Swept Through Time - Time Travel Romance Box Set

by Tamara Gill

  “Um, Wes.” Anna drew circles on his chest. “What if I got a job−”

  “No. We’ve been through this.”

  “Wait.” She sat up, tucking the sheet under her arms. Wes slowly drew it down, revealing her plump breasts with a slight rash from his stubble. He reached for her.

  “Don’t distract me.” Anna pulled the sheet up.

  Wes flipped to his back and folded his hands together behind his head. “All right, I’ll stare at the ceiling. That’s the only way I can keep from distracting you.”

  “Actually, I do have a job.”

  He glared at her, all thoughts of her lush body fleeing his mind. “I told you−”

  “No. Listen.” She leaned forward. “My job won’t reflect on you in any way. I’ll be writing a column for the newspaper, but I’m not using my name, so no one will know it’s me.” She sat back, a look of satisfaction on her face.

  “You really want to do this, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do. I’m not happy sitting around pretending I like to sew. I’m trying my best to do chores that to my way of thinking should be done by machines.”

  Wes rubbed his thumb over her tightly fisted knuckles. “Tell me a little bit about this time of yours. Are things really so bad that women have to leave their homes to work and fight in wars?”

  Anna drew her knees up and rested her chin there. “It’s not like that. I mean, a lot of women do have to work, but most women work because they want to.”

  “What about their husbands?”

  “Women don’t marry as young as they do now. They go to college, and have careers. Then, when they’re older they get married. In most cases, both the husband and wife work.”

  “I see a problem with that.”

  She tilted her head questioningly.

  “Marriage usually leads to children, and if everyone is working, who takes care of them?”

  “Day care. It’s a place you bring your young children each day to be taken care of.”

  Wes shook his head. Life in her time seemed confusing−and difficult. Especially for women. “Do you miss it?” The words were out before he thought about it. Did he really want to know?

  Anna stared off into the distance. “Sometimes.”

  Relief flooded him. At least she didn’t indicate such a longing for her time that she would continue to find a way back.

  “If you were able to go back, would you?” Why did he keep asking questions he didn’t want the answers to? He held his breath as she studied him for a minute, a slight smile gracing her lips.

  “Only if you could come, too.”

  He studied her for a minute. “Why?” The question sounded gruffer than he’d intended, all of his emotions and fears laid on the line.

  “Because I love you, and can’t imagine my life without you in it.” Her eyes filled with tears, her lips trembled.

  In one forward motion, he drew her into his arms. “And I love you, Mrs. Shannon. More than I could ever tell you.” He brought her mouth to his, all the love in his heart in one burning kiss.

  ***

  Anna put the plate of scrambled eggs in front of Wes, along with toast. Thank goodness for the bakery or they’d never have bread.

  He took a whiff. “This smells good.”

  She wiped her forehead with the back of her arm. “I think I’m getting better.” She sat across from him and sipped her coffee. “But I sure miss my microwave.”

  At his raised eyebrows, she continued, “It’s a type of cooking machine. You can prepare meals in it, but most people use it for heating up leftovers or making popcorn.” She forked eggs into her mouth. “Hmm. Not bad.”

  They ate in silence for a while. “So tell me more about this job of yours.” Wes shoved his empty plate aside, and eyed her half-eaten breakfast.

  She slid her plate over to him. “You can have this, I’m finished.” No doubt she’d better start thinking about bigger portions.

  After pouring more coffee into her cup, she rested her elbows on the table. “I’m going to write a column every day. But, as I mentioned before, Mr. Penders, the editor−sorry, senior editor−will use my middle and maiden names. So I’ll be writing under Kay Devlin. That way I figure no one will know it’s me, and you can keep your male pride intact.”

  Wes grinned. “‘Male pride,’ huh? That one of your modern sayings?”

  “If you’ve never heard it, then yeah, I guess it is.”

  “What are you going to write about?”

  “Well . . . I already gave him an article he was going to print last night.” She jumped up. “Oh, that reminds me, I never got a copy of the paper.”

  “There will be a copy at the jailhouse. I’ll bring it home.” He balanced on the back legs of his chair and crossed his arms. “Can’t wait to see your name in print?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. I’d like to see my name in print.”

  The chair slammed down as he leaned toward her. “Just one thing. I want you to promise me you’ll put whatever money you make aside. I don’t want you buying the things I should be paying for.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it at the look on his face. “Fine,” she sniffed. “But you’re so old-fashioned.” Then she cast him a grin. “Wait until you read my article on women’s rights.”

  Wes groaned and reached for his hat before brushing her cheek with a kiss and heading to the door. “I’ll see you tonight.” He pointed at her. “Stay out of trouble.”

  ***

  Although Anna had scoffed at The Book mentioning the list of daily and weekly chores for the diligent nineteenth century housewife, she did find doing a little bit each day helped. After dusting her parlor and mopping the kitchen floor, she changed into a clean dress and headed to the newspaper to drop off the column she’d sweated over that morning.

  Another hot day in the Kansas prairie. What she wouldn’t give for a pair of shorts and a tank top. That would certainly scandalize the town, and sure wouldn’t fit in with Wes’s order to stay out of trouble.

  The tinny bell sounded as she entered the newspaper office. Mr. Penders sat behind his desk, again writing furiously. If her history was correct, a typewriter would be available in just a few more years. Something to remember if this newspaper job worked out.

  “Well, hello, Mrs. Shannon.” Mr. Penders laid his pen down and flexed his fingers. “Did you bring today’s column?”

  She drew the sheets of paper from her reticule and handed them over. “Yes. It’s a continuation of what I wrote yesterday.”

  “Good, good.” He adjusted his eyeglasses and held the paper next to the oil lamp on his desk. He waved at the chair. “Have a seat.”

  The senior editor’s lips moved from a thin line to a huge grin as he finished the piece. “I was right, Mrs. Shannon, you are a troublemaker. How does your husband deal with you?”

  “My husband finds me . . . interesting.”

  “I give him a lot of credit. You don’t generally find such forward thinking men out here in the west.” He reached behind him and grabbed a newspaper from a shelf. “Here’s last night’s edition. I’m not sure you saw it.”

  Anna took it and flipped it open. “No. I was busy last night.” She resisted the urge to fan her flaming face in memory of what had kept her and Wes busy the night before. And again this morning. My, my, he can keep me occupied. Who needed television?

  After enjoying the thrill of seeing her name at the head of the column, she folded the paper and rose. “Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Penders. I’ll drop another piece off tomorrow.”

  He rose. “I look forward to it.”

  Light steps took her from the newspaper office to the jailhouse. The cool dimness felt good as she closed the door behind her. Wes sat behind his desk while a rough voice sounded from the jail cell a few steps away.

  “Honey, I don’t think you should be here while I have him in custody.” Wes gestured with his thumb toward the scruffy man shouting curse words from behind the ba
rs.

  “Come right over here, little lady, and I’ll give ya a kiss. Hell, more’n a kiss. I’ll give ya a diddling−”

  “Shut your filthy mouth.” Wes stood and shoved his chair back. “If you can’t keep that trap shut, I’ll gag you.” He turned to Anna and cupped her elbow. “Come on, I could use a break. I’ll walk you home.”

  “What about him?”

  “He’ll be all right for a few minutes. He’s not going anywhere.”

  “That’s what you think, marshal. Once my daddy and brother come for me, you’ll be dead with yore face blowed away, and I’ll be riding away. Laughing my ass off.”

  Anna shivered. “Bastard.”

  “Whoa, marshal, your little lady ain’t a lady, now, is she?”

  Wes’s jaw worked as he pushed her out the door, and slammed it behind him. “Do me a favor, and stay away from the jailhouse until he’s moved to wherever it is they’re going to hang him.”

  “I’ve dealt with criminals before, but there something really sinister about that one.” Anna rubbed her palms up and down her arms.

  Wes tugged her close. “He’ll be gone soon. The circuit judge should be around next week. I’d like to get the other two before he comes. Get rid of them all at once.”

  “Do you still think they’ll try to break him out?”

  “No doubt in my mind. Buck Mather is not going to let his son hang. From what I hear, he’s no great father, but no one crosses him without paying.”

  They reached the front door, and Anna turned to him. “Be careful, Wes.”

  “Always.” He bent and kissed her lightly on the lips. “There’s more where that came from.” He winked and hurried down the steps, whistling a nameless tune.

  ***

  Anna eyed her reflection in the mirror, chastising herself for acting like a schoolgirl. She felt giddy at the thought of Wes coming home in a short while. After a refreshingly cool bath, she dressed in a clean dress and was now combing the tangles from her hair. She’d managed to put together a dinner of beans and dried beef, her most successful effort so far. A small bouquet of wild flowers decorated the dinner table. If only she could get her hands on a bottle of wine.

  She moved from the mirror to the dresser and fished through her drawer for a ribbon to tie her hair back. The sound of the front door opening brought a smile to her lips. “I’m in the bedroom, Wes, I’ll be right out.”

  Humming softly, she pulled out a long yellow strip, but before she could reach behind her, a rough hand clamped around her mouth the same time an iron arm wrapped around her middle. Anna tried to bite a fat finger, then stomped down on the boot wedged between her feet.

  A grunt from the person behind her turned into a growl in her ear. “I got a real sharp knife in my pocket, Miz Shannon. If you make a noise, or try to injure me again, I’ll slit that pretty throat of yours the marshal likes so much.”

  Horror seeped through her at an older version of the voice she’d heard in the jailhouse.

  “Git over here, boy.” The man, who must have been Buck Mather, spoke to someone else in the room. “Tie her arms behind her back, and make it quick.”

  Still unable to see what was going on behind her, she pulled and tugged until Buck let go of her mouth and yanked on her hair hard enough to drag her backward almost to the ground. Tears sprang to her eyes at the pain from her scalp.

  “I warned ya.” Within seconds, he had a knife pressed up against her throat. “Git up.”

  Stretching her neck to avoid the blade, she rose, then her arms were jerked together and a rough piece of rope twisted around her joined hands and pulled tightly. Next they stuffed a dirty rag into her mouth and tied another one around it. The stench from the cloth almost made her vomit.

  “Take that wedding ring off her finger, boy.”

  She shook her head furiously, and tried to pull away.

  He spun her around so she faced him. The fear she felt was nothing compared to the shot of terror racing through her at the two men who stood in front of her. An older man, the one whose picture she’d seen on the ‘wanted’ poster from Wes’s desk, and a baby-faced young man, the dead eyes of a cold blooded killer peering at her.

  “Either we take that ring to leave as a souvenir for the marshal, or I cut the finger off and leave them both. You decide, little lady.”

  The young man tugged her ring off and handed it to his father.

  Buck laid a torn piece of brown paper on the table next to the wildflowers and placed the ring on top. “Let’s go.”

  They pushed her toward the back door and down the steps. From this view, no one on the street could see them. With a strength that belied his frame, the young boy hoisted her up on a horse and jumped up behind her. He snapped the reins and they took off through the brush behind the house.

  ***

  Wes opened the front door and his belly rumbled at the scent of something bubbling on the stove. The table was set with dishes, a small jar of flowers in the center. “Anna?”

  He hung his hat on a hook over the shelf alongside the door as the sunlight glistening off something on the table caught his eye. Curious, he walked over and picked up Anna’s wedding ring. He fingered it while he read the note under it, his brow breaking into a sweat as he read the words.

  You knowed where the cabyn is, lawman. Come git yore wife. And bring my boy with ya.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Only sheer determination kept Anna upright and not succumbing to the overwhelming urge to sleep. They’d been riding for hours, the bandits obviously not concerned about their horse carrying two people. Her fear had turned to anger, and then to crushing grief at what would surely end in either her or Wes being killed. Possibly both. But she dared not cry, or her nose would stop up and with the rag stuffed into her mouth, she’d probably suffocate.

  Buck filled the monotonous hours relating stories of how he planned to torture and then kill Wes when he came to rescue her. The man was an animal. He joked with his son about taking turns raping her while Wes watched. She fought to control her terror, afraid for herself, afraid for Wes.

  It was near dawn, and they’d stopped only once to let the horses drink. Although she’d grunted and pointed to the creek and her mouth, they left the gag on. Her mouth was so dry it felt like her entire body had shriveled up around it.

  They broke through the woods and entered the town she remembered from her trip with Wes a few weeks ago. In the gray dawn no one appeared on the street, the stores securely locked up. Based on her prior visit, she doubted anyone would come to her rescue even if they saw her bound hands and the gag in her mouth.

  About a half hour after they passed through, the men turned their horses toward a small cabin set back from the road, surrounded by more woods. Noah jumped from his horse and gripped her arm, pulling her down. She stumbled, her legs unable to hold her weight. Buck seized her other arm, and between the two of them, they dragged her to a door that hung on one hinge, then shoved her into the room.

  She went flying across the floor, landing on her knees. Pain shot up her legs, bringing tears to her eyes.

  It was a small space and smelled of sweat, smoke and rancid food. Cobwebs hung from the corners of the ceiling. Two windows on either side of the room had been broken in parts, almost as if someone had gone through them.

  “Hey Buck, whattaya say we have a little fun with her now?” Noah cupped his privates and grinned in her direction.

  The older man slapped Noah on the side of the head. “No. No one touches her until the marshal’s here. You understand, boy? I want him right here to see us take her for the first time.”

  Noah rubbed his head. “Whatta we do with her, then?”

  Buck fisted his hands on his hips. “You can take that gag off. She can scream her fool head off, but ain’t nobody around to hear her.”

  The young man tugged her up and untied the bandana, yanking out strands of her hair. She spat out the filthy rag, her eyes burning from the pain in her scalp. “The marsh
al’s going to kill you both.” Her dry, raspy voice came out a whisper.

  “That right, girl?” Buck strode across the space and backhanded her. Pain exploded in her head, and she reeled, falling onto a cot behind her. Her arms felt as if they would pull out of their sockets, and her fingers were numb. The stickiness of blood trickled down her hands from where the rope chafed against the skin on her wrists.

  Tears sprang to her eyes and slowly slid down her cheeks. How she hated crying in front of these monsters. But mostly she hated knowing Wes would come for her, and probably get himself killed.

  ***

  “Get up, Mather.” Wes shoved the key into the jail cell lock, and swung the door open.

  Joe rubbed his eyes, peering at Wes in the darkness. “Where we goin’?”

  Arnold moved in front of him, blocking the cell door. “Wes, you can’t do this.”

  “I can and I will. Now get out of my way.”

  Arnold held his hands up. “You can’t bring him out there alone. You’ll get yourself, and probably her, killed. I know you would figure that out for yourself if you was thinkin’ clear.”

  “I don’t care what you know, I’m getting Anna back even if I have to let this piece of garbage go free. Now move.”

  Arnold stood his ground. “You’re the marshal. As much as you want to, you can’t get your wife back by releasing a prisoner. You have to get a group together, do a rescue, not go running off half-cocked like this.”

  In a flash, Wes had his gun out and pointed at the man’s chest. “Move, Prentiss.”

  Arnold’s lips tightened. “You know you won’t shoot me. And you know I’m right.”

  After staring at him for a full minute, Wes slowly lowered his gun and scraped his palm down his face. “God, I don’t know what to do.”

  Arnold gripped Wes’s shoulder. “Let’s talk about this. If they want to swap Anna for this scoundrel, they’ll keep her alive. At least until they see Joe.”

  Wes slammed the cell door shut and locked it. Just the thought of those filthy bastards with their hands on Anna brought such a rage pounding through him, he wanted to smash his fist into something very hard. Taking a deep breath, he settled in his chair, rested his bent elbows on the desk and dropped his face in his hands. “They have my wife.”