“Is he getting better?” Rachel’s voice quivered, staring up at Jake who’d just crawled out from under the wagon.
He wore a hard expression on his face, unlike anything she’d seen before. He didn’t answer for a long time.
“Jake? Is he getting better?” Rachel implored, the tears streaming down her face. She reached a hand out to touch his arm. She didn’t want to think about the possibility that her brother would die. Jake had made Billy better. He’d do the same for Thomas.
“I don’t know, Rachel. He’s pretty bad. He won’t keep anything down.” Jake’s jaw clenched, and the solemn look in his eyes sent a jolt of panic through her. “Dammit!” He punched at the wooden wagon bed. “He needs to be in a hospital with IV fluids. I don’t even know if what I’m giving him is the right thing to do.”
Rachel’s eyebrows drew together, and she shook her head slightly. She had no idea what Jake was talking about. The only hospitals she’d ever heard about were in the big cities back east.
“I swear to you I’ll do whatever I can to see him through this,” he added hastily. His hand reached up as if to touch her, but he quickly dropped it again. “The best thing you can do right now is keep the fire going, and the water boiling so we can keep giving him fluids to drink.”
“All right,” she said, too numb to say anything else.
Rachel poured more water into the kettle to set over the fire, when the loud voice of Frank Wilson boomed through camp. “Hitch up! Time to move out!”
Hitch up? What? Thomas was in no condition to be moved, let alone drive the wagon. Jake emerged from under the rig, and headed straight for Wilson.
“We have a very sick man here. He can’t be moved right now,” Jake barked at the wagon master, his arm pointing in the direction of Rachel’s wagon. Wilson leaned forward, inches from Jake’s face. Rachel stared at the two men who looked like a couple of dogs snarling at each other, ready to go at each other’s throats.
“We ain’t got time to wait around for one person, Owens. His wife can drive the wagon.”
“Thomas Parker is too sick. He won’t be able to handle the jostling of riding in a wagon.”
“Owens.” Mr. Wilson pointed his finger at Jake. “I got thirteen other families here I gotta worry about. Either Parker can move, or he stays put.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jake yelled. “You’re just going to leave him here?”
Wilson shrugged, and turned to walk away. “His wife can stay with him. If he survives, they can catch up, or wait for the next company to come through here.”
“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Jake stomped after the wagon master. “You can’t leave a woman here alone in the middle of nowhere to tend to a sick man.”
Wilson shot him a cold stare. “I can, and I will.” He turned his attention back to the people who’d stopped what they were doing to watch the confrontation.
“Then I’m staying here, too,” Jake called after him.
Wilson slowly turned around and scoffed at him. “You signed on to scout for this train, Owens. You can’t stay here.”
“Stop me,” Jake sneered. With clenched fists at his side, he wheeled around and headed back in Rachel’s direction. From the burning anger in his eyes and firmly set lips, he looked ready to murder someone. As if he didn’t even notice her, Jake darted past and peered under the wagon. Rachel’s eyes followed him. Thomas writhed and moaned in his blankets, but hadn’t vomited again.
Mary rushed up beside her. “Rachel, I’ll take the children with me. You get your man . . . I mean your brother, better, and catch up with us.”
“Are you sure, Mary?” Rachel grabbed her friend’s arm.
“It’s best these kids don’t see their pa so sick. And you’ll have your hands full.”
Tears welled up in Rachel’s eyes. “Thank you. You’re a true friend.”
“We gotta help each other out here, don’t we?” Mary smiled weakly. “And I know you’ll be in good hands, too.” She nodded towards Jake.
Minutes later, wagons began to roll, and Rachel coughed at the dust that stirred in the air. She hugged Tommy, Billy, and David to her, and told them to be good boys and to listen to Mrs. Holland. David cried, refusing to let go of her skirt when Mary pulled him away.
“I’ll see you in a few days,” Rachel promised. “Just as soon as your papa is well, we’ll catch up.” She fought back the tears in her eyes as Tommy and Billy solemnly climbed into the back of the Holland’s wagon. David continued to call to her, and his cries echoed in her mind long after the train was out of earshot. Wiping at her face, she turned her attention back to the fire, thinking vaguely that she should cook something, do anything to keep her mind busy.
Jake picketed the mules so they wouldn’t follow the train out of habit. He hadn’t said a word to her. Did he regret his impulsive decision to stay behind with her? He erected a lean-too type tent against the side of the wagon, and moved Thomas out and away from the soiled blankets he’d lain in.
“Burn all this,” Jake said gruffly, and tossed the blankets by the fire. He washed his hands, scrubbing vigorously with the soap, then swept past her.
“Jake.” Rachel reached for his arm. He stopped, and finally made eye contact with her. His taut features soften slightly. “I’m sorry you’re here on my account. You should have ridden out with the train.”
He gave a short laugh. “And leave you here alone? I can’t do that.” He shook his head. Running a hand through his hair, he sniggered. “I might just have blown my chance at freedom back home, but what the hell was I supposed to do?” He pointed toward the line of wagons disappearing in the distance. “How can I watch out for all these people and keep you safe at the same time? I had to make a choice. I hope the good reverend will understand that.” He sounded as if he was reasoning with himself.
Confused, Rachel’s eyebrows drew together. He wasn’t making sense again. His arm muscles coiled tight under his shirt, and Rachel dropped her hand. He was clearly angry about the decision he’d made to stay behind with her. No sooner had she broken contact with him, and his own hand reached for her, pulling her to him. Rachel’s breath left her lungs, and she braced one hand against his chest. She’d longed to be in his arms since the night before, but with Thomas so sick at the moment, it didn’t feel right.
“I’d make the same choice again, Rachel,” he said, his voice deep and husky as he stared down at her. His fingers lightly caressed her cheek, and he dipped his head to claim her mouth. The instant his lips made contact with hers, she melted into him. His kiss was soft and gentle, not heated as it had been the previous evening, but the response in her was the same. Her heart raced in her chest, and warmth spread throughout her body, pooling in her gut.
Jake pulled his head back, and a tentative smile formed on his lips.
“Where’s home, Jake?” Rachel whispered, mesmerized from staring into his dark eyes. His body instantly tensed, and he dropped his arms away from her. His eyes contemplated her face, and he didn’t answer right away.
“What?” he asked, sounding uncomfortable all of a sudden.
“What did you mean when you said you might have blown your chance at freedom? Where do you call home?” Rachel elaborated.
“Right now, it’s in a California jail cell,” he finally answered, his jaw muscles tight. He stepped away from her.
California! Jail! Rachel’s mind refused to believe he was a criminal. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and realized suddenly how very little she really knew about Jake Owens. How was it possible that she had such strong feelings for him?
“What did you do to end up in jail?” she asked tentatively.
“I was accused of murder.” His stare was unwavering. “Reverend Johnson bailed me out, and said he’d clear my name if I agreed to scout for this wagon train.”
Murder! Reverend Johnson? Rachel groped her mind for understanding. Was he referring to the same Reverend Johnson as the one in Kannesville?
“The reverend’s been all the way to California and back?” Her eyes widened.
Jake laughed. “Oh, I think the good reverend’s been in a lot of places.” His eyes darkened, and the smile vanished from his face. “I didn’t kill anyone, Rachel. I was sent here to do a job so I can get my name cleared, and that’s what I aim to do.”
“Where do you live when you’re not in jail?” She’d never had the chance to openly talk to him about personal matters before. He couldn’t be guilty of murder if a man of the church believed in his innocence, could he?
“My home’s always been in Montana.”
“Is that part of the Oregon territory?” She’d never heard of this place before.
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“Will you be going back there when . . . after you’ve completed your job?”
“Yeah. I think so. Coming here’s made me see that Montana’s really where I belong.” He faced her fully, and reached for her hand again. “My family runs a large ranch there. There’s trees and mountains, and I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t believe how much I miss it.” He laughed suddenly.
Rachel dropped her gaze to the ground and studied the sand. He’d be leaving when his job to get the wagon train to Oregon was completed. You knew he would. You can’t hold a man like him.
Jake lifted her chin with two fingers. “There’s only one thing missing that would make it perfect,” he whispered when she met his stare. He held her hand to his chest.
A raspy cough came from the lean-too and jolted her to the core. Both of their heads turned in the direction of the makeshift tent. Rachel stepped quickly away from Jake and rushed to the side of the wagon. The coughing and gagging increased, and Jake held her back when she would have crawled under the canvas.
“Thomas?” she called, and pushed her way past Jake and through the opening. The sight of her brother’s blue-tinged skin, gasping for air, filled her chest with terror unlike anything she’d ever felt.
Thomas stared wide-eyed at nothing. Rachel reached for her brother’s hand. His head turned in her direction. “I’m coming, Polly,” he rasped, and his hand relaxed in Rachel’s grip.
“No! Thomas,” Rachel squeezed his hand. She watched in horror as the last spark of life drained from his eyes. With one final shudder and heave and dip of his chest, Thomas Parker exhaled his final breath.
Too numb to react, Rachel stared at her brother’s lifeless form, and realized she was now completely on her own.
Chapter 16
Jake swiped the back of his hand across his forehead, but droplets of sweat still managed to sting his eyes. He blinked to dispel the burn, then dumped the last shovel full of dirt onto the mound of freshly dug earth. He stuck the simple wooden cross he’d fashioned from two sticks he’d tied together with twine into the ground, and peered over his shoulder. Rachel stood quietly behind him, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her solemn eyes on the grave. She’d barely spoken a word since yesterday afternoon, after Thomas had breathed his last breath.
Jake’s heart went out to her. From the moment he’d seen Thomas sick that morning, he’d known that it didn’t look good for Rachel’s brother. He’d already vomited so much by the time Rachel had found him, his body was dehydrated beyond recovery without intravenous fluids. The little bit of water he managed to keep down hadn’t been enough.
Rachel’s stoic behavior in the wake of her brother’s death unnerved him. She hadn’t cried. She’d walked away from the dead body, and gone about fixing a supper of rice, beans, biscuits, and leftover buffalo meat. When she barely touched her food, Jake had set his own plate aside, and tried to pull her into his arms. She’d pushed him away, and disappeared in the wagon for the rest of the night.
Jake decided to leave her alone with her grief. It had to be quite a shock to her. She was suddenly all alone on a trek across the country to a foreign land. What must be going through her mind? She had three little kids to worry about now, and no man to take care of her.
This journey might test her like nothing before. Reverend Johnson’s words haunted him now. The old man hadn’t been kidding. Jake wondered again how much the reverend knew. Had he foreseen Thomas’ death? That’s why the reverend gave her to you to protect. If he’d known all that, he would have also known that Jake would fall in love with her.
How would Rachel react if he told her he was from the future? He couldn’t possibly say anything to her, yet. Shortly before Thomas’ death, he’d almost asked her to come with him to Montana. She needed time to mourn her brother before he even thought to bring it up.
Jake gripped the shovel, and turned to face Rachel. He touched his hand to her shoulder and stepped closer. Her head snapped up; her eyes wide and shimmering. A slight breeze lifted strands of her hair that had come loose of its braid, and blew into her face. Jake wiped at her cheek and tucked the tendrils behind her ear.
“Would you like to say something?” he asked gently.
Rachel’s unfocused gaze darted from him to the grave, and back again. Her body shivered slightly. Her eyes suddenly filled with the tears she’d suppressed since yesterday. Jake expelled his breath, and pulled her into his arms. For a second, he thought she might object, but then her body went limp. She wrapped her arms around his middle, and buried her face in his shirt. Sobbing quietly, her body shook and quivered, and Jake held her in a tight embrace. He stroked the back of her head, and ran his hand up and down her back.
“Let it out, sweetheart. It’s okay to cry,” he whispered.
“He was all I had,” she rasped into his shirt. “All that was left of my family.”
Jake lifted her head from his chest. Her eyes glistened, and tears streamed down her face. “You still have the boys,” he offered, knowing it was probably not what she needed to hear. And you have me, he desperately wanted to add. This was not the time to bring it up. He still hadn’t worked it out in his own mind what to do about her once he reached the end of the trail in Oregon.
Rachel nodded slowly. “How am I going to tell them their papa is gone?”
Jake held her face between his hands, and swiped at her tears with his thumbs. “We’ll figure it out.” He eased her head against his chest, and simply held her. Consoling a grief-stricken woman was unfamiliar territory.
It would be so easy to tell her right now that he wanted her to come to Montana with him. But that meant he also had to tell her he was from the future. He couldn’t possibly drop such a bomb on her. Not yet, anyway. He could simply tell her he’d stay with her in Oregon, but he didn’t want to lie to her. One way or another, he’d figure out a way to keep her, whether in this time or in the twenty-first century. Would she even want to stay with him? She obviously had feelings for him, but did she love him?
Thomas had told him she had no experience with men, and thought she was simply infatuated with him. She herself had told him she’d surrendered to him, that she was tired of running from his pursuit of her. Jake’s jaw clenched, and he cursed silently. He didn’t want her surrender. He wanted her love. The innocent ways she’d kissed him told him she was unsure of herself. He had to tread lightly, and go slow.
The late afternoon breeze whooshed gently around them, cooling Jake’s face. Crickets and other evening bugs grew louder amongst the sage and grasses. Coyotes yipped in the far-off distance, and one of the mules brayed along the river. Jake’s mare pinned her ears at the annoying beast, and lumbered away towards the banks of the Platte, sticking her nose in the water for a drink. She swooshed her tail in an agitated manner, evening bugs swarming around her rump.
How long he stood there in the open, flat expanse of the Nebraska prairie, holding Rachel in his arms, Jake had no idea. The evening sun slowly sank in the western horizon, painting the sky different shades of orange, red, and purple. She’d stopped sobbing some time ago, and her body had stilled as if she’d fallen asleep. He eased his upper body away from her, and she moaned softly.
“Don’t let go of me.” Her so
ft request was almost inaudible. Jake’s heart ignited in his chest. I’ll never let you go.
“Let’s get back to the wagon, Rachel,” he said, instead of what was really on his mind. He tried to step back, but her grip around him tightened. Jake bent and hooked his arm behind her knees, and lifted her off the ground. Like a vice, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Jake clenched his jaw. If he didn’t know any better . . .
No, Rachel was reacting out of grief. She clung to him because he was the only person available. He couldn’t take advantage of her. Adjusting his hold on her, he carried her back to camp. He’d come back for the shovel later. She rested her head against his shoulder, and a multitude of emotions exploded in him. Her grip around his neck didn’t ease up. She had no idea what she was doing to him.
Back at the wagon, he tried to set her on the tailgate. “If you’d like to rest, I’ll fix some supper,” he whispered in her ear. Rachel lifted her head, and stared up into his eyes. Her blue pools still glistened with the remnants of her tears, but there was also something else. Her pupils widened, her face inches from his.
“Kiss me, Jake,” she demanded softly. Jake cursed under his breath.
“Rachel, I don’t think –”
She leaned up and pressed her lips to his, her arms tightening around his neck to draw him closer. Inexperience showed in the hesitant way in which she moved her mouth against his. Jake groaned, and his biceps bunched as he drew her firmly to his chest. He opened his mouth slightly and adjusted his lips over hers, and took command of the kiss. His body roared to life. Against his better judgment, he slanted his mouth across hers, giving in to the fire that ignited inside of him.
Rachel moaned softly, and Jake’s hold on her tightened. Without breaking the kiss, he backed away from the wagon, and carried her to his bedroll several feet away. He carefully sank to his knees, eased her onto the blanket, and bent over her.
Finally, he pulled his head back as far as she allowed. Her grip around his neck hadn’t let up, as if she was afraid he would vanish if she loosened her hold. He studied her face for a moment, trying to contain his out-of-control breathing. His heart hammered in his chest, and his body responded to her undeniable request.
Come Home to Me (Second Chances Time Travel Romance Series Book 1) Page 15
