feet and ankles. The ends of her skirt were getting wet, but she didn’t mind. It might wash away a layer of dust in the process.

  Rachel lifted her head toward the morning sun and closed her eyes, letting her mind wander to a happier time in her life. A time when her parents were still alive, and she didn’t have the responsibilities she’d taken on two years ago that weighed heavily on her shoulders.

  The sudden death of her parents nearly five years ago after they’d eaten water hemlock had set in motion a complete change in her life. A well-meaning neighbor had mistaken the poisonous plant for wild parsnips. She’d brought a dish to the farm, eager to share her latest recipe. Rachel hated parsnips. Refusing to eat the dish had saved her life. The next day, her parents and the neighbor were dead.

  She missed Polly, her brother’s wife. The woman Thomas had married had become a close friend and confidant over the years. Rachel shuddered, and tears welled up in her eyes. She waded back to the creek bank, and stepped out of the water. Barefoot, she headed for a wide oak tree a short distance away, and eased herself to the ground, leaning against the trunk. She craved the solitude at the moment. She needed to return to camp to cook breakfast, but a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. Thomas wouldn’t be awake yet, anyways.

  Her brother had changed so much since his wife’s death. After their parents died, he hadn’t hesitated to take over the family farm, and he’d provided a home for Rachel. Fifteen at the time, she was too young to fend for herself. She had formed a tight bond with Polly, and loved her nephews. When Polly died in childbirth two years ago, Rachel had grieved just as much as Thomas, but time had not eased his pain. He couldn’t even look at his youngest son. Rachel often wondered if Thomas blamed the innocent child for his wife’s death.

  She had tried all she could to get Thomas over his grief. A few times she’d even acted as matchmaker, but Thomas had no interest in anything anymore other than the bottle. The burden of raising the boys had fallen solely on Rachel's shoulders. Thomas had barely kept a crop in the ground, and Rachel worked long days in the fields. She no longer had time for friends, or even a beau. Peter Austin had shown an interest in her just before David was born. He’d even hinted at marriage, when he had kissed her at the Fourth of July celebration that summer.

  Rachel’s fingers lightly touched her lips. Peter’s awkward attempt at kissing her had left her rather dismayed at the whole notion of kissing and touching a man. His lips on hers had been wet and sloppy, and the way his hands groped her waist had been a bit off-putting. He had called her beautiful that day.

  Do you know how beautiful you are? Jake Owens’ mesmerizing voice flooded her mind. All images of Peter faded from her mind. He’d stopped calling on her when she had her hands full with a newborn and her two other nephews, who were just toddlers then.

  Her lips suddenly tingled. Jake’s kiss had been so brief, she didn’t even know whether to call it a kiss. It had ignited a flame inside her that still flickered two days later. Her skin prickled where his strong arms wrapped around her waist. Rachel adjusted her seat against the tree, and hugged her arms around her middle, hoping to dispel the sensation. In those brief moments when Jake held her against his solid body, Rachel had felt safe and protected. He was someone she could lean on, who offered her his strength. She was weary all of a sudden. All these years of holding the family together had fallen on her shoulders. It felt so good to have someone else hold her for a change.

  Just get those silly notions out of your mind, Rachel. He’s not the sort of man a decent woman should have her eye on. It was obvious how very good he was at wooing the ladies. She’d observed many female heads turn in his direction, appreciation in women’s eyes, both young and old, during these last few weeks on the trail. Had she fallen under his spell as well? He was never far from her thoughts, and more often than not, her eyes wandered, searching him out during those long hours on the trail.

  A girl’s giggle and loud whispers reached her ears, and Rachel sat up straighter. Apparently, her time of solitude was over.

  “I thought that was you walking down here by the creek.”

  Annabelle Edwards! Rachel glanced around. She couldn’t see the girl, so she was sure Annabelle wasn’t talking to her.

  “Ain’t it a bit early for you to be up and about?” A male voice spoke. Rachel’s heart sped up. Jake Owens’ voice! She bit her lips. Slowly, she tucked her knees up close, hoping they hadn’t seen her. That lying scoundrel! Hadn’t he told her the other night he wasn’t interested in Annabelle, that she was too young for him? Now they were together in the wee hours of the morning.

  “This is the only time I could catch you alone, Jake, when there’s no one else around.”

  Rachel envisioned the girl’s lip jutting out in a pout, and her lashes batting at him in a seductive way. For a fourteen-year-old, she knew quite a bit about flirting with a man.

  “Annabelle, you’re a sweet girl, but I ain’t interested. You ought to find a beau closer to your age.”

  Rachel held her breath. He truly wasn’t interested in Annabelle? With a twinge of guilt for jumping to conclusions, she recalled her earlier thoughts that he was a scoundrel. She wished she could peek around the trunk of the tree and see the look on the girl’s face. A slow smile formed on her lips.

  “Ah, poo. There’s only Michael Horner on this trip, and he’s boring. Not handsome and exciting like you, Jake.”

  Rachel clenched her fists in response to the urge to slap the girl for her irritating sing-songy voice.

  “Get back to your family before you get us both in trouble,” Jake grumbled. He definitely sounded annoyed. Good. Maybe he had been telling the truth after all, and wasn’t interested in Annabelle.

  “It’s because you’re sweet on Rachel Parker, isn’t it?”

  Rachel’s ears perked. Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks, and her heart accelerated. Sweet on her? Jake Owens? Men like him didn’t get sweet on women. Once they got what they wanted, they moved on. Or so she’d heard.

  “What do you see in her anyways? She’s married, and to a drunk, no less. I bet you’re wishing he falls off his wagon and breaks his neck. She won’t give you the time of day before then, Jake. She’s much too prim and proper. I’m willing to learn all the things you do with your other lady friends, if you’ll teach me.”

  He laughed. “And Mrs. Parker accused me of being brazen. Annabelle, get the hell back to your wagon. Now.” His last words were spoken in a menacing tone. He paused. “You’d better be careful. One day, some guy is gonna take you up on your offer, and you might not like the outcome. Get this through your head once and for all. I don’t get involved with little girls.” This time, his voice sounded as if he’d said something that left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

  “Jake,” she whined. “I’m not a little girl.”

  “Then quit acting like one. Get goin’. I ain’t interested.”

  Annabelle sucked in a dramatic breath. Rachel could hear it all the way from her hiding place. “I’ve seen the way you look at Mrs. Parker,” she spat. “My mama says it’s sinful that you’re lusting after a married woman. And it’s even worse that she allows the attention. My mama says –”

  “I don’t give a damn what your mama says.” Jake’s voice deepened almost to a growl. Rachel could picture him baring his teeth. She wished she wasn’t privy to this conversation. She’d known that Mrs. Edwards talked about her behind her back, and it didn’t matter. This was exactly the sort of talk she had expected. Not only was she seen as the wife of a no-good drunk, she was also painted as a wanton woman welcoming the attention of the scout with the notorious reputation. No wonder none of the other women spoke to her. Damn Jake Owens!
Why did he have to single her out? And worse, why did she enjoy his attention, even if he was infuriating and irritating? Tears welled up in her eyes. Wasn’t her life complicated enough?

  “Oh, very well,” Annabelle huffed. “I can wait. You’ll get tired of chasing after Rachel Parker eventually.”

  “Have a nice day, Annabelle.” Jake called.

  Rachel stiffened. By the sound of his voice, he was heading in the direction of the tree she hid behind. She glanced around. There was nowhere else to hide. If she kept real quiet, perhaps he wouldn’t notice her if he simply walked past. Straining her ears, she didn’t hear his footsteps. She breathed in a deep sigh. Perhaps he’d gone in the other direction after all.

  Still barefoot, Rachel pushed herself off the ground, and reached for her shoes.

  “I’m sure you enjoyed that little conversation. You can come out from behind that tree now.”

  Rachel’s heart dropped to her stomach. Heat flamed her face, and her head snapped up. He stood right in front of her, a wide grin on his face. Rachel scrambled to her feet.

  She narrowed her eyes. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. I was already sitting here when you and Annabelle came along.” She lifted her chin, daring him to contradict her.

  “I know,” he said, still grinning. “I watched you come down to the creek.”

  Rachel sucked in a deep breath. “Mr. Owens –”

  “Jake,” he interrupted before she could get out another word. He stepped closer.

  She glared at him, but backed up, and bumped into the tree. “Mr. Owens,” she repeated, more firmly. “If you possess a shred of decency, please leave me be. With the exception of the times you take your meals at our wagon, it is highly inappropriate for me to be in your company. The good people on this wagon train already ostracize me. I don’t need to give them more reason to talk behind my back. You heard what that . . . that little twit said.”