“You all right?” Gray asked.
“What was that all about?” Bonnie asked.
“We need to talk.”
She stared at him. Those four words never preceded good news.
“I’m a wanted man with a price on my head.”
She blinked at him, speechless. A price on his head? Was he kidding? “I don’t understand.”
He glanced at their back trial, then blew out a sigh. “I killed a man. It was self-defense, but the jury didn’t believe me.”
“Why not?”
“Why not? I killed a white man.”
“But if it was self-defense…”
“Didn’t you hear what I said? I killed a white man.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”
“I’m a half-breed,” he said. “No jury’s gonna believe me.”
“But…”
He shook his head. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“So, why were you in such a hurry to leave the cabin?”
“I got up before sunrise and scouted my back trail. I found a couple of bounty hunters sacked out about five miles southeast. I wasn’t going to wait for them to come knockin’ on the door.”
“Oh. But, well, even if they caught you, wouldn’t they just turn you in?”
“Yeah, right. The reward on the wanted poster says dead or alive.”
Bonnie stared at him. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she was back in the Old West, what with all this talk about white men and half-breed’s and wanted posters…and newspapers dated 1879.
She took a good look at Gray. He wore a dark blue shirt, a pair of pants that looked like they were made of buckskin, and scuffed brown leather boots. The gunbelt that had been hanging over the chair was now snugged around his waist and looked at home there. Men these days didn’t go around wearing guns.
Her mouth went dry. It wasn’t possible. What she was thinking just wasn’t possible. “What day is it?”
“I’m not sure, late August, I think.”
“What year?”
“Eighteen seventy-nine.”
She swayed on the stallion’s back. Eighteen seventy-nine. How was it possible?
He frowned at her. “You okay? You look a little pale.”
“I think I’m going to …”
“Faint,” he muttered, as she slid off the stallion’s back and into his arms.
She regained consciousness moments later, startled to find herself in Gray’s arms, surprised to find she rather liked it there.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Sure? About what?”
“The year.”
“Yeah. What I’m not sure of is you. Who the hell are you, anyway?”
“I told you. Bonnie, from the dude ranch.”
“Yeah, that’s what you said. What year do you think it is?”
“Two thousand and eleven.”
He grunted softly. “Were you in danger in your own time?”
“I don’t think so.” She stared at him. “You believe me?”
He shrugged. “The legends say that Relámpago can travel through time. I never believed it until now. I don’t understand why he would have brought you here. He’s only supposed to show up when people are in danger.” He grinned wryly. “I’m pretty sure you’re in more danger here, with me, than you were back wherever you came from.”
She thought so, too, but at the moment, she didn’t care. She liked it right where she was. His gaze lingered on hers, making her stomach go all fluttery. He had beautiful dark eyes. He was, in fact, just plain beautiful, and she was having thoughts she shouldn’t have about a man she didn’t know.
Clearing her throat, she said, “I must be getting heavy.”
“A little bit of a thing like you?” he said, obviously amused. “I could carry you all day long and never break a sweat.”
It surprised her how much she liked that idea.
* * * * *
Bonnie glanced at Gray. They were riding side by side across a flat land dotted with scrub oak and occasional stands of timber. There were mountains in the distance.
Earlier, she had asked Gray where they were going and he had said they were going to the nearest town for supplies, a bath, and a hot meal.
She didn’t know which was more tempting, hot water or hot food. She had quickly grown tired of jerky and water from his canteen, which was all he had to eat and drink.
Late in the afternoon, they came to a river flanked by tall trees. Gray reined his horse to a halt. Dismounting, he lifted her from the stallion’s back.
Bonnie groaned. She wasn’t used to horseback riding, especially bareback. Riding without a saddle wasn’t as easy as it looked in the movies. She had to concentrate on keeping her balance.
“We’ll rest here awhile,” Gray said.
With a nod, she dropped gratefully onto a patch of grass while he unsaddled the bay mare and then let the horses drink.
Bonnie watched Gray, noting that he moved with a kind of masculine grace. He had big hands. Long arms and legs, muscles that bunched and flowed with every movement. Sitting there, she was overcome with an urge to touch him, to run her hands over his smooth, coppery skin, to twine her fingers in his hair, to inhale his scent. Her wayward thoughts gave her pause. She had never, ever wanted to ravish a man before, but there was something about Gray that attracted her like no other man she had ever known. Every time he looked at her, every nerve and cell in her body leaped to attention, hoping, waiting, for his touch.
She frowned as she recalled what he had said earlier, about Relámpago carrying people away from danger. Only she hadn’t been in any danger back home. She was in danger here, though, she thought wryly. In danger of doing something remarkably foolish with a remarkably handsome man. Who just happened to be wanted for murder.
With a start, she realized he was watching her.
He hunkered down on his heels beside her. “Something wrong?”
“Gee, what could possibly be wrong? Let’s see. I’m a hundred and thirty-two years in the past. With a complete stranger. And I have no idea how to get back home. Other than that, everything’s just peachy!”
A slow grin spread over his face. “Did you know your nose sort of twitches when you get mad?”
“Too bad I’m not Jeanie. I could just twitch my nose and zap myself back home.”
“You know someone who can do that?”
Bonnie stated at him, then burst out laughing. “Not really. It’s an old TV sitcom…”
She huffed a sigh. “Never mind.”
He looked at her, one brow arched. “I guess things are probably different where you come from.”
“You have no idea.”
He stretched out beside her, his arms folded behind his head. “The future,” he murmured. “I wonder if Relámpago would take me there.”
“You want to go to the future?”
“Nobody’s looking for me there.”
“Ah.” She stretched out on her side, her cheek cradled on her arm, facing him. “I’m not sure you’d like it in my time.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one thing, there are billions more people and I’m not sure any of them are happy. There are wars everywhere. High school kids can buy drugs in the parking lot. It isn’t safe to be out at night. People are losing their jobs and their homes. The cost of living keeps going up even though the economy is in the toilet…” She shook her head. From the look on his face, he didn’t know what a toilet was, either.
“You’re right. I don’t think I want to go there.”
“Do you know how I can make Relámpago take me back?”
“As far as I know, there’s no way to make him do anything he doesn’t want to.”
He turned onto his side and now they were lying face to face. “I think I like it here.” He traced the curve of her cheek with his hand. “What could be better than spending a p
retty day with a pretty girl?”
“You think I’m pretty?”
He nodded.
She couldn’t imagine why. Her hair was a tangled mess. Whatever make-up she’d had on was long gone. She was wearing dirty jeans and a shirt that was about three sizes too big. “I must look like something the cat dragged in,” she muttered.
“Well, you do look like you could use a bath and a comb,” he said, grinning.
She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Hey, I reckon I could use some cleaning up myself. I’ve been on the run since July. We can get cleaned up when we get to Deadwood.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“I have to go back to where Relámpago found me,” Bonnie said.
“Why’s that?”
“Well, I don’t know, but it seems to me that there must be some kind of portal or something there. I mean, how else would I have got here?”
“Beats the hell out of me. I never heard of the stud needing a portal of any kind.”
“Hmm.” Maybe the horse was the portal, she mused. If so, how did she make Relámpago take her home? Maybe if she clicked her heels together, she thought, stifling a grin.
Gray stood, stretching his back and shoulders. “We’d best be movin’. I’ll throw my saddle over the stud. Make it easier for you to ride.”
“Thank you.”
Gray saddled the stallion, then fashioned a hackamore from a length of rope coiled around the horn.
“Come here,” he said, “I’ll give you a leg up.”
Once she was seated, he adjusted the stirrups, then handed her the reins. “We’ll be in Deadwood by nightfall.”
Deadwood, she thought with some apprehension. She might be a city girl, but she’d heard of Deadwood; Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickock. One of her favorite movies was the old musical, ‘Calamity Jane’. For all she knew, Calamity and Wild Bill could be living there now.
Now, wouldn’t that be something?
Chapter 6
It was near dark when they arrived in Deadwood. Bonnie’s first impression was one of too many people crowded into too small a space. The buildings, predominately wood though there were a few made of red brick, lined both sides of the narrow, dusty street. She noted that most of them were saloons – among them the Senate Saloon and the Bella Union. There were a few exceptions, like C.H. Flucken’s Denver Grocery. She saw a sign for J. Shoudy City Meat Market, which appeared to be located inside the post office. There were buildings scattered on the hillsides, as well.
Gray drew rein in front of the Grand Central Hotel, a rather flamboyant name, Bonnie thought, since it didn’t look so grand. Still, it promised a place to wash up and, hopefully, eat a decent meal.
“What do you want first?” Gray asked. “Food or a bath?”
“Food!”
With a nod, Gray led the way into the dining room.
“I hope it’s good,” Bonnie remarked as they found a table.
“The Grand ain’t much to look at, but she’s got the best cook this side of the Missouri.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Her name’s Lucretia, but hereabouts she’s known as Aunt Lou. She was a slave sometime back. She makes the best biscuits and plum pudding you’ve ever tasted. And her chicken and dumplings aren’t bad, either.”
Bonnie doubted Aunt Lou was as good a cook as Gray claimed. Why would anyone with any talent waste it in a place like Deadwood. After one bite of Aunt Lou’s biscuits, Bonnie mentally apologized to the other woman. And, as promised, her chicken and dumplings were the best Bonnie had ever eaten.
“You ready for dessert?” Gray asked.
She shook her head. “I’m stuffed.”
Gray tossed a dollar on the table and they left the hotel.
“Aren’t we going to get a room?”
“The hotel doesn’t have rooms. You can get a bunk or bed down on the floor for a dollar a night.”
“Then where are we going to get a bath?”
“Bath-house down the street. But first, I need to get the horses settled in for the night.”
After leaving the horses at the livery barn, Bonnie followed Gray to Childs Bath and Barber Shop.
A short time later, Bonnie was reclining in the kind of bathtub she had only seen in old cowboy movies but she didn’t care. The water was hot and clean and that was all that mattered. She stayed in it until the water started to cool. Wishing she had a change of clothes, she pulled on her bra and panties, her jeans, socks and boots. At least she could wear her own shirt, she thought, as she folded Gray’s red one.
Gray had admonished her not to go outside without him, so she stood in the doorway, watching the traffic on the street. There were men everywhere – walking, on horseback, driving oxcarts, staggering from one saloon to another.
She looked to her left, surprised to hear someone calling Calamity Jane’s name, but the woman answering the call looked nothing like Bonnie expected. In the movies, Jane was always pretty, like Doris Day, but this woman, wearing a hat, pants, boots, and a fringed jacket – and carrying a rifle – looked more like a man than a woman.
“Bonnie?”
She turned at the sound of Gray’s voice, felt her insides turn over at the sight of him.
“You ready to go?”
“Where are we going?”
“There’s a boardinghouse down the street. We can get a room there for the night.”
“A room? As in one?”
Gray nodded. “Trust me, you don’t want to a room of your own.”
She considered that and decided he was right. Unless there were bars on the doors and the windows, she was probably safer with Gray.
She continued to think that until the proprietor ushered them into a small room furnished with a rocking chair and a double bed.
“You’ve got that look again,” Gray said.
“What look?”
“The ‘I’m in the past with a stranger and no way to get back home’ look.”
“There’s only one bed.”
He grunted softly. “I guess that leaves me the rocker or the floor.”
“I guess so.” She pulled one of the blankets off the bed and handed it to him, along with one of the pillows. “Good night.”
“You’re a heartless woman,” he muttered with a rueful grin. He spread the blanket on the floor, shoved the pillow under his head, then pulled half of the blanket over him.
Bonnie felt a twinge of guilt as she climbed into bed. He was paying for the room and yet he was the one sleeping on the floor when there was plenty of room for the two of them in the bed.
She closed her eyes, determined not to feel guilty. But it was no use. The floor was hard and probably cold. With an aggrieved sigh, she said, “Oh, for crying out loud, get off the floor.”
If she expected an argument, she didn’t get one. He was sliding under the covers almost before the words had left her mouth.
Berating herself for being too soft-hearted, she turned her back to him and closed her eyes.
* * * * *
Bonnie let out a little moan of pleasure as a large hand massaged her back, smiled as someone kissed her eyelids. Warmth spread through her as he rained kisses on her cheek and along her neck. She snuggled closer, aligning her body with his, as she sought his lips. Warm, firm lips that sent shivers of delight coursing through her. Feeling suddenly bold, she slid her hands under his shirt…and realized, to her dismay, that she wasn’t dreaming when a familiar voice whispered her name.
Horrified, she opened her eyes to see Gray looking at her.
“No need to stop on my account,” he said, his voice husky.
She glared at him. “I didn’t think you’d take advantage of me while I was asleep!”
“Hey, it’s not my hand under your shirt.”
“Oh!” She jerked her hand away, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
His fingertips caressed her lower lip. “Swe
et,” he murmured.”
She stared at him, mesmerized by the desire in his eyes, the sensual touch of his fingers moving back and forth over her lips.
Her heart did a flip flop of anticipation as he leaned toward her. She could have pulled away. She could have slapped him. Instead, she closed her eyes and reveled in his kisses. Her common sense told her she was headed for trouble, but she wasn’t listening.
The old Bonnie would have listened, but this impulsive new Bonnie decided to throw caution to the winds. She wrapped her arms around him, drawing him closer, delighting in the hard length of his body moving against hers. In the back of her mind, she realized that her previous boyfriends were amateurs in the kissing department compared to Gray. And like a splash of cold water came the disquieting thought that he must have had a lot of practice, and that she was probably just another in a long line of floozies.
Putting her hands on his chest, she pushed him away.
Gray frowned at her, confused by her sudden change of mood. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just came to my senses.”
He shook his head. “You picked a hell of a time for it.”
“I don’t care to be another conquest.”
“Conquest?”
“Another notch on your bedpost.”
Sitting up, Gray ran a hand over his jaw. “Lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your kisses.”
“You’re complaining?”
“No.”
Gray blew out an exasperated sigh. “One of us isn’t making any sense,” he muttered. “And it isn’t me.”
“You kiss like you’ve had a lot of practice. A lot of women.”
“I’m thirty years old. I’ve been with a few women in my time. Not as many as you seem to think.”
“How many?”
“Only two. One when I was very young.”
“And the other?”
“I met her in Colorado a few years back. Her father was the sheriff. I might have married her, but when she found out I was a half-breed, she wouldn’t see me anymore.”
“Did you love her very much?”
He shrugged. “I thought I did. How about you?” he asked, turning the tables on her. “Have you known a lot of men?”
“No. And none of them were like you.”
Tales of Western Romance Page 5