A Time For Love: (A Time Travel Romance) (Dodge City Brides Book 3)

by Julianne MacLean

  SHERIFF WADE KILLED!

  The bold headline struck her agonizingly hard for the second time. The words were just the same as she remembered. Nothing had changed.

  Jessica read the article, then rewound the microfilm and turned off the machine. She couldn’t do any more research today. She needed to go home and think about all this.

  She stood up, took the film rolls to the attendant, retrieved her purse and coat from the lockers outside the research room, and left the building. Outside, dark storm clouds swirled above and blew a strong, cold wind around her. She walked slowly toward her car, pushing away a lock of hair that had blown across her face.

  Climbing into her rental car, she turned the key in the ignition. As soon as she was on the road again, she toyed with the cubic zirconia on her necklace, her mind a hundred years away.

  Forever certainly didn’t last very long.

  When she returned to her apartment, George was waiting at the door, wagging his tail. “Hey, cutie.” She shut the door behind her. George stood on his hind legs, reaching up to Jessica as if he wanted a hug. Jessica squatted down to have her chin licked, then rubbed behind his ears. “Calm down,” she laughed.

  Rising to her feet, she tossed her keys and purse onto the front hall table. The inside of her apartment seemed dark and dismal with the curtains closed, so she walked into the living room and flung open the drapes to looked out over the city. The wind was picking up, blowing the clouds across the sky at a clipped pace.

  There was a time when she loved her view from the eighth floor, but these days, Jessica would have preferred a quiet neighborhood with a yard and a view of the prairie. She was quite sure George would prefer that, too.

  She went to the kitchen and flicked on the overhead light. She plugged in the kettle and dropped a tea bag into her favorite cup. While she stood waiting for the water to boil, the telephone rang.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “Hi. It’s me.”

  “Oh, hi, Mom.” Jessica sat down on the sofa.

  “I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing.” There was a pause. “Would you like to come for dinner this weekend and stay a few days? I could put a roast in the oven and—”

  “Thanks, Mom, but I think I’ll stay home. I’m not really in the mood to drive anywhere.”

  “We could come and visit you.”

  Jessica gave no reply. She couldn’t seem to get her mind off Truman. Sometimes it felt like a dream. Other times, it felt more real than anything she’d ever known.

  Silence loomed at the other end of the line. “Are you sure everything’s all right?” her mother asked. “You haven’t been the same since you woke up in the hospital. You seem sad. I wish you could talk to me about what happened.”

  Tears pooled in Jessica’s eyes, but she forced them away. “I’ll be fine, Mom. Really. Just give me some time. I start therapy on Monday, so I’m sure that will help. I’ll talk to you soon, I promise.”

  “Okay, honey. But remember, I’m here if you need anything.”

  “I know.”

  They said their good-byes and hung up. The kettle was steaming, so Jessica hurried to the counter to unplug it. When she tipped it to pour, the telephone rang again. She walked around the counter and picked up the receiver.

  “Hello?” There was silence at the other end. “Hello?

  A man’s voice spoke up. “Jessica Delaney?”

  “Yes.”

  There was a click, as if she’d just been taken off speakerphone. “Hi,” he said. “I’m sorry. This may seem strange. We don’t actually know each other, but we have something in common, and I’m wondering if we could meet to talk. I understand you just got out of the hospital.”

  Her heart began to race. “Who’s speaking, please?”

  “My name is Jake Spencer.”

  Jessica sat down on the sofa. George hopped up beside her. Stroking the soft hair under his chin, she tried to speak in a calm and steady voice.

  “How do you know I was in the hospital?”

  “I work there.”

  She paused. “Have we met before? Your name sounds familiar.”

  “Yes,” he said, slowly. There was another long, drawn-out silence. “I’m the surgeon who operated on your brother last year.”

  Nervously, Jessica bit her lip. She wasn’t sure what, exactly, was going on here, and why she felt like she was going to drop the phone. All she knew was that she wanted desperately to learn more about Dr. Spencer, and meet with him as soon as possible.

  “What is it that you want to talk about?” she carefully asked.

  His voice was husky and low. “Do you remember what happened to you after your car accident?”

  Jessica sat forward, resting both elbows on her knees, while she grew more uneasy and restless by the minute. “How do you know about that?”

  “It’s common knowledge around here. Your parents conducted quite a search.”

  She glanced at George beside her on the sofa. The dog was trembling for some reason. “What do you want?” Jessica asked.

  “I need to talk to you. Do you remember where you were while you were missing? Jessica? Are you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  “I need to know. Do you remember anything about what happened?”

  She hesitated, afraid to trust anyone with this information. Fighting the urge to hang up, she decided to take a chance and answer. “Yes.”

  He said nothing for a long, tense moment.

  “But I don’t think I can discuss it with anyone,” she added, losing her courage all of a sudden.

  “Yes, you can,” he replied. “I’d really like to talk to you about it. I’ve done some research on....” He stopped.

  Jessica’s heart thumped madly in her chest. “Go on.”

  “I’ve done some research on time travel, and I’d like to ask you some questions.”

  A wave of panic rolled over her. Did he know about the spot on the highway? Did he know how to use it? Could he help her go back and save Truman’s life?

  She’d tell him not to give up his gun when Henry demanded it. Or better yet, she’d never ride out to Henry’s house in the first place.

  Or if they did, they’d take a posse.

  “When would you like to meet?” she asked.

  “How about Wednesday morning? I can come to Topeka, if that’s more convenient for you.”

  “No, I’ll come to Dodge. I need to visit my parents anyway. Where should we meet?”

  “How about the Boot Hill Museum? In the parking lot adjacent to the Visitor Center.”

  Jessica’s palms were clammy. She was breathing very fast.

  Did he know? Did he know about Truman?

  “That would be fine.”

  “Ten o’clock?”

  “I’ll see you then.” She hung up.

  George rested his front paws on Jessica’s lap and stared up at her, whimpering. “Don’t worry. I’m not going away again.”

  She patted him until he stopped shaking.

  A few minutes later, she stood and returned to the kitchen for her tea. Plugging the kettle in again, she leaned against the counter to wait.

  Did Dr. Spencer know how it worked? Maybe the same thing happened to him. After all, she wasn’t the only one. It happened to Angus as well. Who knew how many others?

  The kettle began to steam. Jessica poured the hot water into her cup and plunged the teabag on its string.

  While it steeped, she stared blankly at the wall, thinking about Truman and the child she was carrying, and how desperately she wished she could tell him about it.

  The fact that she traveled through time to find him somehow made his death more difficult to bear. There were too many bizarre factors to accept it like a normal passing. Before her car accident, he had been d
ead for a hundred years, but she was still able to touch him, talk to him, fall in love with him. Death had no meaning, and for that reason, she just couldn’t seem to let go. Hope still lived and breathed formidably within her.

  If she could do it once—meet him after he’d already died a century earlier—why couldn’t she do it again? Perhaps there was a way—a way to go back and change what happened that day.

  Good God, if there was, no matter what it took, or how long, she was going to discover it.

  Chapter 27

  Jessica pulled into the museum parking lot at 9:45 Wednesday morning, and found it nearly empty. Disappointed, and a great deal more nervous than she expected to be, she adjusted her sunglasses, walked to the Visitor Center, and waited.

  She checked her watch. Ten minutes to ten.

  “He’d better show up,” she said, feeling slightly irritable, for she had tossed and turned all night, thinking about this moment, and she hated feeling so powerless and unsure of herself.

  A few seconds later, a silver mini-van pulled into the lot. Jessica’s nerves quivered with anticipation, but a woman got out.

  Next, a blue Accord pulled in, but an older man climbed out.

  Jessica checked her watch again. It was five minutes to ten. She paced back and forth in front of the entrance, her stomach burning with nervous butterflies.

  She checked her watch one more time. It was ten o’clock. “Where is he?” she whispered, looking around.

  Just then, a shiny black Mustang convertible with the top up drove in. She stopped pacing and squinted, but the sun reflected off the car’s windshield, blinding her momentarily, so she couldn’t see the driver. The Mustang pulled into a spot near her car.

  No one got out.

  She waited.

  And waited.

  Finally, the door opened. A dark-haired man wearing sunglasses, a white T-shirt and faded blue jeans, stepped out onto the lot. Before she could get a good look at him, he leaned into the car again to search for something.

  She could still see his legs—clearly muscular and well-proportioned. She suspected he spent a fair amount of time keeping in shape. Or maybe he just looked like that naturally.

  After a few seconds, he straightened and shut the car door. When he turned and walked toward her, he twirled and jingled his keys around on a finger, then dropped them into his pocket.

  Jessica felt her insides zoom like a roller coaster. That walk. That twirl of the keys. It was just like....

  No, you’re imagining it.

  She lifted a hand to shade her eyes, and watched him approach. Her heart was pounding like a big drum, faster and faster until she was sure it was pummeling her ribs.

  The man walked straight toward her. Obviously there was no doubt in his mind who she was. Then he removed his sunglasses, and Jessica sucked in a quick breath. He looked so much like Truman, it was uncanny.

  But he isn’t Truman. He can’t be. Don’t even think it.

  He smiled at her with that apologetic look Truman had given her so many times, but when he came closer, she saw subtle differences. This man’s eyes were green, not blue, and the laugh lines around them were different—more pronounced. He was not quite as tall as Truman, and his hair was dark brown, not black.

  He stopped when he reached her, and stared.

  His gaze traveled down the length of her body to her black skirt and the same pair of red pumps she had been wearing when she first met Truman.

  She stared right back at him. “Dr. Spencer?”

  His eyes lifted. “Yes. It’s nice to see you again, under better circumstances this time.”

  “Indeed.”

  They shook hands.

  “Welcome home,” he said.

  His words penetrated her memory, curling around her emotions until she began to feel overwhelmed by them.

  What did he mean…welcome home?

  “Why did you call me?” she asked tentatively.

  “I....” A woman passed by them, and he waited for her to enter the Visitor Center before he continued. “Let’s take a walk.”

  “Sure.”

  He pressed his hand into the small of her back to guide her along. The simple gesture was so familiar, she felt hopes come at her from all directions. Perhaps it was cowardice, but she beat back those hopes as fast as she could focus her will-power.

  “I know this may seem strange to you,” he said as they walked across the parking lot, “but I’ve known you for a long time. Even before that day in the hospital with Gregory.”

  Goosebumps shimmied down her body. “I don’t remember meeting you before.”

  “No, we hadn’t actually met...well, not really.”

  Jessica squared her shoulders, gathering what strength she had left. “What are you saying, Dr. Spencer?”

  “Please, call me Jake.” He paused for a moment, staring intensely into her eyes. “I know what happened to you. I know you traveled back in time, and I know that you...that you miss someone.”

  None of this made sense. Her head began to throb as she fought to control the feelings she knew were illogical.

  “And I know about Truman,” he added.

  All her attempts to stay calm, all her resolve to grieve silently for the man she loved, evaporated before her like water on a hot stove.

  Jake brushed a tear off her cheek. “Please, don’t cry,” he said.

  But she couldn’t keep her voice from breaking. “How? How could you know about him?”

  “Because...I am him.”

  Shock exploded within her. Before she knew what she was doing, she had turned and was walking away from him.

  “No, it’s not possible.” She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t risk another loss like that if he were lying.

  His footsteps followed, tapping rapidly over the pavement. A familiar rhythm. Soon, his hand closed around her elbow and he turned her around to face him. “Jessica, it’s me. You know it is.”

  “No, you can’t be. “ Tears ran down her cheeks and her heart felt raw. She couldn’t take any more pain.

  “Yes. It’s me.”

  “But you’re not the same,” she said. “You look different.”

  He nodded. “I know, but you have to believe me. I was there. I was Truman, and I told you I’d love you forever. It was the last thing I said to you. Please remember.”

  Jessica stepped back, away from him. It was impossible for anyone but Truman to know that.

  “How is this possible?” was all she could say.

  They started walking again and paused in front of his car. “Truman died in 1881,” he replied, “but somehow he…I…followed you here.”

  Jessica reached up and touched his face. “How?”

  “I know I look different. I am different. Truman was born again in me, and he lived an extra thirty years since the day you last saw him.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I didn’t either, not until I was older. I always knew I was different—as a kid, I had an obsession with the Old West—but I thought the memories were just dreams or fantasies. Then it all started to seem very real to me. I began to research Truman Wade, and sure enough, I found him. I found photographs of him and newspaper articles describing things I’d already known about. And I found things about you.”

  Jessica felt unsteady on her feet. She was still having trouble believing all this. Or maybe she was afraid to believe it.

  “Do you remember all of Truman’s life?” she asked uncertainly.

  He shook his head. “Not all of it. Only certain things later on. I remember Dorothy, and I recall things about bounty hunting, but most of all, I remember you.”

  Her heart warmed at the words. “You’re a doctor now.”

  “Yes. I did things differently this time, and now my life makes more sense to me. You have to
believe me, Jessica. I’ve been waiting such a long time for you to come back.”

  Suddenly she was filled with a hopefulness she never imagined she would feel again. “But if you’ve known about me for so long, why didn’t you find me sooner? I’ve been right here in Kansas for years. I almost married someone else.”

  “I was afraid of altering fate,” he replied.

  She shook her head with disbelief. “How long have you known who I was?”

  “About five years. I came to Dodge City when I finished my residency. To wait for you. But I didn’t remember anything about you having a brother. I was shocked to see you that day, and I tried so hard to save him. If I could have foreseen what would happen to him, maybe I could have done something to prevent it, but you were all I saw.”

  Jessica touched his cheek and felt a lump form in her throat. “No more regrets,” she said. “We can’t change the past. I don’t think we’re meant to. All we can do is build the future.”

  Jake nodded and kissed the palm of her hand.

  “When I first met Truman,” she said, “I knew he looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. Now, I remember. He reminded me of you. I remember that day in the hospital. The day Gregory died. You knew my name.”

  “Of course I did.”

  “But,” she said, pulling away so she could look at him, “what have you been doing all this time?”

  “We have a lot to catch up on,” he told her with a smile. “Now I save lives, instead of take them.”

  “Truman said that to me once,” she replied. “I dreamed he was a doctor, but he laughed at the idea. I told him he could be anything he wanted to be.”

  Jake smiled. “I remember that, too. It was the last day we were together. We were riding on my horse. Maybe you planted the idea in me.”

  A horn honked somewhere. Such a modern sound.

  “It is you, isn’t it?” she finally said, in a quiet, shaky voice.

  “Yes.”

  Without hesitation she wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing and crying at the same time. Could she believe him? Could she really trust him? Dear Lord...she had to. Nothing would ever mean anything to her again if she couldn’t have this. Again.