A Moment in Time

by Deb Stover

  "What happened?"

  "Fire." The word was barely more than a strangled whisper in the night. "Fire."

  "Ah, Jackie." He reached for her and pulled her into his arms, relieved when she came willingly. Trembling, she rested her cheek against his chest and he stroked her hair. "You're safe now."

  She pulled back slightly, looking up at him. "No, not until you believe me, Cole."

  She had to finish this. He sensed that. "What happened next?" Her body trembled in his arms and he rubbed her back, hoping to calm her.

  "There was no way out, but I remembered a window behind the bar, near Lolita's painting." A small sob tore from her throat and she covered her mouth. "I was so afraid, Cole. So afraid..."

  "I'm here now."

  "I...I couldn't find the window. Something fell and knocked me down." She drew a shuddering breath. "Lolita's painting crashed to the floor with me. I knew I was going to die."

  "You didn't die."

  "No, and that's when the miracle happened."

  Now certainly wasn't the time to tell her she was talking nonsense. He just held her and prayed that sharing her story would purge her of this madness. God willing. "What miracle, Jackie?"

  "The painting started to glow and I touched her face. Lolita's face."

  "Go on." A chill seeped into Cole's bones and he couldn't shake it. He swallowed hard, listening.

  "Her face...became mine."

  Cole's heart raced and his gut clenched. A thin coating of perspiration popped out all over his body. He held her tighter, suddenly afraid. Had the fire done this to her? Driven her mad?

  But what did he fear? Her madness? No.

  He feared for his own sanity.

  Dear God, I almost believe her. He dragged in a shaky breath, still rubbing her back. She trembled against him and he leaned back to gaze down at her shadowy face in the moonlight. "Then what happened?"

  She lifted one shoulder in a shrug and sighed. "I woke up in the Gold Mine Saloon, but it was brand new like it is now." A nervous laugh bubbled up from her lips. "The Brothers Grime–"

  "Grime? Who are they?"

  "Goodfellow's henchmen, Zeb or Zeke or whatever his name is, and the other one."

  "Ah, the pair who came here looking for you?" He was starting to understand why Jackie had become such an agreeable hostage. The word made him cringe. "I figured they came here because of the morning I dragged you out of the street and you asked me to help you." He shuddered. "I swear, I'll never forgive myself for not listening to you then."

  "Please forgive yourself, Cole." She reached up and cradled his cheek in her palm. "I've forgiven you."

  The urge–no, the need–to kiss her thundered through him and he lowered his head to claim her lips. She clung to him and he felt her quivering. Was he strong enough to help her through this madness?

  Would she recover at all? She had to.

  In his arms, she didn't feel insane at all. Did it really matter that she believed she was born in the future? After all, they'd been getting along quite well so far.

  Yes, it mattered for her. He had to help her get well.

  She ended their kiss and drew a quick breath. "I thought then that I should go back with them and let Henri finish Lolita's painting," she continued, her voice stronger now. "But I didn't want to get..."

  "Get what?" he prodded.

  "I didn't want to get you in trouble." She rested her cheek against his chest again and he massaged slow circles into her back. "Oh, Cole, I'm still afraid."

  "Shh, I'm here." He lifted her chin and gazed down at her, wishing again that he could see her eyes. It warmed him to know she'd been trying to protect him, despite her obvious...problems. "Why were you worried about the painting being finished?" And how could she have touched it in the future if it didn't exist? The entire thing made no sense, but she couldn't see that.

  "It's my time portal," she said matter-of-factly.

  Inwardly, he groaned. "Time...portal?"

  "Of course." A gentle breezed wrapped her skirts around his legs. "It pulled me back in time, so I figure it can just as easily send me forward."

  "Do you...want to go back, Jackie?" He sounded as crazy as she did. "I don't want you to leave."

  "I...I'm not sure, Cole." She sighed again. "Part of me–a very big part–wants to stay here with you and Todd more than anything."

  "I'll take care of you," he said. "I want to marry you, Jackie."

  "Even knowing who and what I really am?"

  "Yes." No matter what, he would take care of her. If she spent the rest of her life believing she'd traveled back in time, then so be it. She warmed his heart, filled his soul, made beautiful love to him, and she took good care of Todd. "Marry me, Jackie."

  "Now that you know the truth..." She drew a shaky breath. "Yes."

  What more could a man ask?

  * * *

  Jackie approached the moonlit outhouse with resolve. She'd be staying in the nineteenth century, so she'd better get used to the inconveniences and conveniences, such as they were.

  She smiled, giddy in the knowledge that she would be staying here and marrying Cole Morrison. With a thumbs-up gesture, she whispered, "Yes," and did the Snoopy dance in front of the outhouse.

  Laughing at herself, she entered it and took care of business, then stepped out and stood gazing up at the stars for a few wondrous moments. Cole would love and protect her. Funny, but she'd never thought she needed a man's protection before, but it was much more than that. Knowing someone cared enough to want the job made her heart swell with love.

  Yes, love. Though he still hadn't spoken the words, she knew in her heart that Cole loved her. How could any man put up with her otherwise, let alone want to spend the rest of his life chained to her?

  She had a lifetime of love, commitment, great sex, motherhood–even if she never gave birth, she'd have Todd–and joy ahead of her. Amazing what a little quantum leaping could do for a girl.

  Speaking of great sex, she and Cole had a date with a pile of straw. Internal warmth settled low in her belly and unfurled through her like tendrils of smoke, focusing on her smoldering core. Turning in the direction of the stable and the man she loved, she hurried toward what promised to be a very memorable rendezvous.

  Another thought filled her mind and she paused. While it was true Cole hadn't professed his love for her, she was guilty of the same omission. So much for honesty, Clarke. Squaring her shoulders, she vowed to remedy that error in about two min–

  "Oomph." A gloved hand clamped over her mouth and an arm of steel hauled her toward the trees. She tried to scream, then twisted, bit, kicked and struggled against the man, but he was too powerful. A familiar, sickeningly sweet scent touched her nostrils, demanding she remember something, but she failed.

  All she could think of was that Cole was waiting for her. She leaned away from her abductor and stomped on his foot, straining to break free.

  "You bitch," the man snapped, his hot breath scorching the side of her neck. An evil chuckle filled her ear. "I always was partial to redheads."

  Blade. Rock.

  She jabbed her elbow into his ribs and he wheezed, but his grip never faltered a bit.

  "That's it," he said, throwing her to the ground and straddling her.

  Jackie gasped, preparing to scream, but he shoved a filthy rag into her mouth, then tied his bandanna over it. It happened so fast. Damn. She screamed anyway, but the muffled sound couldn't have traveled more than a few feet. A silent scream filled her brain, her heart, her soul.

  Cole.

  She gagged on the rag and scalding tears streamed down her face. Breathing through her nose, she stopped gagging and vowed to find a way to escape. Smith obviously planned to collect Goodfellow's gold for himself.

  The joke would be on him, though, because she wasn't about to play the role of Lolita Belle again. No matter what it took, she'd convince Goodfellow this time that she wasn't Lolita. She didn't want to see the painting finished now.

&
nbsp; Fate couldn't be this cruel. Blade Smith had screwed up her life in the future, and his dropped-on-his-head-ancestor was trying to finish the job now.

  Just when she'd found happiness at last and Cole promised to take care of her.

  I need you.

  Chapter 16

  Cole spread a quilt out on the pile of straw where he and Jackie'd made love the first time and laid on his back to wait. He grew hard so fast it made him dizzy.

  Jackie might be crazy, but she was his. That thought made him shake his head in bewilderment, even as it made his heart sing with joy. He'd take care of her, give her plenty of loving, and eventually she'd get better.

  She had to.

  The fact that he wanted her, crazy or not, was pretty telling. He couldn't deny any longer that he was in love with the woman. Thinking back, he realized he hadn't told her yet. At least, not with words. Women were strange that way. They liked to have everything spelled out.

  Fine. He'd tell her tonight. And he'd tell her about his stories, too–another dream she didn't know about. She'd find out sooner or later anyway.

  He folded his hands behind his head, wondering what was taking her so long. Women were curious creatures, and it always seemed to take them twice as long as he thought necessary to answer the call of nature. He had a call of nature to take care of right here, but he didn't intend to rush it.

  She'd be along shortly, and they'd make love, plan their wedding, then maybe they'd make love again. And again. He smiled to himself, his groin tightening with a longing ache–an itch he knew just how to scratch.

  They were getting married. Todd would be happy about that. He'd wanted Jackie to go with them to Oregon, and now she would.

  If they went.

  Gnashing his teeth, Cole released a ragged sigh. He had to return Merriweather's gold and that was all there was to it. Even Jackie agreed.

  Cole thought back to their day by the waterfall, remembering how thoughtful and downright philosophical she'd been. She understood that Elizabeth would always be in Cole's heart, but there was room there for Jackie, too. It took a strong woman not to resent a man's past.

  In fact, she was one of the strongest women he'd ever known, despite her strangeness. She made a lot of sense much of the time, and he enjoyed talking to her about things most women didn't want to think about at all.

  But if Jackie was so strong, how could she be so crazy?

  "Damn." While she'd told him her story about the blizzard, the ghost town, the fire, the portrait...Cole had actually caught himself believing her wild tale. He swallowed hard, the gooseflesh he'd experienced while she spoke returning with a vengeance.

  A sense of dread suddenly swept through him, powerful and all-encompassing. He bolted upright, listening to the gentle breeze, the rustling of the aspen leaves, and...

  Nothing.

  Jackie should have returned by now. Had she gone to the cabin to check on Todd? No, he'd already done that and she knew it. He rose and headed out into the stillness.

  An eerie calm blanketed the clearing. Even the breeze had suddenly vanished, leaving him listening to nothing but the wild thunder of his own heart.

  He pivoted toward the outhouse and started walking, quickening his pace as he grew closer, running by the time he skidded to a stop before the small structure. Clearing his throat, he lifted his hand, hesitated, then knocked. She'd probably laugh at his foolishness.

  Nothing. He knocked louder, then softly called her name. Still nothing. Fear spiraled through him and he opened the door, finding the small space empty.

  He stood staring at the cabin, then looked toward the stable. Could she have fallen on her way to meet him? Maybe she was lying silent in the darkness. Frantic, he realized he needed light.

  Cole ran to the cabin and slipped through the back door and checked on Todd. The boy was sound asleep, curled on his side. Cole's heart skipped a beat, then raced out of control. He had to find Jackie for them both.

  Quickly, Cole climbed the ladder to make certain Jackie wasn't in the loft. Finding no evidence that she'd been there, he took the lamp with him and went through the front door. He searched the porch, the area directly in front of and all around the cabin, then covered the worn path between there and the stable.

  Retracing his steps, he searched the outhouse again, then surveyed a wide area on both sides of the path between there and the paddock. Fear settled in his gut as he slipped into the stable again. Ruth nickered a greeting, but Cole found no indication that Jackie had been there.

  She was gone.

  Sick with worry and fear, Cole trudged back to the porch and sat there, placing the lamp at his side. Had she agreed to marry him merely to humor him so she could slip away in the night like a thief?

  He remembered the way she'd felt in his arms, so alive, so giving, so passionate. That could not have been pretense. No woman was that talented an actress.

  Except...maybe the legendary Lolita Belle.

  His throat burned and his gut roiled. Clenching his fists, he rose, staring out at the mountains. Jackie wouldn't have wandered off alone at night. She wasn't that crazy.

  Was she?

  He held his breath. Should he go after her? She could be in trouble. Lost. Afraid.

  But she left me.

  She had told him to follow his dreams, and had even promised to share those dreams. Then simply walked out of his life?

  "Think, Morrison. Think."

  Rubbing his temples, he thought back to that first day in Devil's Gulch, then to the day he'd kidnapped her from the artist's cabin. What had she said about the painting?

  "I thought then that I should go back with them and let the artist finish Lolita's painting."

  Was she trying to find her way back to her imaginary time in the future? Was she that crazy?

  Or that devious?

  A sudden suspicion slithered through him and his flesh turned icy cold. The gold. If she'd played him for a fool, then she would've taken Merriweather's gold.

  No. She wouldn't have. She cared about him–had agreed to marry him. He remembered the way she treated Todd. Jackie couldn't have...

  There's only one way to know for sure.

  Carrying the lamp, he opened the cabin door and stepped inside. The golden light bathed the tiny cabin and he went immediately to the loose stone in the hearth. He set the lantern on the mantel and worked the stone free with his fingers, then reached into the opening. His fingers touched the leather drawstring and he withdrew the pouch, testing its weight in his hand.

  Relief coalesced into renewed worry. She hadn't taken the gold, but she was definitely gone. A woman out to deceive him would've found the gold first and taken it with her. That meant one of two things.

  Either Jackie had become confused and wandered into the wilderness...

  Or someone had dragged her away against her will.

  * * *

  The jarring motion of the horse jerked Jackie awake. Every muscle protested her slouched position and she straightened, grappling for her bearings.

  Where the hell was she?

  Then she remembered and tried to call out Cole's name. Her captor had left the gag in place and she rearranged her tongue, but the effort was wasted. Smith had her bound and gagged and totally at his mercy.

  Would Cole come after her? She squeezed her eyes shut, wondering if he would realize she'd been kidnapped. Again. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she'd left him by choice. Not after...

  Bile rose in her throat and for a moment she thought she might retch. That would finish her off quickly with this stupid rag stuffed in her mouth. The headlines would read:

  Time-Traveling Hairdresser Suffocates.

  She breathed slowly through her nose. No, she wouldn't let this bastard win. Maybe she couldn't exact revenge from Blade personally for abandoning her and ripping her off, but she could fix his ancestor's butt.

  And she would, too. Jackie was getting really sick of good-looking con artists doing her dirty. Th
is victim scenario didn't suit her at all. In fact, it pissed her off royally.

  The creep had tied her hands and was leading her horse down the pass. He sat tall and easy in the saddle of the horse in front of her, and she gave him what she hoped was the evil eye. If looks could kill...

  A lone light in the sleepy town of Devil's Gulch flickered below. Remembering the first time she'd seen the town, a chill stole into the corners of her heart and soul. The Gold Mine Saloon had been her haven that day, saving her from certain death in a surprise blizzard. This time, she dreaded passing through those doors.

  Cole, please find me.

  With nothing but moonlight guiding them, Smith brought his horse to a stop and dismounted, then looped the reins over the branch of a young aspen. He wandered into the trees for a few minutes, then returned, buttoning his fly and scratching himself.

  This guy looked like Blade's double, but he sure as hell didn't have his descendant's suave, sophisticated manner. Smith flashed her a grin that told her he knew she was watching, and maybe his bad manners had been deliberate.

  And calculating?

  He rubbed the back of his neck and stretched, then looked at her.

  "Won't be much longer now," he said, rubbing his hands together. "I'll have enough gold to get all the way ba–er, to California."

  Back? Had he been about to say he wanted to get back to California? Blade was from California. Clarke, you're imagining things.

  She tried to speak and he looked at her as if surprised to see the gag. "I suppose we don't need that now." His voice sounded surprisingly gentle. He untied her hands and hauled her off the horse, all traces of gentleness nothing more than a fleeting memory.

  Jackie's knees collapsed and her legs trembled. She remained on the ground, rubbing her wrists and waiting for her circulation to return.

  Smith chuckled and she looked up at him. Hating him.

  His laughter died and he narrowed his eyes. "Don't even think about trying anything." He walked behind her and loosened the bandanna holding the rag in her mouth.

  The offending gag fell away and she gasped for air, running her tongue along her cracked lips. "Water?" she croaked, and he handed her a canteen. She took it, but didn't meet her captor's eyes, trying to think of some means of escape.