by Ford, Lizzy
I waved over my shoulder, anxious to be away. Nell waited outside the office. Snatching her arm, I tugged the woman with me back towards the carriage.
“Cousin,” Philip called.
I rolled my eyes but turned.
“If he bothers you, you tell me. He has no right to be questioning a lady about her doings,” Philip said firmly.
“You’re absolutely right, cousin,” I replied. “Thank you. I will let you know.”
Philip appeared pleased by my admission. Quelling the urge to run, I smiled at him.
“If you’ll excuse me, Philip, I am feeling unwell,” I continued. “Nell will see me home.”
“I will call on you tomorrow.”
I turned away, all but dragging Nell towards the carriage.
“We need to go,” I whispered.
“I told your father today was too soon for you to be out,” Nell said, worry in her voice. “He said you loved to go to town and wanted you to buy something special for your return. I told him, she’s not right yet, Mr. John, you can’t -”
“I’m fine,” I said, glancing back at my cousin. “I hate that man.”
Nell followed my gaze. “You best keep that to yourself, Josie. He’s powerful and wealthy. When your father is gone – God bless him – you will have to be careful of your cousin.”
I guessed that a society that valued a man’s opinion over a woman’s was going to be difficult to navigate, if I wasn’t out of there after John’s death. I was going to ignore Philip as much as possible, and not pry into his mind again. Uncertain what to do about the sheriff, the only thing that came to mind was seeking guidance from Carter.
My attention was caught once more by the crowd at the edge of town. Every fiber in my body wanted me to run home before the sheriff tracked me down, and yet, I was drawn in the direction of the market.
“You’re right, Nell,” I said. “That man will never set foot in our house, once my father is gone.”
“I reckon it’ll take a shotgun to keep him out,” Nell said.
“I think that can be arranged.”
My nanny gave a rare smile.
“Before we leave, I’m going to see the savages,” I said and started forward, determined to learn the location of where I had landed in case I needed to return to the spot.
“Miss Josie, it’s –”
“Puh-lease, Nell. Everyone saw me almost pass out. They’ll assume I’m confused.”
Nell pursed her lips and trailed. I slowed when I reached the edge of the market, taking in the goods displayed on the back of wagons or spread out on blankets. Nell was right about there being a mix: a bearded old man with gold teeth grinned as I passed a wagon bed filled with dented bronze candelabras. Two Native American women ceased talking when I reached their display of leather decorative items. Roughly hewn furniture, lanterns, horse tack, handmade blankets … there was a little bit of everything in the nineteenth century version of a flea market.
The handmade, hammered silver jewelry with polished rocks displayed by a little Indian girl caught my eye, and I did my best to crouch without grimacing to see better.
“Did you make all this?” I asked.
The girl’s eyes widened. She shook her head and pointed to a sloppily woven, leather bracelet adorned with wooden beads that lay among several others of much better skill.
I smiled and picked it up. “It’s beautiful.”
“I sew better than I braid. I make clothing, too.” The girl smiled hesitantly.
I opened my purse and dumped coins into my palm, not recognizing any of them. Standing, I turned to Nell.
“What are these?” I asked.
Nell sorted them in my palm. “Half cent, full cent, half dimes, dimes, quarter, half dollar, dollars.”
“So if I give her a quarter?” I asked, struggling to follow the different sizes.
“A quarter?” Nell appeared appalled. “Ain’t worth the half-cent she’ll charge!”
“I’m not following you at all,” I said.
“The quarter is worth fifty of the half-cent,” Nell explained.
“Ooohhh. That I understand.” I plucked the quarter free and replaced the rest of my change. I held it out to the little girl, whose eyes bulged larger than the coin offered.
Satisfied with myself, I continued onward, the bracelet in my hand.
We reached the end of the small market, and my focus shifted to the horses being herded into a corral nearby by men who appeared to be authentic cowboys.
Amazing.
“Miss Josephine.”
I turned at the unfamiliar voice to see the Native American who had accompanied the sheriff to John’s approaching, the little girl trailing him with a look of distress on her features. He held out the quarter.
“We do not need your pity,” he said firmly. His dark eyes flashed with fire, and his features were taut. He wasn’t scowling, but he wasn’t friendly either. He regarded me as if I were an alien.
“It was not pity,” I said. “Kindness. You brought me back to my father.”
“He repaid us in full.”
“But I didn’t, and it was my life,” I said. “It’s for her, to buy herself a present.”
His hand dropped. He was close enough for me to start to see his memories. He was thinking of his family, including his niece, the little girl I had bought the mal-formed bracelet from.
“If I may ask, what were you doing out there last night with the sheriff in the first place?” I asked. “When you rescued me?”
The man’s jaw tightened. His mind was racing, and I didn’t quite get how all the images I saw were connected. Compared to Nell and Philip, his memories were disjointed. There was no flow, only flashes.
“Your uncle is ill,” I said, tilting my head to the side. “He has little longer than my father, which means …” I trailed off, the images in my mind troubling me. They weren’t his memories as such but encyclopedic style historical accounts of the slaughter I was there to stop. There was no obvious connection between him and the accounts, and the disjointed picture forming confused me long enough for me to realize I was being stared at by more than one person. “Are you Running Bear?”
“I am.”
My mouth dropped open. Carter was brilliant. He dropped me off in a spot where the two men I sought rescued me!
“Miss Josie, we must go,” Nell said.
I waved her off and continued addressing Running Bear. “We need to talk,” I told him.
He stepped back. These images were memories. My eyes … they reminded him of the daughter he had lost several years before during a cavalry raid. She also had blue eyes. The disjointedness flickered, and his thoughts unfolded in a logical flow before once again breaking into flashes.
“You know who hurt your family but told your uncle, the Chief, you didn’t,” I said. “Maybe because you feared he’d talk you out of what you might be planning? A raid ... or …” I wasn’t able to tell the full story or reasoning. The empathic memory was a hodgepodge of facts and patchy memories, some of which didn’t match up at all, as if the recorded accounts about him were different. Almost like his family’s slaughter happened. And then didn’t. The history books didn’t know, but his memories were clearer.
“What are you that you know things you should not?” he managed, searching my face.
“A starman,” his niece said, smiling. “Like the shaman says. You came from the sky and landed in my uncle’s –”
“Hush, Blue Stream,” the man said harshly enough for the girl to jump. She peered up at him.
Despite his gruff rebuke, the girl held only admiration and love for her uncle, her memories of them playing earlier that day.
“What are these starmen?” I asked curiously. “You’ve seen people fall out of the sky before?”
“Yes, we – ” the girl started.
“Stay away from my people and my land,” Running Bear ordered in a voice that left me no doubt what would happen if I crossed him. He pushed the girl
away, and the two of them rejoined several natives standing a few feet away.
Starman. How many people had they seen fall from the sky? I burned to ask the girl but feared her uncle after what I had seen in the empathic history. The sheriff’s claim about there being more than one woman sent back to play the part of Josie returned.
I barely knew Carter. Did he purposely not tell me I wasn’t the first? Or was this another of his failure-to-relate-to-other-humans issues?
Running Bear met my gaze once more, and I saw it. The strange spark that lit up his aura for a split second, a sign from whatever crazy stuff Carter put in my head. Why didn’t Taylor glow like this, if he was part of whatever event was supposed to happen on the twenty fourth?
I ached to pursue and yet was afraid to after his warning.
“You, savages, keep your distance,” Philip snapped, waving his cane at them. “You will not sully the daughter of my uncle.”
The natives turned away.
“Your father is too kind to those wild men. Josie, you must need rest to have come this far. You are not in the right mind,” Philip scolded me. He waved his hand at the wares of the merchants around us. “This … junk is not worth your time. Nell, I will report to my uncle you let her dirty her hands in such a place.”
“My apologies, Mr. Philip,” Nell said.
“I know what will please your father to see you buy. I have arranged it already. Return home, and I’ll ensure it arrives.”
I almost revolted at the condescending tone. Nell shook her head, and I relented, following my alleged cousin like a good little puppy back towards the carriage. Unhappy, the ride home seemed much longer than it had going to town. My mind never strayed from the native that wanted nothing to do with me and the sheriff who knew I didn’t belong.
Only when I was in my room was I able to text Carter again.
Am I a starman? And does the person I’m looking for glow? And why did the sheriff say there were three other girls who were here before me?
I shoved it away just as Nell walked in. “Miss Josie, we must get you ready for dinner.” She had a different gown draped over her arms.
Not one to complain, I nonetheless groaned internally. I had been sweating and uncomfortable all day.
“Your father is excited,” she added with a smile. “You’ve made him so happy, Miss Josie.”
At the mention of the kindly man, I guiltily dispelled my internal grumbling about the clothing. It wasn’t right to stress the dying man out, not when I was the reason he was happy for the first time in a year. Still somewhat conflicted about whether or not I should tell him the truth, I stood and let Nell strap me back into the corset and a new gown before we headed downstairs to the formal dining room.
CHAPTER SIX
Late that night, I awoke in an outright panic. Sitting up, I stared at the crackling flames of the hearth, unable to register why I was shaking and felt the need to run. Fear flew through me, its source unknown. There had been a dark dream … two voices, a fireplace, blood …
Pain stabbed me through the temple. I gripped my head in my hands and dabbed at the warmth trickling from my nose. The sight of my blood grounded me, and I forced my stiff body to relax. It was around one in the morning, according to the collection of clocks around my room.
What is it with clocks? They’re everywhere. John had a strange obsession with time.
The curiosity as to why John liked them faded. Climbing out of bed, I crossed to the washbasin and dipped a washcloth, holding it to my nostril.
Wind whistled and howled by my window and slapped the shutters against the siding somewhere in the house. The sky was mostly clear, the moon bright, and the prairie’s grasses nearly flat from the force of the gusts. Assuming the wind woke me, I sat down next to the window, admiring the view, until my nose stopped bleeding. I wasn’t a stranger to sinus infections, and I hoped I wasn’t getting one here. It wasn’t like I could run out to Walgreens for Sudafed if I did.
An image I didn’t recognize was in my head, not mine yet not belonging to anyone else, since I was alone. It was of a cave and …
An aerial view of John’s property with a route highlighted to an unknown destination. Intrigued, I sat up. The map flashed like any other image and then faded. Not wanting to lose it, I sprang to my feet and snatched my phone from under my pillow, writing down what I could recall in a blank text.
The map was meant to be followed. I understood this as well as I knew it was not of my imagining but something placed there by whatever it was Carter did to me. I lit a lantern by following the sequence of steps Nell had gone through and walked into the adjoining dressing room to find something more comfortable than a gown to wear.
Josie had no pants. It took ten minutes of searching to find something I’d consider wearing on an adventure like I planned. There were too many elaborate gowns … and simpler gowns soft enough to tell me they were quite old. I pulled on one of those that fit more of a Regency England time period than the Old West. They had likely belonged to Josie’s grandmother or mother.
Far more comfortable in it than what Nell dressed me in, I pulled on my boots and a long riding habit of wool. Proud I’d been able to figure out how to dress myself with the overbearing clothes, I tucked my phone in a pocket and crossed to the door.
I thought for sure several times that I’d wake the entire house with all the creaking the floors did. No one stirred, though, and I made it down the groaning stairs to the bottom floor and the wide front doors. Fumbling with the locks, I was nearly blown over by the harsh wind outside and barely caught the door before it smacked the wall.
My hair tossed around me. Closing the door, I wrestled my tresses into a sloppy braid that managed to subdue most of it and ran to the barn. The wind was a combination of warm and cool as autumn blew across the plains to replace summer.
Entering the cozy, quiet barn, I sucked in a deep breath of the familiar scent of horses and hay. It took only a moment to realize that John had horses of incredible quality, along with polished, soft saddles and bridles that would cost a lot in my time.
I selected a horse and prepared him for a ride, silently thanking my aunt for pushing me into dressage when I was five.
Moments later, I was outside in the brusque wind, headed at a quick walk on horseback towards the road leading to town. When I was far enough away from the main house not to be overheard, I pushed the horse into a canter.
It was much harder to follow the map when on the road than it seemed in my head. At some point, I was supposed to leave the road and head west, towards the territory of the Native Americans. But that point … well, I failed to recall the terrain features, except that it was somewhere around a huge tree, and there weren’t many of them.
I rode over two hills before spotting the tree – and another flag marking the edge of John’s property. Hesitating only a moment, I switched directions and nudged the horse off the road, trying to follow the map in my head.
The hills continued in this direction, though I began to see shallow box canyons, a river in the distance, and wider valleys. The grasslands bowed to the wind, the rustling sound loud, while the horse snorted every once in a while and picked his way through the grasses.
Pulling out the notes I made, I checked our course to see what else I needed to look for.
“Canyon with a cave in its wall.” I read my notes aloud. “Great work, Josie. This is why you never got more than a B in college. You suck at notes.” I allowed the horse to walk in the direction it chose and closed my eyes, trying to recall the map without luck.
Gotta tell Carter the chips need to be more interactive. When they chose to work, they were fantastic. But I had no control over them, and that was annoying.
From what I remembered, the cave hadn’t been too far. I opened my eyes and stood up in the stirrups to get a better look around. Another canyon was to the east of me. The river disappeared into it, indicating it was larger than I could tell from here.
I gui
ded the horse in that direction. A trail appeared not far from where we were, and I realized the Native Americans had established paths through the grasslands. The horse followed the narrow trail towards the canyon, and we reached the edge before I pulled it to a halt.
The deep canyon seemed to come out of nowhere. Invisible from afar, it resembled something we saw in Northern Arizona in the Grand Canyon National Park, though far more isolated. The river was at the bottom, some two hundred feet below. Between us was a rocky, grassy slope – and a shelf-like trail carved by years of use that ran from the top where I was to the river.
Cave. Unable to understand its importance, I sensed … darkness from the direction of the cave in the wall below me. It had to be the empathic memory chip; there was a faint whisper, and another instinct of knowing that wasn’t inherently mine.
Doubting the path was wide enough for the horse, I left it at the top and went to the narrow path running along the canyon wall. I started down it, startled by the relative stillness and quietness of the air without the heavy wind. With one hand on the wall and another righting my scattered braid, I made my way carefully towards the cave in the side of the canyon wall. If not for the full moon, I wouldn’t be able to see where I went.
The whisper intensified, and half-formed visions bombarded my thoughts. I stopped several steps before the cave.
None of these images were good. Even if I couldn’t quite grasp them and didn’t understand their sources, I could tell something bad happened here. It was like the introduction to a horror movie: slashes of red and black, shadowy movements, the unexplained kaleidoscope of places and inanimate objects, and the general sense of foreboding that made the hair at the back of my neck stand up and my heart race.
A fire flickered to life, casting light and shadows outside the cave, and I sucked in a sharp breath. My intuition was urging me to flee. The map brought me here for a reason, though. I needed to find this cave or maybe, the person inside it.
Be like Amy Pond, I told myself again. She had never backed down from an adventure on Doctor Who. Carter was sort of like the Doctor. At least, I didn’t think he sent me here for me to die before I had a chance to change history the way he wanted. I purposely didn’t think about what I had learned, that there might’ve been other girls sent back before me.
