Missing in Lavender: A Time Travel Romance (Lavender, Texas series Book 6)

by Barbara Bartholomew

  The world tilted and spun when he saw the dirty, scratched face looking back at him. McKinley. What was she doing here?

  She spoke before he could. “My name is Susan Blakely,” she said desperately. “Susan.”

  He nodded. “Susan Blakely,” he reinforced. He looked over her head to see Constantine Silver grinning wickedly.

  “Susan has been injured in a buggy accident. We’re hoping you can help us.”

  Numbly he opened the door more than the original inch he’d allowed and nodded to them to step through. Mac managed a step or two, then collapsed in his arms. He caught her before she could fall to the ground and carried her inside. Silver followed.

  “Good Lord!” Esther exclaimed. “What’s wrong with the girl?”

  “She hit her head when her buggy lost a wheel and crashed into a tree,” Silver explained suavely. He took off his hat and nodded to his reluctant hostess, ignoring the rest of them. “Mrs. Myers, knowing you lived nearby, I thought you would be willing to see to the young lady. I’m sure she would be more comfortable in the hands of someone of her gender.”

  Esther looked confused as though he were speaking an unfamiliar language and she had to translate. “Certainly,” she said and began bustling about, directing Jerry to place the girl on her overstuffed sofa and briefly leaving the room to return with a small aromatic object that she waved under Mac’s nose.

  McKinley came to consciousness abruptly, coughing and wheezing over the spirits of ammonia to which she’d been exposed. “What the hell . . . ,” she started to ask, then seeing the unfamiliar audience around her, choked off the comment that was no doubt extremely improper for a young lady of this time.

  “How are you feeling, Susan?” Jerry asked in hurried reminder, knowing that she was anxious Silver not know her true identity.

  “Better,” she said doubtfully, “though my head still hurts.”

  “We’ll look after you,” Esther contributed, trying to smile. “And for heaven’s sake, Bud, put down that gun. Miss Blakely is certainly no threat to us.”

  With that, she took charge, directing her neighbor to go into the kitchen for water and clean cloths. When he’d gone on the errand, she turned her attention to the outsider. “Mr. Silver, you can safely leave her to our care. Please feel free to continue to wherever you were going.”

  Silver stared at her for a moment in decidedly unfriendly fashion before nodding. “I’ll be nearby if you need assistance, Mrs. Myers,” he finally said with cold politeness and with Jerry as usher, departed the house. Jerry latched it behind him.

  So the ante was upped. He knew well enough that Silver had left confident that the woman who identified herself as Susan was just one more person whose well-being hung in the balance of whether Jerry decided to help him escape this prison in time.

  The minutes were dripping away and he only wished he knew how to cast Constantine Silver out of 1867 Korn, Texas.

  Mac found it hard to plot and plan when her head ached and her brain seemed largely absent. How could she be scared to death one minute and in the next fairly bouncing with joy because the man she loved was alive and well in the next room?

  She managed somehow to sit still while Esther Myers bathed and medicated the bump on her forehead and coaxed her to drink a half glass of water. She wanted to request a pain reliever, but wasn’t sure if aspirin, much less more recent such medicines even existed. When Esther offered her a dose of laudanum, she was at least aware enough to refuse. She didn’t need to be put to sleep!

  “It’ll make you feel better,” one of the two small girls urged her. “Mama gives it to me for the earache.”

  Mac managed a smile. She knew these two must be Ruth and Laura, the two daughters Mrs. Myers had lost in early adulthood during the flu epidemic. She felt so sad to see how close the three were, knowing the tragedy that lay ahead. One of these girls would have been mother to her friend Dottie, who helped out at the Crockett Street home.

  Still she refused the drug, telling herself she had to stay aware if she was to protect Mrs. Myers and her daughters from the dangers around them. She frowned at the thought. Maybe she could draw comfort from the fact that she knew the girls would live to grow up and that Mrs. Myers herself was on her way to the little town of Korn to arrange repairs to the buggy they’d borrowed.

  Even if her head wasn’t already aching, this would be enough to shoot streaks of pain through it. She had little idea how this time travel thing worked. Maybe nothing they did here could change the future. Or maybe they could alter everything.

  “I’ve feeling much better,” she said, pushing away the brown bottle. “And if you don’t mind, I’ll like to talk to Mr. Caldecott.”

  “Who? Oh, you mean Bud’s friend. You’re acquainted?”

  “Cousins,” she adlibbed hastily. “We were on our way to visit him when we lost the wheel on the buggy.”

  “And the rest of your family?” Mrs. Myers urged. “Were they hurt as well? And why did they not come with you?”

  It was hard enough to figure out what had happened to herself. She hardly knew what explanation to make up for the woman. “My sister and my aunt were with me. They took our horses and rode on to get help.”

  Delicate eyebrows arched upward. “Leaving you all by yourself?”

  “I wasn’t up to travel. I’m sure they’ll get back as soon as possible.”

  “But was there no man with you to drive and look after your safety? You were only three women driving through such unsettled country as lies to the west of us?”

  “Only us,” Mac agreed, conscious that what she confessed would seem almost unbelievable to the other woman and amused at the thought that one of those three would be herself at a much later age. No doubt things had changed a lot in Esther Myers’ lifetime, even in secluded Lavender. And Esther was one of those who had caused change by the way she rose to independence to support herself and her daughters and to become a leader in her community. And all that had happened after she’d been virtually run out of her home by the gossip about her role in her husband’s death.

  Mac reached out a pleading hand. “Please let me talk to Jerry,” she begged. “Just the two of us alone.”

  The woman hesitated. “He’s not your cousin, is he?”

  Mac shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

  Mrs. Myers called into the other room. “Jerry,” she said. “Come here please.”

  When Jerry immediately entered the room, she gave him an examining look as though suspecting his attentions. “If you need me, just call,” she told McKinley and then, her daughters ushered in front of her, left the room, though Mac noticed the door was not entirely closed.

  She found tears forming in her eyes. “You’re alive,” she whispered. “I was so afraid.”

  He knelt at her bedside. “Oh, Mac, my darling. What are you doing here?”

  She felt surprise at the tone of reproach in his voice. “We came to help you,” she defended herself. “Of course.”

  “But now I have to worry about your safety. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”

  She drew back, astounded. Didn’t he understand how fearful she’d been for him? “But now we’re together, Jerry; whatever happens we can work through it.”

  “Silver has a buzz gun,” he said bluntly. “He could wipe out the whole community if we make the wrong move. We have to be so careful to keep these innocent people safe.”

  “Well, I guess I can help!”

  He gave a little moan, half laughter, half pain, then gently pulled her into his arms. “I love you so much,” he whispered against her tousled hair.

  Apparently all the time Mrs. Myers could allow had passed because before they realized it, she stood just behind Jerry. “You,” she said, giving his shoulder a poke. “Bud needs to talk to you. He says we’ve got to figure out what to do.”

  Reluctantly Jerry pressed a kiss against her cheek and rose to his feet. “Rest,” he advised sternly and left the room.
r />   The little girls were no longer clinging to their mother. “Where are Ruth and Laura?” Mac asked in sudden alarm.

  “I sent them to bed. They’re already shaken by everything that’s happened and Ruth was crying for her daddy. She was always a daddy’s girl,” Mrs. Myers’ tone was steady, but there was a bleakness in her gaze that stirred an echoing pain within Mac. She’d already guessed at the strength within her friend, but this was something amazing. Well, she would show Jerry Caldecott that she was capable of nothing less than Esther Myers’ kind of courage.

  Trailing the quilt that she wrapped around her, she climbed awkwardly from bed and, Mrs. Myers protesting, led the way into the other room where Jerry was huddled with that funny little white-bearded man he called Bud. If there was going to be a council of war, she intended to take part in it.

  She tried to convince herself that her head didn’t ache quite as much and she was feeling better as she seated herself in the wooden rocker, thankfully cushioned with home-made pillows, a comfortable nest, and watched the others find their places.

  Esther, never a beauty but with a dignity that was more than good looks, took a kitchen chair and placed it on the side of the little room closest to her daughters as though to make sure they were safe. Bud, his shotgun near at hand, straddled another chair, looking like a short-legged aging cowboy in this makeshift saddle while this new bearded, grubby Jerry stood between the others and the door and she knew he had braced himself for further intrusions.

  “We have brought you terrible luck by coming here,” Jerry began, looking straight at Mrs. Myers as he began the talk. “Because your home was invaded and your husband was here and tried to help me, bad things happened.”

  He avoided saying that Myers was dead, Mac noticed, but they all knew what he was talking about. She of all of them knew that Herman Myers had indeed passed from life at a distant time in Lavender. How he’d come to be there was something they might never know. “It wasn’t your fault,” she protested. “You were a prisoner, brought here against your will.”

  Bud nodded. “I reckon that’s the way I see it. That slippery Silver has to take credit for what happened to Herman and what we need to think about now is how to keep everybody safe and get rid of him once and for all.”

  “But why?” Esther jumped into the conversation. “Why did that man bring you here?” she managed to ask without calling Jerry by name. She was still suspicious of him, Mac guessed, not knowing that he had been from youth one of those she considered ‘her’ kids, dear to her as her own biological grandchildren. “Is he a criminal?”

  “Not legally,” Jerry said. “He comes under state sanction as serving one of our great nations, but morally . . .let’s just say he makes an alarming enemy.”

  Mac watched the other two react to Jerry’s rather confusing answer. The language he spoke of states and legalities versus morality didn’t make sense to them. Esther raised her eyebrows questioningly while Bud cut deep wrinkles in his face with his frown.

  “The way I see it,” the old man spoke first, “he killed my friend and seems to have unfriendly intent toward the rest of us. I reckon we’d better shoot first and straight.” He nodded in the direction of his shotgun.

  “I wish it were that simple.” Jerry, who seemed to be unaware that they were all waiting for what he had to say, finally stirred to speak. “But I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave this one to me, Bud. If I’m removed from the equation, the rest of you will be safe. So I’m asking you to stay here and see to Mrs. Myers and the others while I take care of things.”

  Bud frowned, shook his head, and started to speak, but Jerry didn’t give him the opportunity.

  “Silver has a secret weapon, Bud. Something able to make nothing of that shotgun of yours and which could take out everybody in Korn.”

  Bud looked as though he choked over this bit of information. “How can you fight him then? You ain’t all that good with a gun.”

  “I have something else to use. I have something he wants or at least he thinks I do. I’m going to lead the chase and I’m fairly sure he will follow. All I ask from the rest of you is that you stay here and keep safe so that he can’t use you as a weapon against me.”

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Mac opened her mouth to argue that she wouldn’t be left behind. But before she could utter a word, Jerry motioned to her with one uplifted hand. “Come on, McKinley. You’ll have to go with me.”

  Trying not to look shaky, she moved obediently past him, knowing he wouldn’t insist she leave with him if there was any other option. “Take care, Mrs. Myers,” she said by way of goodbye. “Maybe you’ll be safe once we’re gone.”

  “Silver will have no further interest in them,” Jerry agreed grimly, “he’ll be too busy chasing after us. No matter, Bud, you stay here with them and keep your shotgun handy for a day or two. By then we should have led him away and you can go back to your normal lives.” He glanced at Esther Myers, “As much as you can. I’m so sorry about Herman.”

  She looked at him questioningly. “You’re sure he’s dead?”

  “Pretty sure. As sure as I can be.” His expression and voice conveyed so much more in the way of caring than the simple words. “The best we can do for you and your girls right now is to put distance between us so you’re no longer a target.”

  He turned, took Mac by the arm and led her outside, waiting only until he heard the closing of the latch inside before leading her away.

  “How will we find this Mr. Silver?” she whispered.

  “We won’t have to. He’ll find us,” his tone was grim, but the arm with which he held her so tightly felt warm and loving. “That’s why we have to hurry.”

  “But where are we going?”

  “That’s up to you. I was kidnapped and brought here. I knew the way in, but not the way out. Only Zan knows that. But you must have the way back or you couldn’t have come. It’s up to you to find the way out.”

  She stumbled and would have fallen if he hadn’t caught her, swinging her up into his arms and continuing to stride ahead, moving toward the shelter of the wooded area west of the barn.

  “Put me down,” she demanded. “You can’t carry me all the way.”

  “Can and will,” he asserted. “You sure can’t walk, not with your head all banged up.”

  Her stomach lurching within her, she didn’t try to speak for a moment. When she did it was to say, “Go back to where the buggy wrecked.”

  He didn’t ask why, but simply listened closely as, best as she could remember, she gave him directions to where she’d left the buggy.

  “Maybe they’re back by now,” she said. “I’m sure they’d hurry to get repairs made. They won’t know what to think when they find me gone.”

  “They?” he asked, a big strong man who seemed to be carrying her slight form effortlessly. “They who?”

  “Betsy and Mrs. Myers. We came together and you know Betsy is the only one who can get us out of here.”

  He went silent for so long, she finally questioned, “Jerry?”

  He bent to give her a kiss. “The abilities of my cousin never cease to amaze me.”

  It wasn’t a long walk and feeling a kind of security in being held in his arms, she almost wished it were longer. Her stomach settled and the ache in her forehead retreated. After a while she told him she felt able to walk, but he only said, “We’re almost there.”

  “Silver?”

  “I’m sure he’s following. But that’s what we want. How far do we have to travel to get out of here?”

  “It’s fifty miles to Lavender and the way out.”

  He nodded, but didn’t say anything else.

  The rising sun began to cast its light through the trees by the time they reached the buggy. To Mac’s surprise, it stood, somewhat battered, but on its own wheels.

  Nobody seemed to be stirring around it, neither her friends or any workers, but when Jerry set her down on her own feet, he called. “Bets? Mrs. Myers?�
� and his golden-haired cousin came creeping out of the greenery. “Jerry!” she whispered a soft exclamation and rushed to give him a hug before turning to Mac. “Thank heavens, you’re all right.”

  “We didn’t know what to think when we found you gone,” Mrs. Myers stepped out, gazing happily at both of them. “And you managed to rescue Jerry.”

  “It was more of a mutual rescue,” Mac assured her, “but we must hurry. We’ve got to get out ahead of him.”

  Without explaining who ‘he’ was, she pushed Betsy rather forcefully toward two horses, which were not the ones they’d originally brought. “Hitch the horses. Let’s head back to Lavender.”

  Betsy frowned. “But wait, tell us what happened. We’ve been busy all night persuading a gallant gentlemen that he had to come out here and help us and handing over some of the good doctor’s gold for the work and an exchange of horses . . .”

  “No time for explanations,” Jerry broke in, stamping over to hitch the horses to the buggy himself. “Mac’s right. We need to get out of here.”

  “With one extra passenger,” the cool, cultured voice spoke from behind them and Jerry whirled, his gun out, only to face a Constantine Silver who calmly extended the small shiny weapon that was of a type that made such as Jerry carried almost obsolete in the 21st century.

  He holstered his gun, recognizing the hopelessness of any confrontation between the two guns.

  “If you’re about to make your departure, I’m sure you will have no problem with taking me along, Mr. Caldecott. Or, if it’s more convenient, you can simply give me directions as to how to accomplish that goal for myself.”

  “Just who do you think you are?” Mrs. Myers demanded furiously, moving toward the intruder.

  Betsy grabbed her arm to hold her in place. “No!” she shouted. “That’s a buzz gun he’s holding.”