“Shaye.”
His voice, that wonderful, sexy voice, deep and husky, filled with want and desire.
“Shaye…darlin’, tell me to stop before it’s too late.”
Stop? Why on earth would she want him to stop? She couldn’t love him in the cold light of day, in the harsh realm of reality. But here, safe within her dreams, anything was possible.
“Don’t stop,” she murmured. “Oh, Lord, don’t ever stop.”
The bed creaked as he shifted on the mattress. She felt a whisper of cool air as he gently tugged her nightgown over her head.
In her dream, she opened her eyes …and realized with sudden, startling clarity that she wasn’t dreaming at all, and that her nightgown was now on the floor.
And Alejandro was poised over her, his dark eyes smoldering.
For a moment, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, could only stare at him. He was every woman’s fantasy, she thought, a man without equal. His hair fell over his shoulders, thick and black. His skin was the color of burnished copper, every muscle taut with desire.
She tried to find her voice as he lowered himself over her, but she seemed to have lost the power of speech. She had to stop him before it was too late. But it was already too late. His mouth covered hers, hot and hungry, coaxing and sweet, so sweet.
She moaned softly as she drew him closer, her hands sliding restlessly over his back. Right or wrong, she wanted this moment, and she meant to have it, before it was too late, before she was zapped back to the present, before he met his Fate…
An image of Alejandro being led to the gallows, his hands tied behind his back, flashed through her mind in vivid detail. With a strangled sob, she burst into tears.
“I guess you changed your mind,” he muttered ruefully.
She shook her head. “No…no…you don’t understand. I…you…”
“Shaye, what’s wrong? You can tell me.”
“Nothing,” she said, and sobbed harder.
“Dammit, Shaye, why are you crying?” He rolled off her and sat up, his back against the headboard. “I thought that you…that we…” He ran a hand through his hair. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”
“You…you…haven’t done…anything,” she sobbed. Grabbing the covers, she drew them over her.
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because you…you’re…”
“I’m what?”
“You’re going to die!”
“Darlin’, we’re all gonna die.”
She sat up, drawing the covers up to her chin. “Oh, you don’t understand! I know when you’re going to die.”
He stared at her, one brow arched. “The only way you could know that is if you’re planning to kill me,” he mused. “Are you?”
“Of course not!”
Alejandro shook his head. “Don’t tell me you’re a fortune teller?”
“No. Oh, you’ll never believe me!”
“Try me and see.”
“I know because I came here from the future.”
“The future?”
She nodded, sniffling. “From the year 2000. I was born March nineteenth, 1973 in Los Angeles, California.”
Alejandro grunted softly. He’d suspected it from the very beginning. She was addle-brained, there was no doubt about it now.
“It’s true! You saw my driver’s license. It expires in 2004, one hundred and twenty-four years from now.”
“It’s not possible.”
“I know that. Don’t you think I know that? I didn’t believe it either at first, but it’s true.”
“I’ve heard some tall tales in my day,” he muttered, “but this one beats them all to hell.”
“If it’s not true, how do you explain the things in my backpack?”
“I don’t know.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “I reckon there are lots of new-fangled things being invented in the big cities back East that we haven’t heard about yet.”
Shaye let out an exasperated sigh. “What about my watch? And my shoes? What about my camera? And my phone? And my water bottle?”
He shook his head, clearly unconvinced. “For all I know, those things are common as warts in Los Angeles and New York City.”
“Your mother was an Indian. Her name was Lark or Dove. Your father was Irish and Spanish. You were born in the Black Hills. You came to Bodie in 1879.”
“Her name was White Eagle Woman,” Alejandro replied. He studied her a moment, his expression wary, then thoughtful. “So tell me, when am I going to die?”
“This year. You’re going to be hanged on August twelfth.”
“Hanged! Maldicion! Why?”
“You were convicted of killing Daisy Sullivan.”
He swore again, in English and Spanish. “Supposing I was to believe you, how do you know so much about me?”
“I met a relative of yours. In Bodie. In the year 2000. He told me. I also read Daisy’s diary.”
“How do you know about her diary?” he asked sharply. “I’m the only one who knows about that, and she never lets anyone read it. Not even me.”
“Well, I read it.”
It was impossible, preposterous, and yet he was beginning to believe her. “What’s the town like in your time? In…” He swore softly. “In 2000.”
“It’s a ghost town. By 1882, only six mines were still in operation. By the 1890s, the population was less than a thousand. In 1932, a little boy started a fire behind the Sawdust Corner Saloon. It wiped out more than half of the town.”
Alejandro shook his head. It couldn’t be true. No matter how plausible she made it sound, no one could travel from the future into the past. But if it was true, it would explain so many things, like the strange outfit she had been wearing when he first met her, the peculiar objects in her peculiar pack, the odd words that occasionally cropped up in her speech.
Damn, what if it was true? He rubbed his hand over his jaw again, remembering how she had kept asking him who he really was the day they met.
“So,” he asked, “how did you travel through time? And why did you come here?”
“I don’t know. I came to the ghost town to look around, and I heard music coming out of the saloon.” She shrugged. “Whatever happened, happened when I went into the Queen of Bodie saloon. It wasn’t there when I walked through the town the first time, I’m sure of it.” She bit down on her lower lip. “I’d seen a picture of you the night before. And I…I had dreamed about you.”
“Oh?”
She nodded. “In my dream, you were in a saloon, playing cards. It was the Queen of Bodie.”
He grunted softly. “So, you dreamed of me, and now you’re here?”
“There’s more.”
Something in her voice sent a shiver down his spine. “Go on.”
“I saw you. Before I saw you in my dream.”
The air seemed to spark between them. Alejandro stared at her, felt the hair raise along his arms. His mouth felt suddenly dry. Everything else faded into the distance as he waited for her to go on.
“When I was walking through the town the first day I got there, I stopped at the jail.” She took a deep breath. “When I looked in the window, I saw you. And later that night, I saw you in the jail again. You were wearing a pair of black pants and a white shirt and a black vest embroidered with little gold fleur de lis.”
Alejandro swore. He had ordered the vest she described from San Francisco a month ago. He hadn’t received it yet; there was no way she could possibly know about it. Yet she did.
“You came to stand at the window of the cell, and even though it was impossible, I had the feeling you saw me.”
He stared at her a moment and then, too agitated to sit still, he stood up. Unmindful of his nudity, he crossed the floor to stare out the window. He had always been certain he had seen her somewhere before. Of course, it had never occurred to him that he might have been a ghost at the time. He shook his head. How could he remember something that hadn’t even happened yet? It was prepo
sterous.
“You believe me, don’t you?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m telling the truth! You’ve got to believe me. You’ve got to leave town before it’s too late.”
“I like it here.”
“Are you crazy?” she exclaimed, her voice rising. “If you stay, they’ll hang you.”
“I don’t have any reason to kill Daisy.”
“Well, they convicted you of her murder just the same.”
He turned to face her. “Even if what you say is true, it’s Daisy who has to leave town. Not me.”
Shaye nodded. He was right, of course. Getting Daisy out of town would solve everything. “How will we convince her to go?”
“I don’t know. I guess you could try talking to her.”
Shaye blew out a sigh. “She probably won’t believe me any more than you do.”
“I’m sorry, darlin’, but it’s just too farfetched.”
“Even if you don’t believe me, promise me you’ll leave town before August the ninth.”
“Why? What happens then?”
“You’ll be arrested. Please promise me. At least promise me you’ll think about it.”
A knock on the door put an end to their conversation.
“Who is it?” Alejandro called.
“It’s me, Rio. I need to see you.”
Alejandro glanced at Shaye, a wry smile curving his lips. “Sounds like Fate’s come knocking at the door.”
He reached for a pair of trousers hanging on one of the hooks and pulled them on. He smoothed his hair back with his hands, then opened the door. “Mornin’, Daisy,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
Daisy was wearing a dark blue dress, a black shawl, and black half-boots. The same gold locket she had been wearing before rested in the hollow of her throat.
“Rio, I…” Her eyes widened with recognition when she saw Shaye in his bed.
“Shaye, I don’t think you two have been introduced.”
Shaye sat up. “No, we haven’t.”
“Shaye, this is Daisy Sullivan. Daisy, this is Shaye Montgomery. She’s a friend of mine.”
“Yes,” Daisy said, her voice edged with jealousy. “I can see that.” She looked at Alejandro. “I need to talk to you, Rio.” She glared at Shaye. “Alone.”
“We can talk downstairs,” he told her. “Give me a minute to get dressed.”
With a last baleful look at Shaye, Daisy stepped into the corridor and closed the door.
Shaye watched Alejandro open a dresser drawer and pull out a clean shirt and a pair of socks. He dressed silently, his expression closed to her. He put on his boots, buckled on his gunbelt, grabbed his hat and coat.
He had his hand on the doorknob when he paused. Turning, he crossed the floor to the bed. Bending down, he brushed a kiss across her lips, then left the room.
Shaye stared after him, wondering, as she had before, if it were possible to change the course of history.
Chapter Twelve
He found Daisy in the lobby, pacing back and forth. “Do you want to get something to eat?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
Alejandro glanced into the dining room, which was already crowded with hungry miners. “How about a cup of coffee while we talk?”
“No, we can’t talk here.” She placed her hand on his arm. “Let’s go to my place, where we can be alone.”
“All right.”
They walked down the street in silence. Alejandro nodded to several of the men, smiled automatically at the women, but his mind was on what Shaye had told him. If what she said was true, and more and more he believed her, what did it mean?
Daisy’s house was located at the end of White Street. It was a nice place, modest in size. New buildings were going up all over Bodie. Town lots were selling for a thousand dollars; lots on Bonanza Street were going for six hundred and more. He’d heard of one man who sold a house and lot adjoining the Miners’ Union Hall for more than six thousand dollars.
There were about a hundred buildings up on High Peak. The suburbs extended down the ridge to Silver Hill. Most of the houses were occupied by miners who had wanted to be closer to their work. There were a couple of boarding houses and saloons, as well. Some of the mining companies built boarding houses near the mines in hopes of keeping the workers away from town and on the job. Captain R.F. Lord, who was the superintendent of the McClinton mine, built his house at the apex of High Peak so he could look down over the whole town.
He followed Daisy up the short walkway to the porch and into the house. Cluttered was the only word for the décor. There were fringed pillows and knickknacks everywhere.
“Sit down, Rio,” Daisy said. She dropped her shawl over the back of a chair. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No.” He picked up a couple of pillows and tossed them aside, then sat down on the sofa. “What did you want to talk about?”
She perched on the edge of a dainty chair like a bird about to take flight. “It’s Dade. I think he’s stealing from me.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I’m not stupid. Our profits have been down for the last couple of months. He says business is dropping off, but I know that ain’t true. I think he’s been stealing whiskey, too.”
“Why don’t you sell him your half and go back home? You always said you’d like to go back, if you had the money.”
She shook her head. “Not anymore. I like it here now. Besides…” She glanced away. “I don’t think I could go home and look my mama in the eye, not now.”
“She doesn’t have to know.”
“No.” Daisy met his gaze, reminding him of a defiant child. “This is my home now.”
Alejandro ran his hand over his jaw. Would she believe him if he told her what Shaye had said? Hell, he wasn’t sure if he believed it.
He was trying to figure out how to tell her when suddenly, Daisy was kneeling in front of him.
“I’m afraid of Dade,” Daisy said urgently. “Please come back to the Belle. I need you.”
“Daisy…”
“Please, Rio. I’ll give you my half. I’ll give you any…”
He shook his head. “If I’d wanted the saloon, I would have kept it.”
He reached down, intending to lift her to her feet, but she rose up on her knees and wrapped her arms around his waist.
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with devotion. “I love you, Rio. I’ve always loved you! I never stopped. Please stay with me. I’ll do anything you want, be anything…”
Unlocking her arms from his waist, he stood up, drawing her with him. “Daisy, listen to me, you’ve got to get out of town. You’re in danger here…”
“It’s her, isn’t it? That woman in your bed? I saw the way she looked at you. The way you looked at her.”
“Daisy…”
“It could be good between us, Rio. I could make you happy, I know I could, if you’d just…”
“Daisy, darlin’…” He took her in his arms as she began to cry, held her until her sobs subsided.
“I’m sorry.” She pushed away from him and turned her back. His heart went out to her as he watched her straighten her shoulders, heard her sniffling softly.
“Daisy, listen to me…”
He put his hand on her shoulder, but she shook it off. “Just go away.”
“Daisy, dammit, you’ve got to listen to me!”
“Get out!” she shrieked. She whirled around, her finger stabbing toward the door. “Go, on! Get out!”
“I’ll talk to McCrory.” He pulled his hide-out gun from his inside coat pocket and laid the derringer on the table beside the sofa. “If he gives you any more trouble, let me know. In the meantime, keep this handy.”
Daisy stared at him, her eyes dull and red, her lower lip quivering.
Feeling like a heel, Alejandro left the house. Women! If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never understand any of them.
He
thought about what Shaye had told him while he walked back to the hotel.
It was beyond belief. And yet, she had known things she had no way of knowing. And while he didn’t believe in time travel, he did believe that some people were able to see the future. His great grandfather, Red Bow, had been a shaman gifted with many mystical powers, among them the ability to look into the past, and see into the future.
Shaye wasn’t in their room when he returned to the hotel. Going back downstairs, he looked into the dining room. She was sitting at a back table.
“Everything okay?” she asked as he took a seat across from her.
“She thinks her partner’s skimming the profits.”
“Yes, I know.”
He looked at her, a question in his eyes.
“The diary. It’s all in there. Did she throw herself into your arms?”
He grunted softly.
“So many women, so little time,” she muttered drily.
“What the deuce does that mean?”
“Nothing. Did you tell her about me?”
“I tried. She wouldn’t listen. I’ll give her a few days to calm down…”
“Calm down? What did you say to her?”
He muttered an oath. “I didn’t say anything. She…hell, you said you read her diary. You know what happened.” He blew out a breath. “So, tell me more about the future.”
“I don’t know where to start. People travel in automobiles instead of carriages. We have electric lights instead of kerosene lamps. Our houses have air-conditioning to keep them cool in the summer, and furnaces to keep them warm in the winter. We have airplanes…”
“Airplanes?”
She nodded. “It’s a way to travel through the air. “
“You mean, like flying?”
“Yes. And men have walked on the moon and…”
He laughed out loud at that. “Why would anyone want to walk on the moon?”
It was a good question. She had often wondered that herself. “I don’t know, to prove it could be done I guess.”
He shook his head. “You’ve got a hell of an imagination, I’ll give you that.”
“I’m not making it up! It’s all true. There will be amazing inventions in the next hundred years. Telephones will replace the telegraph. Computers will replace typewriters. Refrigerators will replace ice boxes.”
Journey to Yesterday Page 13
