Swept Through Time - Time Travel Romance Box Set

by Tamara Gill

When she raised her eyebrows, he smiled. “I haven’t been here in a while, so if I seem a little confused, that’s why. Where do you live?”

  “Tulsa.” Anna’s smile faltered as an image of this same man, claiming there was no such place as ‘Tulsa,’ danced in and out of her memory, like a long ago dream. Her eyes met his in confusion. She could almost hear his voice as he uttered the words.

  Her gaze wandered from his eyes to his high cheekbones, full lips and stubble of a beard. In a flash she envisioned that face as he held her in his arms while she struggled to breathe, a massive pain in the back of her head. The image was so strong, and caught her with such surprise, that she gasped.

  He frowned, reaching across the formica table to touch her hand. “What’s wrong?”

  She rubbed her forehead, the pain very real. “I don’t know. This is going to seem weird to you, but even though I’m sure we’ve never met, I have a feeling I know you.”

  Her insides clenched when he smiled as if he held a great secret. She struggled to catch her breath, on the verge of a full-fledged panic attack. Where was her brown paper bag when she needed it?

  ***

  Wes didn’t know how much longer he could keep from grabbing her. It was obvious she felt some connection between them, but it was too soon to tell her the entire story. As they chatted, he didn’t understand most of what she said, but listened intently.

  Anna patted her lips with a paper napkin. “You said before that you hadn’t been here for a while. Where’s your home?”

  Running his index finger around the rim of his cup, he looked off into the distance. “I was living in Kansas−quite a ways from here. But I have reasons now to move to Tulsa.”

  Anna eyed him thoughtfully. “Maybe we’ll run into each other once in a while.”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  It was becoming more difficult to carry on a normal conversation with Anna when all he wanted to do was blurt out his story and be done with it.

  “Well, I really do have to be on my way.” Anna reached for her pouch and fumbled around inside it.

  Realizing she must be looking for money, Wes picked up the check from the table. “I’ll pay.”

  Anna threw him a smile that had his body coming alive as it hadn’t for weeks. Wes looked at the small piece of paper, amazed at how much two cups of coffee cost in the future. He pulled out the bills his grandmother had given him and left enough on the table.

  Once they were outside, Anna turned to him. “Is your car here? I don’t see any other except mine.”

  Car. She must have been referring to the machine she walked toward. He seemed to remember something about that from Koyake'’s quick instructions.

  “No, I don’t have a . . . car.”

  She tilted her head, questioningly. “Oh. Where is it?”

  Wes fumbled, unsure how to answer her question. As she continued to stare at him, he blurted the first thing that came to mind. “It was stolen.”

  Anna’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? That’s terrible. How will you get to Tulsa?”

  He shrugged, then flashed her a smile. “Can I ride with you?”

  After a slight hesitation, she nodded. “Sure.”

  They headed to her car and he watched as she opened her door, then he did the same on his side. As he settled in, he noted it was the most comfortable place he’d ever sat in.

  “Fasten your seat belt,” Anna said as she slid a key into a metal column of some sort and turned it with a quick flip of her wrist. A loud humming surrounded them.

  Wes glanced over his shoulder and pulled down a strap as he’d seen her do and pushed the metal end into a slot with a soft click. With his heart in his throat, he grasped a handle alongside him as the machine moved forward with such speed he thought for sure they would both be killed. No wonder they had to tie themselves in.

  Anna tapped a small button in front of her and music began to play. “I love this song, don’t you?” She glanced at him and he almost screamed at her to not look at him, but keep watching all the other cars around them.

  “I don’t remember it.” The words barely made it out of his mouth, fear keeping his throat closed.

  “‘Open Arms?’ By Journey?” When he shook his head, she shrugged. “I think it’s the most romantic song ever recorded.”

  After an hour or so he became used to the movement, and was able to look around. His grandmother had been correct. Life in the future was very different. But sitting here, unable to touch his wife−hell, not even able to tell her how much she meant to him−was killing him.

  “Is it possible to stop somewhere so we can talk?”

  “I guess so. Are you feeling all right? You look like you might be sick to your stomach or something.”

  Wes blew out a breath. “No, I’m fine. I just want to talk to you, and I need your attention.”

  Although she looked a bit nervous, she nodded and slowed the car. “There’s a small park here.”

  The machine entered a wooded area, with tables scattered around. Once it came to rest, Anna again fumbled with the key and the noise discontinued. “Want to walk around?”

  What he wanted to do was make love to her. Assure himself she was really here, soft and warm, not as he last remembered her. Cold and dead. He shivered at the memory and tried his best to push it away as he joined her in the bright afternoon sun.

  After they were a few feet from the car, he took her hand. At first she seemed to pull back, but then she closed her eyes for a second and formed the smile he remembered so well. They strolled to one of the tables and Wes leaned his hips against the edge, clasping both of her hands in his so she faced him.

  Taking a deep breath, he said, “I want to tell you something. A very important story.”

  She eyed him curiously. “All right.”

  Wes hesitated, the words sticking in his throat. Now that the time had come, he needed a way to ease into it. He studied the face he never thought to see again, her large brown eyes, the slight scattering of freckles, and that perplexing smile.

  He ran his fingers through his hair, wondering how to begin, where to start with finding something that would make sense of a very unusual tale. She continued to stare at him, waiting patiently.

  Suddenly, it came to him in a flash. “I’m . . . I’m an author and I just finished a book.”

  ***

  Anna raised her brows. “Really?” She’d never met a real author before.

  “Yes.” He leaned forward, a slight smile curving his sexy lips. “And I’d like to tell you about it, see what you think.”

  “This is why you wanted my attention?” The entire morning had been nothing but a string of weird events since she’d left the motel. She studied him, the oddly familiar stance, and despite her misgivings, she knew in her heart she could trust this man. Had trusted him, somewhere along the line. Bizarre.

  “Yes. It’s a strange story, but one I’d like very much for you to hear.”

  She shifted her feet, pushing away her uncomfortable thoughts. “I’m listening.”

  He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and seemed to reflect before he spoke. “My book begins with my main character, a bounty hunter, finding her fiancé cheating with her best friend.” He paused, his hand tightening on hers.

  Anna’s breath hitched, and she jerked her head up, staring into his eyes.

  What the hell?

  His slow smile turned into a full grin, as he raised her hands to his mouth and rubbed her knuckles across his lips. And it felt right.

  “Wait, Anna,” he whispered. “It gets better . . .”

  EPILOGUE

  Six Years Later

  Wes held his face up to the hot stream of water cascading down his body, his muscles relaxing as the heat worked its magic. Truly, the best thing about the future must be showers. Especially when his wife was in a playful mood and joined him. He groaned as he felt a stirring in a part of his body that was best ignored right now. Six years of marriage and he still reacted
like a randy teen to thoughts of Anna’s curves.

  Within minutes, the cooling water reminded him that soon the hot water tank needed to be replaced with a larger one. Another expense to add to the growing list. He slid open the glass door and stepped onto the soggy bathmat, his feet making a squishing sound. Reaching for something to dry himself with, he snagged the only towel in the bathroom, already wet from his wife’s shower. He grinned at life with Anna.

  Wrapping it around his waist, he studied himself in the mirror as he prepared to shave. Water beaded his chest and dripped from his hair. He looked the same, maybe a few years older, but he was no longer a marshal. In any time.

  He thought back to the conversation he’d had with Anna when he’d first arrived. Perched against the picnic table, she listened, then stepped back and walked away from him. He’d given her time to absorb it all, staying near the table as she wandered around, mumbling to herself and shaking her head. Thankfully she hadn’t jumped into her car and raced away from a man she must’ve thought at the time was crazy.

  When she’d returned to him, she’d admitted there was definitely something between them, much too strong for them to be strangers, but still she refused to believe his story.

  Could he blame her? At least Anna hadn’t dismissed it out of hand, and she’d reluctantly agreed to allow him to court her, what this future time called ‘dating.’

  Most likely it was his complete ignorance of all things modern back then that finally convinced her, even to the point of Anna finding someone to give him an identity. Strange how a man had to prove himself in this time and place. And not by his family or character, but by various pieces of paper issued by the government.

  Thoughts of family always evoked wistfulness with memories of his grandparents. He and Anna had traveled once to the Indian store in Kansas. The owners−a couple in their mid forties−assured Wes they’d never employed an elderly Native American woman in the ten years they’d owned the store.

  But as he told Koyake’ and mIshomes before he left, they were always close to his heart.

  Banging on the bathroom door drew him from his musing. “Daddy, open up.”

  “I’m not dressed, Princess. Go have Mommy get your breakfast and I’ll be right down.”

  “All right.” A major sigh from five-year-old Macie. “I’ll wait in the kitchen for you. But hurry up.”

  Once she’d shut the outer door, he left the bathroom, then quickly pulled on jeans and a tee shirt with Journey Tour - 2013 inked on the front, grateful he didn’t have to dress in a suit and tie−modern day torture−to earn a living. Whistling softly, he finger-combed his hair and headed downstairs.

  ***

  Coffee mug in hand, Anna moved her head to the side when Wes snagged her from behind and nuzzled her neck. “Good morning,” he growled.

  She batted his hand when his fingers crept up her ribs toward her breast. “Little eyes . . .” She gestured toward Macie watching them from her place at the table.

  Wes turned to their daughter. “And good morning to you, too, Princess.”

  Macie grinned, milk dripping down her chin from a mouthful of cereal. Wes looked at the colorful kernels in her bowl. “Honey, I thought we decided to get healthier food.”

  “She likes that,” Anna said as she took her place at the table and sipped from her cup. “Ah, nothing beats my first shot of coffee.”

  “Well, if you can’t lick ‘em, join ‘em.” Wes poured cereal from the box with cartoon characters decorating it. “Is this stuff really good?”

  Macie nodded. “The best.”

  He shuddered when he took the first bite, then lifted the cereal box and studied the nutrition label. “God’s sake, this thing is all sugar!”

  Anna shrugged. “So I’ll pack her a nutritious lunch.”

  “No school today, Mom.” Macie glanced at Wes. “She always forgets.”

  “Why no school?” He pushed the bowl of cereal away.

  Macie rolled her eyes. “Duh. Saturday?”

  Wes grabbed his coffee mug. “Well then, finish up, Princess, if you’re going to help me with work today.” He rose and kissed Anna on the head and left the room.

  ***

  Anna wandered along the hallway from the kitchen to the part of the house that contained the office of Shannon Security Systems, eyeing the mess of toys scattered along her path. With her hands curled around the warmth of a dark blue mug with the triple intertwined “S” emblazoned on it, she leaned against the doorway and sipped, watching Wes and Macie, who straddled his lap.

  They had their heads together, studying a computer screen while Wes’s fingers flew over the keyboard. Macie’s curly brown hair−not yet brushed, Anna noted−tumbled down her back in its usual early morning disarray. She swung her leg back and forth in rhythm with a cadence only the child knew.

  Warmth spread through her each time she viewed this scene. Her husband from the past had become such a computer geek, it always amused her to watch him operate their security business with numerous monitors, computer screens, and latest electronic gadgets surrounding him.

  Despite his initial reluctance, he had agreed to attend a few counseling sessions, and it had been years since he’d been troubled by his PTSD. And it hadn’t required sitting around a sewing circle to do it, either.

  She’d given up her quest to be reinstated in the police department, opting instead for the ‘safe’ work of high-tech security. Wes had taken to electronics and everything modern with boyish eagerness. His initial fear at the speed of cars soon left him, and he whipped around town in his Mazda Miata while she was left driving the SUV.

  “Daddy, what’s this for?” Macie pointed to a device on the table.

  Wes began a lengthy explanation, her daughter’s eyes wide with wonder. Anna moved from the doorway and took the comfortable padded seat next to them. “Honey, she doesn’t understand that stuff.”

  “Yes, I do, Mom. You always say that.” The little girl, with her daddy’s features, wrinkled her nose as she returned her attention to Wes.

  “That’s right, Macie. Tell your mommy that one day you’ll be CEO of your own company.”

  The first time Anna had heard Wes say that to their daughter, she roared with laughter. The man who’d been so adamant about her not working when they initially married had done a complete about-face once he’d been presented with a daughter instead of a son. He’d certainly adapted well.

  It had taken her a while to believe his story, but too many times she’d had flashes of her own past that confused her. Eventually she’d acknowledged their connection, and insisted if they intended to live together, they would have a legal, contemporary wedding.

  Anna cleared her throat and placed her cup on the polished surface of her desk, far enough away from the computer to prevent an accident. “Well, my suspicions were correct.”

  Tearing his eyes away from the computer screen, Wes faced her. “What’s that, honey?”

  “Macie will have to make room for a partner in her company when she’s CEO.”

  His brows drew together, his eyes darting back to the computer screen, a sure sign he wasn’t really listening to her. “Oh?”

  She sighed and cupped his face with her hands. “Yes. Our new baby is due in about eight months.”

  “Yay, I want a sister!” Macie shouted.

  Wes’s eyes lit up and he moved his daughter off his lap, pulling Anna over, settling her on his thighs. “Honey, that’s fantastic news. I know you’ve been worrying about another pregnancy for a long time.” He kissed her softly, nibbling at her lips, offering his full attention.

  Anna laid her head on his shoulder and rubbed her cheek on the soft material of his tee shirt. “In all honesty, I was beginning to think Macie would be an only child.”

  Wes ran his fingers up and down her bare arm. “Maybe in another five years we can add a third partner.” He tugged playfully on her ponytail.

  “Hmm. Not sure we need another partner. But I’m all for doing
as much practicing as we can work in.”

  “Practicing for what, Mommy?” Macie asked from where she sat, spinning on Anna’s chair.

  Wes grinned at Anna. “You’re the mommy, you explain it.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Callie has been making up stories since elementary school, and putting pen to paper gave her a way to turn off the voices in her head. Writing has always been her passion, and she’s authored several romance novels, with an emphasis on the American West, both historical and contemporary.

  Oklahoma is where she hangs her hat with her husband, two young adult children, and three dogs.

  You can catch her hanging out at Facebook, Twitter- @CallieHutton, and her home base, www.calliehutton.com. Stop by sometime and say hello. She also loves hearing from her readers. Drop her a line: calliehutton11@gmail.com

  HIGHLAND SORCERER

  Clover Autrey

  CHAPTER ONE

  Charity Greves barely plunked her purse down on the counter when a mini-cyclone rippled through her kitchen, lifting her hair and zinging an electrical current down her spine. The world opened up on a slash of spiraling gray—and a naked bleeding man materialized out of thin air.

  And dropped to the linoleum.

  Hey. She just mopped that floor.

  The gray swirling rift in space hovered in the air for a few seconds, pulling on her clothing and hair, until it closed on itself like a small universe imploding.

  She frowned. Sorcerer.

  Had to be a sorcerer. They were the only magic wielders around who had the ability to travel a rift from one place to another.

  And a powerful one by the looks of him. There weren't many sorcerers left in the world who could tune in and sense a healer across distances and fewer still who could open and travel through a rift in space while in the weakened condition he appeared to be in.

  Her pulse kicked up a notch. Should she be afraid? Backing up toward the door, she grabbed her cell phone to punch in 911, wondering just how dangerous the sorcerer could be, except...he didn’t look all that dangerous sprawled on her floor, bleeding all over it. Kicked and battered puppy was more like it. She couldn’t exactly explain how a naked guy ended up in her apartment in that condition if she called for help anyway. Besides, she was a healer. Geez, get a grip and take care of the man already.