"She'll come back…if she can."
Watie glanced at the other men. "A moment alone, gentlemen, if you will be so kind." He waited until they'd gone, then leaned closer to Jake. "She went back through, didn't she?"
"I think…she was going to try. She said she had medicine in her truck she was going to get. Something…to help…"
General Watie glanced at the wound, his face impassive. "And you believed her?"
Jake heard the cynical tone in the General's question. He looked up into Watie's eyes. "Yes," he answered firmly. "I believe her. She will be back."
Watie nodded. "Maybe so, son." He heaved a sigh. "Well, meanwhile, we'll do what we can for it. Some moss to draw the poison, a poultice—"
Jake didn't hear the rest. He was drifting again, the blackness engulfing him, and then he slept.
Chapter Eight
Robin turned her back on the pickup and started down the gravel road. Doubt assailed her. Was she crazy to go back to a time she didn't belong in?
But she did belong. She'd been…alive. More so in that time than here, in her own. Could she possibly hope for a future with Jake? It was too soon for commitments…but wasn't she making the biggest one of all?
Her steps slowed. If she took the medicine back to him, what guarantee was there that, should she want to come back to her time, she'd be able? She may be stuck in Indian Territory of 1864 with no way back, ever.
She couldn't let Jake die. How could she live with herself in either time if that happened?
What if she was misreading his intentions? He seemed – interested – in her. Her heart shrank at the thought of another rejection. She wouldn't be able to handle that. But…that fear might also be keeping her from letting herself fall in love with the kindest, most decent man she'd ever met – in any time. Trusting was so hard.
Yet, he'd trusted her, hadn't he, with much more to lose than she had. He could very well die if she didn't take the antibiotics back to him.
And…another thought, too awful to bear, rose up, refusing to be ignored. What if he died in spite of the antibiotics? She might be trapped in a time that wasn't hers, without the man she'd fallen in love with.
Oh, dear God. She stopped walking as the reality hit her full force. She was in love with Jake already. How could this have happened? The damn magical doorway through time had to have some other influence. There was no other explanation. But…it felt real.
If she lost Jake, the heartache would be very real, she already knew. She'd sworn, after her last romantic fiasco, that she wouldn't jump into anything again. Yet, here she was, in love with Jake Devlin after only twenty-four hours. And worried sick. She began to run. What if she couldn't get back through the portal? What if the medicine doesn't work?
What if Jake doesn't love me? Her mind seized on the question, mocking her, taunting her, throwing it back to her again and again.
He loves me, her heart answered, remembering the way he'd reached to pull the blanket over her, and the gentle touch of his hand on her cheek in the night when he thought she was asleep.
Remember, her heart reminded her, as she thought of the way he'd put himself between her and their attackers. He would have died for her. He still might.
She stopped running, trying to catch her breath. Her side hurt, and she noticed the sky seemed to be darkening more than normal, which probably meant they were in for more snow.
Nothing else had changed, though. Panic gripped her. The road remained graveled and wide, never narrowing in the least as it had before. The trees weren't nearly as thick as they had been a scant half-hour earlier when she'd come this way.
With her heart pounding from fear as much as exertion, Robin looked behind her. She could still barely see the top of the rise that hid her truck. Maybe she hadn't come quite far enough! She couldn't remember. It had all been so gradual before. But now, everything looked the same, unchanged. She held her breath, listening for the far-away sounds of the interstate traffic. She couldn't hear anything, but maybe it was just because there weren't many cars. It was Christmas Eve. Everyone would most likely be at their destinations by now, so late in the afternoon, the day before Christmas.
"Oh, please," she whispered, starting down the road again. "Please."
The wind whipped up, and the first flakes of snow began to fall. She was so close – so close to getting the medicine back to Jake – how could everything go completely wrong? She fought back angry tears of frustration, her throat raw from the cold. It would never do for her to really get sick now – now that Jake was in such need of her medication.
She lifted her chin determinedly. She was going to get it to him. Somehow, someway. And she prayed it would be strong enough to heal him. Christmas was a time for miracles. She needed one right now.
The snow came thicker, and she had to lower her head to walk into the growing storm. In her heart, she knew she couldn't go on much farther. She ran the risk of being caught in the snow and wind out here in these woods, with no houses around. Maybe she should turn back for the truck and try to get through the portal later on. But Jake couldn't do without the medicine that long. And the truth was, she couldn't do without Jake.
A faraway noise penetrated her thoughts. Voices! And the sound of several horses. She had to have come back through the doorway. But, that could spell disaster if she were captured by Yankees. Quickly, she left the road and ran toward the woods a few yards away.
As she slipped behind an oak tree, she turned to see everything changed – the narrow road, the absence of gravel, and a company of Yankees just swinging into view around the curve of the road.
She breathed deeply, relief filling her. All she had to do was stay out of sight until they passed. She backed up slowly into the woods. With darkness coming, she didn't want to get too far from the small road. It was 1864. There would be bobcats in this area, and they wouldn't care that it was Christmas Eve.
The Union contingent rode past where she stood and she let her breath out, unaware she'd been holding it. As the last horseman disappeared around the next bend in the road, Robin slipped out of the trees and hurried back toward the spot where she and Jake had been shot at, where he'd been wounded. Once she got there, she started down the embankment toward the shallow crossing.
The snow fell furiously now, like a solid blanket of white in the air.
She started across the river again, where she and Jake had forded it earlier. Once more, she felt the remembered touch of his hand reach, time and again, to stay her. She was alone now, but not for long. Not for long.
The ice-cold water ran over her boot tops and she slogged through the treacherous footing as she had before. Her heart hammered in anticipation as she inhaled the sweet fragrance of wood smoke.
When she looked up again, she saw three horses ground-pegged near the front entrance of the cave.
"Halt, who goes there?" called a young sentry.
"Robin! Robin Mallory!"
She kept coming, not waiting for his response. He reached a helping hand out to her as she clambered up the slippery bank.
"None too soon, ma'am. Lieutenant Devlin's fading fast."
She swept by him with a hurried thanks, rushing past some of the other men who sat gathered around a larger fire near the front entrance. Barely speaking, she made her way quickly to the back part of the cave.
As she rounded the corner, her heart sank. The look on General Watie's face was unreadable but for the anguish in his dark eyes. Ray sat near Jake, silent, his face like granite. Two other men sat across the small space on the floor.
"Miss Mallory," General Watie said. "I'm…pleased you were able to return to us."
Robin couldn't help but smile at his understated greeting. "I brought medicine." She reached into her pocket and drew out the bottle. "We'll need a cup of water."
"Here, ma'am. I've been trying to dribble it down him," Ray said. "I'm not sure he'll be able to drink from a cup right now."
"Can you get behind him, Ray? Hold
him—"
Ray moved to comply as Robin took two of the antibiotics from the bottle. She wanted to start him off with a double dose to get the medicine into his bloodstream.
"Here, Jake," she murmured.
He opened his eyes, looking at her, confused at first, then relieved. "So much I want to tell you—"
"Later, sweetheart. We'll talk later. I brought your medicine—"
He opened his mouth and she laid one of the pills on his tongue, then lifted the water to his lips. "Don't chew, just swallow it whole."
After he'd swallowed both the pills, Robin moved to sit with her back against the wall, pillowing his head in her lap.
"Robbi—"
"Shh. Don't talk, Jake." I am not going to cry. Not now. I have to be strong for him.
"You came back," he said, ignoring her. "I – knew you would."
She thought of those awful moments, when it seemed as if the doorway to time had been closed again. "I was – so afraid—" Her voice cracked. She bit her lower lip.
"You're here, now. It'll be…all right." He patted her leg awkwardly.
"Yes." She sniffed.
At a look from the general, the others left the room. With a nod, he stood and followed them, leaving Robin and Jake alone.
"It's Christmas Eve…no present…"
Robin smiled. "You are my present—" She broke off, appalled at her own boldness. But at his smile, the shyness left her.
"And you're mine, Robin Mallory. The best gift I could ever receive."
"Get well, Jake."
"Not to worry, stubborn woman. You…won't have it any other way."
Chapter Nine
Christmas morning dawned clear and cold. The gray skies had vanished, but the snow covered the woods like a blanket of soft cotton.
Robin had finally fallen asleep and as Jake's eyes slowly opened, he was aware of the warmth of her body pressed next to his. He didn't move. He wanted to savor the memory of this moment forever. The safety of the cave, the quiet murmurs of his fellow soldiers in the distance, the soft firelight, and the filtering rays of the winter sun through the hole above him cast a soft glow upon Robin's lovely features.
She looked like an angel as she slept. She had been an angel for him – a guardian angel. He remembered the look of determination in her eyes the moment she'd made up her mind to go back after the medicine. She had saved his life. They were even. A wry grin touched his lips. He'd protected her and almost died for it. But her sacrifice might prove to be even greater. What if she wanted to go back and couldn't? It was a miracle she'd been able to get back to him with the medicine. Was there a limit to how many times one could wander back and forth between the centuries?
The thought of settling down on his place was one that had become foremost in his mind over the last few months. Soldiering was something he'd felt was his duty – especially when General Watie had asked for his commitment specifically. He'd had no choice…but he knew enough about himself to understand this involvement with the military was only temporary.
How would Robin feel about staying here? Being a sodbuster's wife was hard work – especially for someone who would be accustomed to the finer things life had to offer – from a century and a half in the future.
Wasn't he getting a little ahead of himself? Frustrated, he felt his muscles tense at the thought. So many ifs – Robin may not want to stay in 1864. And if she did, there was no guarantee she'd want to stay with him. On a farm.
She may already be figuring out the best way to say goodbye; to try and get back to her own time. He couldn't blame her. By her time, there would be so many advancements and fantastical inventions…how could anyone want to go backward?
He gently fingered the softness of her hair, letting his eyes drift closed again. The pain in his leg was better, and the fever had left him. But what difference would it all make if this woman left with his heart? He'd always prided himself on keeping that part of himself closely guarded. But Robin, with her quick smile and dark eyes had taken it from the moment he'd rolled her down the riverbank.
I'll be damned.
You sure will if you don't get off me!
He smiled at the memory, wishing he had the energy to roll across her sweet body right now and see if she still meant to threaten him. Somehow, he didn't think she would. Approaching footsteps sounded, and Jake opened his eyes.
General Watie rounded the corner slowly, coming to stand near where Jake lay. The General knelt beside him, putting two fingers against Jake's forehead. He nodded in satisfaction.
"That's good. No fever."
Jake's lips twisted. "Still hurts like hell, though."
Watie smiled. "It appears the medicine Miss Mallory brought back along with the poultices did their job, Jake." The smile faded. "Now, I'm wondering how this will all end for you."
Jake kept his face impassive. "She'll do…what's right for her, sir. I'm sure of it."
"She can't travel with us, Lieutenant."
Jake's anger surged. "Begging your pardon, sir, but…what the hell – I mean – we're in the middle of nowhere. The nearest settlement of any size is twenty miles south of here."
Watie's eyes narrowed. "I'm well aware of where we are, soldier."
Jake moistened his lips. "We can't just leave her here. Sir. I won't do it."
Watie gave Jake a measuring look, then laid a hand on his arm. "Going back may be the best thing—"
"No! It's not the best…" Jake's words trailed off at the general's piercing gaze.
"She will decide, Lieutenant," he said slowly. "And, we will abide. Understood?"
Jake stared up at him for a moment, then finally nodded. "Yeah. All right."
"I'll take that as a yes, sir, Jacob." Watie's face was inscrutable.
Jake knew he'd pushed the general farther than he would have tolerated from most of his men. "Please accept my apologies, General."
"Of course." Watie pursed his lips. "You need to eat. Do you think you could handle something?"
Jake nodded, though he wasn't hungry in the least. "I'll try, sir. Thank you."
Watie stood. "I'm going to give the Yanks a reprieve today. We'd normally observe a truce on Christmas and I won't breach that. But tomorrow will be a day like any other. That's why it's important Miss Mallory is returned to the safety of her own time, Lieutenant. She…may require some convincing on your part."
Like hell. Jake closed his eyes, shutting away his thoughts, hoping to evade the general's uncanny ability to read his men. There was no way he could make himself push Robin to go back. When he opened his eyes again, Watie stood over him, unmoving, and Jake saw a flicker of pity in his expression.
"Jake—" he broke off. "I'll see if that stew's ready."
"Thank you." Jake watched him walk away, then looked at Robin. Her eyes were open, and he wondered how much she'd heard.
"Feeling better?" she asked, moving out of his loose embrace to sit beside him. She ran her fingers through her hair and smiled at him.
Jake's heart stopped for a moment then thundered in his ears. He was in love with Robin Mallory. How could he bear it if she left? Yet, how could he convince her to stay in a time she didn't belong to?
He nodded. "Thanks to you, Robbi."
Even though she waved a dismissive hand, she looked pleased. "You're strong," she said. "You'd probably have been fine with the poultices and all – even without the antibiotics."
He hesitated. "The medicine isn't what I meant."
She looked down at him, questioningly. "I didn't do anything."
"You came back, honey. Through the door. Through time. You came back to help me."
"I had to. What else could I do, Jake? You were hurt. It's what you do when—" She glanced away.
Was that all there was to it? He watched her closely as she stopped whatever she'd been about to say, choosing different words.
"It's what you do when you care about someone."
"Care…is that what you call it in your time?"
/> She nodded, obviously trying hard to hold her emotions in close rein. "Well, you've been so kind to me…"
He propped himself up on his left elbow, reaching for her with his right hand. Slowly, he wrapped his fingers in her hair and pulled her to him. As his lips touched hers, he felt the way she leaned into him, her hand reaching to cup his cheek. Lightning sizzled through his veins, and he was certain it had nothing to do with her being from a different time. Love was recognizable in any century.
He pulled back from her, searching her eyes, finding what he needed to see. His lips curved upward in a satisfied smile.
"Kindness be damned. I love you, Robin Mallory."
* * * * *
"Oh…Jake," Robin whispered. How she longed for that pledge to be true! This was a dream she would awaken from at some point. That fear kept her from repeating his words back to him.
"What are you afraid of, little one?" Jake brought his hand around to Robin's cheek, his eyes warm with reassurance.
"My own heart," Robin managed to stammer. "And…having you ripped away from me."
It was a hard admission, but she wanted him to know. What was to keep them together here?
"Couldn't that happen anywhere? Any time? There are no guarantees, Robbi – not in love."
"But it's a mistake!"
Jake laughed, leaning back down to the floor. "Ending up in 1864, or falling in love?"
"Both."
"It's no mistake, Robbi. Love will happen, no matter the century."
She met his eyes again, the sincerity in his tone melting her. "I do love you, Jake."
"You wouldn't have come back if you didn't, medicine or no."
"The question is," a voice said from behind them, "what are you going to do about it?"
Chapter Ten
General Watie approached them, carrying two bowls of stew. He stood beside them for a moment before gracefully going to his haunches.
"In case you weren't aware, there's a war going on, of which we are a part." He handed Robin one of the steaming bowls.
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