A Moment in Time

by Deb Stover

  She allowed herself a few silent tears–for her mother, the baby Jackie'd miscarried, and for herself. Now that she had things in perspective again, she had to help Cole find his dream. Maybe–just maybe–she could become a part of his dream.

  And stay in the nineteenth century?

  He tilted her chin upward and covered her lips in a kiss so tender it almost made her weep. She clung to him, savoring this moment. Somehow, she had to tell him about Rock Smith, Goodfellow's offer, help him return Merriweather's gold, and clear his conscience. And help him find a way to get to Oregon.

  After a delicious, lingering moment, he pulled back and smiled. "I just want to make sure you really understand that invitation to Oregon."

  Her heart skipped a beat and she held her breath. "What about it, Cole?"

  "I wasn't asking you to do anything...improper." Redness flooded his face.

  "Ah, rats." She rubbed herself against him. "Are you sure about that, big guy? We've been properly improper already. Several times."

  His drew a sharp breath and pressed the evidence of his desire against her belly. "I had something a lot more... permanent in mind."

  It was her turn to stare in numb silence. Her blood pumped so loudly through her head, she could barely hear herself, let alone him. "Cole, what are you saying?" But she had to hear his words. Listen, Clarke.

  "Dang it all, Jackie, do I have to spell it out?"

  His discomfort endeared him to her all the more. "Yes, Cole," she said, blinking and afraid to believe. To hope. "Yes, you do." So I can make damn sure I'm not dreaming this. Please, God, don't let me screw this up.

  Much to her amazement, he dropped to one knee, holding both her hands in his. Her head swam and she held her breath.

  "Marry me," he whispered.

  Chapter 15

  "I..." Jackie bit her lower lip. The man was on his knees proposing to her. "I..." He grinned and she couldn't contain her nervous laughter.

  "What's so funny?" He placed his hand over his heart. "My pride may suffer a mortal wound, woman."

  "Stand up, Cole," she whispered, then tugged on his hand, no longer laughing. "Please? I can't think with you...like that."

  "On my knees, you mean?" He rose and pulled her hard against him. "Is this better?"

  "Oh, yeah." She kissed him, twining her fingers through the soft hair at his nape. "I like this a lot."

  "Mmm, so do I." He pulled back and his expression grew sober. Intense. "Will you marry me, Jackie? Be my wife? Help me raise Todd? Go with us to Oregon as soon as I save enough money?"

  And never return to my own time?

  The thought both terrified and thrilled her. She couldn't imagine anything better than being Cole Morrison's wife and having a son like Todd. And maybe more babies–a little girl named Sandra.

  The man was offering her the world. His dream. Her dream. How could she refuse?

  Yet how could she agree?

  "Cole, do you really believe I'm not Lolita?" She had to know once and for all.

  A moment's uncertainty flashed in his eyes and a stabbing pain pierced her moment of joy. She couldn't marry him if he still believed she was Lolita. "Cole?" she repeated, waiting.

  And hoping.

  "I don't believe you're Lolita," he said. "At least, not anymore."

  Her fairy tale shattered, her dreams died. A sinking feeling washed over her and her head pounded. "What do you mean by 'not anymore?'"

  He shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Jackie, what am I supposed to think? You showed up in Devil's Gulch just before everybody was expecting Lolita, and your hair's that unnatural shade of red like hers."

  She drew a deep breath and clenched her fists at her sides. In her heart and gut, she realized he still didn't believe her. Damn. "Then maybe you should just deliver me to Merriweather and collect your gold, cowboy." Her lower lip trembled and she bit it, but she banished the nasal drone of Great-Aunt Pearl's voice from the back of her mind.

  "Jackie, don't. I–"

  "I'm tired, Cole," she whispered. "We'd better get back." She met his gaze and her heart pressed upward against her throat, a tight fist of anguish. He looked like a man who'd lost everything, which wasn't true, of course. She was the big loser in this scenario. "Please, don't look at me that way."

  "What way?" One corner of his mouth turned upward and he raked his fingers through his hair. "Like a man who wants to kiss you, to hold you, to make you his wife?"

  But not like a man who loves me and who believes me. She shook her head. "You don't have to marry me, Cole, just because we had sex."

  He grabbed her upper arms and gave her a gentle shake. "Jackie, there could be a child. Lord knows we did everything right to make one."

  Ah, so that was it. How could she explain contraception to a Victorian man? "Wrong time of month," she said.

  "Huh?"

  "It's just...very unlikely. Trust me." At least now she knew why he'd proposed to her. This wasn't about love or dreams. Mr. Straight Arrow was simply an honorable man doing the "right thing." Well, to hell with this.

  "I won't let a child of mine be branded a bastard." His voice was intense and his eyes flashed angrily. "I can't believe you would risk that either."

  She could've said something flippant, but the pain of the child she'd conceived and lost so many years ago stabbed through her anew. "If there's a child, I promise I'll let you know," she whispered. "Let's not borrow trouble."

  "Trouble?" He let his arms fall to his sides, an expression of shock and disappointment marring his handsome features. "Children aren't trouble, Jackie. They're a blessing."

  And a dream I'll never have. "I didn't mean it...that way." Her head ached and pounded and she rubbed her temples. She'd really blown things with Cole now, but it never would've worked anyway. Her eyes burned and she cleared her throat.

  "My proposal still stands," he said stoically, closing his eyes before looking directly at her again. "And I meant what I said about not having a child of mine raised a bastard."

  "I know you did, Cole." She held her breath, wishing she could tell him everything–who she was, where she was from, why she couldn't be pregnant. He already didn't believe the truth she'd told him about not being Lolita, so why would he believe time travel?

  Because it was the truth.

  "Damn," she muttered, dragging in a deep breath.

  "What?" His jaw twitched again.

  "Don't grit your teeth, Cole." She flashed him a smile. "I have something to tell you, but it's going to be hard for you to believe. Even harder than the fact that I'm not Lolita. Which I'm not and never have been."

  "Are you...already married?" His brow furrowed and genuine worry entered his eyes. "No matter how much I want you, I never would've–"

  "I'm not married, Cole." She stepped closer and touched his cheek, watching relief wash through him. "Dear, sweet Cole." She smiled up at him. "No, it's something much more bizarre, but it's the truth."

  "Truth is good." He gave her a shy grin. "And you not being married is even better."

  She threw back her head and laughed, feeling much better about everything. "Ready or not, Cole Morrison," she said with genuine conviction, "you're getting the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." She placed her right hand over her heart. "So help me God."

  He sobered. "All right, I'm ready."

  She glanced at the sun's angle. "I think we'd better save this until after supper."

  "Jackie..."

  "Really, it's a very long and amazing story." She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

  "All right, as soon as Todd's asleep." Mischief and a familiar fire danced in his blue eyes. "That pile of straw's still there."

  She laughed again and threw her arms around him, sighing with relief when he gathered her close. The thought of never feeling his arms embracing her again made a tight band of fear clutch her heart and she held him tighter.

  "There, now," he said, kissing the top of her head. "Everything's going to be fi
ne. You'll see."

  She leaned back and met his gaze. "I want it to be fine, Cole. More than anything." Drawing a deep breath, she added, "And once I've told you everything, we'll talk about...what you asked me again."

  He smiled and kissed her forehead. "The word is marriage," he whispered.

  There she went changing her mind again. Fickle Female R Us. Cole was offering her a dream–a dream she wanted more than anything, but only because she loved this man with all her heart and soul.

  Marriage to a man I really love. Great sex whenever I want with Mel-Gibson-Only-Better. Children.

  Love? Did he love her? Could he love her?

  Dare she dream again...?

  * * *

  Cole could easily make a the habit of these evening meetings with Jackie. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he tucked his son in bed and kissed him on the forehead.

  "Did you and Miss Jackie finish Huckleberry Finn?" he asked, squatting beside Todd's narrow bunk.

  "Almost." The boy yawned, then smiled, his eyes drooping. "I like Miss Jackie."

  "So do I, son." Cole drew a deep breath and rose. "So do I."

  "I want her to go with us to Oregon."

  A pang of regret stabbed through Cole. He never should've mentioned Oregon to Todd. Now they'd have to wait. "We'll see what she has to say about that when the time comes."

  "Goodnight, Pa."

  "Sleep tight."

  "Mama always said...that." The boy's eyes fluttered shut and his even breathing indicated he was sound asleep.

  Todd had very few memories of his mother, because he'd only been five when she died. Cole smiled to himself, then glanced at the rocking chair near the hearth. Remembering...

  He could picture her there, nursing Todd at her breast

  , humming softly. A lump formed in Cole's throat and he drew another huge breath. Memories of Elizabeth always led to the same place.

  His unkept promise.

  He walked slowly toward the door, trying to banish the images of his wife on her deathbed, and the sound of her shaky voice begging him...

  Damnation, Elizabeth...I'm sorry. So sorry.

  Trying to keep that promise had driven him to break the law. But if he hadn't agreed to do Merriweather's dirty work, he never would have met Jackie.

  Elizabeth would want him to be happy. She'd said as much before her death–told him to remarry one day, and to give Todd a new mother. Elizabeth would always be Todd's mother, but Jackie loved him, too, whether she was ready to admit it or not.

  Cole shoved aside his memories, deciding to deal with one woman and one truth at a time. His brain was downright overcrowded with worries and promises and dreams as it was.

  Pity his dreams and promises were so damned contrary.

  He opened the door and stepped outside, pulling it shut behind him. Jackie turned slowly toward him, pulling her shawl closer against the evening chill.

  She'd promised him the truth, but for some reason, he feared it. Truth was good, he reminded himself, gazing out at the last smudges of twilight.

  "Todd's asleep," he said, sliding his arm around Jackie and pulling her against him. "Chilly this evening."

  "Yes." She rested her cheek on his shoulder. "Well, are you ready for this?"

  "I'm...not sure."

  "Get ready, because it's show time, big guy." She sighed and pulled out of his embrace, taking his hand. "Let's sit here. Okay?"

  He allowed her to lead him to the porch step, where they sat side-by-side, their thighs and hips touching. Everything about this woman aroused him. He couldn't remember being so randy all the time before, but he must have been as a younger man. Damnation, but Jackie made him feel young again.

  And alive.

  "All right," he said, watching the stars appear across the clear black sky, twinkling like diamonds. He wished he could grab one of them and put it on her ring finger. Damn. He'd spent far too much time lately remembering his mother's poetry and fairy tales. "I'm listening."

  She kept his hand. "Promise to listen to it all?"

  "Every word."

  "No matter how, uh, crazy it sounds?"

  He looked at her, though he couldn't see her clearly in the darkness. "No matter how crazy. I promise." Giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, he added, "Honest."

  "Okay." She released a slow sigh. "First things first. I'm not from around here."

  "I figured that." He smiled through the darkness, but sensed she wasn't in the mood for jokes. "Go on."

  "I was born in Texas and raised in a small town in Arizona with my great-aunt."

  "Pearl?"

  "Right. Good old not-so-Great-Aunt Pearl." She shuddered against his side.

  "I gather that isn't a good memory?"

  "No, though I think she believed she was doing a good job, which is really scary now that I think about it."

  "Sometimes you talk so strange." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, go on."

  "I talk strange for a reason, Cole." She half-turned toward him. "Here comes the part that will be hard for you to believe."

  "I'm ready." He narrowed his eyes, wishing he could see hers, but it was too dark.

  "Growing up in Arizona isn't why I sound strange to you." She sighed again, then gave his hand a squeeze. "Cole, I was born in the year 1967."

  "That makes you a year younger than–" He gulped, realization making gooseflesh pop out all over him. "Wait, did you say...what I think you did?"

  "Yes. April 11th, 1967, Cole."

  She was madder than a march hare. Nuttier than his mother-in-law's fruitcake. A raving lunatic. "Jackie, you feeling all right?"

  She threw one hand up and stared at the sky. "See? I knew you'd do this."

  "It's not poss–"

  "Yes, it is possible, because it happened to me, Cole." A bitter laugh erupted from her, containing no humor at all. "It happened to me. One day I was hiking down a mountain in the month of June, the next I was back in time over a hundred years."

  "Jackie, I'm worried about–"

  "Hey, don't worry about me. I've been vaccinated against half a dozen diseases that are common in this century. You're the one who should worry." Groaning, she pulled her hand free and leapt to her feet, pacing back and forth in front of him.

  Cole rose slowly, trying to sort this through. "Jackie, traveling back in time isn't possible."

  "Tell that to God or whoever sucked me into that painting and planted my pitiful ass in your lap, bucko."

  "First of all, your ass is quite fine, ma'am, and I'm grateful to God for planting you in my lap." He took a step toward her, but she backed away. "And other places."

  "But...?" She stood with a fist perched on each hip and lifted her chin just as the moon rose, bathing the clearing in silver. "Go on, ask all those questions that are bouncing around in that brain of yours."

  He took another step toward her, ready to grab her if she bolted. The woman wasn't well, and he cared too much about her to risk letting her wander off into the wilderness and get lost.

  "I'm waiting, big guy. Fire those questions. Let her rip."

  "All right." He stood less than a foot from her and watched the moonlight play across the planes and angles of her pretty face, wishing he could gather her in his arms and chase her demons away. But he'd promised to listen. "Assuming you really are from the future–God Almighty, will you listen to this?–how did you get here? And what painting?"

  "Good questions." She started pacing again. "I'll spare you the Blade business and cut to the chase."

  "Chase?"

  "Yeah, me and about ten million snowflakes against the world."

  "What?"

  She paused in front of him, again placing her fists on her hips, lifting her chin as if daring him to doubt her. "Someone took me to a cabin in the mountains, not very far from here, I think, and left me there. He stole my car and all my money."

  "Car?"

  "Oh, I guess this is pre-Henry Ford, huh?" She shook her head and made a strange sound. "A c
ar is a horseless carriage, runs with an engine instead of a horse."

  Cole chuckled. "I reckon if we can have trains, we can have those, too." He tilted his head to one side. "Someday."

  "Airplanes and space shuttles, too, Cole."

  "You've been reading my Jules Verne novels."

  "Nope, just Mark Twain." She folded her arms in front of her. "It's all true, Cole."

  "You still haven't told me how it happened."

  "Right." She paced again for a few minutes, then stopped, looking toward the mountains. "Like I told you, I was abandoned in the mountains, so I started walking down. I know nothing about the mountains, Cole."

  "I noticed." He smiled. Crazy or not, this woman touched him in a way no one ever had. "I'm listening." He kept his tone gentle, trying to encourage her.

  "I had no idea it could snow in June."

  "Ah, yes, I remember you mentioned that."

  "I was so cold, so frightened." Her voice fell to a whisper.

  He believed her. Not the time travel part, but this part. No one could put this much emotion into a story that wasn't true. If only he'd been there to take care of her....

  "I found a ghost town, but only one building was standing." She chuckled again, then looked right at him. "The Gold Mine Saloon in Devil's Gulch."

  A shiver raced down his spine. "Devil's Gulch is a busy place, Jackie," he said gently. "Not a ghost–"

  "It will be, though." She rubbed her arms and pulled the shawl closer. "Anyway, I took shelter in the saloon and found a few things I could use. A lamp, some food, matches..." Her voice trailed away.

  "What happened next?" He stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder, relieved that she didn't flinch away. "I want to know, Jackie. Tell me." And get this sickness out of your mind before it destroys you.

  "A painting of Lolita Belle." Jackie laughed again, a crazy, shrill sound. "Her name was on the painting along with the year 1891."

  "And I kidnapped you from that artist's place out on the edge of town."

  "Exactly, so you do believe me."

  He remained silent and felt her withdrawal. She shrugged his hand away and lifted her chin again. "Anyway, it was cold and I started a fire in the stove. There was an old movie script there to read, so I settled down in front of the stove to read."