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

by Peggy L Henderson

  Rachel turned, the tears shimmering in her eyes ripping at his heart.

  “Why are you telling me a lie, Jake? Why not just be honest and say you’ve grown tired of me? That it’s time for you to move on.”

  Jake grabbed her arms, and forced her to face him. If someone wrenched a knife into his heart, it couldn’t have hurt more than the look on Rachel’s face. “I don’t want to leave you,” he said forcefully between gritted teeth. “You have to believe me. I come from a time in the future. We don’t travel by wagons anymore. The journey we just finished from Iowa to here takes less than a day by airplane in my time.”

  Rachel scoffed. “Now I know you’re lying. What you’re saying is impossible.”

  “No, it’s not, dammit. Men have walked on the moon. I wanted to give you the kind of life you deserve, where diseases like cholera are treatable. Rachel, I don’t want the last night I have with you to be spent in anger. I love you. You’re all I ever wanted. I begged the reverend to let me stay here if he couldn’t send you to the future. You have to believe me.”

  Jake wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him. His entire body shook. A feeling of helplessness such as he’d never known swept over him. Slowly, Rachel returned his embrace.

  “I love you, Jake.” Her sad tone told him she didn’t believe a word he said. “You promised you’d never leave me, that you’d hold on to me forever.”

  He would rather take a bullet to the chest than hear the pain and disappointment in her tone when she spoke those words. His world spiraled out of control, and he was completely powerless to stop it. All this time, he’d made the assumption that his future was with Rachel, regardless of what century they were in. How could he make her understand?

  “You’ll always be with me, Rachel. Always. I’m sorry I failed you. I know I can’t make you believe that I’m from the future. I just hope you’ll forgive me one day.” Jake pulled her on top of him. He held her tightly to him, as if it would bring her to the future with him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. Was this what a terminally ill person felt? Just waiting for it to end? In his heart, he was already dead.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Jake. Jake, wake up.”

  Jake groaned, and rolled away from the hard jabbing sensation against his ribs. Straw crackled beneath him, and the rich smell of freshly cured hay entered his senses.

  “Rachel?” he mumbled, and slowly opened his eyes. He squinted into the dim light, trying to focus his vision on the figure of a man looming over him. His head spun dizzily, his pulse beating at his temples.

  “Rachel? Is that the name of your latest plaything?”

  Jake jolted fully awake. His brother Tom stood over him, his hands on his hips. A tidal wave of loss and anguish swept over Jake as reality crashed in on him, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He was back in the twenty-first century.

  “Did you spend the night in the barn? Don’t tell me you’re hung over.” Tom’s voice pounded in his head.

  “Leave me the hell alone,” Jake grumbled, and turned to his side.

  Rachel.

  He was back home, just like the reverend said. A sudden thought occurred to him. Why was he home at the ranch? Shouldn’t he be in his jail cell in California?

  “Come on, Jake. Don’t do this again. We have guests arriving for the week. Don’t act all disagreeable with these folks like you did with the last bunch. We had complaints about you.”

  Jake blinked. Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Just to get his brother off his back, he said, “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  “Well you can start by making yourself presentable,” Tom scoffed. “You look like hell.” Boots crunched on the hard-packed dirt, and a barn door echoed open and shut. Jake ran a trembling hand over his face, and pushed himself to a sitting position. Without seeing anything, he glanced around. He sat in a corner of the hay barn at the ranch. Straw littered the ground where he’d lain, and bales of hay were stacked from floor to ceiling behind him. How did he get here? How much time had passed?

  Jake cursed loudly, and slammed his fist into the dirt. He ran his hand over the rough whiskers on his face again.

  “Damn you for what you did, Johnson,” he growled under his breath. His body shook, and his muscles tightened everywhere. He drew his knees up and held his forehead in his palms.

  Rachel.

  She’s where she belongs, Jake. The old man’s voice echoed in his mind. Jake squeezed his eyes shut.

  No, she belongs with me, dammit. She’s supposed to come home to me.

  Jake sat in the stillness of the barn, and his vision blurred. He hadn’t cried since he was ten years old, after his dog died. Someone far more precious was lost to him now. Rachel was long dead in this time. So were the boys. Had she married again? Did she hate him after he disappeared, thinking he had left her? A thousand questions flooded his mind. She hadn’t believed him last night. He didn’t have the will to argue with her, or try and convince her that he was from the future. It didn’t matter anymore. All he could do, all he wanted to do, was hold her for the last time.

  Jake inhaled a deep breath. The scent of lavender filled his senses, and he reached out a hand into the empty air, imagining touching her silky hair. Visions of her flooded his mind; her beautiful smile, her sky blue eyes, the softness of her skin. Had she found happiness? He wished it for her with all his breaking heart.

  The barn door squeaked on its hinges as it opened, and a bright sheen of sunlight streamed through the opening.

  “Jake? You in here? Tom said you was in here. You gotta come see this.”

  Jake recognized the voice of Shorty Stilwell, one of the wranglers at the ranch. He was in no mood to interact with anyone. He knew it couldn’t be avoided.

  “Hey man. You all right? Did someone die?”

  Jake stared up at Shorty’s wide grin. He and the wrangler had been friends for a long time, but right now, Jake simply wanted to punch the silly smile off the guy’s face.

  “Yeah, someone died,” he answered listlessly. He swiped his hand across his face again. He pushed himself fully off the ground, and noticed that he no longer wore buckskins. His denim pants and white t-shirt were stained and dirty as if he’d done a full day’s work on the ranch.

  “Well I got just the thing to cheer you up, Jake.” Shorty pulled his cowboy hat from his head, and ran his hand through his bleach-blonde hair. Sometimes he looked more like a California surf bum than a Montana ranch hand. Apparently ignoring Jake’s words and somber mood, he winked.

  “Come see what just pulled up in front of the guest house.” He whistled through his teeth. Jake stared at him blankly. Not deterred, Shorty practically hopped from one foot to the other. “Little blonde filly in her red convertible mustang. Legs a mile long in them tight jeans and high heels. Whooheee! It’s gonna be a great week at the ranch.” He shook his head, smacking his lips as if he’d just eaten the best meal of his life, and salivated for more.

  Sandra! Jake’s heart pounded against his ribs. An incredible feeling of déjà vu hit him. If this was the week that Sandra showed up at the ranch, then that meant the reverend sent him back to the future long before his run-in with the law. Long before he abandoned his family to run off to the city. Jake clenched his jaw. That’s how the old man successfully made Jake’s troubles disappear.

  “Well, you can have her,” Jake said and started for the barn door. He needed to be alone. He stopped, and turned. Looking Shorty in the eyes, he added, “On second thought, take my advice and stay as far away from that bitch as you can.” Shorty’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened. Jake didn’t wait for a reply. He left the hay barn and headed for the horse corrals up the gravel road. Pulling a halter off one of the hooks on a fencepost, he climbed over the rail, and selected a chestnut gelding from the group of four horses in the corral. He missed his little buckskin mustang mare.

  Stroking the horse’s neck, he slipped the gelding’s head throu
gh the halter. A cool breeze touched Jake’s cheeks, carrying with it the strong scent of lavender. Adrenaline jolted him. Rachel. Jake spun around, hoping beyond hope, willing her to appear in front of him. Instead, a woman in tight blue jeans, and an even tighter wool sweater, and high-heeled boots that should be outlawed on a ranch, stood leaning over the fence. Her ample breasts nearly spilled out from the low-cut sweater she wore. She had one foot propped on the bottom rail of the corral, no doubt giving anyone behind her a tempting view of her rear, just as she was displaying her front to him. It was a posture meant to entice. Her blond waves fluttered in the breeze, and her bright red lips parted in a wide smile.

  “Will you teach me to ride, cowboy?” she asked seductively, and tossed her head. Shorty walked up from behind, making hourglass motions with his hands, and wiggling his eyebrows. His smile grew wider than the barn door. Five months ago, Jake would have acted the same way. Tom headed down the path from the opposite direction, glaring his disapproval at Shorty.

  Jake’s eyes narrowed on Sandra. He led the gelding to the corral gate, and opened it, leading the horse through. Shorty sprang forward and closed the gate behind him. Jake vaulted onto the horse’s bare back. He stared at the woman. She licked her lips in anticipation of his answer, and batted her mascara-laden lashes at him.

  “Sorry, lady. You ain’t my type.”

  Before he nudged the horse into a lope, he caught the astonished wide-eyed disbelief on the faces of his brother and the wrangler. Tom’s jaw nearly dropped to the ground. Jake urged his mount to greater speed as he headed toward the rolling pastures in the distance. A gallop through the hills, the wind blowing against his face, was what he needed, even though he knew he could never outrun the pain that shot through his heart.

  * * *

  Rachel rolled to her side, the springs beneath the soft mattress squeaking like the hinges on a barn door. An odd sense of loneliness overtook her. Her arm reached to the side, only to clutch cold sheets.

  Jake! He was gone. Just like he told her. She sat up in the bed, and threw the covers off. A cold breeze hit her bare skin. Tears stung her eyes, her vision blurred as she glanced around the room. There was no trace, no hint that Jake had ever been here with her. Nothing except . . . Her dress and underclothes lay in a tangled heap on the ground at her feet.

  She quickly pulled her clothes on, and with shaking hands, pinned her hair to the back of her head. She dashed from the room. Perhaps he hadn’t left town yet.

  Why would he suddenly want to leave her? Over the last few months, she never doubted him when he told her he loved her. Could it have all been lies? He’d fulfilled his promise to her to see her safely to Oregon. But why would he marry her if he didn’t plan to stay with her? What about his plans of taking her to Montana? Had he finally grown tired of her?

  His behavior from the night before was puzzling. His odd talk about the reverend, and his strange notion of being from a future time disturbed her. She’d never heard of such a preposterous thing. The idea of traveling two thousand miles in less than a day was too far-fetched to even contemplate. Men on the moon? She almost laughed out loud if she didn’t feel so much like crying.

  Rachel left the boarding house and strode quickly through town until she reached the banks of the Multnomah River. In the distance, several wagons were camped along the shoreline. She hoped to find Mary and Ben Holland, and her nephews. Perhaps Jake was with them this morning. Walking into camp, the aroma of fried bacon and strong coffee filled her nose, and she almost lost her stomach contents. Then she remembered she hadn’t eaten supper last night.

  David waddled to her, and she lifted the toddler to her hips. He smacked a wet kiss against her cheeks, and Rachel hugged him to her. Mary stood bent over the fire, turning the bacon in the skillet.

  “What are you doing here?” Mary looked up from her task, her eyebrows raised.

  “Has Jake been here this morning?” Her heart pounded in her chest. Somehow she already knew the answer. A fresh wave of tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Mary stared at her, and rushed to her side.

  “What happened, Rachel? Did you two have a lover’s quarrel?” She studied Rachel’s face. “He hasn’t been here this morning, but his horse ran off in the middle of the night. Unusual for that animal.”

  “He left,” Rachel said quietly. A heavy weight descended on her shoulders, dragging her down. “He’s gone, Mary.” Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she set David on the ground.

  “What do you mean, he’s gone?” Mary frowned. “That man loves you more than life itself. Unless someone dragged him off against his will, he would never leave you.”

  I’m not leaving you because I want to. I have no control over this.

  “I have to go find the reverend.” Rachel’s head snapped up, and her eyes widened. “Please, I know I’ve imposed on you enough, but could you watch the children until I return?”

  Mary smiled. “I already planned to have the kids with me for most of the day.”

  Rachel half walked, half ran along the banks of the river toward town. Reverend Johnson held the answers. Her mind flooded with countless thoughts. Jake’s odd hairstyle when she’d first met him. His odd speech at times. Montana, a place she’d never heard of. The way Jake knew what to do for cholera, and that he wasn’t afraid of contracting it. His ability to navigate trails no one believed existed. His odd map. Could all of it lead to one thing? Had he been telling her the truth, that he was from the future? It sounded too fantastic to even consider.

  A small log cabin with a wooden cross mounted on the roof stood at the edge of town. With a determined lift of her chin, Rachel headed for the building. She had to have some answers. More importantly, she had to find Jake. She knocked on the door. Several minutes passed, and no one answered. Rachel wrung her hands together in front of her, then knocked again. What if the reverend had disappeared along with her husband? A jolt of panic shot through her.

  “Can I help . . . Miss Rachel Parker, what a surprise.” Reverend Johnson emerged from around the building. Rachel spun away from the cabin door to face him. She expelled a breath of relief. He looked the same as she remembered him in Kannesville. How had he traveled here to Oregon, and arrived ahead of Mr. Miller’s company, looking as fresh as he had in Iowa? For a man of his advanced age, it seemed an impossible journey.

  The journey we just finished from Iowa to here takes less than a day in my time.

  The reverend offered her his hand, and a wide smile. Rachel stared into his unusual light blue eyes.

  “I’m no longer Rachel Parker, Reverend,” she said slowly. “I’m Mrs. Jake Owens now.” She studied the man’s face for a reaction. His smile vanished.

  “He shouldn’t have married you,” the old man said, and ran a hand over his face. “He misunderstood me back in Iowa.” He spoke as if she wasn’t even here.

  “Reverend Johnson.” Rachel’s voice faltered. She cleared her throat. “Do you know where my husband is?”

  The reverend’s clear eyes suddenly turned cloudy. He narrowed his gaze on her. “What has Jake told you?”

  “He said that he was from a time in the future. That he was sent here by you to lead our wagon train. He told me he was once held for murder, and that you would clear his name if he led our train to Oregon.”

  “Jake’s name has been cleared. His life is back on the right path. He learned a lot about himself while he was here.”

  “It’s true then?” Rachel’s eyes widened. Her heart hammered loudly in her ears. “He’s from another time?”

  “Yes, child.” He clasped her hand in between his warm palms. “Jake protected you, watched over you, just like he was instructed to do. I never considered he would fall in love with you.”

  Tears rolled down Rachel’s cheeks. “Please, Reverend. He spoke often of taking me with him, to his home in a place called Montana.”

  The reverend squeezed her hand. “But he didn’t tell you that this place was in the future, did he?” He releas
ed her hand and turned his back. Slowly, he walked up the path leading away from the cabin. Rachel rushed to his side.

  “You have to bring him back, Reverend. Can you do that?”

  He stopped, and faced her. Slowly, he shook his head. Rachel felt as though the ground was about to swallow her up. A small part of her wished that it would.

  She wiped the tears from her face. Lifting her chin, she pleaded, “Then send me to him.”

  An audible sigh escaped the reverend’s mouth. His chest heaved heavily. “It’s not something I can simply do. There has to be a compelling reason for me to send someone to a different time.”

  Rachel stared at the old man. Fresh tears filled her eyes. Inhaling deeply, she said, “Reverend, I have a compelling reason.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jake stepped through the entrance of his family’s ranch home, and followed his nose to the kitchen. His mother stood at the island stove, stirring the contents of a stainless steel pot. His mouth watered. She was making her famous barbeque sauce that would be served tonight with the welcome cookout for the newly arrived city slickers. After five months of rice and beans, dry biscuits and bacon, his mother’s cooking smelled even better than he remembered. He clenched his jaw. He’d eat beans and bacon for the rest of his life if he had to, if he could just have Rachel with him.

  “Jake, you’re home.” His mother smiled hesitantly at him. Her eyes scanned his appearance. “Looks like you’ve been working.”

  “Yeah,” he said, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops of his denims. He studied his mother. He hadn’t seen her in nearly a year, but to her, he hadn’t left at all. The reverend must have made sure his appearance was the same as when he left with Sandra. Absently, he ran his hand through his hair. It was definitely short.

  “Lunch’ll be ready in a half hour.”