A Lifetime with You: Timeswept Soulmates

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A Lifetime with You: Timeswept Soulmates Page 2

by Ginny Sterling


  “I am here to help, Child. We always help little lambs that are astray,” the woman said with a knowing smile.

  Riley stared at her and sat forcefully in a chair as she felt her knees give out. “You know?” she whispered, stunned. There was knowledge in her eyes! Sympathy, understanding and a knowing look that made Riley feel weak.

  “Know what?”

  “You know…” she repeated helplessly as she stared at the peaceful face. When there was the merest nod, Riley felt her jaw drop and felt sick. It was real, all of it. The accident, the dilapidated town, the people in costume. “Where the fu-”

  “No, Ma’am,” the woman said abruptly with a frown, cutting her off. “Ladies do not use language like that and, frankly, I’m shocked at the mouth you have on you. Is that how you people talk nowadays?”

  Obligingly, Riley snapped her mouth shut quickly and stared at her dumbfounded. She was sincerely glad that she was sitting in the chair because she was one hundred percent sure that she’d have collapsed onto the floor at this point. She wasn’t high nor was she in Manhattan. Am I dead and this is hell? She thought.

  “No, you said you wanted help and didn’t want to die just yet,” the older woman said with an abrupt nod, handing Riley an apple. She accepted it numbly and then realized she hadn’t said the words aloud. Are you God? She thought fearfully, watching the woman carefully.

  “Heavens no, Child. You asked for help and it was granted. Simple as that,” she said matter of factly, polishing an apple of her own with her apron. “You asked, He heard.”

  “Jumping Jehosha-”

  The strange woman leaned forward in her seat, irritated and stopped her again. “He doesn’t like that either,” she said bluntly. “If you must curse, Child, don’t use anything with His name in vain. How about saying ‘fudge’ or ‘darn’… or even my favorite, butter beans?”

  Nodding dumbly, she weakly repeated, “Butter beans.”

  “Good girl. Now, eat up. I can hear your stomach growling from here.”

  Riley took a bite of the apple and began chewing. “Who the he- are you?” Riley asked with a full mouth.

  “Eve,” she answered easily with a wicked smile, taking a bite of the apple in her own hands.

  Riley spat the apple out of her mouth, horrified and stared at the woman who roared with laughter, slapping her knee.

  “That never, ever gets old!” she said humorously.

  “You bi--” Riley said angrily and then was suddenly silent with a small choking pressure on her throat. She glanced up at Eve only to find her once warm eyes were now completely fathomless and black in color. It was eerie to see the two black orbs encompassing her eye sockets where the blue eyes once had been. She looked downright demonic and pissed.

  “Butter. Beans,” Eve stressed evenly in a flat voice and stared at Riley. “Butter. Beans. Got it? Everything comes with rules. Some simple, some not. Rules!” she emphasized. “My first rule is taking care of that filthy mouth.”

  Riley nodded silently and the pressure was released just as quickly as it had appeared. “We’ll just keep you silent while I talk since you are having a problem expressing yourself without offending the ears. Got it?” Riley nodded her agreement. She sat as a captive audience as she listened to Eve speak. As the woman told her tale, it was odd seeing the black slowly recede from her eyes while she spoke. She was not the Eve, but another. Not demonic, not evil, not angelic… but something in between.

  “I’m not your fairy godmother, either. Just a friend to guide you if you need,” she explained. “And you had a desperate need a few moments ago. He heard you and decided to place you here, where there is also a need to be filled as well. So here you are.” Eve cocked her head to the side as if she were listening to something and then smiled.

  “No, it’s not a game where if you finish you get to go home. You asked for another chance and you have it. Not many get another chance and absolutely none get to pick or choose. You’ve been blessed with a special opportunity. Now, let’s see what you make of it.” Standing, Eve shook out her skirts and smoothed her apron sedately.

  “We need to get you changed into something appropriate for the time period,” Eve said as she pulled a cotton gown from the wardrobe on the far wall. Reaching in, she grabbed some other items with a smile. “Come, come! We need to get you ready.”

  Eve hesitated with a strange look on her face. Smiling at Riley, she added simply, “Your ride will be here momentarily to help you and you want to be prepared.”

  Opening her mouth, no sound exited from Riley’s lips. Where am I going? When do I get my voice back? she thought, hoping Eve could hear her.

  “Your life here begins in a few moments. Make the best of it, Dearie, and I am sure you will be happy,” Eve told her gently, patting her on the cheek. “You’ll have your voice the moment you walk through the door. Remember, different time, different society. Butter beans, my potty-mouthed child. That is my rule for you. Each time you curse, it makes you look uncouth in this time period. So, my rule is no cursing. Simply put, if you curse, you lose your voice for a day. Keep it up and it might end up longer than that,” she said with a grin at Riley.

  Riley silently obeyed the woman as she disrobed. She thought back to her days in high school gym class where she was in the locker room changing with the other girls. Shutting her eyes, she allowed herself to be gowned in the coarse fabric and then laced into the corset. Riley didn’t remove her bra or underwear. She was terribly relieved it wasn’t insisted upon either. Eve pulled the gown over Riley’s head and buttoned it along the back.

  “There!” Eve exclaimed with a satisfied smile. “You look like you’ll fit right in.”

  Turning, Riley stared at the woman in the mirror. It was her face, her hair just like normal, except different. If she imagined the mirror to be in sepia colors, it would resemble a daguerreotype photo from olden times.

  “Exactly!” Eve agreed. “This is the look we were going for, Child.” The two heard a knock on the front door. Riley turned to Eve, wide eyed and fearful.

  “You’ll be just fine, dear girl. Trust your instincts, trust yourself and trust in Him. This is your chance to have the life you deserved, remember? Through that door is your future… here, in the past,” she said with a grin. Eve wrapped an arm around Riley’s waist and Riley was certain she was shaking. This was downright freaky!!

  Butter beans! Butter beans! She thought wildly, causing Eve to cackle in laughter beside her.

  “That’s right! You’ll be fine, Child. Have faith! You did before and you are here,” Eve chided. “Simply do it again, Riley. You have a place here. There is a calling. You’ll know it when you find it. Don’t fight the calling, it will go easier,” she said gently as if that explained everything. Riley watched Eve turn the door knob and open the door.

  Riley saw the portly, old sheriff on the other side. “This her?”

  “Yes, she is a bit skittish but will be compliant. She’s the mail order bride you are looking for,” Eve said easily, with a sly smile towards Riley’s stunned face. You are getting married, my dear. Go with it, trust your gut. Trust Him. Above all, watch that mouth.

  Riley opened her mouth to argue, yet nothing came out. Eve shook her head with a smile. You’ll be married. Remember, you have a purpose and a place. It’s here, for the time being.

  Butter beans! BUTTER BEANS!!! Riley screamed in her head, afraid to curse. She was fearful that she wouldn’t get her voice back and be trapped here, wherever here was, as a mute for having a filthy mouth.

  Eve leaned forward towards Riley, whispering, “As I promised, through the door you’ll have your voice and your life. Make the best of it, Child. Adapt, grow, learn and enjoy your time in Texas, 1845.”

  Chapter 2

  Riley felt lightheaded and shook her head to clear it. Texas 1845? Did I hear that right? She felt Eve shove her through the doorway onto the plank board walkway. The sheriff grabbed her arm as if to steady her, yet Riley pulled free from
his hand turning towards the doorway. Stunned, she watched Eve step backwards into the small house with a genuine, wide smile as she faded into the darkness of the house. Literally faded! The doorway didn’t shut, it hung open blankly because Eve was no longer there.

  Standing there speechless, Riley stared at the opening for a moment, hearing the sheriff tell her to “saddle up”. Numb, scared and unsure, she was tempted to run back into the house and stay there until Eve reappeared. Then she heard Eve’s voice.

  Riley, make the best of this second chance you are getting. Go with your gut instincts and have faith. It will be okay.

  It was almost as if she felt a caress on her cheek. Riley understood she was on her own. The roaring in her ears was subsiding as she realized that she had nowhere to go but with the sheriff. She couldn’t stay, she knew no one. She went with the one thing that had been drummed into her head as a child: If you are lost, you find the police and go with them. Sheriff was basically the same as the police, right?

  The sheriff helped her get on the horse and Riley explained that she had never ridden before. She heard him reassure her that they would simply walk the horses along to their destination unless something happened. Like what? She wanted to scream.

  “What’s your name, young’un?” he asked her once she was in the saddle. He turned his head to the side and spat a massive wad of brown juice onto the ground. Disgusting!

  “Riley Butler,” she said automatically and cleared her throat. She had her voice back just as Eve promised! “It’s Riley Butler, Sir,” she repeated, staring at his back.

  “Humph! Riley is a man’s name,” he said, pulling the reins of her horse.

  “It’s a familial name,” she explained.

  “Don’t really care,” he answered, not looking at her. “I’m here to deliver you and your name doesn’t match the billet. So, who are you going to or do you even know?”

  Oh, dear Lor- butter beans!! She remembered quickly and coughed as she felt a reminding pressure on her neck. “Um, what was the question?” she asked, hesitating and wracking her brain. Who was she going to? Eve said she was a mail order bride. For who?

  “Who’s your husband? Who sent for you?” he said, irritated. Pointing at his head angrily, he asked, “You dense or something?”

  Fudge! Fudge! Butter beans! Fudge!

  Think Riley! Think of a name! New life, new adventure, new world. Think of a simple name that could be anyone. Just then, the breeze picked up as if it were whispering to her. Listening, she hoped Eve would give her a name or a hint but there was nothing. Simply a breeze. She felt like freaking Pocahontas in the Disney movie.

  “John Smith,” she whispered and shut her eyes, praying that was a valid name to give out.

  His uproarious laughter caused Riley to open her eyes quickly in mortified shock. He was slapping his knee and wiping his eyes. He was laughing at her? Was that a mistake to use the name? What if there was no John Smith here?

  “Ol’ Smith, huh? Wooooo! Now that is a funny one,” he said, tipping his hat back from his eyes. “Guess you like ’em big and mean, huh?”

  No!

  “He is big and mean to people?” she repeated stupidly. Her expression must have been quite stunned because the old man continued his laughter as they walked the horses down the main street dividing the town in half. She felt like she was a lamb being led to the slaughter instead of a bride heading to the altar.

  “Perhaps it’s not John,” she said lamely, grasping at straws. She couldn’t be stuck here in the past with a mean man, could she?

  “You said John and John is expecting someone. So, unless you can think of a different person or reason I shouldn’t deliver you, you’d best prepare yourself for your new home,” he said with a smirk and grinned. Clicking his tongue and swatting the rump of her horse, they started forward.

  Riley said nothing. She just hung on to the pommel of the saddle as she grasped it for dear life.

  They rode for hours on end. And while it was beautiful countryside, the ride itself was full of anxiety for Riley. Texas. How exactly did she end up in Texas instead of New York? So, she was magically whisked from her car accident to another time, another location but had the same body? Didn’t this stuff involve some sort of voodoo or body snatching? Where was the other woman? Where was Eve?

  Blessedly, they had come to a stop to water the horses and Riley flopped down ungainly. She felt like her legs were chaffed where the saddle had rubbed, but the worst part was how tender her muscles seemed to be. When she dropped down, her other leg slipped downward as if it were made of rubber. Once she was down, she tried smoothing her gown that was bunched awkwardly underneath the overdress. Petticoats suck, she thought. This corset sucks, too, honestly.

  “You really can’t ride, can you?” The sheriff choked on his laughter. “Girl, this has been the funniest delivery I have had in some time,” he said lightly, releasing his own horse’s lead. Following his movements, she dropped her own tether and watched the horse walk towards the stream of its own volition. That just seemed so neat to her until she saw that the sheriff was standing at the stream as well.

  Urinating.

  “What are you doing?” Riley yelped uncomfortably towards the man. Seeing him turn towards her, she covered her eyes quickly. The last thing she wanted to see was an old man’s wee-wee.

  “Lady, I’m taking a piss and I suggest you do the same,” he said simply and went back to peeing in the stream that the horses were drinking from. Riley felt bile rise in her stomach and prayed that the horses were upstream rather than downstream. Nasty creature he was!

  Disgusted, she kept her face averted and turned to look around at their surroundings. Just where were the facilities? Okay, Riley. Old west time, remember? Texas. I don’t see a cabin or outhouse… and then it dawned on her. She would have to relieve herself behind a bush just like if she was camping. Talk about roughing it!

  In Manhattan, if she had to use a cigarette-burned toilet, she’d have considered that roughing it. There’d have been no way in he- correcting herself quickly. There would have been no way that her legs would have ever contacted the seat. Now she was expected to go in the bushes.

  “C’mon, little girl,” she heard him yell. Riley shouted back, frustrated at her predicament. She had to go to the bathroom and squatting with the petticoats wasn’t feasible! How did women do this?

  “Just a moment!” she yelped and made a run for it over the hill. Riley did her business and further made herself a mental note of things that she would need to change or get used to in this time period. Toilet paper being her top priority! Paling, she realized there would be no maxi pads or tampons either. Oh no! she thought wretchedly.

  Disgusted and jaded, Riley decided she would spend the rest of the ride trying to think of a nastier curse word that could be said other than butter beans or fudge. Something with a bite to it, simply because she didn’t want to tempt fate or whatever Eve was.

  The sun was getting low in the sky when she finally saw something on the horizon. It didn’t look to be too large in size. She wondered if this was it or if they had to continue on. Riley’s legs were terribly sore and her guide had been utterly silent except for the occasional chuckle for no reason. She assumed that she was still the object of his humor. Honestly, it irritated her to be the butt of his jokes. His snide remark about her manly name had come up a few times during the ride and each time she answered, he would hush her. That was getting old really fast! Riley understood that she, as a woman, had a place according to him.

  Part of her wanted to incite the women’s movement. She didn’t want to be trapped barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen! She was a defense lawyer, she thought abysmally.

  Was.

  Past tense. Now, she was simply a female in a male-domineered era. This would definitely be different for her and she was still working on her list of curse words to use. Riley wondered absently if Toledo would work, instead of Holy Toledo. As she was thinking, she about bit he
r tongue when she saw him.

  The man was huge and casting a shadow as the light inside the cabin illuminated his form. He filled the entire doorway, she thought, shocked. The large man had to be John Smith. She watched him walk forward a few steps as if to greet them.

  The sheriff had started cackling, once again, and it was blatantly obvious it was at her. The sheriff met her eyes, his sparkling with comedy at her meeting her future husband. Her own eyes were fierce with an unspoken challenge. She wanted to throttle that wretched sheriff! Riley hated being laughed at, much less by someone who she considered less than herself. It wasn’t arrogance or smugness, simply the fact that she felt the more professional of the two. She couldn’t imagine going into a courtroom laughing at the client. Putting on her game face, she smoothed her expression and prepared herself to meet her newly intended, who was very much unintended.

  Riley watched the man in the distance for some time. He stood like a monolith with the setting sun to his back. Dark hair and a large form was all she could see until she was practically upon him. As she pulled up with the sheriff on horseback, she noticed the lack of warmth in his face and eyes. The man was cold. Greeeaaat, she thought, this should be a blast.

  Now that she had gotten closer, she was able to really see the mysterious John Smith. Unfortunately, from what she could tell upon a cursory glance, he was nothing like the cartoon from Pocahontas. Disappointment! she thought, could she at least get stuck with a hottie?

  Instead of blond and a devastating smile, he was dark, stoic and downright raggedy looking if she was honest in her opinion. Riley could only equate his looks to what she could imagine Grizzly Adams looked like. His dark beard hid most of his face, including the area where he should have a mouth. Instead, there was no parting of the great monstrosity of a beard. The only spark of color to him seemed to be coming from his eyes. Cold, dark eyes watched her carefully. Guarded, jaded… wounded?

 

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