The word home seemed to echo through the night.
When Relámpago came to a halt, Bonnie opened her eyes. Closed them. Opened them again. And practically fell off the stallion’s back when she realized they were in front of her cabin at Collin’s Dude Ranch.
Clinging to Gray, she started to holler for help, then quickly closed her mouth, her mind whirling with questions for which she had no answer. They were back in her time. How could she explain Gray’s presence? The fact that he’d been shot? That he had no driver’s license? No identification of any kind? No medical insurance?
He stirred, then sat upright. “What happened?”
“Relámpago brought us home.”
“Home?”
“We’re back in my time.”
Gray blinked several times, then glanced at his surroundings ~ several small log cabins stood in a row. To his left, a larger building was silhouetted in the moonlight. The air smelled of grass and hay and horses. “This is where you live?”
“No.” She slid over Relámpago’s rump and moved up beside Gray. “This is the dude ranch I told you about. Can you walk? We need to get you inside and stop the bleeding.”
With a nod, he slid off the stallion’s back then stood beside the horse, one hand braced on the stallion’s neck.
Bonnie slid her arm around Gray’s waist. Side by side, they staggered to the front door. Thankfully, it was unlocked. She opened the door, only then wondering if Mrs. Collin’s had rented it to someone else in her absence.
It took some maneuvering, but she finally got him into the bedroom. Propping him against the door jamb, she pulled the covers from the bed, spread a towel over the sheet, then eased him onto the mattress.
She hesitated a moment before pulling his sodden shirt from his trousers.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Gray said.
“It’s not?” It looked bad to her. There was blood everywhere.
“The bullet just grazed me.”
“What should I do?”
“Wash away the blood, pour some whiskey on it, then bandage me up.”
Whiskey? Where was she going to get whiskey? The strongest thing she had was a bottle of aspirin.
She’d worry about that part later. Right now, she had to get the bleeding stopped.
She filled a pan with hot water, found a wash cloth and another clean towel, and returned to Gray. Trying not to gag, she washed the blood from his side, revealing a shallow, ragged gash where the bullet had plowed through his flesh. Fortunately, she didn’t think it needed stitching. When the wound was clean, she doused it with water, then tore a pillow case into strips and wrapped it tightly around Gray’s waist. When that was done, she offered him four aspirin for the pain, pulled off his boots, socks, and jeans, and covered him with the blanket.
He murmured, “thank you,” and was asleep before she could respond.
She stood staring down at him a moment, thinking how remarkable it was that they had made it back to her time. Bending down, she brushed a lock of hair from his brow, kissed his cheek, and then smiled. She had come to South Dakota looking for a real cowboy and found an Indian instead.
Chapter 9
Gray woke with a groan, his hand automatically straying toward the ache in his side. He frowned when he felt the bandage swathed around his middle. What the hell? And then he remembered. He’d been shot escaping the bounty hunter.
Ignoring the pain in his side, he bolted upright. Where was Bonnie? Surely she hadn’t gone off and left him here alone? He was about to swing his legs over the side of the bed when she entered the room, a tray in her hands.
“Good morning.” She placed the tray on the table beside the bed, then laid her hand on his forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore as hell.”
“I’m not surprised.” She pulled a bottle from the pocket of her apron, opened it and shook some pills into her hand. “Here,” she said, offering him the pills and a glass of water.
“What is this?”
“Aspirin. It’s all I’ve got for the pain. Are you hungry?” She gestured at the tray. “I made bacon and eggs and coffee.
“Thanks.”
She sat on the edge of the bed while he ate. Earlier, she had gone up to the main house where she had learned that the Collins’ had sent a search party out to look for her but, due to the storm, her tracks had washed out. Another search party had left this morning, and were still out. Surprisingly, she discovered that time in the past and time in the present were not the same, and while she had been in the past for several days, she had only been missing for two days here.
“I’m going to tell Mrs. Collin’s that you’re my husband, and that you arrived late last night.”
Gray nodded.
“We’ve been married for a year and we live in California.”
He nodded again.
“If anyone asks, you train horses for a living. I bought you a change of clothes. They’re in the closet.” She chewed on her thumbnail. “Say something.”
He finished the last of his eggs, then wiped his mouth. “You’re a good cook.”
“Gray…”
“What do you want me to say? I’m obliged to you for taking care of me.”
“What are you thinking? I mean, you’re in the future. Are you, I don’t know, scared? Worried?”
He lifted one brow. “Scared?” He set the tray aside, then pulled her up against him. “Why should I be scared? I’ve got you.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, you know your way around here. I reckon I can learn how to get by. And I kinda like the idea of being your husband.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah. I figure that gives me the right to do this,” he said, brushing a kiss over her lips. “As often as I want.”
“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”
“I’m not even sure what that means.”
“In your case, it means impossible.”
“Honey, I’m very possible. And as soon as my side heals up, I’ll prove it to you.”
“Oh, you will, will you?”
He nodded. “In every way I can.”
* * * * *
To Bonnie’s amazement, Gray was up and around the next day. When she suggested he should stay in bed another day or two, he shook his head.
“I want to see this world of yours.”
It was an adventure, touring the ranch with Gray. He was fascinated with everything she showed him – cars, TV, computer games, cell phones, instant coffee, stoves and washing machines, the swimming pool behind the main house.
They were standing by the corral that held Relámpago, admiring the stallion, when Bonnie heard a scream.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a riderless horse racing across the yard at a full gallop, stirrups flapping.
“Olivia!” A woman came running out onto the porch of the main house, her face pale as she ran down the steps toward the little girl sitting on the grass, playing with a doll.
Bonnie felt like screaming herself as the horse ran on, apparently headed straight for the little girl, and the barn that lay beyond.
Bonnie turned to look at Gray, only he was no longer beside her. She watched, aghast, as he sprinted forward, grabbed hold of the horse’s mane, and vaulted onto its back. How he did it, she never knew, but, somehow, he managed to bring the wild-eyed animal under control, turning the horse away from the little girl, bringing the horse to a halt on the far side of the corral that held Relámpago.
Sobbing, the girl’s mother scooped Olivia into her arms and carried her into the main house.
Gray grabbed a rope from a fence post, fashioned a loop, and dropped it over the horse’s head before dismounting. Moving to the horse’s head, he rubbed the animal’s neck, speaking softly to the frightened animal.
Mr. Collins came running up to Gray. “Son, that was a brave thing you did,” he exclaimed, thumping Gray on the back. “And some of the best riding I’ve seen. If you ever ne
ed a job, you’ve got one.”
“Obliged.”
“You’ve got quite a man there,” Mr. Collins told Bonnie. “Come on up to the house. Mrs. Perfilli will want to thank you, too.”
One of the ranch hands showed up a few minutes later. “Hell of a show,” he muttered. Taking the rope from Gray’s hand, he began to walk the horse to cool it down.
Up at the house, they learned a rattlesnake had spooked the horse. A couple of men from the ranch backtracked the horse and found its rider near the trail. The rider, one of the trail guides, had a broken leg.
“Could have been worse,” Gray remarked. “He coulda been snake-bit.”
After dinner, Mr. Collins approached Gray. “My guide’s gonna be laid up for a spell. I was wondering, that is, I don’t suppose there’s any chance you could fill in for him while you’re here? We’ll refund the cost of your trip. And pay you for your time, of course.”
“I don’t know.” Gray looked at Bonnie.
“It’s up to you.”
“Looks like you’ve got yourself a hand,” Gray said.
“You know,” Bonnie said as they walked back to her cabin, “maybe you should take Mr. Collins up on his job offer and work here full-time.”
“Is that what you want?” Gray asked.
“I was just thinking about you. I mean, the job seems perfect.”
He stopped walking and turned to face her. “If I decided to stay here, what would you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your life is not here.”
“Oh. Right. My life.”
“What we had, in my time, is it over now?”
Bonnie stared at him. “Is that what you think? That I’m trying to get rid of you now?”
“Are you?”
“No. If you want to stay here and work on the ranch, I’ll stay, too, if you want me.”
Gray drew her into his arms. “What do you think?”
“I think Relámpago saved us both,” she murmured. She hadn’t been in danger, at least not physically, when Relámpago carried her into the past, but she’d been in danger of living a life bereft of love and excitement. “I love you, Gray.”
“Bonnie!” He kissed her then, his arms tightening around her as if he would never let her go. “Will you marry me?”
“Just as soon as I can.” There would be problems, of course, like getting him some ID, teaching him to drive a car, stuff like that, but for once in her life, she believed – no, she knew - that love would conquer all.
Happiness bubbled up inside her as Gray swung her into his arms, carried her into their cabin and closed the door, cocooning them in a world all their own.
Epilogue
Relámpago paced the corral. His hooves struck the earth like the echo of Apache war drums, the wind sighing through the trees whispered his name, calling him home.
When the last light winked out in the main house, he vaulted over the fence railing. A flash of lightning lit the night sky, a rumble of thunder shook the earth as, tail waving like a battle flag in the breeze, the great white stallion went home.
The End
Injured and captured, Riley Culhane faces death at the hands of the Cheyenne. Winter Star is put in charge of caring for the white captive until his fate is decided. As she tends him, she is drawn to learn more of him.
Culhane is also attracted to the Cheyenne maiden with the tender hands and heart. Will she watch him die at the hands of her people, or does fate have other plans?
Passion’s Promise
Chapter 1
Riley Culhane knew they had ridden into a trap even before he saw the Indians descending in a howling fury down the narrow canyon. He drew his Winchester.
Captain William Frye hollered, “Retreat!”
But it was already too late. The sibilant hiss of a deadly hail of arrows pierced the late afternoon stillness. Over half the patrol went down before a single shot was fired.
What followed was every cavalryman’s nightmare come true as over a hundred paint-streaked savages mounted on fleet, bareback ponies swarmed into the ravine from both ends. Their voices rose in an inhuman cacophony of noise as they effectively cut off any hope of retreat.
Troopers clad in sweat-stained Army blue ran for cover, leaving their frightened horses to charge up and down the gorge, eyes wide and rolling with fright.
Culhane took cover behind a large dun-colored boulder, his gray eyes narrowed against the hot prairie sun as he sighted down the barrel of his rifle. He gently squeezed the trigger and a screaming Cheyenne buck fell backwards over his pony’s rump to be lost from sight in the gritty yellow dust swirling through the air.
Grinning with satisfaction, Culhane took aim again, cursed softly as his bullet went wide of the mark.
The soldiers of Company B fought valiantly, but with the losses they sustained, they were badly outnumbered. One by one, they fell before the vicious onslaught of the Indians.
Tossing his empty rifle aside, Culhane drew his sidearm and fired point-blank into a sweating, paint-daubed face. The warrior pitched off the back of his horse without a sound, his face a grotesque mask of blood and tissue.
Culhane swore as another warrior charged toward him. Time seemed to telescope as he raised his gun to fire at the same instant the warrior threw his lance. Culhane imagined the bullet and the lance passing each other in mid-air. He muttered a vile obscenity as the head of the shaft buried itself in his right side, the force driving him backward, slamming him into the unyielding wall of the ravine.
Culhane knew a brief moment of satisfaction as he watched the warrior topple to the ground, and then he knew only a deep sense of resignation as a half dozen angry warriors surrounded him.
He took a deep breath, an intense sense of sadness filling him as he realized there was no escape. He was going to die. With regret, he realized he would never see his home again, never make that trip to San Francisco, never...
Two of the warriors jerked his arms behind his back while a third took hold of the lance. A sudden nausea rose in Culhane’s throat. He knew what they were going to do. An anguished cry erupted from deep in his throat as the warrior jerked the lance from his side. Then there was only excruciating pain and the wet heat of blood running down his flank as he plunged into a deep, black void.
Chapter 2
A great shout went up as the returning war party rode into the village. Women and children surged forward, their eyes bright with interest when they saw the many cavalry ponies, blankets, rifles, and scalps the warriors brought home. Winter Star ran forward with the other women, her gaze sweeping over the faces of the returning warriors as she searched for the tall figure of her father.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him riding near the head of the long column of warriors. Offering a silent prayer to Maheo for bringing Elk Hunter safely home, she made her way through the chattering crowd to walk beside her father’s horse.
The warriors came to a halt in the center of the village. Elk Hunter smiled warmly at his daughter as he dismounted and handed her the reins of his favorite war pony. It was then Winter Star noticed the rope in her father’s hand. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the other end of the rope looped around the neck of a white man. His hands were bound behind his back.
She had seen only a few white men in her life time and she stared curiously at the prisoner, the same way she would have stared at a wild animal. As tall as her father, he was broad-shouldered, well-muscled. She knew a moment of fear when she noticed he was dressed in the hated blue uniform of the soldier-coats. He stood with his head bowed, his chin resting on his chest, so she could not see his face.
Amid the noise of the returning war party, a sudden wail rose into the air. Looking around, Winter Star saw Blue Robe sobbing loudly. Her husband, Chases the Buffalo, had been killed in the battle with the vehoe. Soon, other cries filled with pain and anguish were added to Blue Robe’s.
“We lost six warriors,” Elk Hunter told Winter Sta
r, his voice grave. “All died bravely.”
Winter Star looked at the vehoe again. He would die slowly at the hands of the women. She wondered if he was aware of the fate that awaited him.
Elk Hunter tugged on the rope. The white man groaned low in his throat as he staggered forward. It was then Winter Star noticed the dark stain on his shirt front. Even now, fresh blood oozed from the wound low in his right side. Lifting her gaze to the white man’s face, she saw that his eyes were gray and clouded with pain.
“Ne-naestse, natona,” Elk Hunter called over his shoulder. Come, my daughter. Winter Star’s mother, Eagle Woman, met them at the door of their lodge. Her dark eyes filled with loathing when she saw the white man trailing behind her husband.
She jabbed her finger in the prisoner’s direction. “What is this dog of a white man doing here?”
“He killed the husband of Blue Robe,” Elk Hunter replied. “I think he will be good entertainment on a warm night.”
Eagle Woman looked skeptical. “In his condition, he will not last very long.”
“True. But I think he is a strong man, perhaps a brave man. I saw him kill three of our warriors. He did not whine or beg for mercy on the long journey to our village. I think he will be good sport for our women when he is stronger.”
Eagle Woman looked at her husband suspiciously, her hands fisted on her hips. “And who will care for him until then?”
“My obedient wife and daughter,” Elk Hunter replied, ending the discussion.
Eagle Woman let out a sigh of resignation. “Very well, my husband. Tie him up behind the lodge, then come inside and eat. Winter Star, you will care for the vehoe after you have taken care of your father’s war horse.”
“Hahoo, nakohe,” Winter Star agreed reluctantly. Yes, my mother.
After removing the blanket from her father’s horse, Winter Star tethered the sturdy paint stallion alongside the lodge where it could graze on the sparse grass that grew there. Humming softly, she brushed the dirt from the animal’s coat; then giving the horse a pat on the neck, she walked around the lodge to look after the white man’s wounds.
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