“Was I too rough?”
She smiled back at him. “You were perfect. Better than perfect.”
“Good.”
After a bit, he added, “This all seems so unfair to you, Rayanne. You deserve better than a man who can’t always be there for you.”
The sadness in his words hurt to hear. She rolled over to face him. “Believe me, Wyatt, if that had been any more real, I don’t think I would’ve survived it.”
“Thank you for that.” He kissed her again, softly this time, offering her comfort rather than passion. “But I can’t help but feel that we’re running out of time. The day is almost upon us.”
A fact that was never far from her mind. Now probably wasn’t the best time to push him for answers, but he was the one who’d brought the subject up. She decided to ask, anyway.
“Wyatt, will you tell me what happened that day in Blessing?”
Chapter 15
He’d known this moment had been barreling toward them as much as he’d really prefer to avoid it altogether. But if anyone deserved to know the true story of Wyatt McCain, it was the woman who’d made him feel more alive than he’d been even in his own time.
“Let’s get dressed first.”
As if clothes would do anything to protect him from the acid-hot pain of the worst day of his life. At least the few minutes required to fasten his pants and button his shirt would give him a chance to pull together his scattered thoughts.
Rayanne quietly slipped back into her shirt and those ridiculous shorts and then went out on the porch to wait for him on the bench. When he joined her outside, she held out his hat. Rather than put it on, he sat down beside her and held it in his lap.
The damn thing had been pretty expensive back in the day, but now it looked as worn and tattered as he felt. There was no way to pretty the story up, to make himself out to be anything better than the gun-for-hire he’d been. The best he could hope for was that Rayanne wouldn’t hate herself for consorting with the likes of him.
When he didn’t immediately launch into the story, she scooted closer, pressing her body next to his. He put his arm around her shoulders, needing her touch to anchor him in this world.
As the silence stretched on, she started to move away. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.”
He caught her and pulled her back to his side. “No, you’re wrong, Rayanne. You have every right to know, but it’s going to change how you feel about me. I did a lot of things that I’m not proud of, but that day was the worst.”
She stared across at the old church, reminding him that she’d once had a clear view of the beginning of the events that had condemned him to this existence.
“Wyatt, I know something went horribly wrong that day. I also know that you’ve spent over a century trying to figure out how to fix it.”
She leaned back against his shoulder and tugged one of his hands over into her lap. “I want to help you so maybe you’ll finally know some peace. Maybe we both will. The memory of that day has haunted me for fifteen years. I can’t imagine living with it as long as you have.”
“It should never have been your burden to bear, Rayanne, and I’m right sorry you got pulled into my world like this.”
He sat in silence for a few seconds. “What makes you think you can change the outcome? What can you do what I’ve never been able to do for myself?”
His sharp words made her flinch, but she held her ground. “I don’t know, but I know we’ve got to try. You need to move on, and I need to get on with my life. Besides, I was up there that day and saw what happened. When I shouted to warn you about the shooter in the belfry, you shot him. Did that ever happen before that day?”
“No, and it hasn’t happened again since. Other than that one time, he shoots me in the shoulder.”
The remembered pain of that rifle shot tearing into his body had him rubbing the old wound with his free hand. “What are you thinking?”
“And no one else has ever seen you as clearly or as often as I have. I’ve read the journals that Uncle Ray left me. He knew you were here, and so did Amanda and Aunt Hattie, but none of them saw you as often as I have.”
“That’s right.”
She patted him on the leg. “You’ve never been real like this since that day, either.”
All right, he could follow the trail she was laying out. “No, I haven’t, which means you’re the reason things are changing for me.”
“What do you think it means, Wyatt?”
“I wish I knew.” He stared down the street, seeing it as it had been all those years ago. “I’ll start at the beginning and try to tell you everything. If it gets to be too much, say so and we’ll stop.”
His throat was dry, making it hard to get the words out. “There was only one thing I was ever good at and that was shooting. Ma always said I was born restless. My pa wanted me to be a churchgoing dirt farmer like him, but my younger brother Thad was better suited to that life. I rode out one night after we’d had another fight on the subject and never looked back.”
Rayanne looked shocked. “You never wanted to see your family again?”
“It was the other way around. I rode through there a couple of years later. By then, I already had a reputation as a troublemaker with a talent for guns. When I stopped at the farm, I made a point of sharing some of my adventures with Thad. Pa cornered me with his rifle and yelled at me for filling the boy’s head with sinful thoughts. Then he said I was straight on the road headed to hell, and that he’d give me just one chance to turn my back on Satan. If I left this time, not to bother coming back because he had no use for fornicators and drunkards.”
Even after all these years, he could still hear the cold fury in his father’s voice. He’d sounded like one of those old prophets in the Bible, preaching at him about hellfire and brimstone. Sometimes he wondered where he would’ve ended up if he’d made a different decision that night.
Rayanne sat up straight, her outrage obvious. “What kind of idiotic father would say something like that to his son?”
He loved that she would leap to his defense, but his father hadn’t been wrong. “He was protecting Thad and my ma from the likes of me. He was right about me being nothing but trouble. After all, look where I ended up.”
She would have none of it. “And maybe you wouldn’t have if your family had reached out instead of turning their back on you. I’m the first to admit that my parents drive me crazy, but I’ve never doubted that they loved me.”
Right now, Rayanne was upset because she thought he’d been mistreated. That was bound to change as the rest of his story unfurled, and he hated that. He needed to be up and moving, even though no matter how fast he walked or how far he went, he’d never figured out how to outdistance his past.
“Mind if we walk?”
He didn’t wait for her to answer but immediately stepped off the porch and headed down the street. With the sun beating down, the day had grown uncomfortably warm. Not that he was complaining. If he could feel the heat, it meant he was still real. He stripped off his duster and tossed it on the railing outside of the mercantile. That still wasn’t enough, so he rolled up his sleeves.
The sun wasn’t the only source of heat right then. Rayanne stood close by staring at his arms with the same expression in her eyes that she’d had right before he’d taken her back there on the saloon floor. What had he done to fan that particular fire?
He retreated a step, not sure how to respond. “Rayanne?”
She slowly grinned. “Sorry, my mind went off track there for a minute. Just so you know, women love the look of strong forearms with rolled-up sleeves. At least this woman does.”
He wasn’t used to how outspoken modern women had become, but he liked it. “Anything else I should know about?”
Rayanne h
ooked her arm through his. “Well, that duster is pretty hot.”
“I know. That’s why I took it off.”
Something about what he’d said set off a fit of the giggles. Then she apologized. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed, but we’re talking about two different kinds of hot here. There’s the sun,” she said, pointing to the sky. “And then there’s the kind of hot caused when a man rolls up his sleeves or wears a piece of clothing a woman thinks is sexy.”
Well, all right, then. “And you think my old duster is sexy?”
“Don’t look at me like I’m crazy. There’s a reason so many men on the covers of romance stories set in the Old West are wearing coats just like yours.”
“So if the books were meant to appeal to me, the woman on the cover would be wearing those shorts?”
Now she was blushing, probably remembering how easy it had been for him to get her out of them. “Maybe we should take that walk you mentioned.”
That quickly, his good mood disappeared. He let her tug him along in the direction of the creek. It would be cooler in the shade of the trees, and for the first time in more than a hundred years, he was actually thirsty.
As they walked along, he kept watch for the others who’d intruded on Rayanne’s dream. It occurred to him that he’d forgotten something. “I just realized this is the day I promised I’d take you to the meadow that your uncle liked. There’s still time if you want to go.”
She considered the suggestion. “Would you mind? How are you feeling?”
Did she think he was weak? “I’m fine, other than I’d like a drink of water. I’ll tell you the rest of my story on the way back.”
“We’ll get some drinks at the cabin.” She gave him a puzzled look. “So if you’re feeling thirsty, are you hungry, too?”
It hadn’t even occurred to him to wonder about it. “Come to think of it, I am.”
How odd to be feeling so human again. “I don’t know how long this is going to last, but I’d love an apple—and some of those cookies you keep hidden in the top shelf of the cabinet.”
“It’s a deal.”
* * *
They were in and out of the cabin in a matter of minutes. She really wanted to honor Uncle Ray on his birthday, but it was tempting to put the whole thing off to take advantage of this time with Wyatt while he was solidly in this world. In fact, she’d like to take advantage of Wyatt period, especially with a repeat performance of the time they’d spent on the saloon floor. But as long as he was willing to share his story, she sensed it was important for her to hear it. He obviously worried what she’d think of him once she knew the truth, but she wouldn’t judge him for mistakes he’d made decades before she’d even been born. She loved the man he was now.
She was following behind him on the narrow trail, enjoying the opportunity to watch him move with his usual powerful grace. Oh, yeah, when they got back, maybe she’d coax him into spending the night with her. Perhaps starting off in that big, claw-foot tub.
What did gunslingers think about taking a bubble bath by candlelight?
He happened to look back right then, looking as if he were about to speak. Something of what she was thinking must have been right there for him to see. Without a word, he tugged her close enough to press a kiss on her mouth, one filled with promise and just a hint of heat.
“We turn off this trail just ahead. From there on, I’ll mark the way to make sure you can find your way back.”
Why would he do that? “Won’t you be with me?”
“Yes, but it’s better to be safe. We don’t know how all of this works, and I don’t want to take a chance on you getting lost on the mountain because I’m not around to show you the way back.”
“Good thinking.”
His reasoning made sense; that didn’t mean she liked the possibility of him disappearing. If that was in the cards, she would’ve thought it would have happened after they made love, not when they were simply taking a long walk. She’d fed him an apple, a sizeable ham and cheese sandwich, and a handful of those cookies he’d mentioned. Maybe that would keep him fueled until they returned to the cabin.
“How much farther?”
He pointed ahead. “Just past that pair of rocks up ahead.”
When they got past the trees, her breath caught in her chest. The vista in front of her was simply beautiful. A small stream cascaded down the side of the mountain, and the sun made sparkling rainbows in the mist coming off the water. A few late-blooming lavender-and-white columbine were scattered throughout the grass. In a word, it was perfect.
“I can see why Uncle Ray loved this spot.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and the words came out in a whisper. Wyatt’s strong arm supported her as they made their way to a rocky outcropping that overlooked the small waterfall.
His voice was a deep rumble, the vista clearly affecting him, too. “I think your uncle came here whenever he needed to find some peace. I would watch from the woods as he stood right here, gazing at the water tumbling down. The first few times I thought he was considering jumping, but then I realized he found the sound soothing. After a while, he’d walk away looking as if he’d left a burden behind.”
Grief clogged Rayanne’s throat. “The war changed Uncle Ray. My mother said it was like the man she knew never really came home.”
She let the silence settle over her, seeking the same comfort Uncle Ray had taken from the beauty of the mountain. In truth, though, her real comfort came from the solid presence of the man standing beside her.
It was time to say goodbye to Ray, and so she did.
* * *
On the way back to the cabin, Wyatt started talking. Maybe he wanted to distract her. Maybe he just needed to get his story told. Either way, she held his hand and listened.
“You know that Blessing grew up around the mine. Anytime there’s gold or silver involved, there’s going to be trouble. Every so often, a group of hard cases would ride into Blessing and start raising hell. Most of the time, they’d drink, gamble, and...um, visit with the two ladies who worked upstairs at the saloon.”
He shot her a quick look before adding that last part. Did he really think that would shock her? She grinned at him. “Wyatt, I’m a history professor who specializes in the American West. I’m familiar with the kind of work those ladies did. I also know there weren’t that many choices for a woman to make a living, especially in remote areas.”
He squeezed her hand. “That’s true. They had a hard time of it, but Molly and Tennessee Sue were nice women.”
“I believe that.”
“Right before I came to town, the mining office had been robbed a couple of times.”
The trail narrowed down, forcing them to walk single file. Wyatt started talking again as soon as they could walk side by side once more. “I rode with one of those gangs. I did my share of drinking and carousing in the saloon, but I didn’t go after the gold.”
Wyatt glanced down at her. “Don’t go thinking that it was because I was too honest to steal from the fine people of Blessing. I probably would’ve been in the thick of it if I hadn’t fallen down and broken my leg the night before the last robbery. One of the men got mad over losing at poker and was about to take his temper out on Molly. I charged up the stairs to stop him, but lost my footing and we both fell. The bastard was so drunk, he walked away without a scratch.”
She noticed that Wyatt was rubbing his thigh as if it still ached. “Molly made them carry me down to your great-great-grandmother’s place on a plank. A couple of those old miners sat on me while Amanda set my leg.”
“So that’s how you got to know her.”
“Yes. Amanda was a decent woman, with all that meant back then. Her first husband died in the mine, leaving her a widow with a young son to raise on her own. She earned her living teaching the childre
n in town how to read and write, but it was summer so school was out. She also occasionally took in boarders, so she agreed to let me stay until my leg healed.”
He drifted off into a few seconds of silence. “I was pretty much confined to bed for a couple of weeks before I was strong enough to get around on crutches. Her boy Billy kept me company playing checkers. I was also teaching him how to play chess. He was a quick learner. Good-natured, too. He didn’t complain overly much about having to wait on me when he could have been out playing with his friends.”
Wyatt smiled. “He tried to talk me into teaching him how to play poker. His ma threatened to tan both our hides if we even thought about sneaking a deck of cards into her house.”
Rayanne was relieved to see that not all of Wyatt’s memories of Blessing were bad ones. How weird was it, though, to be feeling jealous of her own ancestor? It was obvious that Wyatt had liked Amanda. Had they been more than friends? After all, Amanda had been a widow with a handsome man living under her roof.
“When my leg healed, I found myself reluctant to leave town. I owed Amanda and the others for taking care of me. If they hadn’t, I could’ve ended up dead or crippled. I figured I could pay Amanda and her son back by doing odd jobs around the house. Chopping wood, mending the roof, weeding her garden and the like. I even did some hunting. People get right friendly when you bring back a deer and are willing to share.”
He stopped to stare up at the sun. “Funny, they were the same damn chores that I hated doing around my parents’ farm, but it felt good being useful. I didn’t drink or smoke from the night I broke my leg right up until that last day.”
They were almost back to the cabin, but he seemed reluctant to resume their walk.
“Three months went by. My leg was pretty much back to normal, but I wasn’t in any hurry to leave. For the first time since I’d ridden away from the family farm, I was content to stay in one place. People started treating me like I belonged here, like I was one of them. Then one of the men I’d been riding with came back through town. He spotted me and stopped to talk.”
Immortal Cowboy Page 16
