Smith's Monthly #14

by Smith, Dean Wesley

  Not sure how that was possible or what to do about it, but after what Bonnie said, at least she had some options.

  She still had no idea how to meet the man, but she had a few months this time back, and hundreds of other trips as well if she needed them.

  She once again crawled into the wonderful featherbed and with one last thought of a handsome man named Carson, she fell asleep.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  August 6, 1902

  Idanha Hotel, Boise, Idaho

  Carson decided that he needed to see Sherri Edwards again before she and Duster and Bonnie showed up at his home. He wasn’t honestly sure what kind of cover story Duster and Bonnie and Sherri would come up with to knock on his door, but more than likely it would be a good one.

  And he had a hunch they would be riding out his way today.

  Last evening he had sat and thought back over every detail about how Bonnie and Duster had told him about the mine. It was a lot of years ago in his life, centuries back, so the memory had grown fuzzy.

  He did remember they had approached him with Dawn and Madison, two of the most respected historians he had ever heard about.

  Duster said they had read his doctorial thesis on World War I and had researched him and had said they could help him add in the details he was missing when he published books on the topic and the time period.

  They hadn’t said how at the time.

  The fall before he had just taken a professor’s job at the university in Boise, mostly so he could write that first book between classes. He had been stunned they even knew him in any way. Dawn said she was the one who had run across his thesis work and since he was local, she thought he would be a good choice to help.

  He learned later that they had helped others. But he hadn’t known about Sherri and he had no idea what that meant at all.

  Was it possible that they knew him from here in 1902 before they asked him to go to the crystal cave?

  Then how did he get here in the first place?

  That seemed like a nasty loop of some sort and the math of that was far, far beyond him.

  But he was worried that if he didn’t introduce himself to them, he wouldn’t be back here in a lot of different timelines, or if he did introduce himself, the same thing would happen.

  As with most timelines, decisions like that caused other timelines to break off.

  And all of that was complicated by his desire to meet Sherri Edwards and get to know her.

  In all his many trips into the past, he had always prided himself on being slow and steady and sure of his actions. Suddenly he felt uncertain and actually afraid of a decision.

  That was not like him at all.

  So finally he decided to just play along and see where it led.

  He saddled up Sandy before the sun broke over the hill and while the sky was still red with the sunrise. He left her at the stable behind the Idanha Hotel about fifteen minutes before six in the morning.

  The large double doors to the restaurant were still closed, so he picked up a paper and stood against a column reading it while watching the stairs.

  He couldn’t believe how nervous he felt waiting for her to come down those stairs. He almost felt like a stalker. A time-traveling stalker, but still a stalker.

  The restaurant doors opened at six and he went in and sat at the same table he had been at the day before.

  About ten minutes later, Dawn and Sherri came down the stairs together, laughing at something. Both were dressed in summer dresses and looked radiant. Sherri had on a light blue dress and a matching blue floppy summer hat with a lighter-blue ribbon around the top. She moved as if she had always worn clothes from 1902.

  Had she been coming back to the past before now? He doubted it from her reaction yesterday being alone. More than likely she was just relaxing and what he was seeing now was the real woman.

  His breath caught and his stomach tightened up as he watched her walk across the big lobby and toward the restaurant doors. Her smile was radiant and clearly she was starting to enjoy being in the past. He had no idea who she really was except for what little he could remember from the newspaper article about her remodeling his home in 2017. And that was damn little.

  They sat at the same table as yesterday and as Sherri got seated, she looked up and saw him.

  He smiled at her and nodded.

  Her eyes went round, her smile froze, and he could see her blush.

  She quickly nodded back and then looked down at her napkin.

  At that moment Duster and Bonnie joined them, so Carson went to reading his paper, blocking most of his face from them with the paper until his breakfast came.

  As he laid down his paper, he caught her looking at him. She smiled, this time clearly not startled at seeing him, and he smiled back, holding her gaze.

  More than anything in the world he wanted to just stand up and go introduce himself. But he just didn’t dare.

  At least not yet.

  Finally, Bonnie said something and Sherri turned to answer her and Carson was set free from her long enough to focus on his breakfast.

  He finished ahead of them and had no idea how to introduce himself to Sherri without telling Bonnie and Duster who he was, so he just folded up the newspaper and headed for the door, giving her another nod and smile as he did.

  He sure wished he knew the math of all this to know what to do.

  Decision points. Wasn’t that what caused so many timelines?

  She smiled back and luckily, neither Duster nor Bonnie saw him leave. But the morning had only made his desire to meet Sherri even stronger, if that was possible.

  And he had no doubt that Duster and Bonnie and Dawn and Sherri were all headed for his home at one point or another. They would have no way of knowing he owned the place. He had left no evidence behind, including any pictures of him or even his first name on any deed. He had signed everything just Edwards.

  So they had come here to meet the mysterious Edwards who killed himself in two months.

  Weren’t they going to be in for a surprise.

  Around town he was known as Carson, not Edwards. He had always figured it was better to not let the people around town know exactly where he lived, or just how rich he was.

  Safer that way.

  So he got Sandy out of the stable behind the Idanha Hotel and headed home, riding at a comfortable pace for the still moderately cool morning. The clear blue skies warned of another hot day. He better get home and make some iced tea. He had no doubt he was going to have company very, very soon.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  August 6, 1902

  Outside of Boise, Idaho

  Sherri brushed a loose strand of her long black hair out of her face and tucked it back under the comb holding her hair under her sun hat. She just stared at the beautiful mansion sitting back in the oak trees like she had seen a ghost.

  The front porch white railings spanned between the polished mahogany columns that shined with a gleam she had only dreamed about. A simple chair sat on the porch next to a small table to hold drinks. The owner of this home must have sat there just as she had imagined doing on her porch.

  The smooth river-stone walkway that led from the dirt Warm Springs Avenue up to the house seemed far wider than she had ever imagined. And the tan and brown patterned drapes that she could see through the huge windows hung perfectly.

  The entire mansion was shaded by huge old oak and cottonwood trees, giving the grounds a feeling of a southern plantation. She could see through the trees and past the main building and carriage house and stable to the Boise River beyond down the bluff.

  If not for the different forms of trees and stone, she could have been standing in the Deep South looking at a wonderful mansion.

  She had seen pictures of the Edwards mansion in its glory, but she could not believe it had actually existed this way. The mansion was exactly how she hoped to have it look once again when she finished the remodeling in 2017.

  Yet now she stood
here in 1902, on the edge of the pathway leading up to the mansion, seeing her own home for herself in all its original glory, seeing it before years of neglect and abandonment had reduced it to something that really needed to be torn down, not restored.

  There had been many times over the few months fighting the ghost that she had regretted the impulsive buy of the old mansion just because it had her family name attached. No one who had lived in it had actually been a relative, but in her haste to buy the old place, that hadn’t mattered in the slightest.

  And neither had the rumors of a ghost until she got inside and actually heard it.

  Now she was going to meet the man who had killed himself and created a ghost. And she was going to meet him just two months before his death. She had no idea what she and Bonnie and Duster planned on doing. But at this point, she was enjoying the trip into the past so much, the ghost just seemed less important.

  Besides, how do you stop a man from becoming a ghost? And if they did, would it help her or would she lose the mansion. Questions to ask Bonnie and Duster later.

  Bonnie took Sherri’s arm gently as a proper lady in 1902 would do to make sure she was all right. “Hard to imagine you are actually standing here, isn’t it?”

  “Impossible,” Sherri said. She had been in the past for three long days now and it still seemed far too much to believe.

  “Not impossible,” Duster, said, coming back from securing the horses to a tree near the road. “You are actually here. You want to pinch her, Bonnie, and prove it?”

  Bonnie glanced over at Duster with a look that only a wife can give a husband as Sherri laughed.

  “If seeing Silver City before it became a ghost town and the two-day painful horseback ride here to Boise didn’t convince me, no amount of pinching is going to do it. And that’s not to mention just how uncomfortable these dresses are.”

  “Good point,” Duster said, smiling.

  At the Idanha Hotel, Dawn had had to help Sherri get into her cotton summer dress of light blue before breakfast. The women in this time period really wore a lot of clothes as far as Sherri was concerned, far more than was needed for a hot August day. She had a small chest, so she had opted to not go with the bra that felt more like a prison device, but the dress had forced her to wear petticoats.

  When she had looked in the mirror, she thought she ended up looking pretty darned nice. And she was glad she did because that hot guy named Carson had been in the dining room again. She couldn’t believe how hard she had fallen for a man in 1902, someone she knew nothing at all about.

  But with luck, she would find out more.

  She just didn’t know how yet.

  Duster took off his wide-brimmed cowboy hat and wiped the sweat off his forehead before putting it back on. He had on his brown oilcloth duster. Under the duster he had on a thin silk shirt and black jeans.

  “Are we going to stand out here or go in?” Duster asked. “Not getting any cooler. I’m starting to think Dawn had the right idea by staying back in the hotel.”

  Bonnie laughed. “Give Sherri a minute. This is why she came here.”

  Sherri just kept staring at the wonderful mansion, memorizing every detail. Somehow she would beat the ghost and have her home look like this.

  Finally she turned to Bonnie and Duster. “I’m a reporter doing an article for a few different New York magazines on the great mansions of the West, right?”

  Bonnie nodded.

  Sherri took a deep breath and indicated that Duster should lead the way along the path toward the home.

  Her home in 2016.

  If she could just beat the damn ghost.

  PART TWO

  Meeting the Ghost

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  August 6, 1902

  Outside of Boise, Idaho

  Carson watched from the shadows back in his home out the front window as Bonnie and Duster and Sherri stood at the end of his long walk, talking and staring at the home. Dawn must have stayed back in town. He didn’t blame her. The day was getting very warm.

  Even from this much distance, he was still attracted to Sherri. How was that even possible? He had lived for so many hundreds of years, been with his share of women, but never once felt like this.

  Finally, the three turned and started up the walkway toward his front door, Duster leading.

  Carson’s stomach clinched into a fist.

  It was now or never.

  And more than likely, if he didn’t tell them who he really was, spending any real time with them now would cause Bonnie and Duster to recognize him in 2017.

  So he could hide and pretend he wasn’t home, or he could face them and take the chance.

  Or he could tell them the truth.

  If it wasn’t for his attraction to Sherri, he would hide.

  He heard their steps on his wooden front staircase and then knocking at the front door.

  They were the first people to visit his home since the last of the construction workers left twenty years ago. He was proud of this place, and clearly Sherri, a woman he was attracted to beyond words, wanted to see his home as well.

  Screw it. He was going to go for it.

  He went to the front door and opened it, swallowing all his fear and putting on his best smile.

  Duster was standing there, looking slightly stunned as Carson opened the screen door and stepped outside, letting the screen close behind him.

  All three of them seemed stunned to see him.

  And he didn’t dare look at Sherri yet.

  “Hello, Duster,” Carson said, extending his hand and shaking Duster’s hand.

  “Carson,” Duster said, nodding and shaking his hand. “I didn’t know this was your place.”

  “Better to keep how much money I have secret from the likes of poker players like you,” Carson said.

  Duster laughed and turned slightly.

  “This is my wife, Bonnie,”

  Carson took her offered hand and bowed slightly. “An honor.”

  “Thank you,” Bonnie said.

  “And this is our good friend, Sherri Edwards,” Duster said.

  Carson turned to Sherri and could hardly breathe. He was close to her and looking into her dark eyes. He could tell she was shocked and blushing. He at least knew she was coming, but if she was as attracted to him as he was to her, she was going to be lucky to even nod.

  She extended her hand and he took it. Her skin was smooth, firm, and sent electrical shocks through his body.

  He managed to bow slightly without taking his gaze from her wonderful eyes. “An honor. I had been hoping to meet you after seeing you at breakfast. I never expected you to come calling.”

  Duster chuckled lightly.

  Bonnie said, “Ms. Edwards is a writer doing articles on western mansions for a number of New York magazines.”

  “I am honored,” Carson said, finally letting her hand go, even though he did not want to. “Would you like to see the inside after I get us all some iced tea?”

  “I would love that,” Sherri said, her voice surprisingly level and her smile real.

  He held the massive wood and stained glass door for them, and all three of them barely got three steps into his entry parlor before stopping and staring at the grand staircase curving up to the left and the wonderful craftsmanship of the wood and the amazing crystal chandelier he had imported from Europe.

  The stairs were a polished mahogany with an ornate carpet runner going up the middle of them. The ceiling in this front area was a good twenty feet in the air. It didn’t echo because of the long drapes hanging beside the front windows on either side of the large front door.

  He seldom came into the mansion this way, so it was nice to see the effect it had on others.

  All three of them were just staring, mouths open.

  “This is amazing,” Sherri said, clearly breathless.

  “Thank you,” he said. “It’s a surprisingly comfortable home to live in as well. Let’s have tea on the back porch before the
grand tour.”

  He turned to Duster. “You might want to bring the horses around to the back away from the road.”

  Duster nodded and went back out the front door.

  Carson led the two women past the staircase, through a dining area and then past the large kitchen to his back porch. He didn’t look back at Sherri at all, even though he wanted to.

  He got his guests settled on the back porch on chairs he had taken out of storage earlier for just this moment. The back porch overlooked the wide back lawn and the river below and could steady the nerves of just about anyone. He was going to need it because he was about as nervous as he had ever been in his life.

  Not even dating in high school had got him this worked up and scared. You would think after living for almost eight hundred years, he would have gotten past this sort of thing.

  Duster tied up the horses to one side of the house and joined them on the back porch as Carson went inside to get the tea.

  He had the tea all ready, and ice chips in the icebox, but for the few minutes he was in the kitchen he could hear them whispering. He smiled at that. He could only imagine what they were saying.

  He served them all iced tea in a crystal pitcher set with real ice, which both Bonnie and Duster looked at with puzzlement, but said nothing. He knew for a fact they were wondering exactly how he got ice on a warm day in August without even being away from them for more than a few minutes to pour the tea.

  In this time period, ice was usually stored in huge chunks in a basement icehouse-like room that took time to go to and chip off ice. Wouldn’t they be shocked to learn he had a small ice machine in his hidden basement.

  Sherri was doing everything in her power to not look at him, which he felt was funny. He caught her eye and each time she would look quickly away.

  She was as attracted to him as much as he was to her, of that there was no doubt.

  But he also knew she was now worried about his coming death in September.