“Let’s take our daughter home, Sarah,” Chase finally said between gritted teeth. His voice sounded like that of a stranger. He reached out his hand, and wrapped his arm around her, leading her out of her parents’ home toward their own cabin.
* * * * *
Chase gazed at his sleeping daughter. He held a finger to her soft little cheek, and her lips quivered. He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. How could something so small get him all knotted up inside? He didn’t know anything about babies, other than what he’d learned in the last two months of being a dad, but it was undeniable that his little Emmy was not thriving. He had no reason to doubt what Aimee was telling him and Sarah about the baby’s condition.
He glanced toward the bunk along the wall of his simple cabin. He’d already made plans to build a larger cabin starting next spring. What the hell would it matter now if he built a place with multiple rooms? His baby might not grow up to enjoy her own bedroom.
Chase stared at Sarah curled up on their bed. She had finally fallen asleep after crying in his arms for most of the evening. She’d been inconsolable, and had begged him to talk to her parents again, urging them to help retrieve the device that could send them to the future and save Emily.
He gnashed his teeth, wanted to pound the walls with his fists. Dammit! There was nothing he could do to help his wife or his baby girl. He was supposed to protect them, and he couldn’t. Everything he’d done and worked so hard for over the last year was useless where his baby was concerned. He’d made his choice to live his life here in the past, regardless of the hardships he would have to endure. It’s what he’d wanted, because he loved Sarah more than anything. Coming here to the past, being hurled through time for whatever inexplicable reason, had been the best thing that ever could have happened to him.
A year ago, he’d been as lost here in this raw and untamed wilderness as he’d been in the twenty-first century. The difference was, he mattered here. He’d found his reason for living. Sarah had changed his entire outlook on life, and he’d gladly traded all the modern conveniences available two hundred years from this time to lead a simple and rustic life. He loved Sarah more than he’d ever thought possible, and he couldn’t imagine returning to his old life. The dangers he faced every day, from possibly getting killed by some wild animal, hostile Indian, or an unforeseen force of nature, to the hard work required to provide for his wife and baby, all gave meaning to his existence. Why the hell did his baby have to have some incurable problem that he couldn’t do anything about?
No! Not incurable, just not fixable in this time. In the future, Emily would be healthy after a surgical procedure to repair the defect in her tiny heart.
The time travel device has been disposed of where no one will ever retrieve it. We were all in agreement that it would never be used again.
Daniel Osborne was right. They all had agreed. When Chase had helped Daniel find the device that had sent him here from 2035, Daniel had promised to dispose of the ancient snakehead for good. He and Aimee had already gotten rid of it once, thinking it would be buried under the mighty Lower Falls of Yellowstone’s grand canyon forever, but somehow it must have washed ashore along the canyon to where Chase touched it by accident two hundred years later, and it had sent him here. To prevent such a thing from happening again, Daniel had tossed the thing into a hot spring called Dragon’s Mouth, knowing it would be impossible for anyone to retrieve it from there.
Chase ran a shaky hand over his weary face. There had to be a way to help his daughter, but not here in this primitive world. The only hope for Emily was in the future. It was either that, or wait and see if her heart condition would heal itself, or if he and Sarah would have to watch their daughter die. Aimee had told them today that she didn’t think Emmy was getting better. In fact, it looked to be worsening. She’d tried some herbal remedies when she first suspected that there might be a problem, but they hadn’t helped. He clenched his jaw. His daughter wouldn’t die if there was even a remote chance of saving her.
Chase bent over the baby’s crib. He kissed Emily lightly on the forehead. Studying her for a few more minutes, he strapped his weapon belt around his waist, reached for his flintlock, powder horn, and a water bladder hanging on the hook by the cabin’s door, and quietly drew back on the latch. He glanced over his shoulder toward Sarah one final time, then pulled the door open and headed out into the darkness.
Chapter Three
Chase pulled his horse to a stop atop a rise that offered a spectacular three-hundred and sixty degree view of the valley around him. Rolling hills of green grasses, interspersed with sagebrush, covered every inch of land as far as the eye could see. The sea of grass swayed like gentle ocean waves in the breeze.
Off in the distance, behind and in front of him, the hills looked nearly black, blanketed by immense lodgepole forests. Several hundred yards to his left, the blue waters of the Yellowstone River meandered slowly through the valley on its northerly course, and the hills beyond the river were dotted with the bodies of thousands of bison.
He’d already passed the canyon earlier this morning, and rested his horse along the banks of the river well past the area where the peaceful valley suddenly ended at the spectacular Yellowstone canyon. The river, which flowed lazily through this endless grassland, turned deadly as it plunged twice into the gaping canyon and churned wildly through the narrow passage. He hadn’t bothered to stop and witness this raw spectacle of nature. He’d seen it plenty of times. It was in that canyon where he’d first awoken in the past, after accidentally touching that time travel device.
Chase gazed toward the south. He was almost to his destination. Every now and then, the distinct smell of sulfur hung on the breeze, and loud sounds that could be mistaken for gunfire rang through the air. He was getting close, perhaps a couple more miles. He nudged his tired horse forward, over the rise, and up a steep slope. The sounds became louder, and the smell in the air more distinct with every minute that passed.
Riding along a ridge overlooking the Yellowstone, Chase halted his horse. He threw his right leg over the animal’s neck and hopped lightly to his feet. Patting the animal’s nose, he quickly tied some leather bindings around the gelding’s front legs to hobble him, then turned him loose to graze.
On foot, Chase made his way toward the loud sound coming from the hillside below the ridge. Peering over the ledge, he caught a glimpse of mud flinging through the air from a mighty crater below. It sure as hell looked like a mud volcano, the name the feature would receive from future explorers through this area. Why Daniel hadn’t chosen this as the final resting place for the time travel device was a mystery to him. Perhaps he’d thought the crater would just spit the thing back out.
He glanced to the south again, and left the ridgeline to follow his nose to where steam rose in mighty plumes high up into the air. Chase inhaled deeply, then climbed the rise toward the sounds of booming, belching, and sloshing, taking care where he stepped. The soil looked stable, but there was no telling where the ground was weak and might break through the crust in the earth. He’d heard enough horror stories during his short time of working with the park’s conservation core, before he got tossed back in time, of people scalding their limbs. Even the few trappers he’d met here, and Sarah’s family, told tales of people and animals cooking to death in these thermal areas.
The terrain soon leveled out, and Chase stood before a small lake that looked more like a cesspool. The mud around the edges steamed, and bubbles erupted from the blackish-green water. He kept his distance, and headed for the cavern to his left where all the noise and vapor was coming from.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. He’d only been here once, walking the safety of a wooden boardwalk. His buddies and he had joked about who was brave enough to leave the boardwalk and test out the water, but no one had actually done it. Looking at the gaping, cavernous opening now, the activity from this turbulent hot spring had certainly diminished in the future. Huge waves of scaldin
g water crashed against the rocks as water came rushing out of the side of the hill from what looked like a sea cave. Thick plumes of steam rose in the air as the rhythmic sloshing of hot water from the Dragon’s Mouth continued, sounding like an explosion each time a new wave spewed forth.
Chase moved closer. Hot steam dampened his face as if he were in a sauna, and the spray of the water seared his arms, even through the shirt he wore.
He muttered several expletives under his breath. How the hell was he supposed to get close enough to possibly catch a glimpse of the time travel device? Would it even be visible? Daniel had placed it in a leather pouch, which he had filled with rocks before tossing it into the cavern’s opening. It had been nearly a year since then. Would the device even be functional anymore? Perhaps all the minerals and the acidity of this water had dissolved it already. He hadn’t even thought of those possibilities, until now.
Chase kicked out at the dirt on the ground, cursing loudly. That snakehead would be impossible to retrieve, even if he could get closer. He ran a frustrated hand through his short hair. Two nights ago he’d left his cabin with the faint hope that he could bring back the time travel device, take away Sarah’s anguish, and save his daughter. To hell with what Daniel and Aimee had said. The means to save the life of his baby was right in front of him, yet it was completely unattainable.
Chase backed away from the belching hot spring, and sank to his haunches. Fisting his hands in the hair at his temples, he gritted his teeth and glanced skyward. Why the hell was this happening? He couldn’t fail Sarah and Emily. There had to be a way to pull the time travel device from that cavern. He picked up a rock and tossed it at the churning waves. His loud roar of frustration drowned in the explosive noise of the Dragon’s Mouth.
“Think, Russell, think,” he grumbled between clenched teeth, and lowered his back to the rocky ground, staring up at the sky. Thick, puffy, white clouds moved lazily across the azure sky, the tranquil scene belying the turmoil raging inside him. His gut twisted and churned much like the thermal feature to which he couldn’t get close. If he could cut a long tree branch and reach out into the water with it, it might be possible.
But you can’t even get close enough to see anything, let alone fish the damn thing out if you could, Russell.
Chase squeezed his eyes shut. The mud volcano a short distance away continued to emit its loud noises, mixing with those of the belching cavern. The world seemed to sink around him. Hell couldn’t feel or sound much different than the agony ripping through him at that moment.
Small rocks crunched behind him, the faint sound distinct among the hissing and churning of the water. Chase sprang to his feet, instantly alert. He spun around, his flintlock held out in front of him. No doubt that Daniel would have followed him, but unless he had noticed him leaving, Chase had two days’ head start on his father-in-law, making it impossible for him to have caught up already. If a bison had wandered into the area, or a predator, he might be toast at this point for not paying attention. If there was one lesson that had been drilled into him by Daniel that he ought to remember, it was to always be aware of your surroundings, no matter what distractions might be present.
Chase stared through the steam, and blinked. The small figure of an Indian materialized through the thick vapors. He looked ancient. His long hair was silver-gray, and the leathery skin on his face etched with deep lines and grooves. He smiled a toothless smile, and held up a hand in greeting. Chase lowered his weapon. He could probably blow the frail-looking man over with a single breath.
Chase frowned. The old Indian emerged through the steam as if he’d come straight out of the Dragon’s Mouth. He glanced up the hill and down. He must have been too absorbed in thought to hear the old man’s approach. A quick assessment of the Indian’s simple buckskin shirt and britches hinted that he was a Sheepeater.
Chase slowly raised his hand to return the old man’s greeting.
“Nuu tattsuah uu, Chase Russell,” the old man croaked, speaking in the dialect of the Tukudeka. Chase leaned forward, straining his ears to hear. His Shoshone was still rather shaky, but he quickly translated the words in his head.
“You’ve been waiting for me? Do I know you?” Chase raised his eyebrows.
The old man’s mouth opened and he laughed, which sounded more like the bark of a dying coyote. Hopefully he wouldn’t keel over dead right here in front of him. If he did, Chase couldn’t leave the body of a Shoshone elder lying around, but he also had more important things on his mind. The old man swayed slightly, and coughed. Chase’s arm shot out to steady him. His hand wrapped around nothing but bone under the buckskin.
“We have met before, Chase Russell, but you do not remember.”
Chase glanced at the frail old guy. He’d never seen him before, he was sure of it. Perhaps he’d been at the village last summer when Chase had gone off with Elk Runner, Sarah’s Tukudeka uncle, on the vision quest that made him see clearly what he needed to do to turn his life around.
“Did Elk Runner send you here?” Chase narrowed his eyes. It would be just like the crazy fool to pull a fast one on him, but how would Elk Runner know that Chase was even here, at this location?
The Indian’s raspy laugh was starting to get annoying. He held out his hand, and opened it, palm up. Chase blinked, and his heart leapt to his throat. What the hell! He swallowed, then his gaze shot to the Indian’s watery black eyes.
“I believe you have come in search of this,” the old man wheezed.
“How did you get that?”
Lying in the Indian’s bony palm was the ancient snakehead with the gleaming red eyes. Chase had only seen it once, when Daniel pointed it out, nestled between some rocks at the river’s edge deep in the Yellowstone canyon. It could have been his ticket home to the future, but he’d made his choice. Sarah was worth more than anything his own time could ever offer him.
“Get rid of it however you have to, Daniel,” he’d said to the man who was more of a father figure to him than his old man had ever been. “I don’t ever want to see it again.”
He hadn’t looked back, and made the climb out the canyon that day to follow his destiny.
The ancient Indian standing in front of him smiled. “This snake has been a part of my people since the dawning of time. Long before these mountains were as they are now, the Sky People forged this vessel to ensure the future of our homelands. We are the protectors of the land.”
Chase raised his eyebrows. This crazy old coot was saying he was one of those spirit people the Sheepeaters believed in? “I’ve heard of the Sky People. The Tukudeka believe they are the spirits of everything above them.” He gestured up at the sky.
The Indian nodded. “I am the last of my kind. My brother battled a great evil to make sure that the one the Newe call, White Wolf, was born into this world. You know him as Daniel Osborne.”
Chase ran a hand over his face. He gave a quick laugh, blinked, and shook his head. “Look, old man, maybe you’re some sort of shaman . . . a puha . . . but you’re telling me that there really are sky people,” he motioned heavenward with his finger, “and that you’re one of them?”
The old man nodded patiently. His watery eyes stared intently up at Chase, a sudden fire back in their depths. “You did not journey back in time by accident, Chase Russell. You are vital to the future and survival of these mountains.”
Chase swallowed. He didn’t believe in ghosts, or spirits, or any other hocus pocus nonsense. He’d put any thoughts of how time travel was possible out of his mind months ago, when he’d conjured all sorts of images of aliens or some sort of advanced beings in his mind. Not even Aimee Osborne had an explanation for it. Now this Indian was telling him the mysterious snakehead originated from the Sheepeaters?
The Indians that lived in this area, those whom the Osbornes considered family, were highly spiritual people, and their sky, earth, and water spirits connected everything together in their world. He’d been under the assumption that these spirits were t
he animals, plants, and rocks that comprised this land. He shrugged off the unease that washed over him.
Chase eyed the snakehead in the old man’s hand. He’d said he was expecting him. Did he also know that Emmy needed to go to the future? His heart sped up.
“You said I didn’t come here by accident. What did you mean?”
The Indian cackled loudly. “You do not remember me from two-hundred years in the future, Chase Russell. You were sick by the river, eliminating the poison you had taken into your body. I left the snake where you would touch it. You were chosen to come here, just as Dosa Haiwi was chosen to come here to unite with White Wolf. Without them, Imaah would not exist, and without your future offspring, these lands would be in jeopardy.”
What the hell was this senile old fool talking about? None of this was coincidence? Aimee Osborne’s coming here was no accident, either? Chase laughed, his extremities tingling from apprehension. He rubbed the back of his head.
“I don’t know what you’ve stuffed your pipe with, old man, but I’m definitely the wrong guy to save anything.”
“You do not need to be concerned with what the future holds for your family, Chase Russell. The events have been set in motion, and all you need to know is that you are needed.”
Chase began to pace in front of the old man, then abruptly faced him. “If you knew I was coming here to search for that snakehead, then you obviously know why.” He stared at the frail Indian. “I need to get to the future with my daughter, or else she will die.”
The Indian shook his head. His smile vanished. “Your daughter is not important.”
Chase lunged at the man, and grabbed him by the shirt, lifting the bony body easily off his feet. “The hell she’s not important,” he sneered. “She’s my daughter.”
A Yellowstone Promise: Yellowstone Romance Series Novella Page 2
