Shadows Through Time

by Madeline Baker

  He found Kelsey waiting for him where had left her.

  She was a beautiful woman, warm and desirable and he was tired of fighting his longing for her. He didn’t know which of them was more surprised when he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  For a moment, she stood rigid in embrace and then, with a funny little sigh, her arms slid around his waist and she leaned into him. Reese drew her body close to his, one hand sliding up and down her side, skimming the edge of her breast, the indentation at her waist, the softly rounded curve of her hip. Lord, but she was sweet. One kiss and his whole body came alive. He knew the moment she became aware of his desire. A little gasp escaped her lips, it could have been desire, it could have been dismay. He thought it was the former, since she didn’t pull away from him.

  She was breathless when they parted.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first day I saw you,” he said without apology.

  A faint smile curved her lips. “And I’ve been wanting you to.”

  He lifted one brow. “Is that right?”

  She nodded. “What took you so long?”

  “I didn’t want to rush you.”

  Kelsey looked up at him, thinking how different he was from every other man she had ever known. Not rush her? She had met men who expected her to sleep with them simply because they had bought her a drink!

  Kelsey licked her lips as heat flowed between them. He was still holding her loosely in his embrace. Needing to touch him, she slid her hand under his vest. His skin was warm. Beneath her palm, she could feel the steady beat of his heart. Would he kiss her again? She moved a little closer, hoping he would interpret it as the invitation it was.

  He didn’t move, simply continued to look down at her. His eyes were dark, turbulent with an emotion she didn’t understand. It wasn’t desire. It was more like…fear.

  “We’d better get back,” he said.

  “What?” She stared at him, wondering if she had missed something.

  He took a step away from her, then reached for her hand. “Come on.”

  She told herself it was just as well. The last thing she needed was to get involved with T. K. Reese. Sooner or later, she would find the door that led back home where she belonged and when she did, she didn’t want to leave her heart here, in the past.

  * * * * *

  Reese stood in the shadows staring out into the darkness. Hantaywee and Kelsey had gone to bed hours ago, but he couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the hurt and confusion on Kelsey’s face. He never should have kissed her, never should have brought her here.

  Chumani’s image rose in his mind, as vivid as if she were standing beside him, her blue eyes shining, her long black hair tumbling over her shoulders. Both half-breeds, he supposed it was only natural that they had become friends. They had grown up together, played together as children. He had endured the teasing of the other boys because he preferred Chumani’s company to theirs, but he hadn’t cared. She understood him as no one else did. He figured it had been inevitable that as they had grown older, their friendship had deepened, just as it had been inevitable that once she became a young woman, the unmarried warriors began to take notice, especially Wahchinksapa. Wahchinksapa, who had once been his best friend. Over time, the amiable rivalry between them had grown stronger and more antagonistic until there was no longer anything friendly about it.

  When Chumani turned seventeen, Reese had offered her father six horses in exchange for her hand in marriage.

  Not to be outdone, Wahchinksapa had sent ten horses to Chumani’s father.

  Chumani had pleaded with her father to accept Reese’s horses, but her father had refused to let her marry a half-breed, even though Chumani herself was a half-breed.

  Reese had refused to accept her father’s decision.

  “Come away with me,” he had pleaded. “It’s the only way we can be together.”

  Chumani looked up at him, her blue eyes wide. “Run away?”

  He nodded. “Others have done it.” It wasn’t uncommon for lovers to elope in the face of parental disapproval. “Once it is done, they will have to accept it,” he said with a smile. “Remember the games we played as children? The packing game? The first love game?” They were games played by the very young wherein they pretended to be make-believe lovers and parents.

  Chumani nodded, but still looked doubtful. “What if my parents refuse to accept us once we are married?”

  “Then we will find somewhere else to live!” Filled with the audacity and impatience of youth, certain that her parents would approve once the deed was done, he would not be swayed. “Come with me, Chumani! Now, tonight.”

  And when she still looked uncertain, he drew her into his arms and kissed her. Though she was still a maiden, they had often snuck away together. Hidden from her mother’s eyes, they had given in to their natural curiosity and explored each other’s bodies. Though he had yearned to possess her, he had kept a tight rein on his passion, refusing to yield to temptation until she was truly his.

  That night, he kissed her until she agreed to run away with him.

  “You will not find any answers out here.”

  Hantaywee’s voice chased the memories from his mind. She was the closest thing he’d had to a mother since his own parents were killed by the Crow when he was thirteen. She knew him better than any other living soul. Better, perhaps, that he knew himself. He loved her for that. Sometimes, he hated her for that.

  Taking a deep breath, he turned to face her. “I’m not looking for answers.”

  “What are you looking for?” she asked.

  “You know damn well what I’m looking for,” he said bitterly.

  “If she were here, she would forgive you.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “You must accept the past and then forget it.”

  “Forget it?” Hands clenched, he fought down the anger rising within him. “How can I forget it?”

  “You cannot change the past, chaska. Surely you have learned this by now.”

  “What are you doing out here, old woman?”

  “Offering comfort to one who needs it.” She canted her head to the side. Though he could not clearly see her face in the darkness, he knew her eyes were filled with compassion. And love. He had never known anyone like Hantaywee. She was wakan—holy. But for her, he would have died long ago. Sometimes, like tonight, when the past refused to be ignored, he wished she had not succeeded in saving him. Sometimes, like tonight, he was certain the only forgetfulness he would ever find would be in the grave.

  “Is Wahchinksapa still here?” It galled him to speak the man’s name aloud.

  “Yes. He is a Shirt Wearer now.”

  Reese grunted softly. To be a Shirt Wearer was a great honor and carried great responsibility. Shirt Wearers were given special shirts to wear, either red on top and blue on the bottom, or blue on top and yellow on the bottom—blue represented the sky, yellow represented the rock, red stood for the sun, green for Mother Earth. The shirts were fringed with locks of hair, which represented all the people of the tribe. The welfare of the People rested on the shoulders of the Shirt Wearers.

  Moving closer, Hantaywee placed her hand on Reese’s back.

  He flinched at her touch.

  “The woman with you. Who is she?”

  He shrugged. “Just a woman I met in town. She needed someone to look after her.”

  “She is a stranger here.”

  Reese turned to look at her. Of course Kelsey was a stranger here. She was a white woman in a Lakota camp.

  Hantaywee shook her head. “She is a stranger from another time.”

  “Another time? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “She has come here from a time far in the future.”

  “You’re talking nonsense, old woman,” Reese muttered. But it explained so many things, like Kelsey’s peculiar clothing and her funny shoes and socks. He remembered asking her if she was lost and he
r reply—yes, I think I am. He shook his head. What Hantaywee suggested was impossible. And yet, there were tribal medicine men who claimed to have traveled from this world to the next. But not physically.

  Reese swore softly as he tried to wrap his mind around it, but it was beyond his comprehension. Hell, even Hantaywee couldn’t travel through time. Yet how could he doubt her? In all the years he had known her, none of her visions had been wrong. If she said Kelsey had come from the future, it was probably true, whether he wanted to believe it or not.

  “She may be just what you need, chaska.”

  “No,” he said bitterly. “I don’t need anyone.”

  * * * * *

  Kelsey slid a glance at Reese. They had taken a walk earlier that morning and now they were sitting on the banks of the river that ran behind the village. It was a pretty setting, with the river running in front of them and the mountains looming in the distance. A few scattered clouds, looking like fluffy powder puffs, drifted across the sky. Birds twittered in the branches overhead, squirrels darted from tree to tree.

  Reese had been unusually silent ever since last night. She wondered if he was sorry he had kissed her, then shook her head. Sorry or not, that was no reason for his behavior. There was a haunted look in his eyes, as if some demon plagued him. And maybe it did. She knew so little about him.

  “Reese?”

  He looked over at her, his expression closed. She would have given a month’s pay to know what he was thinking.

  “Are we going back to Grant’s Crossing soon?” If he wouldn’t take her, she would have to find the way on her own. She would never find her way back home from here.

  “In a few days.”

  She nodded. Though she was anxious to get back to Grant’s Crossing, she couldn’t very well insist they leave right away. He had been badly wounded only days ago and even though he seemed to be feeling much better, his wounds were still healing.

  “So tell me,” he said after a while. “Just where are you from?”

  “New York City,” she replied.

  “City girl, huh?” he said, grinning.

  “You got a problem with that?”

  “When were you born?”

  “Why?” She plucked a long blade of grass and twirled it between her fingertips.

  “Is it a secret?”

  “Are you trying to find out how old I am?”

  “I’m trying to find out when you were born.”

  “I’m twenty-eight,” she said. “You do the math.”

  “Math?”

  “Arithmetic.”

  “What year were you born?”

  “You’re very persistent, aren’t you? Why are you asking me all these questions, anyway?” She might have told him the truth, except she was sure he would think she was crazy.

  “I just want to know what year you were born.”

  She did some quick math of her own. “1843.”

  “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

  He knows, she thought. Somehow, he knew she didn’t belong here, that she was from the future. But how could he know that? And why would anyone believe it? She hardly believed it herself.

  Kelsey took a deep breath. “Just what are you trying to find out?”

  “Hantaywee told me you were from another time, somewhere in the future.”

  Kelsey stared at him, stunned. How could the old Indian woman know such a thing? She forced a smile. “Don’t tell me you believed her?”

  He was watching her, his expression serious. “She knows things, sees things that others don’t.”

  “Well, it’s true,” Kelsey said, suddenly eager to have everything out in the open. “I was born in 1981.”

  He shook his head. “How is it possible?”

  “Beats the hell out of me.” She tossed the blade of grass into the river and watched it float away. “All I know is, one day it was 2009 and in the blink of an eye, it was 1871.”

  2009? Reese swore under his breath. It wasn’t possible. No matter what Hantaywee had said, it just wasn’t possible for a body to travel backward through time.

  “That shirt you were wearing the first night I saw you,” he said, “is that what women wear in the future?”

  “Well, not all of them. But clothes have changed, like everything else. Where I come from, women don’t just stay home and have a baby every year. They wear pants, they run companies, they’re doctors and lawyers and architects and senators.”

  “Women in Congress?” He shook his head in disbelief.

  Kelsey nodded. “Yes, women can own property now. Not only that, but we have the right to vote and not just in New Jersey but in every other state in the Union.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “In 1920, as I recall.”

  “No wonder women are wearing pants in your time,” he muttered.

  Kelsey laughed. “It’s a world you wouldn’t recognize, believe me. There have been so many inventions, things that weren’t even thought of in this day and age.” She glanced around, thinking that, in some ways, life was better in his time. It was less hurried, less hectic, less confusing. The land was beautiful, the air was clean, the sky so bright and blue it almost hurt her eyes to look at it. As far as she knew, parents didn’t have to worry about their children smoking anything stronger than tobacco. Kids didn’t get shot walking down the street or sitting in a classroom or ordering a hamburger at McDonald’s. Sure, there was crime in the Old West. Banks got robbed, stagecoaches got held up, crooks cheated honest people out of their land or their hard-earned money, but at least you didn’t have to worry about some terrorist hijacking a plane and using it as a weapon.

  “So, you don’t know how you got here?” he asked.

  “Not exactly. I was in my grandmother’s house, removing some old wallpaper. I found a door behind a bookcase and when I stepped through the door, I was here, in the past.”

  “That was the night I found you in the alley?”

  “Yeah. I tried to find the door again, but…” She shrugged. “It’s like it disappeared.”

  “That’s why you’re so anxious to go back to Grant’s Crossing.”

  She nodded.

  “And if you can’t find the door, what then?”

  “Then I guess I’m stuck here.” She glanced around, thinking again how incredible it was that she was here, in this place, in this time. Across the way, a young mother sat in the shade of her lodge, an infant cradled in her arms. In front of another tipi, two little girls were playing with dolls made out of scraps of buckskin. Further on, she saw a man sharpening an arrowhead. “I don’t belong here,” she murmured.

  Reese grunted softly. They were both in places where they didn’t belong.

  Kelsey rubbed her hands over her arms. “The funny thing is, I think my grandfather came through that same door.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “My grandfather’s name is Joseph St. James. Pete says a man by that name used to frequent the Square Deal. Mr. Wexler from the hotel remembers him, too. Said he was a strange old man who liked to tell stories and that he hadn’t seen him in the last year or so. My grandfather disappeared just over a year ago. I think he’s stuck back here somewhere.”

  “Sounds like some kind of tall tale to me,” Reese muttered. “People walking through doors into the past.” He shook his head. “It isn’t possible.” And yet, as farfetched as it seemed, he had to admit that Kelsey wasn’t like any other woman he had ever met.

  “Maybe it isn’t possible,” Kelsey said, “but here I am.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping in despair. Reese was right, it sounded like a tall tale, only it was real. Either that, or this was the longest, most vivid dream she’d ever had.

  At the sound of laughter, Reese glanced upriver. Several women had brought their children down to the river. In minutes, the little ones were splashing in the water while their mothers looked on.

  “Looks like fun,” Kelsey remarked, following his gaze.

  Reese nod
ded, remembering the carefree days of his own childhood when he had splashed in the water with Chumani and Wahchinksapa. He wondered if Wahchinksapa had married and had children. Once, Reese had hoped to see Chumani’s belly grow big with his child. Nothing had turned out as he had planned…

  He persuaded Chumani to run away with him and they had left that night. Once they were married, all her doubts had faded away. A week later, more in love than ever, they had decided to return home.

  That night, they camped near a shallow stream. They had made love and then gone to the stream to bathe. Reese had seen the riders first. Too late, he had realized that his weapons were out of reach.

  “Well, now, looky here,” one of the white men had said. “Ain’t’ she the purtiest little thang I ever did see.”

  Reese had stepped in front of Chumani, blocking her nakedness from the three white men.

  “Right purty,” the second man agreed.

  The third man swung out of the saddle. “Come on outta there, honey. We ain’t gonna hurt you none.”

  “Leave her alone,” Reese had said. “She is my wife.”

  The first man drew his gun and leveled it at Reese. “She’s gonna be a widow if you don’t get out of the way.”

  Reese glanced at the shore where his knife and his rifle lay. He was wondering what his chances were of reaching his rifle when a rope settled around his upper body, pinning his arms to his sides. The man gave a sharp jerk on the rope, yanking Reese off his feet. Before he could react, the other two men dragged him to a tree, shoved him against it face first and looped the rope around him from neck to heels.

  With a cry, Chumani ran out of the water and threw herself at one of the men. Uttering a vile oath, the man spun around and backhanded her across the face. She reeled backward, gathered herself and lunged at him again. He hit her harder this time and she crumpled to the ground and lay still.

  “What’ll we do with him?” one of the men asked, gesturing at Reese.

  “Kill him.”

  With a grunt, the second man pulled his gun.

  “Hold on,” the third man said. “No use wasting a bullet.” He lifted a whip from his saddlebags. “I always wondered how many lashes it would take to kill a man. What do you think? A hundred?”