by Bess McBride
He left the trailer and walked down the street toward the Sunset Inn.
The photograph in the book: that was definitely him. He remembered posing that day, in February 1881, with a few of the other diggers. The local newspaper had asked them to pose, and he had agreed. He hadn’t realized the photograph had been included in something so permanent as a book. He hoped Hilly had believed his lie, but he was beginning to hate himself for all the lies he was telling her. In fact, had he told her the truth about anything?
He didn’t know what had happened when they touched hands. The images had been so clear. And he was pretty sure Hilly had seen images of his life. The woman in the photograph—Susan. He’d been engaged to her in Iowa, but she’d broken his heart and married someone else—someone who had settled down to his farm. Funny though, he could hardly remember her. Though it had happened only a few years ago, it seemed like a lifetime ago.
The only woman’s face he could see at the moment was Hilly’s. Hilly, who was as close to finding out about him as anyone had come in the six months he’d been stuck in the future, Hilly with the blue eyes like crystal and long red hair.
Even if he couldn’t get back, what could he possibly offer Hilly? He didn’t make enough money to support a wife. He didn’t have one of those cars people drove around in. He’d heard from Larry that a license was needed to drive one. How could he get one of those? No one saddled up a wagon and drove to the nearby towns of Bisbee or Sierra Vista anymore. The replica of the stagecoach didn’t even go to any of the bigger towns anymore but just drove tourists up and down the streets of Tombstone. He’d had a mind to borrow the coach to get to Sierra Vista but the one time he had ridden in with Larry to Sierra Vista, the road had been filled with fast-moving cars. No room for a stagecoach, probably not even a horse. The cars would surely spook a horse or a mule.
He looked up to see Hilly waiting for him in front of the inn. She looked beautiful. The sun shone on her auburn hair. She wore trousers again which he had grown used to seeing on women, and her blouse hung loosely in front. She didn’t seem to like tucking her clothes in. But on her, it looked good. He didn’t mind, not one little bit.
If only he could get back to his claim and make it pay. Then he could offer a woman something. He could offer Hilly something. He chewed on his lip. Of course, if he could get back in time and make his mine pay out, how was he supposed to get back to her? He was making too much of this thing, needed to rein his thoughts in.
“Hi,” Hilly said with a broad smile. “Do you walk everywhere? Somehow, I see you riding a horse.” She flashed him a teasing smile.
“I do,” he said with a grin. “I don’t have a car, and sadly, I don’t have a horse right now either.”
Hilly’s eyes widened, and he wondered what he had said.
“I had a horse, but he died.” That was partly true. By now, Joe, his horse, would have died.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hilly said. “I’ve never had a horse,” she added, with an almost wistful tone. “I’m just a suburban girl.”
“Suh-bur-bin?”
“You know, the suburbs? Towns surrounding big cities? Where people live and shop who don’t want to live in the big cities?”
“Oh, the suburbs!” Clint repeated as if he understood. He didn’t, but that was fine. “Well, horses are a lot of work—they can be cantankerous cusses that bite, kick and toss you on your backside. Not my old boy, Joe, though. He was a good horse.”
Hilly smiled, and Clint held out his arm. “I thought we’d eat at the café. Is that okay? It’s nearby and they have really good food for dinner.”
Hilly nodded and took his arm. Just as soon as she did, he saw the same images and maybe a few more—a small blue house, a little redheaded girl and boy playing in the yard. Her brother?
Hilly must have seen something because she caught her breath. His heart stopped. What had she seen?
“What is it?” Clint said. He dropped his arm, and her hand fell to her side. “Did you see something?”
“I’m not sure. I hate to say it, Clint, but I keep seeing you in some sort of past setting. I thought I saw an image of you—like the picture—with a pickaxe, but in some sort of hole—maybe a mineshaft? You were on your knees, chipping at the rock.” She shook her head. “Maybe I’m just superimposing you onto the picture in the book.”
“Maybe so,” Clint murmured. He hesitated to offer her his arm in case she more things, but it was rude not to. Besides, he really did enjoy the electric sensation that went through him at her touch. He held out his arm. “Wanna try it again?”
Hilly tucked her hand under his arm, and although he saw more images of the two children, he didn’t release her. As much as he hated to say it, he was becoming pretty good at lying, or at least avoiding the truth, and he thought he could get by with another lie if she saw anything else about his past. He looked down at her puzzled face as they walked. It wasn’t as if he was hurting her or anything. He just wanted to spend as much time with her as he could before she left. She would be gone, and she’d never know the truth. He hated the thought. Hated it.
A few local townsfolk were seated at tables and booths in the cafe. Sharon handed them menus and pointed to a booth. Clint was grateful she and Pat kept to themselves and didn’t worry about who was on whose arm. He knew from experience that was pretty common for a small town.
“Do you know any of these people?” Hilly asked after they had placed their orders with Sharon.
Clint thought quickly. He was supposed to have been born and raised in the area. Or was he? He couldn’t remember what he’d told her. He was just turning into an out-and-out liar who couldn’t keep his facts straight.
“No, not really,” he said. “I’ve seen a few of them, but I haven’t met any of them. I’m sure the rest are tourists just passing through. Maybe some are staying at your hotel?”
Hilly shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t spent much time there.” She smiled. “So, what do you do when you’re not working, Clint?”
“Do?”
“You know? Hobbies, entertainment. Do you like movies?”
“I’ve never seen ‘moo-vees’ but I’ve heard about them.”
“You’ve…you’ve never seen a movie?” Hilly quirked an eyebrow.
“My parents didn’t approve of them. We boys were expected to work the ranch.” A bead of sweat broke out on his upper lip. How much more could he lie?
“Oh! You have a brother?”
Clint nodded. “Well, I did. He’s passed now.”
“I’m sorry, Clint.”
Clint nodded. “It was a long time ago.”
“Do you see yourself doing the show for a long time? Or do you have other plans?”
“I hope not!” Clint said. “No, I don’t plan to do that forever, but it pays the rent right now.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Strike it rich on a claim,” Clint said. That was the first honest thing he thought he had said, and it felt good. He didn’t add that he wanted to get married and have a family.
Hilly laughed, startling him. What had he said that was so funny?
“Strike it rich!” she repeated. “Don’t we all? Aren’t all the shafts around here mined out or whatever the term is?”
Clint smiled. He did sound foolish, didn’t he?
“Not necessarily. They were flooded in the past and couldn’t be worked, but there is probably plenty of ore left in them. Unfortunately, I have read that large mining corporations own most of the land now or lease it from the Bureau of Land Management.”
“So, no mining for you? Or would you work for a mining company?”
Clint could see that Hilly’s curiosity had no limits.
“No, I don’t think I would work for a mining company. Well, maybe,” he revised as he imagined a future life with Hilly. His cheeks heated, and he stowed the vision away.
“You know, I actually almost came down here six months ago,” Hilly said. “I was driving from a c
onference in El Paso to Phoenix to visit my brother, and I took a side trip to Tombstone. I never made it though. The worst rainstorm ever blew in and I turned around north of the town and headed back up the road. But I saw a hole in a hill, like a cave or a sink hole, and I got out of the car to go see it.”
Clint stared at her. It wasn’t possible!
“I didn’t go into the cave,” she added hurriedly, “but now that we’re talking about mining, I’m wondering if it wasn’t a mine shaft. Luckily, I wasn’t dumb enough to crawl into it...but I have to admit that I thought about it.”
It was Hilly’s voice he had heard, calling to him. How was it possible? Sweat broke out on his forehead. It was Hilly who had brought him forward in time.
“Clint? Are you okay? I probably shouldn’t have gone up there, should I? Do you think it was on private property? I didn’t see any signs.”
Clint focused his eyes on Hilly’s troubled face. He let out a deep sigh, inhaled deeply and leaned back in his chair. Hilly—who had called out to him and then disappeared for six months.
“I know which hole you’re talking about. North of town, right?” he asked. “It belongs to the government now. It is a cave, and was used as a mineshaft, but I think it was just abandoned. I don’t think anyone ever found anything in it.”
“Oh! Silly to think of it as my little cave,” Hilly said. “I probably shouldn’t have gone up there. But still, isn’t land owned by the Bureau of Land Management available for public access?”
Clint shook his head. “No, not all, especially if the government has leased out mineral rights on the land. I’ve done some reading on the subject.”
“I didn’t know that,” Hilly said. “I’m surprised you knew which ‘hole’ I was talking about. There have to be a bunch of old abandoned mine shafts around here, right?”
Clint smiled. “It has been an interest of mine.”
“Is that where your family’s ranch was?”
Clint shook his head in confusion. “Ranch?”
“Yes, you said your parents owned a ranch near here.”
“Oh! Yes, that was our property,” Clint said. He hoped she had no way or desire to discover that the only thing he had owned was the mining claim on that hill.
He remembered the day well. He’d been working inside the shaft, following a vein of silver, his hands shaking with excitement. He thought he had been about to become rich. The mine was going to pay off! A voice had called out to him from above—a woman’s voice. He might have ignored a man, but not a woman. She might have been in distress. A woman shouldn’t have been wandering near the mines alone. Did she need help?
He had dropped his pickaxe and hurriedly climbed up the ladder, reaching almost the top when he’d fainted. At least, he thought he’d fainted. When he awakened, he found himself sprawled at the bottom of the cave—now filled with dust and debris blown in from wind. He had crawled up the ladder again, now dry and brittle. And found himself in a world he never imagined. But the voice was gone.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hilly said. “So, no mining for you,” she repeated with a sympathetic smile.
“No mining for me,” Clint said. At least not in the twenty-first century.
“I’d love to go back and see the mine shaft, even if it is on private or government land. Do you want to come with me tomorrow?”
Clint shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Hilly. The opening is unstable. It could collapse.”
“I’ll be careful,” Hilly said. “I’ve got an idea for a book using the cave. I really need to look at it again.”
Clint sighed. “I have three shows tomorrow—at 11, 1 and 3 p.m. We could probably go about 9 o’clock in the morning. Four o’clock is too late as the sun has begun to set earlier at this time of year, and the desert can be treacherous at night.”
Hilly beamed, and he couldn’t help but match her smile. He wasn’t sure he would ever be able to tell her no—now or in the future.
Her voice had called out to him, bringing him forward in time, and he knew now that she was his destiny, his future. It would have been more convenient if she had stayed when she called out and not disappeared for six months, but she was here now, and he was bound to her.
****
Clint rose with the sunrise the next morning, and dressed in his performance duds. In fact, these were the clothes he was wearing when he’d been working in the mine that day.
He had an awful feeling that taking Hilly back to the cave was a terrible idea, but she had been insistent. He wasn’t sure what he was worried about, but something warned him not to take her. He supposed he could have refused, but he didn’t...couldn’t.
He’d agreed to meet Hilly for breakfast before setting out to see the old cave. He’d whiled away the hours until they met by trying to remember the different stories he had told her. He’d almost made a mistake on the ranch story. It would have been easier to tell her the whole truth—about the time travel, about hearing her voice. But he was pretty sure she wasn’t ready for that.
They breakfasted and headed out in the car north of Tombstone. Hilly drove the car slower than Larry, but she seemed to do all right. At least he thought so, but he was no expert on cars. He wondered how she’d handle a wagon and mules.
“I’ve never seen the opening to the cave from this angle, so tell me when to pull over if I miss it,” Hilly said.
Clint couldn’t possibly miss it. Hadn’t he worked in that thing every day for a year, Saturdays and Sundays included? No drinking and gambling for him in town on Sundays. He had worked until his back and knees ached...and then some.
“There,” he said. “It’s there.” He pointed to the hill.
“Oh, yes, there it is!” Hilly said enthusiastically. She drove off the side of the road, parked and jumped out with an enthusiasm he didn’t share. “Come on! If your first show is at 11, we don’t have a lot of time.”
She headed off into the brush, turning around with a bright smile. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re with me. You can tell me what I’m looking at. And the sky is bright blue this time. No rain!”
Clint followed her. His foot trail had long since grown over. He hadn’t been able to tell if this particular mine had been leased out by the government for mineral rights, but he doubted it. From what he’d seen when he’d awakened, nothing had been done to it. He’d come back since several times, trying to hear her voice again and trying to wish himself back to 1881, but neither had worked.
Hilly climbed up the hill, and he followed, making sure she didn’t slip back down, but she was pretty sure-footed. He tried hard not to stare at her backside as she clambered up the slope, but he couldn’t resist a peek or two. A shapely form. She wore snug-fitting blue jeans and a long-sleeved pink blouse that she left untucked.
“Thank goodness I jog,” she said over her shoulder. “I’m not sure I could get up this hill otherwise.”
“Jog?” Clint repeated. “You mean like run?”
Hilly laughed. “Yes, well, not quite that fast.” She reached the top, and Clint called out.
“Stay back from the edge!”
She sank to her knees and looked down into the cave.
“So, what is that? Can you tell?” She pointed.
Clint settled on his knees beside her. He wanted to grab her and keep her safe, but he didn’t dare. She might not take too kindly to being touched without permission. He leaned over and looked in to see what she pointed at.
“It’s a ladder, an old ladder. I’m surprised it’s still standing.”
“Is that water down there?” she asked in a mournful tone. “Do you think it’s flooded like the others? I would have loved to climb down in there.”
“Not a chance, missy,” Clint said. “Yes, that’s water. Probably rain water though, but it could have risen from the bottom. I doubt if the original claim owner dug far enough to hit the water table.”
Hilly leaned over further. “What’s that? Is that a pick or something?”
&
nbsp; The loose dirt at the edge of the opening gave way, and Clint’s heart stopped as he saw Hilly tilting forward.
“Hilly!” he shouted. He reached for her.
“Help!” she screamed as she began to fall. Clint grabbed hold of her arm, but the ground under him gave way as well, and he felt himself sliding. He scrambled to keep hold of Hilly with one hand and clutch at the edge of the opening, but he couldn’t hold on.
Chapter Six
Hilly opened her eyes and looked up. Sunlight shone down from the opening of the cave, dispelling some of the darkness. Clint lay facedown beside her, one arm sprawled over her stomach. His hat lay nearby.
She bolted upright, ignoring a twinge in her back, and looked at him, barely noting that no water saturated the bottom of the shaft. In fact, the cave floor was quite dry.
She pressed a hand to Clint’s cheek. He was warm, thank goodness. But he might be injured. Her own back ached from the fall, and she supposed she must have twisted it.
She caught sight of another opening that led off into darkness like a tunnel, and Hilly reminded herself that this was a cave. She grimaced, hoping nothing alive was going to creep out of it.
“Clint,” she whispered. She shook him gently. “Are you all right?”
Clint opened his eyes and stared at her for a moment.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “We fell.”
He rolled over and hurriedly pushed himself upright, leaning in as if to examine her closely in the dim light.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“No, not too bad, which is weird since we fell from way up there.” She looked up and noted the old-fashioned simple wooden ladder that ran up the length of the shaft to the surface. It looked like it was in good shape.
“The ladder.” She pointed. “It would have been easier to get down that way.”
Clint turned his head and stared at the ladder.
“Oh, no,” he muttered. “Oh, please, no.”
“What’s wrong? Clint! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Clint shook his head, staring at the ladder.