“Just until we get everything straightened out. It’s for your own protection.”
“My protection? Why?”
He hesitated, his eyebrows pulling together in frustration. “Because if I don’t bring you in, I might have a riot on my hands. There was another article in the paper this morning, and it said there was a witness who saw you do it. The folks of Dodge won’t stand for any more of this. I just can’t guarantee your safety.”
She massaged her temples with two fingertips. “But I didn’t do it. You can’t lock me up because of a sensational story in a newspaper, just to keep people happy. It’s not right. And who is the witness?”
“We don’t know yet. That information wasn’t printed in the paper, but we’re working on it. That’s why I need to take you in. Until I find out who killed Virgil, you’re the only suspect, and I can’t even prove you’re who you say you are.”
Jessica was tempted to spill everything out there and then, but she resisted the urge because he’d never believe it—not under these circumstances. He’d think she was crazy, and it would only make her appear guiltier.
“I was going to explain everything to you today,” she said, “but I doubt you’d even believe it now.”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe,” he replied. “It only matters that you come with me now, because if you don’t, you might have to face a lynch mob—and that’s the last thing I want. You should know that better than anyone.”
He didn’t say the words, but when she looked into his tormented eyes, she understood his meaning. He had already lost a wife. He didn’t want to lose her, too.
Rising to her feet, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “Then I’ll go peacefully.”
He held her for a long moment, and she was astonished by the euphoria she felt, knowing that he cared for her so deeply.
It wasn’t until much later—when he locked her up in the jail cell to be guarded by Dempsey—that she experienced an almost crushing urge to escape from this place and return to her own time.
Chapter 22
The jail cell was humid and hot. It smelled of heavy sweat and alcohol left over from the burping, hungover cowboy that Dempsey had recently let go. Sitting on the cot and feeling itchy beneath her ridiculous corset—a truly perverse instrument of torture—Jessica wondered what was going to happen next.
A number of times she asked to see Angus, but was told no one could find him, and as the day progressed, she grew increasingly worried.
It was dark when Truman finally returned to the law office. “You can go now,” he said to Dempsey. “But keep an eye on things in the streets. Make sure your gun is loaded.”
They both glanced at Jessica. Truman’s eyes were frigid, icy blue.
The young deputy stood and headed for the door. “You can rest easy, Sheriff. I won’t put up with any shenanigans. See you in the morning.”
Truman walked to his desk, never meeting Jessica’s gaze. His cool indifference made her wonder if he had somehow grown to detest her in this one, short, traumatic day.
He paused in front of his desk with his hands on his hips, as if thinking. For a tense moment, he stared down at all the papers and writing utensils on the desktop. Then he leaned forward in a sudden fit of rage and swept everything onto the floor. The jar of pens and the inkwell went flying. They crashed into the wall and flew everywhere.
Heart suddenly racing, Jessica rushed forward to the cell door.
His dangerous eyes focused in on her. Then he approached her and gripped the bars. “God, Jessica,” he whispered, closing his eyes.
The agony in his voice caught her by surprise, and a wave of apprehension coursed through her. “Tell me what happened.”
When he looked up, the dark rage was gone, but deep lines of regret were creasing his forehead. “Folks in town want to hang you.”
Jessica backed away. “You’re not serious.”
“I won’t let them do it.”
“How can you stop it? If a judge says—”
“It won’t come to that. I’ll take you away before it does.”
“You’d help me escape?” she asked, not sure she’d heard him correctly. “And you’d come with me?”
He didn’t nod or say yes, but his eyes answered the question.
“But I’m innocent,” she insisted. “Angus will help me prove it in court. Have you found him yet?”
He reached a hand through the bars and touched her cheek. “No. He’s been missing all afternoon. But it doesn’t matter. I’m going to get you out of this. No matter what it takes.”
The words came to her in a light whisper, and she closed her eyes, almost drowning in relief. He did trust her. Even without knowing her secret, he knew she would never kill a man.
He drew her into his arms and pressed his mouth to hers. Jessica leaned into the cell door, savoring the velvet warmth of his kiss, barely able to believe she could feel so happy when her whole world was falling to pieces around her.
Truman pulled away and went to lock the front door, then returned with the jingling keys. He let her out of the jail cell, swept her into his arms, and carried her to the stairs. Taking two steps at a time to the top, he kicked his bedroom door open with his boot and set her down on the floor.
Jessica, her mind swimming, backed all the way inside and hit the bed. “Thank God, Truman. I couldn’t bear to be away from you another minute.”
He unbuckled his gun belt and tossed it to the floor, then took off his shirt to reveal the most magnificent naked chest she’d ever seen in her life, and strode toward her. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply.
Jessica ran her palms over his deliciously smooth, contoured chest and down to the rippled muscles of his stomach. He flinched, but a faint murmur of encouragement prompted her to continue. He kissed her again, his hands roaming urgently over her dress.
All she knew in that moment was a need to feel his skin next to hers, a need to feel his lips and hot breath caressing her.
He unfastened her bodice and slid it off her shoulders. His lips were demanding, and his tongue probed her mouth in a slow, intoxicating rhythm.
Truman unbuttoned the top of her skirt and petticoats and let them fall gracefully to the floor at their feet. His fingers touched her corset, and he stepped back, leaving Jessica wobbling with impatient desire. Focusing closely on the task, he unhooked each hook. Soon, the tightness gave way, and she could breathe again. At last. The corset dropped to the floor, landing quietly on top of the skirts.
His arms came around to massage her back in a tight embrace, his breath moist against her neck and shoulder.
Flames of impatience licked within her. Truman guided her gently onto the bed. She sank into the soft, feather mattress, then inched back toward the pillows. Truman came upon her, moving. His hand wandered down her side, over her hips and to her leg, still covered by the cotton drawers.
“Take these off,” he whispered.
She eagerly untied the ribbon at her waist, delighting in the cool air dancing across her skin, as Truman slid the drawers down her legs, then slowly rolled each stocking from her uplifted knees, dropping open-mouthed kisses down her thighs and calves. A deep, sensual ache enthralled her—a need to feel him inside her, to feel the sudden, shocking pleasure of his entry. “Please,” she murmured.
Truman rolled away from her, kicked off his boots, and removed his trousers. Soon, as if in a dream, he was upon her.
“I can’t wait anymore,” he said.
She groaned as he filled her. All sense of time and place left her, and she could barely remember anything of her life before this exquisite moment. All she knew was the glorious feel of Truman driving into her again and again. Her former existence was consumed by the pleasure that rolled over her.
Together they reached an explosive climax and released every
thing to each other. He shuddered in her arms. She arched her back and drew in a deep breath.
In that wild, raging moment, Jessica knew that she would never—in all this peculiar, entangled eternity—be able to leave him. Nothing could take her away from him now. She belonged to him. This was meant to be.
She understood it now.
It’s why she was sent here.
Later, still wrapped in each other’s arms, Jessica and Truman resisted sleep. Outside, distant saloon pianos played over the faint laughter and rowdy hollering from the street. Closer to their window, crickets chirped in the darkness, smothering the cruel realities that faced them.
“What’s going to happen next?” Jessica asked, as she rested her cheek on his shoulder.
“Everything will be fine,” he whispered.
“You always say that.”
“I’ve been right so far, haven’t I?”
A quiet moment passed as Truman’s thumb brushed over her shoulder, back and forth...until she felt almost hypnotized by it.
Yet still, that relentless ache in her chest persisted—the ache that came from wanting two different things at the same time. Now that she had surrendered to the love she felt for Truman, she would have to accept, once and for all, that she would never see her family again, or her dog, George. Her life in the twenty-first century was lost to her now, and she couldn’t help but grieve for it.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t imagine leaving this new life behind—most important…this love she’d found. Or rather, the love that had found her.
She never dreamed she could feel so close to anyone, that she could love a flesh and blood man with more than just her heart and body. They were connected somehow in a soulful, profound way, and the connection was beyond physical. It was not something she could touch or feel, yet it was very real. More real than anything she’d ever known back home. The depth of her love for Truman Wade ran too deep to even understand.
If only she could live two parallel lives.
If only she had all the answers and knew what was happening right now, at this very moment, in the future. What had become of her life there?
Did her parents believe she was dead?
“Truman?”
“Mmm?”
She rolled on top of him, laced her fingers together on his chest, and rested her chin on top of them.
He threw an arm up under his head like a pillow. “You look like you want to tell me something, and I really hope that’s the case, because I’ve been waiting a long time.”
“I do. I’ve wanted to tell you this since the first night we met, but I was too afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
She rubbed a finger over the smooth, warm surface of his chest. “That you wouldn’t believe me. Or that you’d think I was crazy.”
“I’d never think that.”
She tried to smile, to make light of this, but it was impossible. “You might change your mind about that after you’ve heard what I’m about to say.”
He frowned with some concern.
Lord. This was harder than she thought it would be.
“It’s about where I come from,” she said at last.
“Whatever it is, it can’t possibly be any worse than the things I’ve told you.”
“It’s not like that,” she said. “It’s not something I’ve done. It’s something I had no control over, and….well....brace yourself.”
“I’m braced.”
She leaned forward to kiss him. His lips were soft and moist. As she withdrew, he put his arm around her and coaxed her to lie beside him. His warm hand swept the locks of her hair across her shoulder.
Preparing herself for his shocked response, Jessica drew in a deep breath, and finally confessed the truth.
“I’m from the future.”
Chapter 23
From where Jessica lay with her cheek on Truman’s chest, he did not seem shocked. But of course, he was a cool-headed gunslinger.
Alert to any reaction, she waited nervously, but observed only that he continued to breathe at the same pace he’d been breathing before she’d dropped the bomb. His heart, which beat inside him directly below her ear, did not quicken. He simply lay there, twirling his index finger around a lock of her hair, staring at the ceiling.
“I traveled through time to get here,” she continued, when she felt ready to reveal more.
Still, he failed to react as she imagined he would.
Bewildered, she began to ramble. “I was born in 1981. In Missouri. I don’t know what happened to get me here, but here I am.”
His hand stopped moving through her hair. At last he said, “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“I don’t understand it either.” Jessica rolled off him and sat up. “When I came here—it was the night Lou was killed—I was driving to my mother’s house.” She glanced down at him. “I was driving in an automobile. You don’t have them here. They’re like wagons without horses, but they go much faster and run on gasoline. I was traveling at a speed of sixty miles an hour. It’s very fast. You’d really like it.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“The road was wet, and I hydroplaned and flipped my car. I’m not sure how it happened, but lightning struck, then suddenly I was here. I have no explanation for it. I certainly didn’t know anything like this was possible. Not even in the future.”
Truman held her hand. “Jessica, I really want to believe what you’re telling me—”
“I know it seems impossible. I couldn’t believe it myself at first, but you have to trust me. I’m not making this up.”
“I do trust you, but—”
“No buts.” She squeezed his hand. “Think back to that first night.”
Truman said nothing for a moment or two. Then he sat up beside her. “I remember you were confused and disoriented. You talked about walking from a car wreck. I thought you meant a train.”
“No. It was red hatchback.”
His eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “And the things you wear under your trousers...”
“Panties.”
“And that...zipper thing.”
“All from the future. But there’s so much more.”
He looked at the window, opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t.
Jessica said a silent prayer that he would believe her. If he didn’t....
She simply couldn’t bear to think about that. She needed him in her life here. He was her rock in this century. Her only anchor.
His expression stilled and grew serious. “It’s the craziest story I’ve ever heard.”
“I know.”
He scratched his head. “Time travel....”
“Yes.”
“It sounds insane.”
“I know, but it’s true. How can I prove it to you?” She paused, staring. “Look. See how perfect my teeth are...how straight they are?”
“They’re very nice.”
“Thousands of dollars to straighten them. Imagine that, will you? Braces.”
“Never heard of them.”
“That’s because they’re not invented yet. We also have cell phones—little communication devices that people carry around everywhere. Some people carry their BlackBerries in a holster like yours, but it’s a phone, not a gun. We can take our phones anywhere, and punch in a number and call someone, or text a message to them, like a letter that gets delivered that second. And medicine… I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Surgery has come a long way, let me tell you. People are going under the knife to get their noses changed or their double chins removed. They call it a facelift. And there’s air travel, too. You wouldn’t believe it.”
He stared at her, and the amusement in his eyes faded away.
Jessica said nothing more. She waited uneasily, watching as everyth
ing settled into his mind.
Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned the face lifts.
“It almost makes sense,” he said.
She regarded him with hopeful surprise. “It does?”
“Yes. I knew you were odd, and I haven’t been able to find you in any town records. I put the word out everywhere. No one has ever heard of you.”
“That’s because I never existed before the night Lou was killed.” Jessica sat nervously, watching his expression change as he stared at her.
He sat up abruptly and pulled her into his arms. After a moment, he drew back and looked her in the eye. “Will you be going back there?”
“You believe me?”
He blinked slowly, his gaze uncertain. “I don’t know.” He paused. “That day, out on the prairie....”
“I was trying to find a way home,” she explained. “I thought if I spun around very quickly…but it didn’t work.”
He sat in silence. Jessica knew he was remembering everything he’d ever seen her do or say, and he was putting the pieces together.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” he said, leaning back with both arms propped behind him.
Jessica combed her fingers through her hair. “Even if I wanted to go home, I don’t know how to get there. I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I don’t even understand how this happened in the first place. If I knew, I might be able to duplicate it.”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
She looked into the blue depths of his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you either.”
They shifted onto the blankets, Jessica on her back and Truman leaning down.
“I haven’t always said the right thing,” he told her. “I didn’t trust you when I should have. I kept things from you about Dorothy and what really happened, but I trust you now. You’re in my blood.”
Jessica kissed his soft lips, and soon the urgency of the kiss mounted.
“Stay,” he whispered into her hair. “Don’t go back.”
Jessica squeezed him. “I wanted to go back before, but now I’d rather die than leave you.”
A Time For Love: (A Time Travel Romance) (Dodge City Brides Book 3) Page 18