Journey to Yesterday

by Madeline Baker

  Crossing the floor, she went to stand in front of a large glass-fronted cupboard filled with a variety of jars and bottles.

  She read the labels, looking for something that sounded familiar. She spied a box of powders marked salicylate of sodium. She frowned, trying to recall where she’d heard the name before. If she wasn’t mistaken, salicylate of sodium had been a forerunner to aspirin. Opening the cupboard, she took a couple of the packets and put them in her skirt pocket. She needed something to fight the infection, but what? Nothing else looked or sounded familiar. Where the heck was the doctor? She found a roll of bandages and took that too, then, feeling thoroughly discouraged, she headed for the front door. Pausing in the foyer, she dropped a couple of dollars on the table beside the door to ease her conscience, then hurried out of the house.

  Dawson and Norland were playing cards when she entered the room. Alejandro was still sitting in the chair, his eyes closed.

  Dawson glanced down at his pocket watch. “Didn’t think you were coming back.”

  “I said I would.”

  She poured a glass of water from the pitcher on top of the dresser, opened the aspirin packet and poured the powder into a glass. She shook Alejandro’s shoulder gently. “Here, drink this.”

  He looked at her through eyes glazed with pain and fever. “Dammit, Shaye, why didn’t you leave?”

  “Just drink this. We can discuss it later. And you know why.”

  A faint smile touched his lips. “Because you’re stubborn?”

  “Exactly. Now drink this.”

  He took a sip, grimaced, and drained the glass. “Don’t suppose you brought me any whiskey?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry.”

  There was a knock at the door. Dawson and Norland exchanged glances.

  “Who do you suppose that is?” Dawson asked.

  Norland shrugged. “Answer it and see. We’ve got nothing to hide.”

  The knocking came again, louder this time.

  Dawson jerked his chin at Shaye. “See who it is.”

  Rising, Shaye opened the door to find a tall, frail, gray-haired man standing there.

  “Yes?”

  “Who the devil are you?” the man asked brusquely, “and what were you doing coming out of my house?”

  “Are you the doctor?” Shaye asked.

  “Yes, and I saw you leaving my house. I want to know what you were doing there.”

  “Looking for you.” She took a deep breath, her nose wrinkling at the smell of whiskey. “Guess I should have checked the saloons.”

  The doctor glared at her. “Why were you looking for me? Someone sick?”

  Shaye could feel Dawson staring holes in her back, but she didn’t care. Alejandro needed help and she intended to see he got it. “Yes,” she said, hoping Dawson wouldn’t get mad and kill them all. “Come in.”

  The doctor glanced at Dawson and Norland, nodded, and went to stand beside Alejandro. “This man’s been shot.”

  Dawson nodded. “He’s an escaped prisoner. We’re taking him back to Bodie for trial.”

  “I see. You,” the doctor said, speaking to Alejandro. “Stretch out on the bed. I need to examine your wound.”

  Norland started to object. Shaye could see it in his expression, but Dawson silenced his partner with a glance.

  Alejandro stood up. Shaye slipped her arm around his waist and helped him to the bed, silently thanking God that the doctor had followed her.

  She stood next to the bed while the doctor examined the wound. Muttering to himself about bullets and the stupidity of men, he swabbed the area with carbolic, then probed the wound. A few moments later, he withdrew a tiny piece of fabric. When he was certain there was no other foreign matter in the wound, he filled a syringe with carbolic and water and flushed the wound, then covered it with a compress soaked with carbolic.

  “Don’t move him for a day or two,” the doctor ordered as he snapped his bag shut.

  “Thank you, Doctor. How much do I owe you?”

  “Five dollars.” He handed her three packets of salicylate of sodium. “Give him one of those every six hours. If the fever doesn’t go down, come get me, and I’ll give you a couple more.”

  Reaching into her pocket, Shaye withdrew the two packets she had taken from his office. “I have some.”

  He grunted softly. “You steal those from my office?”

  “Yes. I left two dollars on a table.” She reached into her pocket, counted out three dollars, and handed them to the doctor.

  “Well, I guess that makes us square. Call me if you need me.”

  “Thank you.”

  With a nod, he patted her shoulder. “He’ll be all right, don’t worry.”

  Shaye saw him out the door, then went to sit on the bed beside Alejandro. “How do you feel? Can I get you anything?”

  “I could use something to drink.”

  She poured him a drink of water, lifted his head while he drank. Setting the glass aside, she brushed a lock of hair from his brow. “Get some sleep.”

  “Just a damn minute!” Dawson said. “He can sleep on the floor.”

  She whirled on Dawson like a mother bear defending her young. “He’s hurt. And you’re the one who hurt him. You sleep on the floor.”

  “The hell I will.”

  Shaye glared at him, her hands fisted on her hips.

  Norland chuckled. “Let him have the bed, Dawson. It’s only one night. You take the other bed, and I’ll sleep in the chair.”

  Dawson gave Shaye a push and she stumbled backward, sitting down hard on the edge of the mattress. She looked up at him, suddenly frightened, as he pulled a strip of leather out of his back pocket.

  “Lie down,” he said curtly.

  “Why?”

  “Dammit, just do it!” he said, and then proceeded to tie her hands to the brass headboard.

  Moving to the other side of the bed, he jerked Alejandro’s arms over his head and secured his hands to the headboard, as well.

  “Is that necessary?” Shaye asked.

  “Damn right. Now, go to sleep, both of you. We’re leaving first thing in the morning.”

  Norland extinguished the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

  Shaye listened to the two men settle down for the night, then scooted over, getting as close to Alejandro as possible. “Are you all right?” she whispered.

  “Sure. Dammit, I’m sorry about all this.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Shut the hell up, you two,” Dawson said irritably. “Or I’ll plug ya both.”

  * * * * *

  Shaye woke slowly, wondering why her shoulders and wrists hurt, and then she remembered the night before. She turned toward Alejandro, and found him watching her.

  “How do you feel?” she asked.

  “Better.” His gaze moved over her, warm and filled with love. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll get you out of this.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  He grinned at her. “No need for you to be. I’m worrying enough for both of us.”

  She couldn’t help it. She smiled back at him.

  She heard a distant clock chimed the hour…five…six…seven. A short time later, Dawson entered the room carrying a covered tray. He set it on the rickety table beside the bed. He untied Shaye’s hands, then drew his gun. “Untie him,” he said, “and don’t try anything stupid. He’s wanted dead or alive. I got no problem killing him here and now.”

  She didn’t doubt him for a minute.

  The knot was stubborn but she finally managed to get it untied. Alejandro sat up slowly and rubbed his wrists. “Where’s Norland?”

  “Getting the horses.”

  Shaye uncovered the tray, revealing two plates of ham, scrambled eggs, baking powder biscuits, and two cups of coffee, black.

  She carried the tray to the bed and sat down, the tray between herself and Alejandro.

  “Hurry it up,” Norland said.

  “The doctor said he shouldn’
t be moved for a day or two.”

  “Tough.”

  “He needs to rest.”

  Dawson snorted derisively. “I ain’t wasting my time mollycoddling him. Ain’t no point in it anyways. He don’t have to be healthy to face the hangman. Just alive.”

  She stalled as long as she could. She took small bites, chewed each one carefully. When she finished eating, she informed Dawson that she needed to use the privy.

  “Go ahead on,” he said.

  She took as long as she dared in the privy, and when she returned to the hotel, Norland was there.

  She could hear Norland and Dawson arguing even before she went inside. “What the hell’s taking so long?”

  “That damn woman,” Dawson replied. “She’s more trouble than she’s worth.”

  She opened the door, putting an end to the argument. She insisted on giving Alejandro another dose of salicylate of sodium before they left; then tucked the remaining packets in her skirt pocket.

  “You ready now?” Dawson growled.

  She nodded, unable to think of any plausible excuse to delay their departure. Norland tied Alejandro’s hands and they left the hotel. Their horses were waiting outside.

  Alejandro took hold of the saddle horn. She saw him take a deep breath, and then, jaw clenched, he put one foot in the stirrup and pulled himself into the saddle. She shrieked as Dawson grabbed her around the middle and lifted her up behind Alejandro.

  She leaned forward, resting her cheek against Alejandro’s back, and tried not to think about what might be waiting for them in Bodie.

  It was slow going, what with Alejandro and Shaye riding double. With the sun beating down on her, Shaye felt as if she might turn into a puddle and slide over the horse’s rump. Sweat ran down her back and pooled between her breasts. She wished she had a hat, wished she was wearing her shorts and a tee shirt instead of a long-sleeved shirtwaist, a heavy skirt and petticoats.

  From time to time, she overheard bits and pieces of conversation between Dawson and Norland, who couldn’t agree on how to split the five hundred dollar reward. Dawson felt he was entitled to an extra cut, since he was the one who had told Norland that Alejandro was at the hideout. Norland felt he was entitled to a bigger share because he was the one who had told Dawson about the reward in the first place.

  She tightened her hold on Alejandro’s waist. She could almost feel Fate bearing down on them, had a terrible premonition that there was nothing she could do to keep Alejandro from hanging, just as she had been able to do nothing to prevent Daisy’s death. Despair settled on her shoulders. They would be back in Bodie all too soon. Alejandro would be tried and found guilty. Norland had said she was wanted, too. She doubted they would hang her for breaking Alejandro out of jail. There was, however, the very real possibility that they might hang her for horse stealing.

  They had been riding about three hours when Dawson drew rein beside Bodie Creek. Dismounting, he tossed his horse’s reins to Norland. “I need to piss, and the horses need a rest.”

  So saying, he walked downstream until he was out of sight behind some scrub brush.

  Shaye slid off the back of the horse. Alejandro dismounted slowly, grimacing as the movement tugged on his wound.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Sure, darlin’, no worries.”

  “I hate it when you say that, cause I know it means just the opposite.”

  He grinned at her. “Not much of a honeymoon, is it?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “Shaye, I’m fine. A little sore, that’s all.”

  She moved into the circle of his arms. With his hands bound, he couldn’t hold her, but she held onto him, finding reassurance in his nearness. Lowering his head, he brushed his lips across hers, a kiss that was no less potent for being butterfly soft and gentle. She looked up and saw everything she had ever dreamed of, wished for, yearned for, in the depth of his eyes.

  Lost in the moment, she was only dimly aware of Dawson leading the horses down to the creek, or Norland hovering behind them, one hand resting on his gun butt.

  “I love you,” she murmured.

  Alejandro nodded. “I know, darlin’.”

  Dawson swaggered up, leading the horses. “If you two love birds want a drink, you’d best get it now.” Shaye put her arm around Alejandro’s waist and they walked down to the creek. The water was clear and cold. Alejandro braced himself on his forearms and buried his face in the water. Shaye drank from her cupped hands. Rising, she took Alejandro’s arm and helped him to his feet.

  A short time later, they were riding again.

  They were about an hour away from Bodie when Norland’s horse pulled up lame.

  Dawson swore as he reined his horse to a halt. “You two, get down.”

  With a weary sigh, Alejandro climbed out of the saddle. Shaye slid over the animal’s rump, then moved to stand beside him. He had to get her away from here, but how?

  Dawson dismounted and walked over to Norland. “How bad is it?”

  “Stone bruise.”

  Dawson swore again.

  “Let’s rest him for an hour,” Norland suggested. “Maybe it’s not as bad as it looks.”

  “Maybe,” Dawson muttered.

  Alejandro lowered himself slowly to the ground, his back against a rock. The pain in his side ached like the fires of hell, aggravated by every movement he made. And riding was only making it worse. Shaye sat down beside him, her shoulder brushing his. He kept his expression carefully blank under her anxious scrutiny.

  Dawson and Norland hunkered down on their heels a short distance away.

  Alejandro leaned toward her, pretending to kiss her cheek. “Shaye,” he said quietly, “I don’t want you going back to Bodie.”

  “What?”

  “Shh.” He nuzzled her cheek. “You heard Norland. There’s paper on you, too. You need to get away from here.”

  “I’m not leaving you!”

  “Shaye, darlin’, listen to me.”

  “No! You listen to me. I’m not leaving.”

  He drew in a deep breath, admiring her loyalty, her stubbornness. She was a fighter, she was, no doubt about it. He swore softly. He couldn’t abide the thought of her being locked up because of him. Dammit! What was he going to do? And then it came to him, the one argument she might accept.

  “Darlin’, if we’re both locked up, neither one of us has a chance.”

  Her eyes widened. “I never thought of that.”

  He winked at her. “That’s why I’m the boss.” He laughed when she stuck her tongue out at him. “All right, now, listen, darlin’. This is what we’ll do…”

  Shaye didn’t like the idea one bit, but Alejandro was right. If they were both locked up, he was as good as dead. At his signal, she stood up and walked toward the creek where the horses were grazing on a patch of short grass.

  “Hey, where you going, girl?” Dawson called.

  Shaye paused and looked over her shoulder. “I need to take a leak,” she said, being purposefully vulgar in the hope that it would somehow keep him from suspecting her true motive.

  “Well, make it quick.”

  With a nod, she hurried toward a patch of brush and ducked behind it. A moment later, she heard Dawson’s voice.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  “I need to stretch my legs,” Alejandro replied.

  “You just stay where you are.”

  She peered through the brush. Alejandro had moved a few feet away from where they had been sitting. Dawson and Norland were both standing now, facing him. Dawson’s hand rested on his gun butt.

  “Maybe we can make a deal,” Alejandro said.

  “What kind of deal?” Dawson asked, and Shaye could hear the sneer in his voice.

  “I’ve got some money in the bank,” Alejandro said. “If you let us go, I’ll double the reward.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Wait a minute,” Norland said. “Let’s hear him
out.”

  Alejandro glanced past Norland. Meeting Shaye’s gaze, he nodded slightly.

  Taking a deep breath, she tiptoed out from behind the bushes. Using the lame horse for cover, she caught up the reins to the other two horses. Pulling herself into the saddle of the nearest one, she reined the horse around, slammed her heels into its sides, and took off running downstream.

  She heard Dawson shout, “What the hell!” followed by the sound of a gunshot. Was it her imagination, or had she felt the heat of the bullet streak past her cheek?

  She didn’t dare to look back. Bending low over the horse’s neck, she rode as if all the demons of hell were barking at her heels.

  Her horse was breathing hard and covered with sweat when she finally felt safe enough to stop. Leaning forward, she patted her horse’s sweaty neck, then wiped her hand off on her skirt. Well, part one had gone as planned. Now all she had to do was get back to Bodie, wait for Alejandro to show up, and bust him out of jail.

  Again.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Alejandro glanced out the coach window, though there was little to see but desert and sage and a brassy blue sky. Dawson and Norland had both been as mad as hell when Shaye took off with the horses. He grinned inwardly. The three of them had spent the night walking, with Dawson and Norland cussing a blue streak the whole way. It had been sheer luck that they’d been able to flag down a stage this morning, otherwise they would still be walking. He figured they would be in Bodie in another hour or so.

  Alejandro glanced from Dawson to Norland. He had offered them two thousand dollars each to let him go. Norland had jumped on the offer like a frog after a fly. Alejandro had little faith that they’d actually let him go, but there was always a chance, and it was the only chance he had.

  They were the last three to climb down from the coach. Dawson jammed his hat on Alejandro’s head. “Keep your head down,” he said brusquely. “We’ll go straight to the bank and get the money. Then you’re on your own.”

  Alejandro nodded. No one paid them any mind as they made their way down Main Street, which seemed even more crowded than he remembered. He wondered if Shaye had made it back to town, and, if so, where she was now.