Journey to Yesterday

by Madeline Baker

  Was it possible he had seen her through the mists of time? Had his soul felt her spirit and been drawn to the jail that day? Had he looked into her eyes and known they were meant to be together? Had his soul’s longing for her been so strong that he had pulled her back in time?

  He grunted softly, thinking how ridiculous his thoughts would sound if he put them into words.

  They rode until midnight, then took shelter in a shallow draw. Shaye spread their bedrolls side by side, hoping, as she did so, that there weren’t any snakes nearby. A short distance away, Alejandro hobbled the horses. He built a small fire to warm them and they dined on bread, canned meat, peaches and coffee, with peppermint sticks for dessert.

  She shivered when a wolf howled in the distance. She remembered reading somewhere that wolves didn’t attack people. She just hoped the wolves had read the same book.

  “He sounds lonely,” she remarked.

  “Maybe he’s just serenading his lady love,” Alejandro said.

  “Maybe.”

  “Don’t worry, darlin’. The only thing out here that’s likely to take a bite out of you is me.”

  She grinned at him across the fire. “Is that right?”

  He patted the place beside him. “Come and see.”

  She pretended to consider it a moment before asking, “Is it safe?”

  “What do you think?”

  Laughing softly, she went to sit beside him. His arm slid around her shoulders, drawing her closer. His kiss, when it came, tasted of coffee and peppermint.

  They spent a pleasant few minutes necking, something Shaye hadn’t done since high school, and then grinned at each other when they both yawned.

  “I reckon we’d better turn in,” Alejandro said.

  “I reckon.”

  “Saucy wench,” he said with a decidedly wicked grin. “Just because I’m letting you off easy tonight doesn’t mean you’ll be so lucky tomorrow.”

  Shaye’s hand flew to cover her heart. “Oh, my,” she exclaimed in mock horror, “I’m all aquiver!”

  His laughter echoed in the night as he drew her head down on his shoulder. “Ah, darlin’, what did I ever do without you?” he whispered as he brushed a kiss across her lips.

  And what will I do if Fate takes you away?

  * * * * *

  It was nearing midnight the following night when they reached the hideout.

  A lookout hollered a challenge when they reached the narrow passageway that led into the canyon. Alejandro answered with the password Calder had given him and a few minutes later he led the way into the hideout, which was located in a shallow valley surrounded by high canyon walls. There were a half dozen shacks, a saloon, a stable, and a large peeled pole corral. All the buildings were dark except the saloon.

  “Are you sure this was a good idea?” Shaye asked dubiously.

  “Sure, darlin’, don’t worry.”

  “I can’t help it,” she muttered as they rode toward the saloon. “It’s what I’m good at.”

  Alejandro tethered their horses to the hitch rail in front of the saloon, then lifted her from the saddle. She groaned softly as her feet hit the ground, grateful for his hands at her waist. It was, she thought, the only thing that kept her upright.

  All activity in the saloon came to a halt when they walked through the door.

  Shaye took it all in in one long glance: the bar opposite the door, the huge man standing behind it, the half-dozen rough-hewn tables, the two painted women, the raw plank floor, the oil lamps hanging from the ceiling.

  “Well, I’ll be go-to-hell!” exclaimed the mountain behind the bar. “Look who’s here!”

  Taking a firm hold of Shaye’s arm, Alejandro walked toward the bar and shook hands with the mountain. “How the hell are ya, Calder?”

  Calder’s laugh was as big as he was. “Fine as a pig in swill. Damn, Rio, I ain’t seen you in a coon’s age.” He glanced at Shaye, then grinned at Alejandro. “I don’t have to ask how you’re doing,” he said.

  “Take it easy, Calder.”

  “Ah,” Calder said, “so that’s how it is. Pleased to meet you, ma’am, whoever you might be.”

  Shaye grinned at him in spite of herself. “Shaye Montgomery,” she said.

  “Jack Calder.”

  He was even bigger than Moose, Shaye thought. His shirt seemed in danger of bursting at the seams with every movement. He had a shock of curly brown hair, pale-blue eyes, and a nose that looked like it had been broken at least once.

  When it was obvious that the newcomers posed no threat, the other occupants went back to their own pursuits. Soon, a low hum of conversation filled the air, punctuated by the slap of cards and an occasional burst of feminine laughter.

  “So, Rio, what brings you here?”

  “I need a place to hole up for a few days.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” Calder said. “I never figured you to take to the owlhoot trail.”

  “I didn’t,” Alejandro said curtly.

  Calder nodded, the look in his eye saying he wouldn’t pursue the matter now, but promising questions later. “Can I get you two a drink? The first one’s on the house.”

  “I could use some whiskey to cut the trail dust,” Alejandro said.

  “Me, too.” Shaye shrugged at Alejandro’s look of surprise.

  “Whiskey, huh?” he said with a grin. “Well, I guess you deserve it after the last two days.”

  Calder placed two shot glasses on the bar, pulled a bottle from underneath, and poured two drinks.

  Alejandro downed his in a single swallow and asked for a refill. Shaye took a sip of hers, coughed as the raw whiskey burned its way down her throat. She had never been much for hard liquor, but she wasn’t sure this stuff really qualified as whiskey. Paint thinner, maybe.

  “You look all tuckered out,” Calder remarked.

  “That we are,” Alejandro replied. “You got room for us?”

  “Sure. The last cabin’s empty. Make yourself t’home.”

  “Thanks, Jack.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “Okay to leave our horses in the corral?”

  “You can put ‘em up in the barn, iffen you want. There’s a couple of empty stalls.”

  “Obliged,” Alejandro said. “You ready to turn in, Shaye?”

  She nodded, wondering if she would ever be able to speak again the way her throat was burning.

  Outside, Alejandro took up the reins of their horses, and they walked to the barn. Shaye unsaddled her horse, then led it into an empty stall and removed the bridle. Alejandro forked the horses some hay, picked up her valise and backpack, and then they followed a dusty path to the last cabin.

  “Don’t expect too much,” Alejandro warned as he opened the door.

  He found a box of matches on the mantle and lit the lamp on the kitchen table, then closed and barred the door.

  Shaye grimaced as she looked around. The place had definitely looked better in the dark. There was a small square table, two rickety looking chairs, a shelf made of empty wooden crates. A narrow bed covered with a dull gray blanket was pushed up against one wall. A faded blue gingham curtain covered the single window, there was a rag rug in front of the hearth.

  “We won’t be here long,” he said. “Think you can stand it for a day or two?”

  She nodded, and hoped she wasn’t lying.

  “Do you want me to wait outside while you undress?” he asked.

  “No.”

  With a nod, he shrugged out of his coat and began to unbutton his shirt.

  Suddenly shy in spite of herself, Shaye turned her back to him. Stripping off her dress and undergarments, she pulled her long cotton nightgown over her head, then sat down on the edge of the bed and took off her shoes and stockings.

  When she looked up, Alejandro was standing beside her wearing only the bottom half of a pair of long johns. He might as well have been naked, she thought, the way they clung to him. He was beautifully formed, from his broad shoulders and we
ll-muscled arms to his flat stomach and long, long legs.

  She pulled down the blanket, more than a little surprised to see that the sheets, while not Tide white, were at least clean. She scooted across the mattress, her heart pounding as Alejandro extinguished the light, then slid into bed beside her. It was a very narrow bed, barely big enough for the two of them.

  “I’m sorry, Shaye,” he said.

  “Sorry? For what?”

  “For getting you involved in all this.”

  Turning on her side, she laid her hand on his shoulder. “I’m not.”

  “I don’t know much about the future,” he said, “but I’m sure it’s better than this.”

  “Everything is different, that’s for sure,” she said. “But not everything is better. People are always in a hurry. They don’t take time to enjoy life anymore. Everything has to be done faster than before. We have microwave ovens that can cook a meal in no time at all, and cars to get us to our destinations faster, and computers and calculators that can add and subtract in the blink of an eye.” She shook her head. “You may not believe it, in fact I don’t believe it myself, but I kind of like it here, in your time.” She paused, her gaze moving over his face. “With you.”

  He sucked in a deep breath, let it out in a long slow sigh, and then he gathered her into his arms and held her tight. When he spoke, his voice was so low she could hardly hear him.

  “Dammit, Shaye, what am I going to do if you go out of my life the same way you came in?”

  “Rio…”

  His arms tightened around her. “Don’t leave me, darlin’.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Shaye.”

  His voice was filled with fear and longing, the same longing she felt, the same fear that she would suddenly be sent back to her own time. She clung to him, knowing, in that moment, that she didn’t want to live in a world without him in it, that she would rather stay here and make do without all the comforts she was accustomed to than go back to her old life.

  She wrapped her arms around him, overcome by a sudden sense of foreboding. What if she had been sent here to save him from the gallows? What if, now that she had accomplished that, she was sent back to the future?

  “Hold me, Rio. Hold me and don’t ever let go!”

  “Shaye.”

  Her name was a question. Her kiss was the answer.

  Driven by the fear of separation, they clung to each other. She moaned with pleasure as his hands and lips moved over her face, her shoulders, her breasts, softly caressing, sweetly arousing. He drew her nightgown over her head and tossed it aside. And she, suddenly bold and unafraid, divested him of his long johns and sent them sailing across the room.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured. “So beautiful.”

  “So are you.”

  He laughed softly and then he was kissing her again, and when the desire that had ever sparked between them could no longer be denied, Alejandro rose over her, his dark eyes blazing. She lifted her hips to receive him and now, joined to him heart and soul and body, she felt complete for the first time in her life.

  He moved within her, each stroke filled her with pleasure, building, building, until she thought she might explode from the wonder of it, the beauty of it, the unbelievable ecstasy. She was a writer. Words were her forte, yet she knew she would never find the words to express the joy of his touch, the sense of belonging, of having finally found what she had been searching for her whole life. Alejandro… She cried his name as she tumbled over the edge, her arms holding him tight, her body convulsing as wave after wave of ecstasy pulsed through her. Alejandro threw back his head, his eyes closed, as he reached his own climax, and then, his body still shuddering, he buried his face in the curve of her neck.

  Shaye held him close, relishing his weight, pleased that he was in no hurry to shatter the sweet afterglow of their love making. Josh had always rolled away as soon as he was finished, often leaving her feeling bereft. She stroked his hair, awed by the intensity of her feelings. She longed to tell him she loved him, but something kept her from voicing the words aloud.

  “I must be getting heavy,” he remarked after a while.

  They were not the words she wanted to hear.

  Rolling onto his side, he cradled her against him, one arm around her waist, one hand cupping her breast. He brushed a kiss over her shoulder, his breath warm on her skin.

  “Sweet dreams, darlin’,” he murmured.

  He did care for her, she thought. It was there in his eyes, in his voice, whether he put the feeling into words or not.

  “Same to you,” she murmured. A moment later, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, she drifted to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Alejandro listened to the soft even sound of Shaye’s breathing. For the first time since his mother passed away, he was content, and yet even that contentment was edged with despair. What would he do if he lost her? He had been a drifter his whole adult life, never settling long in any one place, never sinking roots, never letting anyone get close to him, never feeling the need for a forever woman in his life. Until now. From the first time he had seen her, he had known she was the one he had been searching for his whole life. The first time, he thought, and felt a chill slide down his spine. He had been a ghost the first time he had seen her. His arm tightened around her waist. Her skin was soft and smooth. Her hair was silky where it fell across his chest. Her breast was warm in his hand. Shaye.

  Her name was like the soft sigh of the wind whispering through the cottonwood trees, reminding him of the carefree days of his childhood with the Lakota. Long summer days when he had wanted nothing more than to be a warrior like his grandfather, Elk-Who-Runs-in-the Night. He had listened in awe to the old stories and to the tales of battle the men had told around the campfire at night. In his mind’s eye, he had been one of them, a seasoned warrior riding to war against the Crow, stealing ponies from the Pawnee, hunting the curly-haired buffalo in the summer, boasting of his exploits around the fire during the long winter nights.

  And then his mother had died, and she had taken all the security he had once felt with her. His mother. She had been the one constant in his life. Whether at the ranch or the reservation, she had been there, loving him, encouraging him, helping him to have faith in himself, assuring him that he was as much a Lakota as anyone else in the tribe in spite of his mixed blood. Right or wrong, he had measured his worth in her eyes, counted on her to always be there. When she died, he had vowed never to depend on anyone but himself.

  He had gone back to his mother’s people in the summer of ’67. He had spent the summer there, in the Black Hills, gradually coming to the sad realization that there was no going back. Nothing had been the same as he remembered. His grandparents were gone, killed in the massacre at Sand Creek, along with most of the other people he had known.

  Shaye stirred against him, bringing him back to the present. Nothing that had happened in the past mattered now. Nothing mattered but Shaye and whatever time they might have together. He would take her to San Francisco, he thought, buy her a house overlooking the bay.

  It wouldn’t last, he knew that. Sooner or later, he would lose her. Either she would realize he was no good for her, or Fate would send her back where she belonged. But until then…until then, she would be his.

  * * * * *

  Shaye woke slowly, aware of a long, lean body pressed against her back, of a well-muscled arm draped over her waist. Turning her head, she saw that Alejandro was still asleep. Lord, but the man was gorgeous! Just looking at him made her feel all soft and squishy inside. She smiled, remembering how only a few months ago she had sworn she never wanted to have anything to do with another man. Now, she couldn’t imagine a life without Alejandro in it. She loved him, she thought, loved him desperately. She only hoped and prayed that he felt the same.

  She smiled as his eyes opened. “Morning.”

  “Mornin’, darlin’.” He kissed the tip of her nose, the corners of her mouth.<
br />
  “You look beautiful in the morning.”

  “Right.”

  “I mean it. There’s a glow about you. It’s very becoming.”

  “Well, if I’m glowing, Mr. Valverde, you’re the one who deserves all the credit.”

  “Why, thank you, ma’am,” he drawled.

  “Thank you.” Happiness bubbled up inside her and spilled over in a froth of laughter.

  He looked at her, one brow arched in question. “Something funny?”

  “No, I’m just happy, that’s all.”

  His arm tightened around her. “Me, too,” he said quietly. And for the first time in more years than he cared to recall, it was true.

  She heard the faint note of surprise in his voice. She rolled over so they were lying face to face. Lost in the depths of his eyes, she murmured the words she had been holding back for so long. “I love you.”

  “I can’t imagine why.”

  She brushed a lock of hair from his brow. “Does anyone ever know why?”

  “You’ve got a good heart, Shaye Montgomery, a good soul.”

  It was by far the nicest compliment she had ever received, and yet she couldn’t help wishing that he would say the words she so longed to hear.

  His finger traced the outline of her chin, her cheek, her nose, drifting slowly over her lips. “And you’re beautiful, darlin’. So beautiful.”

  “So are you.”

  He laughed at that.

  “You are, and you know it. You turn heads everywhere we go. Stop laughing! It’s true. Saloon girls, Addy Mae, Lily, Sophie…” Her voice trailed off and she frowned at him. “Have you made love to a lot of women?”

  He shrugged. “A few. I’m not a monk, and a man has needs, you know.”

  His gaze moved over her face, seeing the hurt she tried to hide. “Shaye, darlin’,” he said fervently. “I’ve made love to other women, but it’s never meant anything, until now.”

  “Rio…”

  He knew what she wanted to hear, but he couldn’t put his feelings into words.