“Looks like a child’s toy to me,” the older woman said contemptuously but to Mac’s relief, she subsided under Betsy’s restraining grip. Sometimes she forgot that Betsy had spent enough time in the modern world to know of its advances, if a super weapon like the one Silver held could be termed an advance.
“What do you want from us?” Betsy asked bluntly, her fierce gaze fixed on the stranger.
He smiled, ducking his head slightly in a kind of bow. “Mrs. Carr,” he said. “I have heard of you.”
Mac drew breath in quickly, glancing to Jerry’s stony face. The one thing he wouldn’t want Silver to know about was Betsy because Betsy would lead them straight to Lavender and its people. If Silver found their secluded little community then its peace would be destroyed.
To her surprise, Jerry didn’t seem worried. He matched Silver’s smile. “I can’t give you the key out of here,” he said, “but Betsy can. If I were you I’d be really nice to her. That is unless you’ve decided to set yourself up as a pioneer farmer in Korn.”
Betsy caught on quickly. “Best be nice to all of us,” she advised, “I tend to be real stubborn if anyone threatens my family and friends.”
The smile faded from Silver’s urbane face. “All I ask is to be taken along,” he said, putting the buzz gun into his pocket.
Jerry nodded and went back to harnessing the horses. “Help the ladies aboard, Silver,” he said.
They were more than a little crowded, the five of them in the small buggy, but Betsy took the reins, brushing her cousin aside, and headed them back toward the west. Mac leaned herself against Jerry’s shoulder and fell asleep.
Jerry looking down at Mac’s face, scratched and bruised as it was and with huge dark smudges under the closed eyes, thought she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. He felt a kind of yearning tenderness toward her and prayed he could get her back to safety and comfort.
He guessed Betsy was taking them back to Lavender, but wasn’t sure what she had in mind after that. They would still be in 1867, the Lavender before Grandpapa’s father had locked the community away. Silver would consider this a fraud; he still would be imprisoned in time, and would no doubt be enraged.
He had to come up with a plan. He peered through half-closed eyes at Silver. He seemed alert and wide awake, but if they had a long drive ahead of them—and Mac had said they were about fifty miles from Lavender—then he might get tired and even doze. That would be Jerry’s chance to go for that pocket that held the buzz gun.
In the tightly packed environment this would be a highly dangerous move and he guessed that he and Silver were closely matched when it came to strength and ability. He was a little younger; Silver was unquestionably more experienced at this kind of game. And if he ever got his finger on the buzz gun trigger, it would be all over. He would kill them all, except possibly Betsy, who he must now realize was his key to exit.
He didn’t entertain for a moment the idea that the weapon was only set to stun.
They had driven well into the morning when Betsy pulled the team to a halt. With the motion, Mac began to wake, seeming foggy and confused. “What’s going on?” she murmured softly.
Silver frowned. “Why are you stopping?” he queried Betsy sharply.
“Taking a rest,” she said, stretching and yawning. “For the horses and for us.”
“Why not continue on? Surely we’re nearly there by now.”
“Horses aren’t machines,” Jerry snapped. “They’ll collapse if you keep driving them. And as for being nearly there, it’s almost fifty miles to the next town.”
Silver shrugged. “Only fifty miles?”
Jerry laughed. “Fifty miles in horse and buggy days is a whole lot further than we’re used to, Silver. And this is rough country.”
“And just where are we going?” Silver asked suspiciously. “If you’re trying to play some sort of trick on me, Caldecott . . .”
“We’re going to a little neighboring town called Lavender,” Betsy spoke up quickly. “That’s where we’ll find the portal.”
Obviously the name Lavender meant something to Silver. He subsided, still frowning, but waved Betsy out. He allowed them to take necessary visits into the nearby shrubbery, one at a time, keeping his weapon on the others as insurance for each return. When he took his own break, he took Jerry with him and the gun went with them.
He watched while the horses were allowed to drink from a nearby creek and were fed from the supply of grain Betsy had obtained from town, but refused to remain at rest long enough for them to consume their own meal from among the supplies Betsy and Mrs. Myers had bargained for in Korn. They ate dried meat and fruit as they moved on again, Jerry at the reins this time.
Silver chewed his own food as though it were distasteful and seated himself next to the still fragile McKinley in an obvious threat to any attempt Jerry might make to escape. Jerry got the message, his throat dry. In case of trouble, his little love would be the first at risk. Mac, drowsy and pale, seemed only vaguely aware of what was going on and when she once more fell asleep, rested her head against Silver’s shoulder.
They were forced to stop at nightfall as the horses moved more and more slowly and were at risk of journey-ended accident in the thickly wooded country.
Jerry allowed himself to sleep, lying on the ground between the women and Silver, knowing every bit of rest he could get would provide one up on the other man, who would not dare to close his eyes. Every now and then, he would awaken only to see the other man still watchful, his tiny weapon close at hand.
Damn, but the man must be made of iron. At the dawning, he awakened them all, allowed the necessary solitary visits into the woods and the care of the horses, then watched as Jerry put the animals back in harness and hitched them to the buggy.
He continued to be alert as they drove on, but seemed increasingly irritable, frowning suspiciously at them all and speaking hardly at all.
Chapter Twenty Three
Mac woke from a dream of eating Mrs. Myers’ special blackberry cobbler with cream and realized that for the first time in many hours she was feeling clear-headed and free of pain. And she was hungry.
Realizing she’d been asleep with her head against that nasty Mr. Silver’s shoulder, she straightened cautiously, surprised she hadn’t been having nightmares.
Quickly she took stock of her situation, stepping out of the fog that had submerged her brain. Jerry, dear Jerry, drove the team and everybody else in the buggy, slumped in what looked like very uncomfortable positions, slept. She twisted cautiously to look at the man on her left side. Even Constantine Silver was asleep, his mouth gaping and his sense of poise completely leaked away.
Then she saw it. The buzz gun. It had slipped from his grasp and onto the floor in front of her. Slowly and with extreme cautiousness, she moved forward on her seat, reaching her hand toward that fearful object.
Once Silver started and she thought he would awaken and probably shoot her. But he’d stayed awake for a long time and he and everyone else remained in the land of unconsciousness. She even wondered if Jerry, facing away from her as he drove the team was halfway asleep, operating only on automatic pilot. Certainly he didn’t seem aware of what she was doing.
Heart beating wildly, she closed her hands around the small metallic object, careful to keep her fingers from touching the trigger and accidentally blowing them up. She had little experience with weapons of any kind, other than to know that police carried modified versions of this gun, powered to bring down opponents, either by sedating or slaying them. But she knew also, as did much of the public did, that there were super versions that could explode city blocks, weapons of terrorism and war. She knew this was probably what Silver carried. She grasped the gun and brought it up to safety against her chest. Still Silver was so much stronger than she; he could easily take it away from her. Quickly she tucked it under the cushion on which she sat, determined to dispose of it at first opportunity. Then, deciding that would be the fir
st place Silver would look, she pulled it out again and, very cautiously, inched out of her seat enough to lean past Mrs. Myers on her right side to the little opening that served as window and tossed the little gray gun out into the tall grass outside. Then she went back to her seat, breathing more easily only when she was back in place. She closed her eyes, realizing she’d had no choice but to toss the terrible little modern weapon into this Texas that lay in its distant past. Hopefully time would bury it in the soil so that no one would ever find it again.
Considerable time passed before Jerry stirred across from her, his back straightening abruptly as though he’d realized he’d been letting the horses find their own way across countryside that had changed from woods to spreading meadows. How long had she lingered in that half-conscious world where her head wound had sent her? From the changing terrain, she guessed they must be moving close to Lavender. Not her Lavender, of course, but the one where Grandpapa’s papa lived just after the civil war had ended.
As though aware of Jerry’s revival, Silver woke with a sudden alarmed start. With nearly closed eyes, she watched as he reached for his gun, groped through their coverings for it, then leaned forward to search the floor.
She saw the instant when he realized it was actually gone and looked suspiciously in Jerry’s direction. At first she thought he would launch into attack, but he was an intelligent man; he quickly understood that whoever held the gun now held power.
A forced smile made slight indentation on his face. “We must be getting close,” he said. “We’ve been traveling for an eternity now.”
Almost simultaneously the others awoke and Mac, stretching and yawning, appeared to do the same, comfortable in the knowledge that Ron Silver no longer held a super weapon to use against them. As for the fact that she had left it in the tall grass in a spot somewhere between Korn and Lavender was something she would leave to a future she hoped to live to see.
Now, before they reached their destination, she had one other matter to clarify. She yawned again, deliberately this time, then with her most innocent expression asked, “Mr. Silver, can you tell us the truth about what happened to Herman Myers. “ She felt Mrs. Myers on her right side shift slightly. She needed finally to have the answer as to her young husband’s fate.
Betsy frowned at Mac as though to caution her not to anger Silver. Mac ignored her friend, wishing she could tell her that worry was at an end. But she knew that every inch they drove away from the hidden gun was significant. If Silver had any idea that the gun was no longer within the buggy, he would order an immediate stop and begin to search.
Silence deepened among the passengers as each analyzed the situation and what they must see as Mac’s incendiary statement. Finally Silver smirked at her. “What makes you think I know?”
“You do,” Mac said with assurance. “The last Jerry knew he was being recaptured by your men. And now you say he’s dead. How do you know?”
Silver sighed dramatically and Mac guessed he was buying time while he figured out who held the buzz gun hidden on his or her person. Finally he spoke, “I’ve said that what happened to Myers was none of my doing.”
“He was a family member of mine,” Mrs. Myers said gently. “I’m not trying to make a judgement, but I need to know what happened to Herman.”
Mac almost thought his gaze softened ever so slightly. “Your son, ma’am?” he asked.
Regret flickered across Esther Myers’ face. “Not exactly,” she said, “but we were close.”
Mac reached out to press her hand within her own. “Just tell us the truth,” she insisted. “She needs to know.” She didn’t add that Mrs. Myers had spent a lifetime wondering what had happened to her husband.
“I came here alone and hired locals to help me do my job. They exceeded my instructions and when Myers came unexpectedly back to his home, he fought against their attempts to subdue him and was critically injured. That and his attempt to escape were too much. He was close to death when they took him away. When they returned, they told me they’d put him down not far from this town called Lavender. Even as they watched, he crawled away from them, calling his wife’s name. ‘Esther,’ they said he kept saying. And when they tried to follow him. . .” He shrugged as though trying to explain the unexplainable. “They said he just disappeared, was swallowed up , taking two big birds with him.”
He shrugged again. “Didn’t make much sense. If you ask me they were just covering up the fact that they’d disposed of him.”
Betsy spoke in a soft voice, her gaze fixed on her feet on the floor. “It’s the same pattern. A dying man, he reached out to the person he loved most and passed through time in trying to get to her.”
Betsy was saying that by some basic instinct, Herman had been drawn to 1913 Lavender where his Esther, decades older, still lived. Beyond reason and all obstacles, he’d tried to find her once more.
Funny, she thought, glancing at the woman at her right. She’d never imagined the indomitable Mrs. Myers as crying, but now silent tears slid down her aging face.
Even when you’re old, she thought. Even when you’re nearing the end of your years, love is still there, the most significant thing.
She looked up to meet Jerry’s eyes. He’d turned slightly to look at her. She swallowed hard, only able to hope that their love for each other would follow a happier road than that of her friend. But then at least Esther and Herman had a few years and two daughters together. There was sure no guarantee for her and Jerry.
He turned back to keep his eyes on the road ahead and they continued on toward Lavender, the road ahead beginning to be more than just a trail as they approached the older, more established community.
By late afternoon the weary horses pulled the buggy past farmsteads she recognized from the trip out and she knew they were approaching the Lavender that Dr. Stephens had not yet hidden away in time.
Jerry Caldecott was well aware that he was expendable. Once Silver accepted that not he, but Betsy was the answer to his escape from the past, he would be eliminated. Curiously that possibility didn’t frighten him, but was liberating. The safety of the others, his McKinley, Mrs. Myers and Betsy depended on him. And even Lavender itself, that special and vulnerable little community, must not fall into the hands of Silver and his cohorts who would use the knowledge of a whole community closed away in a pocket of time as another, significant weapon of war.
For several years now he had stood along side Zan, Eddie and those with them who fought to see new technology used to develop energy and conveniences used for the betterment of people and their protection from the excesses of those bent on sending the planet deeper into chaos. He could well imagine what they would do with this new knowledge.
Dr. Stephens’s attempt to prevent an epidemic would turn into a weapon that would shelter armies that would go out to attack and capture, retreating to the safety of other times. Not only the modern world would be threatened, but the whole of the past.
His life counted for little when weighed against such odds. He was glad to risk it just for these three women he loved, but when he counted everything at stake, he knew he should be grateful for the opportunity that lay before him.
Now, his eyes gritty from lack of sleep, he knew the time drew near when the confrontation must occur. His gaze fixed on the narrow dirt road ahead, mentally urging the exhausted horses to cover the few miles that lay ahead, he tried to plan.
He was aware of where each of the women sat, all of them awake and alert now. All he had to do was take that gun from Silver without killing them all. A simple task. Inwardly he chuckled at his audaciousness. The buzz gun had changed America, reducing the arms cherished by many of its people for self protection to little more than pop guns. Tiny, easily concealed, and usable at various levels of strength, it was a fearful weapon that had been developed from a toy Zan had created when he was still a boy. His cousin’s husband spent his life now in trying to undo damage he’d inadvertently done when he’d been a tool of his bro
ther and hawkish men anxious only to defeat all enemies and make themselves incredibly wealthy in the process.
He could not ask the women how they would vote at this moment. He had the choice of going after Silver now while they were still out in the open and that explosive little gun would only take them out. If he were successful and could kill Silver, there would be no one left to make use of that weapon. Lavender now and in the future would be safe from that particular threat.
Dr. Stephens would be left to create the newly protected Lavender, a place of peace and normalcy which Jerry was beginning to see as the modern world’s only hope. He would be leaving that future in better hands than his own: Dr. Stephens, Zan and Eddie, his own parents and other relatives, the good people of the little town who had once voted to set themselves aside rather than spread deadly illness to their neighbors, he could trust them with the future.
And as he thought of the women in the buggy—dear Mrs. Myers who had been through so much, sweet golden-haired Betsy, and his own true love, little Mac, he had no doubt how they would vote now in the face of this new risk.
The attempt to take out Silver must happen in the next few minutes.
Chapter Twenty Four
Peering out, Mac could see the outlines of the little town ahead. The tired horses, having pulled desperately to get the buggy up the high hill that looked down on Lavender, had stalled almost to a stop as they began to creep downward, their ears flat and their sides damp with sweat.
She knew she wasn’t the only one aware that their destination was in sight. Mrs. Myers’ mouth was pinched into a tight line as she faced what lay ahead, but Betsy’s blue eyes were wide with excitement. Mac wondered if she was thinking she’d soon be with her husband and babies. Little Emilee and Ben were no doubt getting anxious to see their mother and Caleb must be worried to death.
She swallowed hard, choking down her own fears. They would be all right, but only she knew that they no longer had to fear the buzz gun, but just Silver himself. He looked youngish—somewhere in his early thirties she would guess—and strong. But she placed her confidence in Jerry to overcome.
Missing in Lavender: A Time Travel Romance (Lavender, Texas series Book 6) Page 15
