Swept Through Time - Time Travel Romance Box Set

by Tamara Gill

  Wes spent the rest of the day strolling around town, visiting with the shopkeepers, the presence of the town marshal providing townspeople with a sense of safety. So far—thankfully—Denton hadn’t been a draw for outlaws, most of them hitting the bigger cities north and south. Even though only a few miles west of the Chisholm Trail, Denton didn’t have the problems other cowtowns in Kansas did. When the cowboys came into town, Wes made the rounds of the saloons, chatting with the boys from the trail, letting them know he had his eye on them. Not being the end of the road, most stops were brief before they continued north.

  He was sitting behind his desk, going through the new batch of ‘wanted’ posters he’d just picked up from the post office when the jailhouse door opened and Anna entered. He stood and cursed the swift reaction his body underwent. Dry mouth, thumping heart, and a definite stirring below his belt.

  She paused and smiled. “Is this a bad time?”

  Wes cleared his throat. “No, not at all. Finished for the day?” He waved at the chair in front of him. “Have a seat.”

  He considered the two bright red dots on her cheeks and the hitch in her breathing. Could she be having the same reaction to him? He quickly recoiled from that thought. She was a complete mystery, possibly here for dishonest reasons, and the last thing he needed to add to his already muddled life was a woman, particularly with the lure of this one.

  “So, what do you have?” Anna fussed with her dress, not meeting his gaze.

  Wes opened the desk drawer and withdrew the two objects. Anna drew in a sharp breath and grabbed them, fisting them in her lap. The two red dots spread until her entire face appeared to be on fire.

  ***

  She couldn’t believe it. Of all the things that could have fallen out of her purse and found their way to the marshal, why did it have to be a tampon and her birth control pills?

  “Can I ask you a question?” Wes’s forehead creased, but the mirth in his eyes convinced her he knew his question would annoy her.

  “Sure.” Maybe she could get through this by acting nonchalant, certainly far from how she felt. She fingered the plastic container of pills. If he wanted to know what they were, she sure as hell couldn’t tell him unless she was in the mood to be dragged off to the local preacher to confess her sins.

  Wes nodded toward her lap. “What are they?”

  “What?” She blinked, tilting her head. Maybe using innocence would work.

  “The round disc with pills.”

  “Um. Medicine I take for headaches.”

  “Why are the days noted?”

  “I forget to take them occasionally.”

  “You have a headache every day?” His eyebrows rose to his hairline.

  Apparently innocence wasn’t going to work. Anna stood. “Well, I want to thank you for returning my personal property. Have a nice day.” She turned to leave.

  “Wait a minute.”

  She swung her gaze back to him, and focused on the ‘wanted’ poster sitting on his desk. Her eyes widened and her pulse picked up. Staring back at her was the man from the café scarfing down his breakfast that morning. No wonder he’d looked familiar. She must have seen him on the wall over the post office counter in the mercantile. Quickly, she skimmed the information. A two hundred and fifty dollar reward. Here was her way to make a little bit more money and prove to Wes she could do more than sling hash. If she was going to be stuck here for any length of time, she might as well do something more interesting.

  She brought her attention back to Wes. “What?”

  “You did it again.”

  She tilted her head, questioning.

  “You use strange words, strange sentences. Personal property?”

  Anxious to leave to see if she could track down Benny Coats, a/k/a Big Ben−how original−she needed to leave quickly.

  “Um, it’s from that academy I went to.” She backed away. “See you later.”

  Wes said something lost in the sound of the door closing. Anna hurried away and stopped a few steps from the jailhouse. How in heaven’s name did someone in the eighteen seventies track down an outlaw?

  Well, if Big Ben was still in town, he’d most likely go to the café for his supper. Making an abrupt right turn, she headed back to the restaurant.

  ***

  Although she’d kept vigil all evening, the outlaw never entered the café. Once Flossie had blown out the last oil lamp and hung the ‘closed’ sign, Anna dusted the dirt from the seat of her dress and left the spot where she’d sat behind the blacksmith shop.

  She hurried down the boardwalk, head lowered, deep in thought, when she ran smack into a wall of muscle.

  “Whoa.” Wes captured both of her arms as she slammed into his warm chest. “Where you going in such a hurry?” The moonlight caught his expression as he frowned. “And what are you doing out on the streets this late at night?”

  Anna bristled. “Is there a law against it, marshal?”

  He grinned.

  Why did she always feel like a little girl when she locked horns with this man?

  “No, ma’am. I’m just trying to protect the people of the town. Especially from women who can clobber a fella without raisin’ dust.”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  He held both hands up in surrender, his lips twitching. “Not me.” He cupped her elbow. “Allow me to escort you to the hotel, Miss Devlin.”

  She slanted him a glance. “My, how chivalrous.”

  Slowly, he slid her arm into the crook of his elbow and rested his hand on hers. “Seriously, Anna, you shouldn’t be running around town after dark. Life can be dangerous. You never know . . .”

  Something in his voice made her look sharply at him. The lines bracketing his mouth had tightened, and she could feel the tension in his arm. What secret memories did this man harbor? Or was this merely the male protectiveness of a lawman in the eighteen seventies?

  They strolled along the boardwalk, neither one speaking, but a sense of being in the right place at the right time quietly stole over her. Which was nonsense, of course. This was definitely not the right time, or place.

  Wes positioned his hand on her back as they approached the door of the hotel. “Anna.”

  “What?” She leaned her head back so she could meet his eyes.

  “Don’t be fooled into thinking you can take care of yourself.” He raised his hand and ran his knuckles down her cheek, leaving a trail of fire. One finger slipped under her chin and he eased her head up. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you.”

  Her breath hitched, and after coming to a complete stop, her heart started up again, thundering in her chest. The closeness of their bodies, the dark quiet night, the millions of stars in the sky that she’d never seen in her time, created a cocoon of intimacy. No one else existed, just the two of them, man and woman. A hint of clean cotton, leather and the unique scent that she’d identified as Wes battered her senses.

  She lowered her lashes as his head moved closer and his fingers slid to the back of her neck, tugging her forward. The touch of his lips on hers was quick, soft and warm. He pulled back, the torture in his eyes evident.

  Before she could question him, he touched the brim of his hat. “Good night.”

  Anna brought her clasped hands to her chest and watched Wes disappear into the darkness.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The young girl’s huge brown eyes pleaded with Wes, fear making her breath come in gasps. His commanding officer, Corporal Otis Letterman, had her on the ground, lying between her spread legs. He pushed up her dress as she struggled and pounded him with her fists.

  “Sir, please leave the girl be. Let’s be on our way,” Sergeant Wesley Shannon pleaded.

  “Shut up, Sergeant. I’m having enough trouble with the bitch without you complaining.” Otis grunted when the girl’s fist connected with his eye. He reached into his holster and withdrew his pistol, aiming it at the girl’s head.

  “No!” She and Wes cried out at the
same time.

  Otis leaned into the girl’s face. “If you make one more sound, I’ll kill you.”

  Tears ran down her cheeks, and she bit her lip so hard it bled.

  “Sir, please. Let the girl go.” Wes stepped forward as Otis unhitched his belt with his other hand, the gun still firmly pressed against the girl’s head.

  “If ya try and stop me, Shannon, I’ll put a bullet between her eyes. Now shut up! You can have a turn when I’m done.”

  Wes turned away, bile rising in his throat. He stared at a spot about a hundred feet away, his entire body shaking as he heard the sound of the girl’s whimpering and Otis’s grunting. No sooner had Otis shouted his release than the sound of a gun discharging thundered in the morning air. Wes swung around.

  The girl lay dead on the ground, eyes still open, her dress shoved to her waist. Blood seeped from between her thighs, and the hole in the side of her head.

  Wes bent over and emptied his stomach. When he finished, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and faced Otis. “You said you would kill her if I tried to stop you.”

  Otis fastened the flap of his pants and shrugged. “No witnesses.” He stared at Wes. “Except you.” He re-holstered his gun. “But then you won’t report anything, soldier, or I’ll say you did it.” He slid his boot into the stirrup, and swung his leg over his horse. “Now who do you suppose they’re gonna believe back at the fort? You−or me?”

  ***

  Wes shot up from the pillow, his body drenched in sweat, his heart galloping in his chest. With shaky hands he ran stiff fingers through his hair, then dropped his head into his palms. It had been months since he’d had the dream. And it didn’t take much for him to know who had triggered it. Anna.

  Where did she come from that she thought wandering around by herself in the dark was safe? Sure, her ability to thrash the cowboy saved her that one time, but she’d never get away with it again.

  He tossed the light blanket aside and swung his legs over the edge of his bed. Experience had taught him there would be no more sleep tonight, and most likely he’d spend the day tensing up every time someone walked up behind him.

  Five years. The rape and murder had taken place right as the war had ended. He’d left the army only a couple of weeks after that and had never seen Otis Letterman again. The last he’d heard, the man had been hung for horse thievery. And Wes had paid the price for his silence ever since.

  His head pounded with regret and ‘what if’ questions. He padded to the kitchen and stirred the stove ashes to make coffee. After adding kindling and a block of wood, he watched the flames grow, his thoughts drifting back to the day after the crime, when he’d snuck away from the fort and buried the poor girl. After fixing a rough cross, he’d knelt and prayed, asking for forgiveness, but never receiving any.

  A search for the girl’s family had turned up nothing. Like every other war torn county, they’d most likely scattered.

  With coffee in hand, he wandered to the front porch where he settled on the top step and tried to enjoy the last of the night. Soon, thoughts of the woman who’d entered his life and turned it upside down crowded out the uncomfortable ones from the dream. He couldn’t afford to get too close to her. Decent women, the type you courted, married, and had a family with were not for him. He didn’t deserve to even touch one, and should never have kissed Anna last night.

  Once again, he dwelled on the mystery surrounding the woman. Her unusual arrival, strange way of speaking and dressing, the things she’d quickly snatched back from him yesterday, obviously embarrassed. What did it all mean?

  He sipped his coffee.

  And where the hell is Tulsa?

  ***

  All through the morning, Anna kept her eyes glued to the front door of the café, waiting for Big Ben to show up again. The breakfast rush was almost over when he entered, looked quickly around, and headed to the same table in the corner.

  Her heart sped up. So he was still in town. She approached him with a smile on her face. “Good morning.”

  The man grunted.

  “Coffee?”

  He nodded. Anna filled the cup sitting on the table. It had taken her a while to accept filling a cup that another diner had used without first washing it. “Breakfast?”

  “Flapjacks.” His abrasive voice dismissed her.

  Anna hurried away. She needed to leave the restaurant when he did so she could follow him. What excuse could she give Flossie?

  She chewed on her dilemma until Big Ben rose and threw a few coins on the table. Whipping off her apron, she tossed it over the counter and shouted to Flossie. “I need a break. Be back in a little while.”

  “What?” The woman responded from the kitchen. “You git your fanny back in here, or don’t come back.”

  “Sorry. An emergency.” She slipped through the door as Big Ben crossed the street, seeming oblivious to his surroundings. Anna followed him for a few minutes. He lumbered along, ignoring everyone and everything he passed.

  He soon led her to the outskirts of town, where houses and businesses stretched further apart. Could he be staying out here in some type of shack?

  Almost before she caught it, he’d ducked behind the side of a building. She leaned against the front of the building, and looked around the corner. He continued on, not glancing left or right. After a few steps, he turned the corner again, and she hurried after him.

  An arm snaked out from a doorway and wrapped around her neck, pulling her forward. “Why the hell you followin’ me, girlie?” Big Ben cupped her face and shoved her against the building, banging her head so hard she saw stars. The stench from his mouth made her turn her face.

  “I’m not following you.”

  He shoved her head again, tightening his grip on her neck, cutting off a good portion of her air. A long knife appeared in his other hand that he rested against the skin under her jawline. “Yeah, you are. I want to know why.”

  She gulped, unable to get enough air to speak.

  “You lookin’ for a little action?” He shoved his pelvis at her.

  Her stomach churned. She tried to turn her face away to no avail.

  “Well maybe I am.” He grinned, his broken stained teeth tightening her stomach further. Once more he pushed his hips at her, grinding against her until Anna was sure she would vomit all over him. Maybe not a bad idea if that would make him release her.

  All her training fled as the monster brought his mouth closer to hers. When she attempted to bring her knee up, he pressed the knife to her skin. The sticky warmth of blood trickled down her neck.

  Big Ben leered, then licked his large, crusty lips. “I heard all about yore fight in the saloon, girlie. You ain’t gettin’ near my cock.”

  Anna closed her eyes seconds before the click of a gun hammer broke the silence.

  “Drop the knife, Coates, and back away−real slow.” Relief flooded her at Wes’s deep voice.

  “Suppose I kill her first, marshal?” Ben spat out the side of his mouth.

  “I’ll put a bullet in your head before you go two inches. Put the knife down. Now.”

  Big Ben pushed harder on her neck with his fingers, then dropped the knife and spun, smacking his hand against Wes’s gun. It went flying, bouncing along the prairie dirt.

  As Anna slid to the ground, gasping for breath, Wes knocked Ben to the dirt with a blow to his stomach, followed by another under his chin. The outlaw shook his head and rolled, coming up fast, another knife he’d seized from inside his boot flashing at Wes’s midsection.

  Wes jumped back, the knife barely missing him. They circled each other like two animals, Ben’s knife blade catching the sunlight as he lunged forward and side to side.

  Anna scrambled to her feet and leapt for the gun. Ben had Wes backed against the wall, the knife pointed at his chest. She knelt in the dirt, arms straight out, then pulled the trigger, hitting Ben squarely in the back. The man’s head snapped back as the bullet slammed into him, then he crumbled to the ground.

>   Wes bent over, his hands braced on his thighs, breathing deeply. Anna slowly stood and walked to him on shaky legs. He straightened and grabbed her, hugging her close, crushing her to his chest. His entire body shook, and he tightened his grip until she thought he’d snap her ribs. “My God, he almost raped you.”

  She didn’t answer, just continued to hold him. When the shaking didn’t stop, she pulled back and peered into his face. He was ash white, his pupils dilated.

  “Wes? What’s wrong? It’s over, I’m fine.”

  He released her and walked away, his head down, hands on his hips. Anna’s fingertips traced the dried blood under her chin. Now that the excitement was over, the slight cut stung, and her head pounded.

  She stepped to his side and he jumped when she touched his shoulder. “We need to get the body moved.”

  Wes sucked in a deep breath and turned. Although he smiled, his body coiled like a spring, and lines bracketed his mouth. He nodded. “I’ll send the undertaker for him.”

  Anna easily picked up on his tension. This was more than a normal reaction to what had just happened. There was so much pain in Wes’s eyes, she felt the need to offer comfort. She rested her hand lightly on his arm. “Can you talk about it?”

  “What?”

  “Your reaction to this.” She waved her hand toward the man sprawled on the ground.

  “It’s nothing.” He took her by the hand, twining their fingers together. “Come on, I have to fill out paperwork. I’d feel better if you go along with me to the jailhouse.”

  Not wanting to leave him in his present state, she went with him. He clutched her hand the entire walk to the undertaker, and then on to his office.

  ***

  Wes’s heart had finally settled into a normal rhythm, and now his body felt sluggish, exhausted. He had every intention of chewing Anna out about her reckless behavior, but right now he needed to think of a reasonable explanation for the way he’d fallen apart. She’d given him curious glances since they’d left Ben’s body growing cold and stiff on the ground behind the abandoned building.