Katlin knew she was good at her job. She was able to think and react on her feet, but, when she went out on an undercover assignment, she had a cover set up in advance. She had always taken the time to thoroughly research the case, the people involved, to anticipate possible complications, and to devise counter measures should they become necessary. She also always had backup she knew she could count on. Now her only backup was a dog and a spirit guide/guardian angel who had the unsettling tendency to pop up then disappear at the most inopportune times. Everything had happened so fast she had barely had time to catch her breath much less think.
"Look, Katlin, as you said earlier, you saved my ass," Mitch said. "If you're in some kind of trouble, I'll do everything I can to help." "Good thinking, Cameron," he told himself silently. "Let her think she has you buffaloed."
"I hope you mean that," Katlin responded with a sigh of relief.
"I mean it. I won't press you for answers you don't feel you can give." Mitch started to pull his cigarette makings from his pocket then thought better of it, he had been smoking too much lately. "I owed you an explanation. By saving my worthless hide, you may well have put yourself in danger. You, on the other hand, owe me nothing."
Katlin took a deep breath, looked heavenward, and offered a silent, heartfelt, "Thank you, God." At this point, she wouldn't have been a bit surprised if she had heard a deep rumbling voice from the heavens responding, "You're welcome."
The only rumble she heard was the sound of her stomach growling. Her hand went to her stomach as her startled gaze met Mitch's. Even as she felt a heated blush caress her cheeks, Katlin couldn't repress an irresistible chuckle.
"So, Ranger Cameron, where do we go from here?" she asked, hoping his answer included food.
Mitch rose agilely to his feet and, with a devastating grin that caused her pulses to race and her nipples to harden, reached a hand down to help her up. Katlin was unaware of the captivating picture she made as she met his smile with one of her own and trustingly placed her hand in his.
"First, we need to get out of here before those bushwhackers decide to circle around and catch us in a cross fire," he explained as he pulled Katlin to her feet. Mitch wasn't overly concerned that the hired guns might return. If his assessment was correct, he had been delivered into her very capable hands and the sidewinders had hightailed it, leaving her to get on with her part of the job. "Then," he added, "we need to find someplace with cover to set up camp before it gets dark."
As they walked toward their horses, Katlin couldn't help noting that Mitch still held onto her hand. She knew she should pull her hand from his but was surprisingly reluctant to do so. Her small hand in his large, callused one, felt oddly comforting, natural, as if they had walked hand in hand many times before.
Unfortunately, Bart appeared to take exception to the familiarity. He stepped into their path and glared up at Mitch with a low, warning growl.
Katlin said "oops," and quickly pulled her hand from Mitch's.
"Oops?" Mitch repeated, eyeing the dog warily.
Katlin went to her knees, gave the dog a hug, then scratched him behind the ears. "Bad manners on my part, old pal. I didn't introduce you properly, did I?" She spoke soothingly to the dog then looked up at Mitch.
"Mitch, this big guy is Black Bart, my best friend and protector," she explained as though she were introducing him to a person. A person with four legs and very sharp teeth.
Feeling like a danged fool but going along with her, Mitch acknowledged her introduction to the hell hound. "Pleased to meet you, Black Bart," he said in the tone of voice he used when talking to his horse. He didn't know if he should risk his hand by offering to shake the dog's paw or attempt to pat him on the head.
The dog responded to his gesture with what sounded to Mitch like a cross between a growl and a grunt. Almost what he would expect from a father who had just been introduced to a lower than a snake's belly scoundrel that wanted to court his only daughter.
"Lighten up, Bart," Katlin told the dog. "Mitch is a friend, like Uncle Ben."
"Uncle my ass," Mitch muttered under his breath. Determined to win the beast over, he went down on one knee and held out his hand for the dog to smell. Since he had no intention of letting the hell hound's mistress out of his sight until she led him to his father's killer, he had no choice but to humor her foolish notion and try to make friends with the beast. It was either that or shoot the animal, which would defeat his purpose.
"Look pal, you and I are going to have to reach a truce so we can get out of here," Mitch spoke to the dog as if it could understand exactly what he was saying. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting hungry, and I know your mistress is too. Her stomach was growling louder than you do."
Katlin watched Bart carefully, waiting to see how he would respond. When Mitch said the word hungry, Bart's ears perked up. He sniffed Mitch's extended hand, looked up at Katlin, then up at Mitch. He sniffed Mitch's hand a second time and again looked from Katlin to Mitch before he plopped down on his hind quarters, his tail wagging so furiously he was stirring up a cloud of dust. He then did something so unexpected even Katlin was stunned. Bart extended his paw as if offering to shake Mitch's hand.
"Well, I'll be damned," Mitch laughed as he reached out and shook the dog's paw. He was grinning with genuine pleasure when he looked over and saw the startled expression on Katlin's face. "Is something wrong?"
"I've had Bart almost five years, and I have never seen him do that, not with anyone, including me." Unsure how Bart would respond to Mitch, Katlin had kept her arm around the dog's neck in case she needed to restrain him. He was well behaved and well trained, but she also knew he was capable of becoming dangerously vicious if he sensed Katlin was threatened. Even her Uncle Ben, who had been around Bart since he was a pup, was treated with barely disguised tolerance by the animal. Yet, when Bart sniffed Mitch's hand, he had acted out of character, as if he had recognized a long lost friend, and he was excited to see him. Katlin made a mental note to ask Sing if he had done something to her dog the next time he popped up.
"Damned if I can explain it," she muttered under her breath. "The trip here must have weirded him out too."
"Must have what?" Mitch asked as he stood and again offered her his hand.
"Never mind, Mitch. Believe me, you wouldn't understand."
"If you say so," was his only response as he helped Katlin to her feet, and they moved hand in hand toward the horses.
Bart was prancing excitedly beside them, his furiously wagging tail literally shaking his entire body. Katlin could almost swear her dog was smiling.
Mitch laced his fingers together and leaned down to offer her a leg up. Katlin placed her foot in his hands and was easily lifted onto her mare's bare back.
"By the way, Mitch," Katlin said, looking down at him, "before my unpredictable friend interrupted me, I was about to tell you I already have a relatively secure camp set up not far from here. And . . . ," she was interrupted by another loud grumble in her stomach, "I can't help it, I haven't eaten since early this morning, and I'm hungry."
"So am I," Mitch agreed, trying not to laugh.
"And, I was going to offer to fix us a hot meal."
"Can you cook as well as you can shoot?"
"Better," she responded without modesty. Considering the supplies she had with her and what he was no doubt used to eating on the trail, he would most definitely be impressed.
"She's beautiful, she can shoot, and she can cook. I wonder what else you can do, Katlin McKinnen?" Mitch said before he mounted his Appaloosa.
"You'd be surprised at what else I can do, Ranger Cameron," Katlin responded with a teasing smile. "You'd be very surprised." As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could call them back. Most of the men she knew would put a sexual connotation on her innocent remark even though sex was the furthest thing from her mind. Or was it? Katlin McKinnen was nothing if not honest with herself, and she had to admit she had been blatantly
flirting with Mitchell Cameron. She groaned inwardly. They were out in the open, in danger of being caught in a crossfire from five gunmen, and she was flirting with a man she had just met like some adolescent twit.
Mitch reined in beside Katlin, acting as if he hadn't picked up on the sexual overtones behind her words. The little witch was playing with fire. Another time, another place, he would have challenged that smart assed remark. Fortunately, he was smart enough to know if he allowed her to bewitch him into thinking with the head in his trousers instead of the one on his shoulders, he could wind up dead. But there would come a time and a place when he had every intention of finding out exactly what else Katlin McKinnen could do, when he would learn what other games that wayward tongue of hers was capable of playing. If she wanted to play with fire, he was just the man who could teach her how hot it could get.
Katlin swallowed hard, lifted her chin, and boldly met Mitch's gaze, fully prepared to explain that she hadn't meant what her words implied. Judging from his expression, she was relieved mixed with an inexplicable feeling of chagrin that he had taken her words at face value and had not put a sexual interpretation on them. It appeared that she was the only one who's mind had been wandering into territory best left unexplored.
"Don't go there, McKinnen," she warned herself. "This is the wrong place, not to mention the wrong century, to allow yourself to indulge in a vacation romance. Besides, the man is at least one hundred and thirty years too old for you."
Consigning her wayward thoughts to the far reaches of her mind, Katlin made an attempt to recapture the easy rapport she had felt with Mitch. Curving her lips in what she hoped was a teasing smile and meeting his gaze with a wide eyed innocence that was worthy of an Oscar, she asked, "Mitch, would you do me a favor?"
Again he responded with that quirk of his eyebrow that she had become familiar with in such a short period of time. "That depends on what you want me to do."
"Next time you need rescuing, give a girl time to saddle up before she's forced to ride in to save your ass."
Mitch couldn't resist the genuine laughter that bubbled up inside him, catching him unaware, and he was inordinately pleased that she joined him. "You've got a mouth on you lady. I can already see that we're going to have a real problem when we reach Abilene."
"Oh? Why is that?"
Mitch chuckled, "The way you dress and the way you talk, Katlin. I'm afraid the upright matrons of Abilene will be scandalized." And he was sure he would enjoy every minute if it. For a chance to meet up with this fascinating female who was unlike any woman he had ever met, it was almost worth being ambushed. Despite the craziness of the position he found himself in, Mitch couldn't remember when he had enjoyed himself more. For that matter, when was the last time he had actually laughed out loud? He couldn't remember.
"Screw the uptight prudes in Abilene," Katlin tossed over her shoulder with a laugh as she kicked her heels into the mare and raced ahead of him. She was tired of feeling she had to
be little miss perfect in order to win love and acceptance. In truth, the language she had been using surprised even her. She rarely resorted to swearing, even though she worked with men daily who often used language unfit for mixed company. Considering what she had been through today, the words shucks and darn sounded absurdly inadequate. She had however refrained from using the "F" word, even though she had been sorely tempted.
For the first time since this whole thing started, Katlin felt like she had a few minutes to catch her breath and to collect her scattered wits. She glanced toward Mitch who was riding quietly at her side, his eyes scanning the countryside, no doubt trying to detect any signs of the gunmen returning. Taking a deep cleansing breath, Katlin was surprised that even the air felt different, cleaner, fresher. And why shouldn't it? There were no pollutants in the air in 1871. Everything was cleaner, brighter, larger than life. And the sky, had it ever been such a deep blue?
The Flint Hills was probably her favorite area in all of Kansas, with breathtaking rolling terrain covered with a sea of tallgrass and prairie wild flowers. But somehow, the colors had never seemed so vivid, the air so sweet, filling her with such a sense of wonder, a heart-tugging sense of homecoming.
"Katlin, you have to tell him the truth about who you are and where, or to be more accurate, when you are from," came the unmistakable sound of Sing's voice. She was so startled she jerked back on the reins. The high strung Arabian beneath practically skidded to a halt and reared back on her hind legs, front legs pawing the air.
Her heart beating a rapid tattoo in her chest, Katlin quickly brought her skittish mount under control. Lifting her chin, she assumed all the dignity she could muster as her eyes searched the surrounding area for her provoking spirit guide. Calling him a guardian angel at this point was just too much of a stretch of the imagination, even for her. She wouldn't have been at all surprised to see LuChen Sing floating beside her on a magic carpet or some such thing. He was nowhere to be seen.
Mitch reined in beside her, his denim clad calf so close it brushed hers in a whisper of warmth. "Are you all right?" he asked, shaking his head as if genuinely concerned.
"I'm just hunky dory," Katlin bit out sarcastically. Instantly contrite, she carefully schooled her features and forced her lips into a semblance of a smile, then improvised. "I'm fine. Something spooked my horse, a snake maybe." Damned if she didn't hear Sing chuckle.
"You're sure?" He shot her that lethal smile of his, totally unaware of Sing's presence, or rather, the presence of Sing's voice.
"I'm positive."
Mitch searched her features, noting the expressionless mask he was already beginning to recognize was back in place. Despite her efforts, she had not been able to disguise the pallor that had made her appear suddenly vulnerable. Not convinced but unwilling to force the issue, he applied pressure with his knee to his horse and moved slightly ahead of her. Whatever had spooked the mare was probably long gone, but it was wise to be cautious and check it out . . . just in case.
Katlin took a deep, calming breath before she set the mare into motion, falling in several feet behind the Ranger.
"I'm still here, Little One."
It was then that she realized she was hearing Sing's voice inside her own head. No wonder she was getting a headache. Katlin had to literally bite her tongue to keep from speaking aloud. Instead, she had to concentrate on talking to him mentally, almost like she was talking to herself. The way she figured it, after all she had already been through, communicating by mental telepathy should be a piece of cake.
"Isn't there some rule about you being able to just pop into my head like that? If there isn't, there should be. It's unnerving."
"Actually, there is a rule against it. But, you're special to me, so I'm bending the rules a little."
"Gee thanks," she shot back sarcastically.
"You have to tell him the truth."
"I can't. He'll think I'm stark raving mad, and I'm beginning to wonder if he wouldn't be right."
"He'll believe you."
"No he won't."
"Yes he will. It won't be easy for him, but he will believe. He won't have a choice. Besides, him thinking you're loco as they call it here, is better than what he's already thinking."
She didn't like the sound of that. He wouldn't have a choice? Mitch thinking she was crazy is better than what he was already thinking. What was Mitch thinking about her? Feeling decidedly uneasy she all but whispered the question inside her own head.
"Sing? What are you going to do?" No response. Was he gone again, leaving her hanging? "Damn it, Sing, answer me. I've handled this whole thing pretty well so far, but I'm beginning to panic here."
She could hear the sound of his merry laughter echoing in her head. Thank God, he was still with her. Unfortunately, her relief was short lived.
"I didn't do anything, Grasshopper, and I'm not going to, but you did."
"I did? What did I do?"
"You'll see." Sing told her as the sound o
f his laughter faded away into nothingness. He was gone again.
Katlin knew what she needed more than anything else, except maybe a shrink, was time. Time away from Mitch Cameron's potently disturbing presence so she could think. Although Katlin was sure it was just her imagination, she could almost feel a warm tingle where his calf had brushed against hers. She needed time to get back in control and time to rationalize her position and her options in a world gone mad.
Then Katlin found herself wondering if LuChen Sing had other people he watched over. If he did, she also had to wonder if any of them were functioning outside of mental institutions?
Chapter Three
The rest of the ride back to camp passed uneventfully in a companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Katlin was trying to decide what and exactly how much she dared to tell Mitch. That was if, as Sing had indicated, she was forced to do so.
About Sing and the meditation she believed brought her here, she decided it was wiser to say nothing. If her Uncle Ben, who was open minded and lived in an age where metaphysics and New Age Philosophy were common practice, found it all hard to take, Texas Ranger Mitchell Cameron of the year 1871 would find it impossible.
As for how much to tell him about the future, she would have to tread very carefully. She'd have to trust her instincts, hope for the best, and pray that Sing would be there to help if she made a real mess of things.
Katlin spotted the pond up ahead and began searching for the clearing. Considering the lack of trees in this time period, it should have been an easy task. The clearing and her camp were no longer there.
As soon as the realization that her camp had vanished registered in Katlin's brain, something startling happened. Bart, who was about fifty yards ahead, simply disappeared. Her heart seemed to stop beating in her chest before it took a nose dive into the pit of her stomach.
"Oh Lord. Now what?" she groaned inwardly.
She reined in the mare to a stop and looked toward Mitch at her side. The startled expression on his face telling her clearly that he had witnessed Bart's disappearance as well.
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