Chase the Lightning

by Madeline Baker

  He stripped the rigging from the other two horses and turned them out in the corral. Taking up the reins of the gray, he swung into the saddle and went in search of Amanda.

  He had no trouble following the stallion’s tracks. The trail was clear and easy to read until it simply disappeared. He sat there for a long time, staring at the place where the stallion’s tracks ended. He had put her on Relámpago, knowing the horse would carry her to safety. He hadn’t figured on the stallion carrying her back to her own time.

  Knowing it was useless, he urged his mount forward. No mist rose up to meet him. The world didn’t spin out of focus, there was no buzzing in his ears, and he knew that even if he rode forever, he would never find her.

  * * * * *

  Amanda woke feeling disoriented. Where was she? She reached for Trey, but he wasn’t there, and then it all came back to her. She was home again.

  Rising, she went into the living room. How long had she been gone? Did the days pass the same in the past as in the present? The blinking light of her answering machine caught her eye. She had twenty-seven messages.

  Sitting on the arm of the sofa, she hit play.

  The first one was from Rob. “Mandy, if you’re home, please call me.”

  After several more from Rob, there was a message from her mother. “Amanda, sweetheart, please call us. We’re so worried.”

  Most of the remaining messages were also from Rob and her mother. There were half a dozen from her father, three from Earl Hennessy, the first wondering why she hadn’t shown up for work, the second asking if she was coming to work, the third saying they had found someone else. There was a message from her dentist’s office informing her she had missed her annual checkup, three were wrong numbers. The last two were from telephone solicitors. How long had she been gone? She realized she didn’t remember the exact date of that shootout in the front yard…

  The shootout. There had been no traces of it when she rode in.

  She turned on the TV and turned to the all news channel. The sheer familiarity of the images on the screen brought tears to her eyes. The announcers rattled on about one disaster after another—nothing new there—but the date displayed on the screen told her that she had been gone several months. Months!

  Just like in the past.

  With a sigh, she picked up the phone and called her mother, wondering how she would explain what had happened, wondering who on earth would believe it. She considered making something up, but she’d never been a good liar, especially where her mother was concerned. Florence Burkett could spot a lie in a heartbeat. As Amanda had expected, her mother was dubious. Finally, weary of trying to convince her, Amanda said goodbye and hung up thinking that, in this case, she should have tried a lie first.

  Her next call was to her father. She was relieved when he wasn’t home. Next, she called Earl Hennessy. She apologized for her absence, told him something unexpected had come up and she was sorry for not calling him sooner. She assured him she understood why he had given the job to someone else and then, taking a deep breath, she made the call she dreaded most.

  Rob picked up the phone on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Hi Rob, it’s me.”

  “Amanda! Where are you? Are you all right? I’ve been going crazy here, wondering where you were.”

  “I’m home, I’m fine…”

  “Don’t move! I’ll be right there,” he said, and hung up the phone.

  Amanda stared at the receiver in her hand. She really wasn’t ready to talk about this with anyone face to face, but when she hit redial, she got his answering machine.

  With a sigh, she put the receiver down.

  He was there in record time. Watching him hurry up the stairs, she figured he must have run every red light and broken every speed law to get there so fast.

  He burst into the house and swept her into his arms. “Amanda! I’ve been worried sick. Are you all right? Where the hell have you been? Why didn’t you call?”

  He hugged her so tight she could scarcely breathe. “Rob…”

  “Oh, sorry.” He loosened his hold, but didn’t let her go. “Amanda.” He gazed down at her, and then he kissed her.

  When she didn’t respond, his arms fell away and he took a step backward, his eyes narrowed. “What is it? What’s wrong? I know we didn’t part on the best of terms when I was here last, but…you’re not still upset about that, are you? No,” he said, answering his own question. “You’ve never been one to stay mad. It’s Long Walker, isn’t it? Is that where you’ve been? With him?”

  She nodded. “Yes, but not the way you think.” She blew out a sigh. “You might as well sit down.”

  He looked at her a moment, then dropped into the nearest chair.

  Amanda sat on the sofa, wondering where to begin. “I know you have a lot of questions…”

  “Damn right.” He frowned. “What are you doing in that getup?”

  She glanced down at her dress. Her wedding dress. She’d had so much on her mind, she hadn’t thought to change. Or maybe she just hadn’t wanted to change.

  “Well?” Rob asked impatiently.

  “I don’t suppose you believe in time travel.”

  He lifted one brow. “Time travel?”

  She nodded. “Trey came here from the past.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “It’s true. Relámpago brought him.”

  “Who?”

  “The stallion, remember?”

  “Sure. Whatever happened to the horse?”

  “He’s outside….isn’t he?”

  Rob shook his head. “Go on. The horse brought him here. From the past.”

  “Yes. You remember his gun? The one you thought was a well-preserved original? It was original—and almost new. Like this dress.”

  “He brought a dress with him?”

  “No. Somehow Trey came here from the past. We went riding one day, and when we got back here, Bolander’s brothers and a cousin were waiting for us. They were looking for you. Trey shot one…”

  “Cletus. He’s dead.” Rob swore softly. “County investigators matched his blood to some found in the yard here. But there wasn’t enough evidence to make a case against the others, not officially. I went after the other two. They told me some cock and bull story about chasing a couple of riders on a horse that disappeared. At first, I thought maybe they’d kidnapped you, killed you, but Nate and Arnie both swore they’d never touched you. They even took lie detector tests. The cops were all over this place.”

  He gestured at a smear of black powder by a light switch. “Fingerprinting, the whole nine yards. They finally decided that if you’d left, you’d left of your own free will. So, where were you all this time?”

  “Relámpago carried us into the past.”

  Rob stared at her, disbelief etched on his features.

  “It’s true! I don’t expect you to believe it. I don’t expect anyone to believe it. But it’s true.”

  “I don’t know whether I believe you or not,” he said, “but those cartridge boxes he left behind didn’t come from this century. And neither did those bank notes. The sheriff’s office says they’re worth a fortune today. Collectibles.” His mouth twisted. “So, where’s the cowboy?”

  “Back in his own time.”

  Rob shook his head. “Incredible. So, you’ve been to the past, and now you’re back. Where does that leave us?”

  “The sheriff’s office took his money?” she asked, ignoring his question.

  “It was his?”

  “Trey had it when he got here. In his saddlebags. He…he’d robbed a bank.”

  “Nice guy. But he could be delusional, you know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Hell, maybe you are, too. The money doesn’t prove anything.”

  She stared at him. Trey would have believed her, she thought, no matter what. “All right,” she said, “Don’t believe me, I don’t care. But where do you think all that old money came from?”

  “I don’t know.” Rising, he
began to pace the floor.

  She stood there, watching him, wondering how she could make him believe, wondering what difference it made. Nothing mattered now that Trey was gone, nothing but the child beneath her heart.

  Rob came to an abrupt halt. “You didn’t answer me before. Where does all this leave us?” He reached into his pocket, then held out his hand. “Wherever you went, you left this behind. I guess that’s my answer.”

  She stared at the diamond ring in his palm, remembering the day she had taken it off, the day she had known she could never marry him. “Rob…I’m pregnant.”

  His hand snapped shut around the ring, tightened into a white-knuckled fist. “I guess I don’t have to ask who the father is. I know for damn sure it isn’t me.”

  “I’m sorry, Rob. I don’t know what to say. I didn’t mean to fall in love with him, it just happened. We…got married.”

  “Yeah. Well, I hate to tell you this, but your cowboy bank robber is long dead. Over a hundred years dead, if what you say is true.”

  The words stabbed her to the heart. Tears welled in her eyes, slid down her cheeks. She made no move to wipe them away.

  He shook his head, his eyes as cold as blue ice. “I hope you’ll be happy with your decision. Goodbye, Amanda.”

  Tears ran down her cheeks as she watched him walk out of her house, and out of her life. But the tears weren’t for Rob. They were for herself, and the child that Trey would never see.

  Rob’s Expedition had barely cleared the driveway before she rushed to the corral, hoping against hope he had been wrong. But Relámpago was gone and with him her only hope of returning to the past, and Trey.

  She looked outside first thing every morning, hoping to see the stallion in the corral, and every morning her hope that he would return to her grew fainter.

  She moved through the next few days like a sleepwalker, her thoughts more in the past than the present as she relived every day, every minute, she had spent with Trey, from the first day she had seen him slumped over Relámpago’s neck to the last time, when he had been fighting for his life.

  She found out that her father had been paying the utilities. Over his protests, she wrote out a check and mailed it to him. Needing to keep busy, she methodically cleaned the house, obliterating the dust of disuse and the last traces of fingerprint powder. She washed all the silverware, and every dish, glass, pot and pan in the kitchen. She washed the windows, the curtains in the kitchen and the bathrooms.

  Every night, she fell into bed, exhausted, only to lie awake, thinking of Trey, wondering, always wondering, what his fate had been. She prayed he had lived a good long life, that he had found a place where he could live in peace. As much as it hurt to think of him with another woman, she hoped he had found someone to love, someone to love him as much as she had.

  As for herself, she knew she would never love again. Her only solace, her only reason for living, was the child.

  Trey Long Walker’s child, growing in love beneath her heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The baby’s kicking woke Amanda from a sound sleep. She placed her hand over her belly, smiling sleepily as a tiny foot moved under her palm. It had to be a boy, she thought, a boy with Trey’s dark eyes and black hair. A boy with Trey’s roguish grin. She was going to have to go to the doctor soon, make arrangements for a hospital, buy a crib. Notify her parents…she would wait for that. Her father hadn’t been any more impressed with her story than her mother had. He had even suggested she consider professional help. He had offered to come and stay with her until she regained her senses, but she had turned him down, causing a strain between them. Her mother had also offered to come and stay for a few days, but Amanda had asked her to wait a few weeks. Her mother had been hurt, but not angry. Amanda was sorry for that, but she needed some time alone, time to adjust. Time to grieve.

  Rising, she took a shower and dressed. Grabbing her keys, she left the house. The Jag, covered with a layer of dust, was where she had left it. Putting the top down, she backed out of the garage.

  It was a lovely day for a drive. The sky was a bright blue, the air warm and clear. She drove toward Canyon Creek, then veered off on a dirt road, hoping she was going the right way.

  When the surrounding countryside started to look vaguely familiar, she pulled off the road and began to walk.

  Trey was beside her every step of the way.

  There wasn’t much left of the shack save for two walls and part of the roof.

  The barn was still standing, warped and weathered by time. The corral was gone.

  “Trey.” She whispered his name. “Trey, Trey, what happened to you?”

  Had he been killed by those bounty hunters? Or had Relámpago returned in time to carry him to safety?

  “Stupid horse,” she muttered. “Where are you when I need you?”

  Trey. Had he survived the fight? Fallen in love again? Married someone else? Or spent the rest of his life on the run?

  As much as she wanted him to have lived a long and happy life, the thought of him being with another woman was like a dagger in her heart.

  She ran her fingers over her wedding ring, remembering the words he had spoken on their wedding day. Closing her eyes, she heard his voice in the back of her mind: I love you. Now and forever. Only you.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “Now and forever. Only you…”

  The barest hint of a breeze stirred, ruffling the leaves of a nearby Palo Verde, moving through her hair like a lover’s caress.

  She heard a faint sound, like distant thunder, or the pounding hoofbeats of a horse. She glanced around. The sky was still clear. There was no one else in sight.

  The breeze picked up, creating a dust devil near the front of the adobe’s remains. It reminded her of her time with the Apaches, of their belief that evil spirits lived in the whirlwind.

  From the west, gauzy fingers of pale gray mist rose from the ground, blurring her vision, obscuring the sun.

  The hoofbeats grew louder. She could feel the vibration beneath her feet.

  She whispered his name, not daring to believe even as hope sang in her heart. “Trey.”

  She saw him through the mist, riding hard, knew he was being pursued. She saw a vague image of half a dozen men riding behind him. There was a flash of fire, the sharp bark of a rifle.

  She cried out as he jerked in the saddle, screamed in pain and denial as he fell forward across Relámpago’s withers, and then the stallion was racing toward her out of the swirling gray mist.

  Relámpago slowed to a walk, halted with a toss of his head.

  Trey looked up. She heard him whisper her name as their gazes met, and then he toppled sideways from the saddle to lie still at her feet.

  She stood there for a moment, unable to move, afraid to move. What if he was… She couldn’t form the word in her mind.

  On legs that felt like lead, she moved toward him. “Trey…” She knelt at his side, her gaze running over him, her stomach clenching in horror when she saw the blood dripping down the side of his head. “No. Oh, no…”

  Relámpago whinnied softly. Coming up behind her, he gave her a shove.

  With a startled cry, she fell forward, across Trey’s chest, her eyes widening, her heart soaring when he grunted.

  Scrambling to her hands and knees, she looked down into his eyes.

  “You’re alive!” she exclaimed. “Oh, Trey!” She reached for him, her hands moving over chest and shoulders, feeling solid flesh. “You’re here! You’re really here.” She drew back, her brow furrowed. “Your head…all that blood.”

  He lifted one hand to his temple. “Bullet grazed me. Gonna have a hell of a headache, I reckon. Nothing but trouble since you’ve been gone,” he muttered.

  “Oh, Trey…”

  “I’ve been on the run since you disappeared.” He grunted softly, his lips twitching in a wry grin. “Only good news I had was hearing that old man Hollinger got gunned down in a holdup.”

  “Well, I�
��m still glad you didn’t kill him,” she said absently. With a hand that trembled, she removed his kerchief and wiped away the blood, revealing a shallow furrow along his hairline.

  “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” She held up her hand. “How many fingers do you see?”

  “Three.” His gaze moved over her. “Stop worrying about me. Are you all right?” He placed his hand over her belly. “How’s my son?”

  “We’re both fine. Now that you’re here.”

  He slipped his arm around her waist and drew her down until she was resting on his chest. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you.” Cupping his face in her hands, she kissed him exuberantly. “Come on, cowboy, let’s go home.”

  Epilogue

  Five years later

  Amanda stood on the front porch, contentment washing through her as she watched Trey put a young chestnut filly through its paces. Her oldest son, Trey, Jr., nicknamed TJ, sat on the top rail of the corral, her two-year old, Louis, leaned on the bottom rail. Both boys were the spitting image of their father.

  She glanced around the yard. There were four corrals now, where before there had been only one. A dozen hens scratched in the dirt near the barn. Two sheep, a nanny goat, a half dozen cattle, and a shaggy-haired buffalo grazed in the pasture. Under the porch, a cat nursed four newborn kittens. TJ’s dog was digging in the flower bed again. Even as she shook her head in exasperation, she knew she wouldn’t change a thing.

  The last five years had been the best, the happiest, the most fulfilling of her whole life. She had a wonderful husband, two healthy sons, and another baby on the way, a girl this time, the doctor said.

  She had been truly blessed. Together, they had built the ranch Trey had always dreamed of. There were a dozen mares in the barn, all in foal. Horses sired by one of the Long Walker studs were in constant demand. Their top stallion was the get of Relámpago out of a gray Arab mare. To her dismay, Relámpago had disappeared shortly after the colt was born, never to be seen again.