"Well, I just hope Rob Cameron isn't one of them," Paige exclaimed, and bristled when Myles gave her an inscrutable look. "She had her eye on Rob. And he's so innocent and honest, I'd be furious if she deceived him that way."
"Put your mind at rest, Paige. Innocent Rob Cameron is quite safe," Myles said in a dry tone.
They forgot about Lulu and Rob as well as they spread their blanket and set out the ample lunch Myles had cajoled the cook at the barracks into preparing.
It was a blistering hot July day, and Paige was sweating from the long ride. "Myles, are you coming swimming? That water's too good to waste."
"Of course I am." He began to unbutton his tunic.
"Great. Last one in's a rotten egg." She shucked off her blouse and within moments, the rest of her clothing lay in a heap on the grass.
It felt delicious to be naked in the open air. She ran and dived, squealing when she hit the cold water. Myles was only seconds behind her, half drowning her with his shallow dive, grabbing her and ducking her under the water, and then kissing her before she could surface.
"I hope you realize I'm breaking regulations by being out of uniform and away from my weapon," he joked.
"I won't tell if you won't."
They played like children and their laughter and teasing voices filled the quiet air.
Paige had been swimming on her back. She flopped over, glanced toward the horses, and gave a little scream.
Four Indians, all men, were sitting quietly astride their horses, watching the goings-on in the pool. They were only yards from the tumbled heaps of clothing—and from Myles's handgun and rifle.
"Easy, Paige." Myles had seen them too. He kept his body between the Indians and Paige.
"My God, Myles, what are we going to do? They're right beside our clothes. And—and there's four of them." Paige knew she sounded hysterical and didn't care. "Are they— are they going to—"
Visions of rape and murder made her shudder. "Myles, I'm scared."
"Let me handle it." Myles called out to them in their guttural language, and one of the men answered at some length.
"They're not a war party, I don't think they mean us any harm," he said when the conversation ended. "They've been out hunting, and heard us carrying on. I think they're just curious."
He was doing his best to reassure her, but Paige saw how intently he watched as the men hobbled their ponies and dismounted, squatting on their heels on the grass.
"Curious, hell. They're—they're bloody perverts." Her teeth had started to chatter from both fear and the icy water. "Can't you just tell them to go away? Or turn their backs while I get out?"
She was stark naked and the four men didn't look as though they were going to be polite and ride into the sunset just so she could get out of the water with her modesty intact.
"Myles, can't you do something to get rid of them?"
"We're not in the best of bargaining positions, darling." There was irony in his voice. "We're just going to have to brazen this out. I'll get out of the water and put on my breeches and holster. Then I'll hold up the blanket and you make a run for it."
Paige had never felt more alone than she did during the next few moments. Myles did as he'd said, not hurrying, walking out of the water casually, nodding and saying something to the men as he pulled on his pants and buckled on his sidearm.
She saw him move the food to one side and lift the blanket. She swam to the shallows, aware of four pairs of eyes on her. Myles waded into the water and shielded her with his body as she stood.
"Smile and be polite, my love," Myles said in a low tone as he wrapped the blanket around her and guided her up on the grass. "I'm afraid we're about to have company for lunch."
Paige didn't feel at all like smiling. She gave the Indians a dirty look, snatched her clothing up, and went behind a clump of bushes to struggle into it. When she came out, the Indians were wolfing down the food, talking to Myles in long, staccato bursts as the cold roast beef sandwiches, apples, and cookies disappeared in rapid succession.
They paid no attention to her, but they consumed every scrap of the lunch, and Paige grew increasingly hungry and bored as the afternoon wore on and the Indians showed no signs of leaving. Their conversation with Myles went on and on, and Paige moved some distance away and slumped down with her back against a poplar.
In the late afternoon, the air became heavy and suffocating, and the sky to the north turned a muddy brown color. Thunder rolled ominously, and a few drops of rain landed on Paige's face.
As if it were a signal, the Indians suddenly got up, mounted their ponies, each raising a hand in farewell to Myles, and rode off.
"Thank God," Paige sighed, trying to struggle to her feet. "My rear end's asleep," she complained. "I thought they were going to be with us the rest of our lives. And they ate every last scrap of food, and I'm starving. And now it's going to rain." She knew she sounded petulant, but their day together had been thoroughly ruined, and she was disappointed.
"What on earth were you talking about with them all that time?"
Myles came over and took her hands, hauling her to her feet. "I'm sorry, but there was nothing else to do but hear them out. They're Cree, from Big Bear's reserve." He frowned and shook his head, his voice both angry and sad. "They were telling me the same story all the Indians tell these days, about the lack of buffalo, the shame of being trapped on a reserve instead of roaming free and hunting the way they've always done, and now the pain and anger of watching their families starve because the white man's government doesn't keep its promises to feed and clothe them. It's a bad business, there's going to be rebellion—"
A loud clap of thunder and a dramatic flash of lightning made Paige yelp and sent her scurrying into his arms. An instant later, rain came sheeting down in torrents, and Myles grabbed the blanket and raced with her for the dubious shelter of the poplars. They were both soaked to the skin even before they reached the trees.
Myles draped the blanket around them and cradled her in his arms, trying to protect her from the worst of the deluge. "We'll just have to wait this out too. God damn it to hell." He swore, a long, steady stream of curses that amazed her— he hardly ever swore in front of her. "I wanted things to be perfect today, and instead, you're cold and wet and hungry, and we're still two hours' ride from home." His voice was dejected.
"Well, it could be worse," she said, trying for optimism. Her arms were wrapped around his comforting warmth, and being held close against him wasn't really hardship. “They could have taken our clothes, you know."
The mental image of riding back to Battleford like Lady Godiva suddenly made her giggle. A similar thought must have occurred to Myles, because he started laughing as well.
A moment later he bent his head and kissed her, and after a time, they slid down to the grass. Somehow his pants became undone, and her underwear slid off, and the blanket stayed wrapped snugly around them. The rain stopped, but they didn't notice.
The storm rolled off to the west at last, and they started the long ride home.
Damp, thoroughly disheveled, bone tired, and famished, Paige tried to take her mind off the immediate physical discomfort and forget exactly how far she was going to have to ride to get home tonight.
Instead, she thought about the things that had happened that day, about the Indians and the way they'd talked for hours to Myles, about how they were being treated, about the stupidity of the government and what Myles had said about trouble brewing. She remembered Armand's face when he told her his land was gone.
She thought of the news broadcasts on television in her other life, the more sophisticated but still similar problems the native people had complained of, and she felt guilty, remembering how little attention she'd paid to any of it. She hadn't known any Indians in those days, or any Métis either.
Since coming here, she'd heard talk of the trouble the railroad was causing as it invaded the native people's lands, and Tahny had made reference to the problems her people w
ere having on the reserves, but again, Paige had been caught up with her own struggles and hadn't really paid all that much attention.
Myles had said it would come to rebellion.
A long ago history lesson filtered into her consciousness, and she suddenly reined Minnie in so unexpectedly the little mare reared, almost unseating Paige.
"What is it?" Myles scanned the landscape, hand on his gun, anticipating trouble.
"The rebellion. God, Myles, I just remembered, I can't believe I didn't think of this before." She stared at him, wide-eyed. "It's because I was always so bad at history, and I've stopped paying attention to the date anyway." Her words tumbled out, and she stammered with the need to warn him.
"Myles, it happened just the way you said. There was a rebellion, a huge fight, the Indians and the Métis against the whites. It was about the same things those Indians today were talking about, lack of food, their land being taken over, the government not keeping its promises. It was led by a man named Louis Riel, a great folk hero."
"Riel?" Myles was holding Major in check, close beside her. He frowned at her. "I know of Riel; he led an insurrection at Red River in 1869, long before I joined the force. You're sure that skirmish isn't what you're thinking of?"
Paige wasn't sure. Her recollection of dates and events was atrocious. "Was there a battle at a place called Batoche at that time? I remember something about a battle of Batoche, led by Riel."
Myles stared at her. "There's been no battle at Batoche. Batoche is a Métis village, built along the Saskatchewan River, about a hundred miles east of Battleford."
Paige clucked to Minnie, and they set off again. "I know he was hanged for his part in the rebellion," she remarked.
"Who was hanged?" Myles was riding close beside her.
"Louis Riel. He was hanged as a traitor, but in later years he became a Canadian hero." She was racking her brain, trying to remember more details, but they eluded her. "There was a stamp with his picture on it."
"Riel is very much alive, Paige. He's spent the last few years in Beauport Asylum, near Montreal. His mind is deranged."
"I remember that he was thought to be schizophrenic, there was something about him riding around naked on a white horse in the midst of the battle." She thought for a moment. "But if he's still alive, then that couldn't have been the rebellion I'm talking about, that one at Red River, could it? Because I know for sure that he was hanged after the rebellion. They named it the Riel Rebellion, after him."
"When, Paige? What was the date of this rebellion?" She tried to remember and couldn't. "I think it was in the spring," she said vaguely. "In the 1800s, in the spring."
Exasperated, Myles swore under his breath. "It would help if you'd paid more attention in class."
Paige scowled at the acerbic note in his voice. "Come off it, Myles, it was history, for God's sake," she snapped. "It was boring as hell, all those dates and battles. I memorized enough to pass the exam and then forgot it all. Why, even in my worst nightmares, I never dreamed I'd end up back here living through it."
Myles mouth tightened. "So that's all this is to you? A nightmare, Paige? Some kind of living hell?"
She was tired, hungry, and out of sorts. "There are definitely times like right now when it feels like it, yes," she said flippantly.
He reached over and grabbed Minnie's bridle, yanking both horses to a stop. Paige almost fell off again, and when she regained her balance she stared at him, her eyes narrowing when she realized how angry he was.
"I'm a stupid fool. I'd begun to believe you lately, insisting you were happy and content here, that you no longer dreamed of going back." His eyes were cold, his voice almost sneering. "I'd actually planned today to ask you to marry me. It's a very good thing the opportunity didn't present itself, isn't it, Paige? Because if this is all a nightmare, what does that make me? Where does it leave me when you wake up some fine morning back where you want to be?"
She gaped at him, stupefied. Then the day's frustrations overcame her, and she yelled, "It makes you a chauvinist, that's what it makes you. So you were going to do me the favor of a lifetime and propose, were you? Do the right thing, make an honest woman out of me, well how bloody noble. How unnecessary, because weird as it may seem, I don't want to get married, Myles Baldwin."
She knew she was being unfair, but she couldn't stop once she'd begun.
"I won't marry you or anyone else. Every single day in my office, I see what marriage is like for women in this era, and believe me, that's a real nightmare."
She was sorry the moment the words were out. Damn, she hadn't meant to blast at him like that. It was just that his sarcasm had stung, and her legs ached like fire, and she wanted to get down from this blasted horse. She wanted a hot bath in a big tub, and a TV dinner, and a huge bowl of chocolate ice cream.
He'd been going to propose, he'd said.
How many times had she fantasized lately about what it would be like to be married to him?
Well, it was a cinch she'd never get the chance to find out now.
She felt faintly ill, and she had to struggle to stop the tears that threatened, but she managed.
The rest of the ride was long and silent and dreary.
Now and Then: Chapter Sixteen
With icy politeness, Myles saw Paige to her door that night and returned to the fort, seething with frustration. Dinner in the mess hall was long over. Myles settled for several apples and a slab of bread and cheese, and stomped off with them to his room.
He yanked off his boots and removed his tunic, giving it a shake to dislodge some of the dust from the ride. He washed at the basin in the corner and sat down in an armchair, propping his feet on a wooden box and staring at the plate that held his meager dinner.
Damnation. He slammed a fist down on the desk, and the plate with his food tumbled to the floor, the apples rolling off under the bed. What the hell, he wasn't the least bit hungry anyway.
How could the day he'd planned with all the care of a delicate surgical procedure have turned into such an unmitigated disaster?
He was disgusted and furious with himself for a great many things: his carelessness, for one. What had possessed him, cavorting buck-naked in the pool with his weapons nowhere within reach? He shuddered at his own stupidity.
If the Indians had been warlike, the scene would have had dire consequences. He thought about what could have happened to Paige and felt his stomach grow nauseous.
Curse the woman, she had the ability to make him lose his reason. She drove him mad with lust, she infuriated him with her stubbornness and her temper. He'd almost been angry enough tonight to ride off and leave her on the godforsaken prairie.
His mouth twisted in a mocking half-grin. What made him think he could ride off and leave Paige Randolph anywhere? She'd just follow him with that dogged determination of hers and give him holy hell when she caught him.
His thoughts strayed to the passion they'd shared that afternoon in the pouring rain, the way her wide open eyes had looked straight into his in the dim shadow of the blanket, holding only primitive need and the clear, pure message of her love for him. Even the memory made his body clench again with need of her.
But, he reminded himself bitterly, the only time she was truly his was when she was in his arms, when he was thrusting into her, when her memory was gone and only wild, immediate desire remained.
Never in her worst nightmares had she thought of coming back to this time.
Her words had been devastating. Even now, they twisted his gut into knots. He got to his feet, violently shucked off the rest of his clothing, blew out the lantern, and climbed into his narrow bed.
The far future, the time she came from, was so unbelievable it didn't particularly surprise him anymore when she told him of the curiosities she'd known, these automobiles, airplanes, televisions she talked about. But she'd surprised him tonight with her talk of Riel, because only a few days ago, Armand had told Myles that Louis Riel was now back in Batoche with hi
s wife, his infant son, and his daughter. The Métis had asked him for help with their land claims, Armand had confided.
Myles doubted that even Inspector Morris knew about Riel's return.
What Paige had related about a coming rebellion made perfect sense. The Indians and the Métis needed a hero, and Myles had heard many reports of Riel's ability as an orator able to stir fire in the blood of his passionate people.
So a bloody rebellion was coming.
Myles had seen more than enough of battles, of war, and the thought of another sickened him. But foreknowledge might allow for preparation.
If only Paige could remember exactly when it would happen.
September was hot, far hotter than even July or August had been. Old-timers told Paige it was the hottest September they ever remembered, and she believed them, irritably wondering why the hell she'd never really studied the inner workings of an air conditioning unit when she'd had the chance.
Her house was worse than an oven, and she pitied the poor patients in their long dresses and corsets almost as much as she pitied herself.
She and Myles had each apologized after that fateful Sunday in June, and although at first everything seemed fine between them, Paige was painfully aware that he never mentioned marriage again. As the weeks went by, she realized that there were other things too that they didn't talk about; Paige avoided referring to anything that related to her past. They'd never discussed Riel again. There were long silences between them, awkward silences.
Worse, their lovemaking suffered. What had been wild and free was now constrained. Well, she told herself in disgust, when you closed off communication in one area, it put a strain on everything.
Now and Forever: Time Travel Romance Superbundle Page 24
