by Sable Hunter
“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” J.D. smiled at Mavis indulgently. “Now, what’s the story?”
King tapped Reno on the shoulder. “While you talk to these two, I’ll go see if I can corner Governor Pease.”
Reno started to protest, but Mavis waved him on. “You go right ahead, Kingston.” She placed her hand on Reno’s arm. “We’ll take good care of your friend. When you’re finished, you can find us in the newspaper office just down the street.”
As King left to intercept the governor, Reno reluctantly let himself be led away.
For the next half hour, he told as much of the truth as he could get away with.
“So, you risked life and limb to save those Stanton children?” J.D. was busy taking notes.
“I led the raiders away so they could escape. They thought I was carrying gold, which I wasn’t.”
“Did the Indians wound you?” The newspaper owner didn’t even look up, he just kept writing.
“No.” Reno spoke slowly. “And let me reiterate, they weren’t Indians. They were white men disguised as Indians. I can even give you their names. Kinsella, Roberts, and Taylor. I believe these three, plus others, are the ones who’ve been burning homes and killing innocent people.”
“So, where have you been for the last month?” This question was from Mavis.
Reno tried to think fast to come up with something halfway believable. “As best I can tell, I must have fallen and hit my head during the chase. I don’t really remember much about that whole month. When I came to myself, all I wanted to do was go home.” Surely, that was enough.
“I see.” Mavis looked decidedly skeptical. “Is that all you can tell us?”
Thankfully, J.D. felt inspired to take control of the interview. “Let’s talk more about these raiders.”
Reno was glad to oblige. Without revealing his source, he laid out the facts as he knew them. He chose not to use John Taylor’s name, he only hinted that there could be someone masterminding the plan to divert blame from the real culprits to the Indians. “You see, I don’t think the raids and what they’re stealing is the real purpose. I think these attacks are taking place just to sow seeds of war. If we don’t stop this evil campaign and expose it for what it is, I’m afraid there will be a bloodbath. Many innocent people will die for nothing.”
“All right. I think I can tie these two stories together and make an interesting piece.” J.D. tapped his pencil on the notepad. “Now, for a photograph.”
Reno’s attempt at refusal didn’t get him very far. Finally, he gave in and allowed Mavis to position him for the camera. He stood in one spot while J.D. Elliott hid beneath the drape, holding up his hand. “Hold on. Ready. 1 – 2 – 3!”
Just before J.D. snapped the photo, Mavis jumped into the shot to cling to his arm.
Poof! The light flashed, almost blinding Reno.
“There. Got it!” J.D. exclaimed. “I can see the headline now. Cowboy Comes Back from the Dead! I bet this article will sell more papers than the historic swearing-in ceremony!”
“As long as you put the focus of your story on the white raiders and not me. Please.”
J.D. nodded. “Oh, I’ll check the lead out, you can be certain.” With that assurance, he carried his notes and the camera to his private office – leaving Reno alone with Mavis.
“As soon as the paper is printed, I’ll make sure to bring several copies to King’s Ransom.” Mavis gave him a toothy smile full of promise.
“Oh, that won’t be necessary.”
“Oh, I insist. I’m just so relieved to know you’re well.” Mavis told Reno as she walked him toward the door. “Do you like pecan pie?”
Reno was saved from answering when King showed up at the door. He eyed Mavis with speculation, a tiny grin playing on his lips. “Ready, Reno?”
“Oh, indeed. Yes.” He tugged his arm from the woman’s grip, then gave her a courtly bow. “Good to see you, Miss Talmadge. Thank you for your assistance.”
“Oh, thank you, Reno. It was a pleasure.” She wiggled her fingers at him. “King, you tell Fancy hello for me, you hear?”
“I will.” King tipped his hat. “You have a good day, Miss Talmadge. We have other chicken to fry.”
Reno followed King from the newspaper office and out into the street. “I’m glad you found some chicken to fry before my goose was cooked.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Don’t you like pecan pie?”
“Not particularly. I am fond of berry.” The mention of his favorite dessert brought thoughts of Journey. Last night, when he said goodnight to the moon, he’d remembered all the sweet things she’d done for him. “Of course, it’s not really the flavor of pie that matters to me. It’s the cook.”
King laughed, directing him to cross the street. “We’ve got to hurry.”
Reno fell into step by him. “Did you talk to the Governor?”
“Briefly, but I do have good news.”
“What’s that?”
“We’re having dinner at the Governor’s mansion tonight.”
* * *
“More wine, Sir?” A waiter held the bottle right over Reno’s glass.
“Yes, please.” He leaned away to allow the man room to pour. As he did, his attention was focused on King as he reiterated his point to the governor.
“I agree an investigation needs to be conducted. All I’m asking is that you check these three names out. Kinsella, Roberts, and Taylor. If they are doing the dirty work, you need to call off the Cavalry and these vigilante troops.”
Pease cut into his poached pigeon. “Unfortunately, the 10th Cavalry is already on the move.”
“You can stop them, can’t you?” Reno asked with concern.
“I can send someone to Fort Mason to meet them. We can delay their engagement with the Indians for a few days. Any more than that, I’ll need proof to take to the General. After the railroad party was wiped out, patrols from the 38th Infantry Regiment have already been out scouting around. This is the US Army we’re talking about here and I don’t need to remind you we are no longer in the Union.”
“How about John Taylor? Can you have him investigated? We already know what he’s capable of. He killed his boss, Neigh, right?”
Pease pinned Reno with a stare. “That was never proven, Mr. Black.”
King could see they were losing the governor. “Look, Sir, I know your history and your stance on the Indians. And in the past, there has been…reason for conflict. They certainly aren’t innocent in this matter. However, at this time, in this case – the people you and the US Army are about to exterminate are not guilty of the crime they’ve been accused of committing.”
Pease laid down his knife and fork. “Let me think about it.”
Reno opened his mouth to say something more, but King caught his eye and shook his head slightly.
“All right, Governor. Thank you,” King muttered, nodding graciously. “We know you’ll do the right thing.”
Pease smiled, then rang a small bell by his plate. “Time for dessert. Who likes pecan pie?”
* * *
Journey sat on the floor of the sunroom and played with the kittens. “Oh, you’re so bad. So bad.” She couldn’t help but smile at their antics as they wrestled her hand and one another.
On the floor at her side lay Saul’s journal. If she’d opened the book one time since returning from Wichita Falls, she’d opened it a hundred. It was always empty.
“What are you waiting for, Reno?” What if something had gone wrong? What if he’d never made it through the portal?
“Have you heard? A watched pot never boils, Journey.”
Journey glanced up to see Lou with a cup of hot tea in her hand. “Thanks.” She took the offering gratefully. “Your observation doesn’t sound very scientific.”
Lou stepped gingerly over the kittens to settle on the floor next to her friend. “On the contrary, a quantum physicist has observed that an atom in one energy state cannot change its energy as long as it
is being observed. This phenomenon is known as the Zeno effect.”
“So, the watched journal will never produce a time-traveler’s letter.” Journey abruptly pushed the leather-bound book away from her. “Seriously, Lou, you are so weird.”
“Also, an observable fact.” She picked up one of the kittens to snuggle against her cheek. “I do have good news on that front. There may be hope for me yet. I’m proud to announce that I have a date with Samuel Blackhawk this coming Saturday night.”
“Wonderful!” Journey’s spirits lifted at the thought. “He seems very nice.”
“I think so. He called me while you were in Wichita Falls. We talked for over an hour.”
“About what? The Zeno effect?” She couldn’t help but tease her friend.
“No. For your information, we discussed rock climbing. He’s very interested in outdoor activities. As I am.”
“Since when?” Journey giggled. “We’ve been friends forever and I have never known you to go camping or hiking or anything like that. You’re an inside girl.”
“A person can change. Especially with the right incentive.”
“Oh, is Sam Blackhawk incentive enough?
“Oh, yea. I’d say so. Have you seen those muscles?”
“Sorry. I’ve been a little preoccupied.” Journey’s smile faded. I’m going nuts, Lou. This is the fifth day. What could have happened?” she asked, then bent double, her face resting on her knees. “Anything could’ve happened to him.”
“Do you remember what Kota told us? We need to have faith.”
“It’s hard, Lou. I keep imagining the worst has happened.” Unable to sit still, Journey pushed to her feet. “Is there scientific proof for faith?”
Lou considered her question. “Researchers believe in theories, but seldom do they believe in miracles…unless they’ve seen one. Trust isn’t blind, Jo. Our present confidence must be grounded on solid evidence. Today, we can believe in a miracle because of what we’ve seen with our own eyes.”
“It’s difficult to have faith in something you don’t understand.”
“Maybe so, but there’s one thing I know you can have faith in, because you’ve seen its power for yourself.” Seeing the look of hope on Journey’s face, Lou continued to make her case. “Love, Journey. You’ve witnessed firsthand the power of love. The connection you and Reno share bridged two centuries. Somehow, your souls connected despite the constraints of time. I have never seen a truer bond between two people. Not in movies. Not in books. What you share is rare beyond words. Truly miraculous.”
Journey wiped her eyes and hugged her friend. “What would I do without you, Lou?”
“I don’t know, I’m pretty amazing.”
“Yes, you are.” Journey hugged her again. “You’re right. I shall see Reno again; I just know I will. I have faith.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“My friends already think I’m crazy, Journey. If they come out here and find me talking to the moon, their suspicions will only be confirmed.” He sat on the top railing of the corral fence, his eye on the waning moon. “I know you can’t hear me, but I love you so much. I miss you more than you’ll ever know.” Pouring his heart out, he told her about his trip to Austin. “We told Governor Pease about Kinsella and John Taylor. I hope he listened; I’m not sure he did. My disappointment is so great over this situation, losing Ela broke my heart.” He also related his plan to leave for Washington with Gentry. “As soon as I say goodbye to the children in the morning, we’ll ride to Waco to catch the stage for Washington. Once we show Wallace our evidence, we’ll be on our way to North Carolina. Hopefully, we’ll be bringing Cole home with us.” Lastly, he gave her the bad news. “I’m sorry I haven’t put the letter in the journal yet. Turns out, Gentry’s sister packed it up in a trunk with things she bought the children and the book’s halfway to Boston by now. He’s sending her a telegram to have the journal shipped to Wallace’s office. The moment Saul’s journal is in my hands, I’ll send word to you. I swear.” With that heartfelt promise, Reno took one last look at the moon. “Goodnight, my love. Until I can hold you in my arms, I’ll hold you in my heart.”
…Before dawn, Reno crept into the children’s rooms to say goodbye. He pulled up their covers, kissed rosy cheeks, and retrieved Tess’s doll from the floor to return to her arms. Words of love were whispered in every ear, but only the oldest two roused enough to respond.
“When will you be back, Reno?” Huck asked, rubbing his eyes.
“As soon as I’m able, not a moment longer.” A pang of remorse tugged at his heart. As much as he longed to return to Journey, he dreaded telling these little ones goodbye forever.
When it came Saul’s turn, he sat up in the bed. “I know you have to go. Your brother needs your help, but please be careful. We need you.”
“I need you too.” Reno tried to push the ache down deep in his chest. If there was any way he could have it all – Journey, his baby, his friends, and these children – he’d grab onto the miracle with both hands. “Take care of your brothers and sisters for me.”
“I will. You take care of yourself for us.”
“I have my extra six-shooter and my knife. Already packed.” Reno promised he’d be safe, then he fled before the tears came.
* * *
“Breathe deeply, Reno.” Gentry showed him how as they rode north toward Waco. “The air is crisp and full of possibilities. I love this time of the morning.”
“You mean the butt crack of dawn?” He could barely see his hand in front of his face.
Laughter burst from Gentry’s lips. “Where did you hear such an uncouth saying?”
“I don’t know. On some TV program. I don’t remember.”
“TV program.” The Englishman repeated the word. “What does that mean?”
Reno briefly explained what he knew about television and the variety of things one could find to watch. “There was everything from serious news to mindless comedy. My favorite were the documentaries on a channel devoted just to history.”
“I see. What can you tell me of England?”
Reno thought a moment. “She’s no longer the most powerful nation on earth. America claims that title at the present.”
“Do they still observe tea?”
“I believe so. There’s still a Queen and London is still foggy.”
Gentry nodded. “All is well, then.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes, listening to birds wake up to greet a new day. As always, they were alert to danger. This was cougar country and the big wild cats liked to drape themselves on low lying limbs to watch for prey. Wolves roamed the land in large packs, following the buffalo herds. And the buffalo herds themselves could be a hazard. Once Reno witnessed a herd that he estimated to be five miles wide and a million strong cross the Colorado. He’d sat in amazement for an hour as they thundered by.
“I rode into Kingsland yesterday to send the telegram to Wallace.”
“Thank you. I wish I’d told you to go ahead and give him the drummer boy’s name and address.”
Gentry scoffed good naturedly. “I didn’t have to be told. I also gave him Jubal’s information and the names of his known associates to be questioned.”
“Good. I should have known you would be ahead of me. I just hope those men are as willing to speak out now as they will be when Saul approached them in 1902.”
“Hearing you speak of the future as if it’s in the past makes my head hurt, Reno. Of course, we won’t know what Wallace thinks of the information or the result of any action he takes until we arrive in Washington.”
He held Traveler’s reins loosely. The stallion could read the trail as well as Reno. “In the future, we could talk to the lawyer as we rode along this path. There would be cell phone towers scattered over the countryside. There’s also a thing called texting and email. You can send a written message to a person with a little black box you can hold in your hand and get an answer immediately.”
“Sounds t
oo good to be true. But if you don’t mind, I’d rather not know any other details about the future.”
This surprised Reno. “Why?”
Gentry took a swig of water from his canteen. “Because I’m endlessly fascinated by all of it. The more I hear, the more I want to experience it for myself. If I don’t curtail my interest, it could become an obsession. I’d be combing the hills, hunting a medicine man to help me cross over.”
“Ela is dead. I don’t know if I’ll be able to go through the portal. Not with any certainty of what I’ll find on the other side.” This was the first time he’d acknowledged the possibility to himself and the horror of what he spoke resonated through his body like a gunshot.
“She has a son, you know.”
“She does have a son.” Reno repeated the fact, hope sparking in his breast. “I haven’t thought of that.” He exhaled a ragged breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “If it were possible, why wouldn’t you want to see the future?”
Gentry met his gaze and Reno realized he was weighing his words. Finally, he spoke. “My heart is here.”
“As my heart is with Journey.” He understood the sentiment only too well. “You’re speaking of a woman. Who?”
“No one.”
Reno could tell the Englishman was lying. “Does no one have a name?”
He tightened his lips as if to prevent the truth from escaping. “She’s too young. Too afraid.”
It didn’t take too much thinking on Reno’s part to arrive at a conclusion. “You mean Amelia.”
“Like I said, she’s too young. Too traumatized.”
“If anyone can help her through this ordeal, it would be you.”
“I’m not so sure of that.”
“I am.” Reno considered the past. “You were the one who pushed to rescue her, and you were the one who pulled it off.”
“With your help.”
“Ela’s help,” he corrected, studying his friends face. “You’ve been drawn to Amelia all along.”
Gentry snorted in disgust. “I’m too old for her. Too jaded. She’s pure and innocent.”